Marcus is changed after Diego's death. He still laughs, with a quick smile, but his mother Maria Teresa Tonatzin Florez-Alarcon worries at the darkness that has entered him, and so she enters her boy in a race, a marathon for the Day of the Dead. Gregorio worries too, and brings home a dog. Marcus names the dog Shadow, and takes it running with him.
The patter of his shoes in the cold mornings, the routine, seems to leach his soul of darkness, driving it away as the sun made the shadows flee each morning. Why does this have to be so hard? Marcus thought.
The jaguar leaves him alone, for now.
He runs on the last day, November 3rd. Two months should not be enough to prepare, but he's been running anyways, he's always running, running, and Maria Teresa knows her boy.
On the day of the race, all of his friends are there: Miguel, and Luisa, and Silvia. Tia Regina shows up too, and points to where Diego's father stands with the crowd.
"That is Don Caligula. A dangerous man," she warns. Don Caligula's impassive face towers over the crowd. Two heavily muscled men in t-shirts and sunglasses stand just behind him. He watches Marcus like a rattlesnake.
Marcus has Shadow on a leash, and yes, it's alright to take the dog with him.
The first mile is easy, the morning bright, birds singing along the route northward, but as Marcus takes each stride, pad, pad, pad, listening to the panting of his Shadow and the strains of Juanes, the clouds thunder in, heavy and piled high like mountains crashing into each other. Lightning crashes to the ground, right in front of Marcus.
When he blinks back the spots from his sight, Marcus sees a hairless wrinkled anciano, reed thin and bent over like the flute player Kokopelli. Shadow runs up to him and licks his hand, tail wagging.
"I always get the worst jobs," the viejito remarks to no one in particular, spitting to the ground, "Boy, I've a word with you."
Marcus pauses, the other runners looking at him curiously as he stops to talk to the strange little man. Thunder overhead causes them to flinch, but nobody thinks of cancelling the race.
"Right, here you go," the old man shoves a hummingbird pendant made of silver and turquoise into Marcus's hands.
"What's this?"
"That's your dead friend, son," the old man cackled. "He doesn't like me, so you'll have to lead him to the gates of the Mictlan. Do you both a world of good."
Marcus drapes the pendant around his head. Then he starts running again. Somehow, he isn't surprised when the anciano keeps up. "This is Diego, huh?" Tears threaten to choke him, and the dark clouds seem darker.
"You really should learn a bit more about your father's family, boy." The old man easily kept pace, causing several onlookers to laugh and point. The old man stumbled and fell, but jumped back up again so it almost looked like he'd done a cartwheel. "Why do the stupid things always have to happen to me?" He complained to the darkening sky.
"So, you know my father?"
"Of course." the old man hacked out a loogie that flew back and hit one of the runners behind them in the chest. The squawks of indignation did nothing to slow him down. "I'd check under the 'Aztec' section of your library, lad."
"And the jaguar?"
"That's him."
"My father is a jaguar?" Marcus started laughing, loud and bitter. The viejito knocked him over the head with a stick.
"Show respect for your betters." He scolded, eyes flashing black, accompanied by thunder. The rain started, coating Marcus and his Shadow like a thick slime, but it didn't seem to touch the old man. "This is all non-official, you understand. Even the jaguar isn't really your father... think of him as a messenger."
"What does he want?"
"Nobody knows, but it's best to give it to him. He has a nasty habit of making things go all to hell whenever he gets upset, our Tezcatlipoca." A crash of thunder echoed across the dead desert, their shoes squelching in the mud. the old man looked down at his wrist where an elaborate watch with three circles, one inside the other, was ticking away. "Sorry, but I gotta go. Talk to you later, boy!" And he disappeared.
The first six miles the rain fell heavy and wet on Marcus and Shadow. In the darkness of the clouds, it seemed like they were the only two living things in the world. The thunder ricocheted above their heads, like mountains crashing into each other. Finally, it lets off, for only for a mile before the winds pick up. If anything, it grows darker, the sun disappearing behind a wall of sand that cuts at Marcus like a thousand knives of obsidian.
The road turns, and the wind dies as suddenly as it came. In front of Marcus are nine Catrinas, their bony faces smeared with lipstick, flowers growing from their eye sockets. "Who are the first of Omeyocan?" Intoned the first of the Catrinas.
"In the beginning, there was the Shaper and the Framer, She Who Has Borne Children and He Who Has Begotten Sons. It is the day of Cipactli the crocodile, a day of auspicious beginnings." his dog Shadow said, and Marcus jumped. Around his neck, the little hummingbird pendant hummed to life and tore free of the necklace, a flying creature of metal that hummed to him.
The Catrinas disappeared, and Marcus and Shadow continued on. At the ninth mile are eight Catrinas, and again, Marcus stops with Shadow. "What is the second Tonalli?" She trills.
Once again, Shadow answers, "The second tonalli is ehecatl, the wind. The second test of the underworld is the field with a wind that scrapes the flesh." A Catrina holds up an obsidian blade to Marcus, who takes it and slices the flesh of his palm. The Catrinas disappear, and they continue on.
Marcus is convinced he is travelling in a dream world. Maybe I am lying next to the road somewhere, he thinks idly, unconscious. At the eleventh mile seven Catrinas appear to him. Before they can say anything, his dog Shadow barks "The third day is a day of rest," and the Catrinas disappear.
"How is it you can talk, all of the sudden?" Marcus pants as they keep running.
"Dogs are the natural guides to the underworld," Shadow says, "Ever since our great grandfather Cerberus. or was it Xolotl? Anubis? Anyways, we've had the job for a long time. What kind of guides would we be, if we couldn't talk to those close to death?"
At the thirteenth mile, six Catrinas appear. "They will try to stop you here," Shadow says, "Trick you off the track. No matter what you see or here, keep running."
Marcus keeps running, but the Catrinas call to him in the voice of his grandmother, dead when he turned five. They call out in the voice of his mother, Maria Teresa, and Gregorio his step father. They call out in the voice of Roberto. They call out in the voice of Diego.
Marcus lets the tears stream and and barrels past them, pushing their rickety bones out of his way. Long after he's passed them, their voices wheel into the air like vultures after him.
"Why did you not save us?"
At the sixteenth mile, five Catrinas appear on the banks of a wide river. "Carry one of them on your back across the river," Shadow instructs, and Marcus picks up one with yellow cactus flowers for eyes. She grips around his neck tightly with her bone fingers, weighing heavy like bricks on his back, like she is made of stone instead of bones. Marcus wades out into the water, the Catrina's great yellow dress catching between his legs in the current, struggling not to fall into its cool embrace. In the river he can see snakes curling around his legs, and he struggles not to scream. His back aches with the skeletal passenger, but he manages to cross the river. Finally, he sets her down, but she continues to stand before him.
"Why doesn't she disappear?" Marcus asks.
"You need to unburden yourself of personal interest. Humbling yourself across the river was not enough. What else will you give?" Shadow says.
Marcus strips off his shirt and hands it to the Catrina, who accepts it and hands him a flower from one of her eyes. Marcus takes the flower and holds it out to the little hummingbird which has followed him like a green jewel on the wind. After it sips, it says, "thank you."
"Diego?" Marcus asks in disbelief. "You're a hummingbird! I thought you killed yourself."
"I did." The hummingbird flew to Marcus's hand, landing neatly and making the cactus prickles to tear into his hand a bit. He winced, but it was okay. "I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry, Diego." Marcus broke down, crying. "It was my dad. He made you do it."
"No, it was me, Marcus. It was my father. I was miserable. I never took you to my house, you don't know the kind of hell I was going through. He knew I was a maricon." Diego's voice was calm like ice, cracking on the edges. "I was nothing to him. He beat me, my sisters, tia Regina. Family was nothing to him. He said he wouldn't let me betray him. You and Colibri were the only things I had left. Then he took those away from he too. Marcus, he-"
"You could have told us!" Marcus shouted, "We were your friends!" He added quietly, "I thought I was more than a friend."
"It doesn't matter anymore, Marcus. I thought dying would make it all go away, but I'm still trapped here."
They stand together silently, Marcus and the little hummingbird and the dog waiting next to them. Marcus wishes their was a way he could hug Diego one last time, kiss him, but it's gone. Diego is there, close enough to whisper, but he might as well be farther than the stars.
"That's what we're doing," Marcus says, suddenly decisive. "We're figuring out a way to get you out of this weird, half-death space."
"Exactly, Marcus" Shadow says. "Nice to hear from you again, Diego."
"You two know each other?" Marcus asked, pulling himself together.
"I guide the souls of the dead, remember? I've been trying to get Diego to pass over ever since your step-dad bought me." Shadow chuckles, "Didn't make too much headway until today, though. Anyways, come on, boys, we still have five more Catrinas to get past.
They continue on. At the eighteenth mile, they again come across the old man, together with a skeletal gentleman in leathers that rustle disturbingly in the wind. It's impossible to tell the nationality of the gentleman, he could be white, or black, or Latino, or anything. Small black flecks of sand whirl around him in a miniature whirlwind, and as he moves he makes the sound of a rope whistling in the air. Flanking them on either side are the four left over Catrinas.
"Revered masters," Shadow says politely to the two men. Marcus bows deeply, getting the feeling that the old Mexica might be a bit more important than he'd thought. The other gentleman is definitely creepy in his coat of skins.
"Guide, you know you must leave these two soon," the Mexica says. He turns to Marcus, saying, "I'm glad you've gotten this far, boy, but the next steps are harder yet." He draws a crescent in the sand. One by one the Catrinas and the gentleman each draw another form of the moon, gibbous, full, and new. "If your home was burning, what would you carry out with you? And don't say the fire. I hate that wishy-washy, modern answer. Completely misses the point of the question."
Marcus stepped up without hesitation and put the names of Diego, his mother, Luisa, Miguel, and Gregorio under each phase of the moon, but at the full moon Shadow nudges him with his nose. "Write your own name." He whispers. Marcus spells out each letter, and they wriggle to form pictures: a fountain and an eagle head.
"You should let me go," Diego says softly, little hummingbird wings beating. Marcus nods and passes his palm through the sand. Diego is already dead.
The old Mexica smiles and nods. "Now erase another one." Marcus slowly, looking sharply at the man, erases Gregorio. "Now another."
Shadow whispers "Do not erase your own name," and Marcus pauses, before going on to Luisa.
"Now, another."
Marcus swallows, and erases Miguel's name.
"So you are left with two, as in the beginning." The gentleman in skins intones. The two men and the Catrinas disappear, and they continue on.
As they are running, Shadow says, "The old man is right, you know. I'll follow you as far as I can, but you'll have to take the last leg of your journey by yourselves."
"What can you tell us?" Marcus asks, "And thank you, Shadow."
The dog laughs again, a happy barking sound, and surges forward. "I appreciate it, but lets get through the next bit first, okay?"
At the twenty first mile, three Catrinas stand before them, flower eyes and skull faces silent. Slowly they shift, changing shape, skin flowing across their bones and flesh filling them out even as they drop to all fours. Their teeth lengthen, and fur ripples to cover them, yellow with black rosettes, like the flowers that they still use for eyes.
"This is the Hunt. Run!" Shadow barks. Marcus needs no encouragement, and despite his burning muscles and aching side, bursts into a sprint as much as he can. His breath comes in gasps, and his head is light. He almost stumbles, and feels a slight tearing at one ankle, but leaps away and continues on. Finally, at the twenty fourth mile, his dog Shadow pants, "Here I must leave you."
The dog turns and faces the jaguars, who stalk slowly closer, lips red, teeth bright. Marcus stops too. "We'll fight them together," He pants, but the dog shakes his head wryly.
"Fighting isn't what I had in mind," he said, and walks calmly towards the three transformed Catrinas. In a moment they are upon him, ripping and tearing. Marcus starts forward, but Shadow's voice floats up above his anguished yelps.
"This is the day of sacrifice, Marcus. I'm giving myself to you, so you can continue on your journey."
The jaguars look up from their kill, jaws dripping blood, expressionless flower eyes, and pad away, disappearing into the darkness.
Marcus and the hummingbird stare at them for a moment, and then continue on the road, smack, smack, smack, smack, weary feet against the pavement. Only two miles, 385 yards left.
Finally, they reach what should have been the finish line. Instead, they find a great pyramidal temple, with three hundred and sixty five steps. Marcus counts them as he jogs up slowly, wearily to the top.
There, the hummingbird wavers and disappears, replaced by an image of Diego, as Marcus last saw him alive, wavery, like a reflection in dark water. On an alter is the body of Diego, and to one side of the body is the old Mexica, his wrinkled head now replaced by the head of Shadow, and on the other side is a skeleton man with roses for eyes, dressed in human skins, and in the center, sitting on top of the body, is the Jaguar, missing a paw, eyes of obsidian, tail twitching. In his mouth is an obsidian knife.
<Even the Gods must make sacrifices, cub.> The Jaguar's voice rumbles in his head.
Marcus slowly approaches the altar. Wincing, he cuts into the body and pulls out the heart. Blood stains his hands, and he hands the heart to the man in flayed skins, who places it into his own chest. The heart catches purple fire, and as it burns the skin flies up and wraps itself around him, smoothing into flesh, and suddenly it is Diego, skinny Diego who loved el Robot de Madera, with the bright eyes, who whispered that Marcus was beautiful in the night, who loved skate boarding and should never have been found hanging in his closet by Regina, standing their with flowers for eyes and smiling at him.
"Thank you," he says. "I have a few moments, before I go. Marcus, my father is an evil man. I've always known that, ever since my mother left, it was his fault. I've seen the bodies he makes of the men who displease him. I could never take anyone home, where you might be in his power, least of all you. But," he takes a deep breath, lets it out in a smell like carnations, "but I need to ask you to do something. Under my bed is a loose floorboard with a safe. The password is your name. Ask Regina to get it for you."
Diego was quiet for a moment. "My father found out I was going to turn him in to the police. He threatened to kill his own sister Regina, he threatened to kill you when he found out I cared about you. I didn't really kill myself, Marcus. Don Caligula, the father of my body hung me to make it look like a suicide."
He walks off, into the distance on air, towards the rising sun, and the old Mexica turns into a hairless dog and lopes after him.
...
Marcus opens his eyes, and hears the cheers of the crowd as he crosses the finish line. He is soaked and sweaty, and his mama catches him up and wraps him in a towel, hustling him to the covered pavilions and pyres they have burning around a big soccer field, helping him to get warm, giving him a glass of cocoa. The rain still beats down on the parched soil. Miguel and Luisa and Silvia, and Regina, and Gregorio are there. They take pictures, and smile, and Marcus thinks about what Don Caligula did to his son.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Loss
Two weeks later Regina descended on the Alarcon household. Maria Teresa answered the door, and the woman strutted in.
"Where is that little monster!" She growled.
"Excuse me?" said Marcus's mother in outrage.
Marcus was upstairs, peering over the side of the banister. As soon as he saw who it was, he rushed downstairs. "Tia Regina, what's wrong?" he asked anxiously.
Regina answered him with a slap to the face. The impact knocked Marcus to the floor.
Maria Teresa slapped her back, screaming, "Bruja loco! Whore! Sacate de mi casa! Don't you dare touch my son!"
Howling in rage, Regina flung herself towards Marcus, but his mother held her back. Tochtli started crying in the other room. Teresa Maria joined her twin. Marcus realized vaguely he was shouting.
"What did I do! Que hice?" He was shocked, angry, scared, he didn't know what. His pulse pounded in his ears. They've found out, was all he could think.
"Because of you my nephew is dead!" Regina screamed at him. Suddenly she collapsed. Maria half-carried, half-shoved the woman out the door, but Marcus pulled her back.
"What?" Marcus asked, voice trembling. He sank to the floor with Regina. Vaguely he noticed the woman's mascara running, her lipstick smudged.
"Marcus, who is this woman? What's going on?" Maria demanded.
"Diego is dead," Regina sobbed. Marcus held her, headless of the howls, the fists she drummed on his back, pounding over and over again, almost out of reflex.
Tears are a strange thing. They're meant to cleanse the eyes, but for a small moment they make everything harder to see. Wet trickled down Marcus's cheeks. He didn't know if they were Regina's tears, or his own.
A moment later Maria was leading them both gently into the living room. She offered them both drinks, a wet rag for Regina's face. Regina wiped all of her makeup off, laughing between choked sobs.
"I'm sorry," she said to Maria, "You must think I'm crazy, barging in and attacking your son. I'm a passionate woman, I know. I know it's not his fault, not really."
Marcus sat curled on the couch, half-listening, half dreaming.
"You're Diego's aunt? What happened? Why do you think my son is involved?"
Regina handed over a note, which Maria Teresa read wordlessly.
"I found him this morning ha-hanging," she stumbled, "in his closet. He'd left this note under my door, but by the time I'd seen it... he was already gone." She laughed again, bitter, harsh. "I feel like I'm the only one mourning him. His father said nothing, only asked when breakfast would be served. His mother's been missing for years. I was the only one he had, and..." Regina glanced at Marcus, "I know he had some friends."
"Marcus, this note says that you kissed that boy?" Maria Teresa went on, uncomprehending.
Marcus said nothing.
"Marcus, answer your mother when I'm talking to you!" Maria Teresa said, shouting.
Instead it was Regina again that spoke. "Diego told me maybe a couple months ago about his affliction. I tried my best to help him. I tried to keep him pure, long before he said anything. I thought something like this would happen."
Maria Teresa rounded on her. "Something like two boys falling in love? What a shame that would have been, eh? Grand work you did, mujer, driving them apart. Now no one will have Diego! You made sure of that! If anyone's responsible for his death, it's you!"
Regina stood quickly, face red, but Marcus rushed between them. "Momma, she's upset. She just lost someone dear to her." He turned to Diego's aunt. "I'm sorry, tia. You know I'd never hurt Diego. Tia, I'm sorry."
Regina's face lost it's color gradually. Clutching her bag, she stammered, "I've got to go," and she practically ran out the door. A moment later they heard her car peeling away.
The funeral was at the end of the week. Family only. Carnation bouquets. Regina made regular calls, keeping Marcus updated.
Maria Teresa asked her son if he wanted to visit the graveyard on the day of the funeral, maybe watch from afar, but he only shook his head. Instead, he went to the hummingbird. The streets were crowded, loud and painfully cheerful, the sun was shining its fire on his back, sticking his clothes to his skin like mud, and dust choked his throat. When he finally came to the spot, he almost didn't recognize it.
The wall had been whitewashed. The jaguar, his family, the boat, the girl, the hummingbird, it had all been stripped away and laid bare, a desert of empty walls.
Colibrí was gone.
"Where is that little monster!" She growled.
"Excuse me?" said Marcus's mother in outrage.
Marcus was upstairs, peering over the side of the banister. As soon as he saw who it was, he rushed downstairs. "Tia Regina, what's wrong?" he asked anxiously.
Regina answered him with a slap to the face. The impact knocked Marcus to the floor.
Maria Teresa slapped her back, screaming, "Bruja loco! Whore! Sacate de mi casa! Don't you dare touch my son!"
Howling in rage, Regina flung herself towards Marcus, but his mother held her back. Tochtli started crying in the other room. Teresa Maria joined her twin. Marcus realized vaguely he was shouting.
"What did I do! Que hice?" He was shocked, angry, scared, he didn't know what. His pulse pounded in his ears. They've found out, was all he could think.
"Because of you my nephew is dead!" Regina screamed at him. Suddenly she collapsed. Maria half-carried, half-shoved the woman out the door, but Marcus pulled her back.
"What?" Marcus asked, voice trembling. He sank to the floor with Regina. Vaguely he noticed the woman's mascara running, her lipstick smudged.
"Marcus, who is this woman? What's going on?" Maria demanded.
"Diego is dead," Regina sobbed. Marcus held her, headless of the howls, the fists she drummed on his back, pounding over and over again, almost out of reflex.
Tears are a strange thing. They're meant to cleanse the eyes, but for a small moment they make everything harder to see. Wet trickled down Marcus's cheeks. He didn't know if they were Regina's tears, or his own.
A moment later Maria was leading them both gently into the living room. She offered them both drinks, a wet rag for Regina's face. Regina wiped all of her makeup off, laughing between choked sobs.
"I'm sorry," she said to Maria, "You must think I'm crazy, barging in and attacking your son. I'm a passionate woman, I know. I know it's not his fault, not really."
Marcus sat curled on the couch, half-listening, half dreaming.
"You're Diego's aunt? What happened? Why do you think my son is involved?"
Regina handed over a note, which Maria Teresa read wordlessly.
"I found him this morning ha-hanging," she stumbled, "in his closet. He'd left this note under my door, but by the time I'd seen it... he was already gone." She laughed again, bitter, harsh. "I feel like I'm the only one mourning him. His father said nothing, only asked when breakfast would be served. His mother's been missing for years. I was the only one he had, and..." Regina glanced at Marcus, "I know he had some friends."
"Marcus, this note says that you kissed that boy?" Maria Teresa went on, uncomprehending.
Marcus said nothing.
"Marcus, answer your mother when I'm talking to you!" Maria Teresa said, shouting.
Instead it was Regina again that spoke. "Diego told me maybe a couple months ago about his affliction. I tried my best to help him. I tried to keep him pure, long before he said anything. I thought something like this would happen."
Maria Teresa rounded on her. "Something like two boys falling in love? What a shame that would have been, eh? Grand work you did, mujer, driving them apart. Now no one will have Diego! You made sure of that! If anyone's responsible for his death, it's you!"
Regina stood quickly, face red, but Marcus rushed between them. "Momma, she's upset. She just lost someone dear to her." He turned to Diego's aunt. "I'm sorry, tia. You know I'd never hurt Diego. Tia, I'm sorry."
Regina's face lost it's color gradually. Clutching her bag, she stammered, "I've got to go," and she practically ran out the door. A moment later they heard her car peeling away.
The funeral was at the end of the week. Family only. Carnation bouquets. Regina made regular calls, keeping Marcus updated.
Maria Teresa asked her son if he wanted to visit the graveyard on the day of the funeral, maybe watch from afar, but he only shook his head. Instead, he went to the hummingbird. The streets were crowded, loud and painfully cheerful, the sun was shining its fire on his back, sticking his clothes to his skin like mud, and dust choked his throat. When he finally came to the spot, he almost didn't recognize it.
The wall had been whitewashed. The jaguar, his family, the boat, the girl, the hummingbird, it had all been stripped away and laid bare, a desert of empty walls.
Colibrí was gone.
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Day of Movement
It is two years later, and the twins are little handfuls that grab anything their manitos can carry and shove into their mouths. Insects, rocks, lipstick, and dog food are devoured with equal abandon.
Little Teresa Maria is already a lady, swishing her skirts and babying her dollies and learning el baile arabe. Tochtli is a terror. He hides wherever he can, only to pounce on 'unsuspecting' visitors and gnaw on their ankles. Marcus coddles and hugs and kisses the squirming beasts, and watches them when his parents go out. They want to grow up to be smart and strong, like their big brother.
Maria Teresa and Gregorio have gone out this day, to see the movie El Diario de Noa. This evening it is Marcus alone with his little brother and sister. After running them down, Marcus drags them giggling to their beds, tucking them in and telling them stories of the gato solapado. When, finally, they lie still in their beds, chests rising and falling evenly, Marcus leaves their room and pads down the hall.
Two months ago they moved into this new house. It is stucco, whitewashed, and open, much cooler in the summer than the cramped 2 bedroom apartment they'd been stuffed in before. The floors are wooden and creak softly with age, and the ceilings are high with exposed wooden beams and recesses. Their are enough rooms so that Marcus can have his own, and the twins when they are older. For now, Gregorio uses the room that will be Tochtli's as an office. Through the windows are glimpses of the sea, and palm trees clutch the square corners of the house with a lover's delicate touch. They have grass now, a real yard. Pink shingles round the flat roof, where a patio complete with chairs and small tables has been set up. Over the patio a brown grass awning rustles softly with the breeze. It is un paradiso, worlds better than the streets of Oaxaca.
The wall of the hummingbird is further away now, and visited only twice a year, on Roberto's birthday and El Dia de Los Muertos. Marcus and his friends have moved on to other "beautification projects" throughout the city. Once or twice a shopkeeper even offered to pay them, but the only payment they accept is in paints. It is better that way.
Marcus has taken to talking to shopkeepers and tenants, asking tacit permission before they start the next project. Diego would make fun of him for it, but Marcus feels better knowing they won't have the policia, and Gregorio, called on them.
Silvia moved away, and then Miguel stopped coming, but Marcus, Diego, and Luisa have gained a reputation. They hear the people discuss the murallas of Colibrí, and they smile.
Marcus is working on the design of another mural when he hears someone at the door. He checks the window first, and then smiles and opens the gate for Diego.
"Put on a shirt, Marcus," Diego says, grinning. "Siempre eres loco de ser desnudo."
"Y bueno," Marcus concedes. "Give me a second then. Why don't you sit down?" Marcus rushes to his room and is coming back into the living room even before his shirt is all the way over his head. "Is Luisa coming?"
"No," Diego answered, watching Marcus with haunted eyes. "She said she had some homework or something lame like that."
"Then why do I have to wear clothes, if it's just you and me?" Marcus asks. Diego gives him and look, and Marcus wonders for the hundredth time if he's revealed himself. If his best friend knows that he's a maricon.
"Let's play Grand Theft Auto," Diego suggests, and they settle down into companionable silence.
Something is bothering Diego tonight. Something's been bothering him for the past couple weeks, maybe months. He used to laugh so easily, but Marcus has noticed his eyes get an aching look. The brightness has been replaced by shadow. Diego is hiding something big. Marcus thinks it's probably something to do with his family, but Diego has always been extremely tight-lipped about them. With the exception of tia Regina, Marcus has not met anyone else.
So they play video games, and when Diego gets upset and throws the controller across the room, Marcus yells, "Oye, cabron! watch out with things that are not yours!" and picks it up, but doesn't get too upset. When he turns back around, Diego is crying.
"What's up?" Marcus stands awkwardly in the middle of the room. He's hadn't seen Diego cry in years, even when unos chulos beat him up last spring. Roberto's funeral was the last time. Diego is curled up into a ball, and no sound comes out of him, but he shakes with quiet sobs, and tears stream his cheeks. His breath shudders.
Marcus slowly approaches the couch and sits on the far side, holding his own legs close to his chest. "Mira, you're making me nervous. What's wrong Diego? We're best friends. Maybe I can help."
"You ca-, you can't." Diego hiccups. "I just, I-" he stops. He sucks in a shuddering breath. "You would hate me if you only knew..." He stops.
"If I only knew... what?" Marcus kept his voice soft, watched with soft eyes. Slowly he stretched out a hand, fingers wrapping around fingers. Sitting like these he was stretched out, clenched inside, and listening to every soft sound; every silent shake, every soft snore of the twins, every dark rustle of the night wind.
"Diego, I'll always be their for you. I promise."
Diego wipes his eyes with his free hand and sniffs. Marcus notices a yellowish bruise on his cheek that wasn't their the day before, bruises along one arm. Slowly David unwinds his body, pulling his hand away. He sits woodenly, his voice wooden, his eyes straight ahead at the loading screen of Grand Theft Auto.
"Marcus, soy un homosexual." Diego's eyes flicker quickly to his friend's face, but touch back to the ground before he can see the hope leaping in Marcus's eyes. "Nobody knew except tia Regina. Not even Luisa, until last week. Not you." His voice runs, like he has a million things to say and is afraid to be interrupted. "But I've wanted to tell you, I didn't like hiding and then when something ... happened... I knew I couldn't tell anyone. I'm sorry. I know you'll probably hate me now. I told Luisa you would. She said I should tell you anyway. I'm sorry. I hope it doesn't change things. I don't want to ruin our friendship, I know everything is all mixed up. But my dad found out a couple months ago, and it's been... pretty bad at home. I'm sorry. I just needed to tell someone. I hope we can still work on Colibrí stuff. I'm sorry."
Marcus inched closer with each whispered 'I'm sorry'. His own voice is raspy. "Diego, it's okay." He takes a shoulder, and then the other. Diego melts in his arms, shuddering, crying. "Diego, te quiero. Está bien." Marcus whispered the words into the curly black hair again. "Te amo. It's alright."
Slowly, after a few minutes, Diego sat up. His smile was like the sun breaking through a summer storm. "Luisa said you'd take it well, but I didn't believe her. I've just gotten used to... well, I didn't think you'd want to be my friend after this."
Marcus grinned. He couldn't stop staring, his heart was thudding. "I'm, um. Well, I like boys too." Marcus said quietly.
"What?" Diego growled. "Why didn't you tell me! Everything would have been so much easier if only you'd... if you'd said something!" His voice started to crack again.
"I couldn't tell you," Marcus said quietly. "I was scared." Marcus watched expressions flicker in Diego's eyes: surprise, anger, disbelief, sadness, terror; and behind them all, hope. "I couldn't tell you because I wanted to so badly." There noses were almost touching. Their breath mingled. "I've kind of liked you for the past two years, almost since I met you, Diego."
Marcus touched his lips gently to Diego's. Diego jerked slightly, then leaned into it, fierce and hungry. His arms came up around Marco's shoulders. A second later he'd backed away.
"I- I can't." Diego lets his hands drop and stares at his fingers.
"Can't what?" Marcus breathes.
"Es un pecado." Diego whispers.
"It doesn't feel like sin," Marcus whispers back. Still, he pulls away too. "Wow." He reaches out a hand alive with nerves, fingers trembling, and Diego grabs his hand before it can fall. They sit like that for uncountable minutes, holding hands, cheek to cheek.
Finally Diego checks his watch. "Marcus, I gotta go. I'm super late getting home."
"Stay."
"No seriously, my dad will kill me if he finds out I've been out this late. I have to go." Diego surges to his feet. Marcus stands as well.
"I'll walk out with you." He doesn't let go of Diego's fingers until they are standing outside next to the bikes. Diego fumbles with his lock for a long time. He stands up, looking with shining eyes at Marcus, and after long seconds leans over the bike and deliberately kisses Marcus. His hand comes up behind Marcus's head.
Vaguely, Marcus is surprised to notice that Diego is now taller, by a couple centimeters.
After the kiss, Diego mounts his bike easily and pedals hard. Marcus watches him ride away, swift wheels flying through the darkness. His heart flutters wildly in his chest and he can barely breath.
That's when he turns back to the house and notices the jaguar on the roof.
The eyes of the creature shine with a strange green light in the darkness. It watches Marcus, and he can hear silent, grim laughter echoing in his mind. The jaguar slowly stands up and limps to the edge of the roof, leaping to the ground. A moment later it pads silently past him, out the gate, and disappears in darkness.
Little Teresa Maria is already a lady, swishing her skirts and babying her dollies and learning el baile arabe. Tochtli is a terror. He hides wherever he can, only to pounce on 'unsuspecting' visitors and gnaw on their ankles. Marcus coddles and hugs and kisses the squirming beasts, and watches them when his parents go out. They want to grow up to be smart and strong, like their big brother.
Maria Teresa and Gregorio have gone out this day, to see the movie El Diario de Noa. This evening it is Marcus alone with his little brother and sister. After running them down, Marcus drags them giggling to their beds, tucking them in and telling them stories of the gato solapado. When, finally, they lie still in their beds, chests rising and falling evenly, Marcus leaves their room and pads down the hall.
Two months ago they moved into this new house. It is stucco, whitewashed, and open, much cooler in the summer than the cramped 2 bedroom apartment they'd been stuffed in before. The floors are wooden and creak softly with age, and the ceilings are high with exposed wooden beams and recesses. Their are enough rooms so that Marcus can have his own, and the twins when they are older. For now, Gregorio uses the room that will be Tochtli's as an office. Through the windows are glimpses of the sea, and palm trees clutch the square corners of the house with a lover's delicate touch. They have grass now, a real yard. Pink shingles round the flat roof, where a patio complete with chairs and small tables has been set up. Over the patio a brown grass awning rustles softly with the breeze. It is un paradiso, worlds better than the streets of Oaxaca.
The wall of the hummingbird is further away now, and visited only twice a year, on Roberto's birthday and El Dia de Los Muertos. Marcus and his friends have moved on to other "beautification projects" throughout the city. Once or twice a shopkeeper even offered to pay them, but the only payment they accept is in paints. It is better that way.
Marcus has taken to talking to shopkeepers and tenants, asking tacit permission before they start the next project. Diego would make fun of him for it, but Marcus feels better knowing they won't have the policia, and Gregorio, called on them.
Silvia moved away, and then Miguel stopped coming, but Marcus, Diego, and Luisa have gained a reputation. They hear the people discuss the murallas of Colibrí, and they smile.
Marcus is working on the design of another mural when he hears someone at the door. He checks the window first, and then smiles and opens the gate for Diego.
"Put on a shirt, Marcus," Diego says, grinning. "Siempre eres loco de ser desnudo."
"Y bueno," Marcus concedes. "Give me a second then. Why don't you sit down?" Marcus rushes to his room and is coming back into the living room even before his shirt is all the way over his head. "Is Luisa coming?"
"No," Diego answered, watching Marcus with haunted eyes. "She said she had some homework or something lame like that."
"Then why do I have to wear clothes, if it's just you and me?" Marcus asks. Diego gives him and look, and Marcus wonders for the hundredth time if he's revealed himself. If his best friend knows that he's a maricon.
"Let's play Grand Theft Auto," Diego suggests, and they settle down into companionable silence.
Something is bothering Diego tonight. Something's been bothering him for the past couple weeks, maybe months. He used to laugh so easily, but Marcus has noticed his eyes get an aching look. The brightness has been replaced by shadow. Diego is hiding something big. Marcus thinks it's probably something to do with his family, but Diego has always been extremely tight-lipped about them. With the exception of tia Regina, Marcus has not met anyone else.
So they play video games, and when Diego gets upset and throws the controller across the room, Marcus yells, "Oye, cabron! watch out with things that are not yours!" and picks it up, but doesn't get too upset. When he turns back around, Diego is crying.
"What's up?" Marcus stands awkwardly in the middle of the room. He's hadn't seen Diego cry in years, even when unos chulos beat him up last spring. Roberto's funeral was the last time. Diego is curled up into a ball, and no sound comes out of him, but he shakes with quiet sobs, and tears stream his cheeks. His breath shudders.
Marcus slowly approaches the couch and sits on the far side, holding his own legs close to his chest. "Mira, you're making me nervous. What's wrong Diego? We're best friends. Maybe I can help."
"You ca-, you can't." Diego hiccups. "I just, I-" he stops. He sucks in a shuddering breath. "You would hate me if you only knew..." He stops.
"If I only knew... what?" Marcus kept his voice soft, watched with soft eyes. Slowly he stretched out a hand, fingers wrapping around fingers. Sitting like these he was stretched out, clenched inside, and listening to every soft sound; every silent shake, every soft snore of the twins, every dark rustle of the night wind.
"Diego, I'll always be their for you. I promise."
Diego wipes his eyes with his free hand and sniffs. Marcus notices a yellowish bruise on his cheek that wasn't their the day before, bruises along one arm. Slowly David unwinds his body, pulling his hand away. He sits woodenly, his voice wooden, his eyes straight ahead at the loading screen of Grand Theft Auto.
"Marcus, soy un homosexual." Diego's eyes flicker quickly to his friend's face, but touch back to the ground before he can see the hope leaping in Marcus's eyes. "Nobody knew except tia Regina. Not even Luisa, until last week. Not you." His voice runs, like he has a million things to say and is afraid to be interrupted. "But I've wanted to tell you, I didn't like hiding and then when something ... happened... I knew I couldn't tell anyone. I'm sorry. I know you'll probably hate me now. I told Luisa you would. She said I should tell you anyway. I'm sorry. I hope it doesn't change things. I don't want to ruin our friendship, I know everything is all mixed up. But my dad found out a couple months ago, and it's been... pretty bad at home. I'm sorry. I just needed to tell someone. I hope we can still work on Colibrí stuff. I'm sorry."
Marcus inched closer with each whispered 'I'm sorry'. His own voice is raspy. "Diego, it's okay." He takes a shoulder, and then the other. Diego melts in his arms, shuddering, crying. "Diego, te quiero. Está bien." Marcus whispered the words into the curly black hair again. "Te amo. It's alright."
Slowly, after a few minutes, Diego sat up. His smile was like the sun breaking through a summer storm. "Luisa said you'd take it well, but I didn't believe her. I've just gotten used to... well, I didn't think you'd want to be my friend after this."
Marcus grinned. He couldn't stop staring, his heart was thudding. "I'm, um. Well, I like boys too." Marcus said quietly.
"What?" Diego growled. "Why didn't you tell me! Everything would have been so much easier if only you'd... if you'd said something!" His voice started to crack again.
"I couldn't tell you," Marcus said quietly. "I was scared." Marcus watched expressions flicker in Diego's eyes: surprise, anger, disbelief, sadness, terror; and behind them all, hope. "I couldn't tell you because I wanted to so badly." There noses were almost touching. Their breath mingled. "I've kind of liked you for the past two years, almost since I met you, Diego."
Marcus touched his lips gently to Diego's. Diego jerked slightly, then leaned into it, fierce and hungry. His arms came up around Marco's shoulders. A second later he'd backed away.
"I- I can't." Diego lets his hands drop and stares at his fingers.
"Can't what?" Marcus breathes.
"Es un pecado." Diego whispers.
"It doesn't feel like sin," Marcus whispers back. Still, he pulls away too. "Wow." He reaches out a hand alive with nerves, fingers trembling, and Diego grabs his hand before it can fall. They sit like that for uncountable minutes, holding hands, cheek to cheek.
Finally Diego checks his watch. "Marcus, I gotta go. I'm super late getting home."
"Stay."
"No seriously, my dad will kill me if he finds out I've been out this late. I have to go." Diego surges to his feet. Marcus stands as well.
"I'll walk out with you." He doesn't let go of Diego's fingers until they are standing outside next to the bikes. Diego fumbles with his lock for a long time. He stands up, looking with shining eyes at Marcus, and after long seconds leans over the bike and deliberately kisses Marcus. His hand comes up behind Marcus's head.
Vaguely, Marcus is surprised to notice that Diego is now taller, by a couple centimeters.
After the kiss, Diego mounts his bike easily and pedals hard. Marcus watches him ride away, swift wheels flying through the darkness. His heart flutters wildly in his chest and he can barely breath.
That's when he turns back to the house and notices the jaguar on the roof.
The eyes of the creature shine with a strange green light in the darkness. It watches Marcus, and he can hear silent, grim laughter echoing in his mind. The jaguar slowly stands up and limps to the edge of the roof, leaping to the ground. A moment later it pads silently past him, out the gate, and disappears in darkness.
Monday, November 18, 2013
Ehecatl
It is spring, and the hallways of the colegio are crowded with guys cat-calling and goofing around. Girls huddle in gossip flocks as they migrate from one classroom to the next.
Marcus jumps a bit when Diego comes up behind him, flinging an arm over his shoulder. "Oye cabron, don't be scared. What's up? Senor Marchinares practically had to yell at you to get you to pay attention last period." Diego's arm is like a hot brand over his shoulder.
"My mom's having her babies right now," Marcus stammers. "I got called to the office halfway through 2nd period. Gregorio told me she was in the hospital, right now. I'm going to be a brother."
"No way! Why aren't you skipping school, then?"
Marcus recites the whole glum explanation in one breath. "Gregorio said that mom said not to skip school, because she doesn't want me underfoot at the hospital, and the babies probably won't be born until after I get out of school anyways, so their is no point in just waiting and doing nothing when I can be at school."
Diego laughs easily. "You're not even learning anything here. Hey, why don't we just skip right now?"
"What, just us two?" Marcus perks up, trying unsuccessfully to remain casual. He notices the new earrings that Diego is wearing, little black studs that twinkle, and the way his dark eyebrows crouch and leap with each phrase. Diego always has this way of animating everything he says, like it's the coolest thing int the world.
"Sure. You're not even learning anything, and I'm bored with school anyways. If we try to get Miguel to come the teachers might catch us. Let's just go right now." Diego whispers, and Marcus jumps at the soft brush of air against his neck.
"Yeah, okay." Marcus slams his locker shut, twirling the dial a few times. "Where are we going?"
"The wall of course," Diego says, grinning. "Where else?"
...
Over the past couple months the hummingbird has been joined by a couple riding a bicycle, an eagle clutching the sun in its claws, a sailboat on the ocean, and a woman with big red lips and red flowers in her black hair that flowed out until it turned to blue lines sparkling with stars.
They topple their bikes near in the cool shadow of the walls and get to work. At first they'd been nervous someone would catch them, and they would only come in the early mornings. The first hummingbird had chipped off, and they always raced home and cleaned up before anyone could discover them.
Then one day Marcus heard Gregorio talking about the mural. Gregorio was policia, and he should have been worried about catching the perpetrators, but Gregorio and his police friends were talking about some of the beautiful street art they'd seen.
"But Gregorio, aren't you supposed to catch the people who are painting the walls?" Marcus had asked later.
"Of course. We're also supposed to catch the street vendors in the plazas. But Acapulco is a big city, Marcus. The policia have more important things to do than track down people that go to so much trouble to make our city beautiful," Gregorio answered. "Things like drug trafficking, and robberies and murders are what I worry about the most. Those are worse things." He shrugged. "If somebody complains, we'll post a lookout. But so far nobody has complained, so we concentrate on the places that need us."
After that conversation, Marcus and his friends had gotten more bold, often going to the wall after school and getting home late and paint stained and exhausted, but content. They soon white-washed the whole wall, and repainted the hummingbird on a proper base coat. Other art projects soon followed, sometimes whitewashed to make way for others, but the hummingbird always remained the same. Sometimes people walking by would say something, offer suggestions, or even ask if they could help.
But today it was just Marcus and Diego. Marcus and the swift boy with cool brown hands and an easy smile. The best friend with bright eyes. The guy Marcus wished would notice him back, and hated himself for wishing it.
Marcus knew what gay was. "Maricon!" He and his friends would shout at each other in the halls of the school, laughing. He was starting to worry that, in his case, it wasn't a joke.
Marcus pulled off his shirt, and tried to ignore it when Diego did the same. They spilled out the spray paints and some brushes from a broken gym bag, together with some little cans of paint, and got to work silently. Diego had out some black spray and was busy drawing out a new piece in broad strokes, a deep golden tan in his other hand. It used to bother Marcus, the silent intensity with which Diego painted, so uncharacteristic at other times. Now he appreciated the chance to concentrate on his own work. Marcus had discovered over the past couple months that he preferred paint brushes to sprays, and now he was hard at work putting the finishing touches on the lady's red flowers and the stars in her hair. When he stepped back from the wall, he noticed what Diego was painting.
A great, stylized cat encircled a woman holding two babies under the sun-and-eagle. Diego was still just outlining the basic design, but already Marcus could imagine the spots rippling across the golden hide, the brilliant green eyes glittering with malice. He didn't like how those eyes peered hungrily at the babies. "What's that, Diego?" Marcus asked, fighting to control his voice.
"Oh, this is Gregorio, um, I mean your dad." Diego said, gesturing to the beast, "I drew him protecting the twins with your mom. And the hawk is you, of course. We're all on the wall." Diego pointed to the bikers. "That's Miguel and Silvia in a few years I bet. They're always whispering to each other and passing notes. I think they'r already going out and they just haven't told us yet. The lady with the stars is Luisa because she loves flowers and when she grows up she's going to be beautiful. I'm the boat, because I want to escape far away."
"It's nice," Miguel said, feeling like he should appreciate the gesture more. "I just don't like my dad pictured as a jaguar."
"I think it's very fitting, personally," said an unfamiliar voice from the mouth of the alley. Marcus and Diego turned, startled. In the light stood an incredibly beautiful woman with lips the color of the dying sun and giant black sunglasses. A wide-brimmed white hat crowned luxurious chocolate colored hair that looked like it should be in a shampoo commercial, and heavy gold jewelry drooped from her wrists, neck, ears, and ankles. She wore a tight leopard print dress with a smart white blazer, and seemed entirely out of place in this dust-and-sun colored neighborhood.
"A father should be a protective influence," She continued. Her hand brushed up the mural. "It's beautiful. So many secrets hidden in its colors." The woman almost sounded hungry. She turned to the boys. "Diego, why don't you introduce me to your friend?"
"Marcus, this is my aunt Regina. Tia, this is my best friend Marcus." Diego's voice sounds wooden. "How did you find me?"
"You know your father keeps close tabs on you," she says. Regina continues to examine the mural. "This is really very beautiful, Diego." She clucks her tongue. "I wish you would apply yourself so fervently to your school work. Anyways, I came to tell you that your father wants you home. Now."
"But-"
"And if you come right away, I won't tell him where I found you," Regina promises. "I was supposed to find you at school."
"Can't you tell him I'm with a friend at the hospital?" Diego asks desperately. His aunt arches one eyebrow above her glasses.
"My mom is having a baby," Marcus butts in, "Two of them, de echo. We were just putting some finishing touches on the wall, and then we were going to the hospital right way." He gestures at the painting of the babies in his mothers arms. "Diego was just keeping me company."
"If Diego comes now, I'm sure I might be able to get him back to the hospital in an hour or two. Diego?" She gestures imperiously, then leaves the entrance, clearly expecting to be followed.
"Nos vemos, Marcus," Diego grumbles, pulling his shirt back over his paint-stained torso. "I'll try to get over their as soon as I can."
Marcus continued to work on the wall for a little bit after that, but he was alone, and the outline of the big cat was bugging him. He really wished that Diego had picked out something different to represent his dad, like a dog, or a police car. Anything else, really.
Marcus packs up and leaves the paints in a shallow depression in the ground, hidden with some old planks and bushes. He bikes home, showers quickly, and checks the time- 11:48. He makes some tacos, hoping to appease Gregorio for skipping school, packs the food into his bag, and heads over to the hospital.
Of course his mother is in expert care; this is the hospital Maria Teresa works at, and she's one of the most well-respected nurses on staff. Still, Marcus worries. And he sees that his step-father does too. Gregorio is sitting in the lobby, trying unsuccessfully to watch TV as a bunch of rambunctious chicos run around, in the process of tearing everything apart. Marcus hands over the tacos, and they munch in relative silence.
The kids leave after a half hour, and a new show comes on. One of the nursing staff comes into the lobby to invite Gregorio back. No, Marcus can't come in, he's too young. Marcus is left alone, except for the old cleaning lady that had been called up to clean after the kids. Slowly she mops up corn flakes and replaces the trash bags in the waste baskets, and then she too is gone.
Marcus kicks the legs of his chair and tries to find something interesting on the TV, but nothing holds his attention. He looks at the books for children, stacks them neatly, finds a Princess coloring book, looks for crayons and finds only yellow, orange, purple, and red, colors a fiery dress, hunts around and finally finds a half broken brown crayon, finishes the princess with skin the color de cafe, turns the page, does another brown princess with purple and pale blue (found when looking for the skin-tone crayon), puts the book away, looks out the window, wanders into the lobby, and finally sits down again to wait.
A woman's voice startles him, and Marcus looks up to see Regina standing in front of him. Her giant sunglasses hid her expression, but Marcus could imagine a hint of pity.
"You know, in the old days twins were considered lucky. They represented the divine duality of all things." She sets herself in the chair next to Marcus, carefully unwinding the turquoise scarf wrapped around her soft curls. "How do you feel about it?"
"I'm doing okay, I guess," Marcus allows. "I think it'll be fun to have some siblings. My friend Miguel has eight sisters and three brothers, and they always have fun together. And Gregorio--that's my mom's husband-- he's really nice. Probably much nicer than my real father." He thinks about the jaguar outline in the alley.
"I'm sure you'll make an excellent big brother," Regina says, smiling. "But you seem troubled."
"Well yeah. I mean, babies are noisy and stuff. Family comes first, my mother always says. If I have to take care of them, I don't think I'll get to spend as much time with my friends." Of course, her own family had abandoned her when he was born. Maria Teresa's sister in California was the only one that still called regularly. And she never, ever mentioned his real dad.
"Diego couldn't come," Regina said gently. "But he wanted me to check up on you. It ended up that his father needed him to stay."
"I thought so," Marcus nodded glumly. Diego seemed afraid of his own father sometimes. At least, he wouldn't ever take any of his friends home with him. Whenever he talked about Gregorio, it was always with a hint of wistfulness.
"Well, Marcus, why don't you tell me all about it?" the old woman put her arm familiarly over Marcus's shoulder, and he found himself spilling everything. Not just about Gregorio and the twins, but about Roberto's death, and how he felt it was his fault; about the jaguar that seemed to follow him everywhere, and the vision of the alligator. Even about the feelings he was scared to admit to himself, for another boy. When he finished he felt drained, like all the darkness he'd kept inside was dredged up and washed away. It scared him, how much he told Regina, but she listened like silk, and he couldn't stop himself.
"Would I know this friend that you like?" Regina probed.
"Probably not," Marcus had answered quickly. "Maybe, me and Diego share allot of friends. Do you know all of his friends?" He managed to keep back only that little piece, that it was her nephew.
"No, but now I know you, Marcus." Regina smiled. "You're a good boy, and you've been wise to confide in me these feelings. They're a horrible burden, I know. But I also believe you will do the right thing and drive them away from you. You can be strong."
Marcus felt tender, like his heart wanted to leap and sink at once, and any moment it would rip itself in half. "I can?"
"I know what you told me is very serious and private. I won't tell anyone, and I suggest that you do not as well." Regina shook her head sadly. "Many people will not be very understanding of you, I know. But I'm glad you trusted me."
Afterwards, the Regina hugged him and smiled in satisfaction, tucking away the disinfectant wipes she'd used to clean Marcus's tears. "I think you know what is best, in your heart," she said. "Your mother raised you right. I know you can be strong against temptation. Como dios quiere."
She checked her watch and stood up suddenly. "Dios mio! I'm going to be late," she said as she rustled Marcus's hair. "I own a little spa, and it's being inspected today." She handed Marcus a card. "Tell your mother to give me a call, and I'll give her a free week of sessions. Childbirth can be rough on a woman's body. You are welcome to come too, if you like."
She hurried to the elevator, turning slightly as she tied her hair back up into into the scarf. "I'm glad Diego has friends like you, Marcus."
Marcus was left alone in the waiting room for another lonely hour until the twins, Tochtli and Teresa Maria, were born. It was a long labor, but Marcus's mother was fine, the twins were fine, everyone was fine. Over the next few weeks Marcus only had a few spare minutes in between diapers, helping his mom around the house, and homework to think about what Regina had said. Still, it circled back in his mind, hovering like a buzzard over a carcass. Waiting slowly to descend on him.
Marcus jumps a bit when Diego comes up behind him, flinging an arm over his shoulder. "Oye cabron, don't be scared. What's up? Senor Marchinares practically had to yell at you to get you to pay attention last period." Diego's arm is like a hot brand over his shoulder.
"My mom's having her babies right now," Marcus stammers. "I got called to the office halfway through 2nd period. Gregorio told me she was in the hospital, right now. I'm going to be a brother."
"No way! Why aren't you skipping school, then?"
Marcus recites the whole glum explanation in one breath. "Gregorio said that mom said not to skip school, because she doesn't want me underfoot at the hospital, and the babies probably won't be born until after I get out of school anyways, so their is no point in just waiting and doing nothing when I can be at school."
Diego laughs easily. "You're not even learning anything here. Hey, why don't we just skip right now?"
"What, just us two?" Marcus perks up, trying unsuccessfully to remain casual. He notices the new earrings that Diego is wearing, little black studs that twinkle, and the way his dark eyebrows crouch and leap with each phrase. Diego always has this way of animating everything he says, like it's the coolest thing int the world.
"Sure. You're not even learning anything, and I'm bored with school anyways. If we try to get Miguel to come the teachers might catch us. Let's just go right now." Diego whispers, and Marcus jumps at the soft brush of air against his neck.
"Yeah, okay." Marcus slams his locker shut, twirling the dial a few times. "Where are we going?"
"The wall of course," Diego says, grinning. "Where else?"
...
Over the past couple months the hummingbird has been joined by a couple riding a bicycle, an eagle clutching the sun in its claws, a sailboat on the ocean, and a woman with big red lips and red flowers in her black hair that flowed out until it turned to blue lines sparkling with stars.
They topple their bikes near in the cool shadow of the walls and get to work. At first they'd been nervous someone would catch them, and they would only come in the early mornings. The first hummingbird had chipped off, and they always raced home and cleaned up before anyone could discover them.
Then one day Marcus heard Gregorio talking about the mural. Gregorio was policia, and he should have been worried about catching the perpetrators, but Gregorio and his police friends were talking about some of the beautiful street art they'd seen.
"But Gregorio, aren't you supposed to catch the people who are painting the walls?" Marcus had asked later.
"Of course. We're also supposed to catch the street vendors in the plazas. But Acapulco is a big city, Marcus. The policia have more important things to do than track down people that go to so much trouble to make our city beautiful," Gregorio answered. "Things like drug trafficking, and robberies and murders are what I worry about the most. Those are worse things." He shrugged. "If somebody complains, we'll post a lookout. But so far nobody has complained, so we concentrate on the places that need us."
After that conversation, Marcus and his friends had gotten more bold, often going to the wall after school and getting home late and paint stained and exhausted, but content. They soon white-washed the whole wall, and repainted the hummingbird on a proper base coat. Other art projects soon followed, sometimes whitewashed to make way for others, but the hummingbird always remained the same. Sometimes people walking by would say something, offer suggestions, or even ask if they could help.
But today it was just Marcus and Diego. Marcus and the swift boy with cool brown hands and an easy smile. The best friend with bright eyes. The guy Marcus wished would notice him back, and hated himself for wishing it.
Marcus knew what gay was. "Maricon!" He and his friends would shout at each other in the halls of the school, laughing. He was starting to worry that, in his case, it wasn't a joke.
Marcus pulled off his shirt, and tried to ignore it when Diego did the same. They spilled out the spray paints and some brushes from a broken gym bag, together with some little cans of paint, and got to work silently. Diego had out some black spray and was busy drawing out a new piece in broad strokes, a deep golden tan in his other hand. It used to bother Marcus, the silent intensity with which Diego painted, so uncharacteristic at other times. Now he appreciated the chance to concentrate on his own work. Marcus had discovered over the past couple months that he preferred paint brushes to sprays, and now he was hard at work putting the finishing touches on the lady's red flowers and the stars in her hair. When he stepped back from the wall, he noticed what Diego was painting.
A great, stylized cat encircled a woman holding two babies under the sun-and-eagle. Diego was still just outlining the basic design, but already Marcus could imagine the spots rippling across the golden hide, the brilliant green eyes glittering with malice. He didn't like how those eyes peered hungrily at the babies. "What's that, Diego?" Marcus asked, fighting to control his voice.
"Oh, this is Gregorio, um, I mean your dad." Diego said, gesturing to the beast, "I drew him protecting the twins with your mom. And the hawk is you, of course. We're all on the wall." Diego pointed to the bikers. "That's Miguel and Silvia in a few years I bet. They're always whispering to each other and passing notes. I think they'r already going out and they just haven't told us yet. The lady with the stars is Luisa because she loves flowers and when she grows up she's going to be beautiful. I'm the boat, because I want to escape far away."
"It's nice," Miguel said, feeling like he should appreciate the gesture more. "I just don't like my dad pictured as a jaguar."
"I think it's very fitting, personally," said an unfamiliar voice from the mouth of the alley. Marcus and Diego turned, startled. In the light stood an incredibly beautiful woman with lips the color of the dying sun and giant black sunglasses. A wide-brimmed white hat crowned luxurious chocolate colored hair that looked like it should be in a shampoo commercial, and heavy gold jewelry drooped from her wrists, neck, ears, and ankles. She wore a tight leopard print dress with a smart white blazer, and seemed entirely out of place in this dust-and-sun colored neighborhood.
"A father should be a protective influence," She continued. Her hand brushed up the mural. "It's beautiful. So many secrets hidden in its colors." The woman almost sounded hungry. She turned to the boys. "Diego, why don't you introduce me to your friend?"
"Marcus, this is my aunt Regina. Tia, this is my best friend Marcus." Diego's voice sounds wooden. "How did you find me?"
"You know your father keeps close tabs on you," she says. Regina continues to examine the mural. "This is really very beautiful, Diego." She clucks her tongue. "I wish you would apply yourself so fervently to your school work. Anyways, I came to tell you that your father wants you home. Now."
"But-"
"And if you come right away, I won't tell him where I found you," Regina promises. "I was supposed to find you at school."
"Can't you tell him I'm with a friend at the hospital?" Diego asks desperately. His aunt arches one eyebrow above her glasses.
"My mom is having a baby," Marcus butts in, "Two of them, de echo. We were just putting some finishing touches on the wall, and then we were going to the hospital right way." He gestures at the painting of the babies in his mothers arms. "Diego was just keeping me company."
"If Diego comes now, I'm sure I might be able to get him back to the hospital in an hour or two. Diego?" She gestures imperiously, then leaves the entrance, clearly expecting to be followed.
"Nos vemos, Marcus," Diego grumbles, pulling his shirt back over his paint-stained torso. "I'll try to get over their as soon as I can."
Marcus continued to work on the wall for a little bit after that, but he was alone, and the outline of the big cat was bugging him. He really wished that Diego had picked out something different to represent his dad, like a dog, or a police car. Anything else, really.
Marcus packs up and leaves the paints in a shallow depression in the ground, hidden with some old planks and bushes. He bikes home, showers quickly, and checks the time- 11:48. He makes some tacos, hoping to appease Gregorio for skipping school, packs the food into his bag, and heads over to the hospital.
Of course his mother is in expert care; this is the hospital Maria Teresa works at, and she's one of the most well-respected nurses on staff. Still, Marcus worries. And he sees that his step-father does too. Gregorio is sitting in the lobby, trying unsuccessfully to watch TV as a bunch of rambunctious chicos run around, in the process of tearing everything apart. Marcus hands over the tacos, and they munch in relative silence.
The kids leave after a half hour, and a new show comes on. One of the nursing staff comes into the lobby to invite Gregorio back. No, Marcus can't come in, he's too young. Marcus is left alone, except for the old cleaning lady that had been called up to clean after the kids. Slowly she mops up corn flakes and replaces the trash bags in the waste baskets, and then she too is gone.
Marcus kicks the legs of his chair and tries to find something interesting on the TV, but nothing holds his attention. He looks at the books for children, stacks them neatly, finds a Princess coloring book, looks for crayons and finds only yellow, orange, purple, and red, colors a fiery dress, hunts around and finally finds a half broken brown crayon, finishes the princess with skin the color de cafe, turns the page, does another brown princess with purple and pale blue (found when looking for the skin-tone crayon), puts the book away, looks out the window, wanders into the lobby, and finally sits down again to wait.
A woman's voice startles him, and Marcus looks up to see Regina standing in front of him. Her giant sunglasses hid her expression, but Marcus could imagine a hint of pity.
"You know, in the old days twins were considered lucky. They represented the divine duality of all things." She sets herself in the chair next to Marcus, carefully unwinding the turquoise scarf wrapped around her soft curls. "How do you feel about it?"
"I'm doing okay, I guess," Marcus allows. "I think it'll be fun to have some siblings. My friend Miguel has eight sisters and three brothers, and they always have fun together. And Gregorio--that's my mom's husband-- he's really nice. Probably much nicer than my real father." He thinks about the jaguar outline in the alley.
"I'm sure you'll make an excellent big brother," Regina says, smiling. "But you seem troubled."
"Well yeah. I mean, babies are noisy and stuff. Family comes first, my mother always says. If I have to take care of them, I don't think I'll get to spend as much time with my friends." Of course, her own family had abandoned her when he was born. Maria Teresa's sister in California was the only one that still called regularly. And she never, ever mentioned his real dad.
"Diego couldn't come," Regina said gently. "But he wanted me to check up on you. It ended up that his father needed him to stay."
"I thought so," Marcus nodded glumly. Diego seemed afraid of his own father sometimes. At least, he wouldn't ever take any of his friends home with him. Whenever he talked about Gregorio, it was always with a hint of wistfulness.
"Well, Marcus, why don't you tell me all about it?" the old woman put her arm familiarly over Marcus's shoulder, and he found himself spilling everything. Not just about Gregorio and the twins, but about Roberto's death, and how he felt it was his fault; about the jaguar that seemed to follow him everywhere, and the vision of the alligator. Even about the feelings he was scared to admit to himself, for another boy. When he finished he felt drained, like all the darkness he'd kept inside was dredged up and washed away. It scared him, how much he told Regina, but she listened like silk, and he couldn't stop himself.
"Would I know this friend that you like?" Regina probed.
"Probably not," Marcus had answered quickly. "Maybe, me and Diego share allot of friends. Do you know all of his friends?" He managed to keep back only that little piece, that it was her nephew.
"No, but now I know you, Marcus." Regina smiled. "You're a good boy, and you've been wise to confide in me these feelings. They're a horrible burden, I know. But I also believe you will do the right thing and drive them away from you. You can be strong."
Marcus felt tender, like his heart wanted to leap and sink at once, and any moment it would rip itself in half. "I can?"
"I know what you told me is very serious and private. I won't tell anyone, and I suggest that you do not as well." Regina shook her head sadly. "Many people will not be very understanding of you, I know. But I'm glad you trusted me."
Afterwards, the Regina hugged him and smiled in satisfaction, tucking away the disinfectant wipes she'd used to clean Marcus's tears. "I think you know what is best, in your heart," she said. "Your mother raised you right. I know you can be strong against temptation. Como dios quiere."
She checked her watch and stood up suddenly. "Dios mio! I'm going to be late," she said as she rustled Marcus's hair. "I own a little spa, and it's being inspected today." She handed Marcus a card. "Tell your mother to give me a call, and I'll give her a free week of sessions. Childbirth can be rough on a woman's body. You are welcome to come too, if you like."
She hurried to the elevator, turning slightly as she tied her hair back up into into the scarf. "I'm glad Diego has friends like you, Marcus."
Marcus was left alone in the waiting room for another lonely hour until the twins, Tochtli and Teresa Maria, were born. It was a long labor, but Marcus's mother was fine, the twins were fine, everyone was fine. Over the next few weeks Marcus only had a few spare minutes in between diapers, helping his mom around the house, and homework to think about what Regina had said. Still, it circled back in his mind, hovering like a buzzard over a carcass. Waiting slowly to descend on him.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Quetzalhuitzilin
Early morning, before the sun is up, Marcus wakes to the tapping of rocks on his window. He opens the shutters to find Diego and Luisa outside. It's the first time he's seen either in weeks. Nobody has been talking since Roberto's death.
They're wearing bandannas to hide their faces and each carries a mochila filled with spray paint. "Come on Marcus," Diego whispers.
"What are we doing?" Marcus asks.
"We're going to paint una muralla for Roberto. It's Diego's idea," Luisa whispers. "Keep your voice down, and hurry up.
They gather Miguel and Silvia and ride their bikes in the dark, silent streets. A lone dog barks halfheartedly, but they speed by, and it subsides. High up the sun slides golden light down the skyscrapers, slowly undressing the world's nightgown with his gentle touch.
The canal water is lower today, and swift, to swift to swim, if any of them could have ever thought of swimming their again. The water churns with dark reflections and underground secrets. A small shrine has been erected by Roberto's parents, and Marcus notes what his friends have brought- a favorite candy bar, a manga, flowers, glasses. The toy alligator from Marcus is partially submerged under the other gifts.
Next to the canal in the alleyway where they always left their bikes. They pull out the spray paint and shake them up. Diego pulls out stencils, familiar with the rattle of the can and the quiet activity, and Silvia takes to the work avidly. Miguel and Luisa are more timid, working in broad strokes, avoiding the detail work of the others.
Marcus picks up the bottles, and a strange feeling wells up in him. This is right. This will make things better. He sets to work with the others, completely absorbed in the task of painting brilliant green feathers, deep indigo and purple blushes in a swirling deep blue background, angry red and orange and yellow streaks like tears spattering the foreground.
After a couple hours work, they step back from the little mural. "It's nothing like El Robot de Madera could do," Diego says critically, "But I think we did a pretty good job, capos."
"I think it's brilliant," Luisa declares.
Marcus critically examines their work. He's always been a good artist, but this is the first time he's done something like this. "It's a good start," He concedes, gesturing to the rest of the wall, "but I think it would look a little lonely if we didn't do some more."
Miguel nods. "Definitely."
They leave again as silently as they came, each peeling with waved goodbyes to their own homes. It is hours since they started, and the streets are already crowded with grandmothers seeking produce and grandfathers smoking on the street corners. Cars clog the roads.
Behind them, hunkered in the shadows near a canal-side shrine, a graffiti hummingbird shimmers like a jewel with a thousand colors on the wall, waiting the warm embrace of the sun.
They're wearing bandannas to hide their faces and each carries a mochila filled with spray paint. "Come on Marcus," Diego whispers.
"What are we doing?" Marcus asks.
"We're going to paint una muralla for Roberto. It's Diego's idea," Luisa whispers. "Keep your voice down, and hurry up.
They gather Miguel and Silvia and ride their bikes in the dark, silent streets. A lone dog barks halfheartedly, but they speed by, and it subsides. High up the sun slides golden light down the skyscrapers, slowly undressing the world's nightgown with his gentle touch.
The canal water is lower today, and swift, to swift to swim, if any of them could have ever thought of swimming their again. The water churns with dark reflections and underground secrets. A small shrine has been erected by Roberto's parents, and Marcus notes what his friends have brought- a favorite candy bar, a manga, flowers, glasses. The toy alligator from Marcus is partially submerged under the other gifts.
Next to the canal in the alleyway where they always left their bikes. They pull out the spray paint and shake them up. Diego pulls out stencils, familiar with the rattle of the can and the quiet activity, and Silvia takes to the work avidly. Miguel and Luisa are more timid, working in broad strokes, avoiding the detail work of the others.
Marcus picks up the bottles, and a strange feeling wells up in him. This is right. This will make things better. He sets to work with the others, completely absorbed in the task of painting brilliant green feathers, deep indigo and purple blushes in a swirling deep blue background, angry red and orange and yellow streaks like tears spattering the foreground.
After a couple hours work, they step back from the little mural. "It's nothing like El Robot de Madera could do," Diego says critically, "But I think we did a pretty good job, capos."
"I think it's brilliant," Luisa declares.
Marcus critically examines their work. He's always been a good artist, but this is the first time he's done something like this. "It's a good start," He concedes, gesturing to the rest of the wall, "but I think it would look a little lonely if we didn't do some more."
Miguel nods. "Definitely."
They leave again as silently as they came, each peeling with waved goodbyes to their own homes. It is hours since they started, and the streets are already crowded with grandmothers seeking produce and grandfathers smoking on the street corners. Cars clog the roads.
Behind them, hunkered in the shadows near a canal-side shrine, a graffiti hummingbird shimmers like a jewel with a thousand colors on the wall, waiting the warm embrace of the sun.
Saturday, September 2, 2000
Day of the Deer 9 Rain
Marcus makes new friends in Acapulco: sly Miguel, who constantly plays pranks on the girls in their class; shy little Roberto, with huge glasses and a thirst for Japanese manga; Silvia, who plays soccer almost as well as Olivia did; Luisa, who he can tell anything too; and Diego.
He knows long summer days in the barrio, and swimming with his friends at the canal. He plays video games at Roberto's house, pours over textbooks at Silvia's. The day he turns thirteen, he walks out on his aunts' back yard patio, and sees a jaguar out in the field, turquoise earrings flashing. Two days later his mother meets Gregorio Florez, a police officer who always works at night.
On this day, Marcus is avoiding the house. Gregorio is there, the man his mother says he should now call father. His mother and Gregorio have been married two months, but it is still strange to have another person in the house, invading his space; to see a strange man kissing his mother on the mouth, touching her hips. Gregorio was a good man, patient with tools and machines and children. But Marcus wasn't a kid anymore, and it was weird.
Marcus races his bike up the Costa del Sol with Diego, turning left towards the Plaza. It's been two years since they moved to Acapulco, and the jaguar has appeared twice more. Once, the jaguar rested on top of a park jungle gym. The second time was late at night, at a bus station. Marcus was getting on, and he looked out the window, and the jaguar was over the body of a homeless man, chops bloody, gorging on his stomach. After a particularly horrendous rip, the cat pulled out his heart. Nobody else saw it, and Marcus didn't say anything, but when he got home his clothes were drenched in sweat, and he couldn't sleep. He lay in bed all night, staring at the ceiling, and almost, almost told his mother.
That was a couple months ago. Now he careens down the road, racing with Miguel, Diego, Roberto, Silvia, and Luisa. He's thought when they moved it would be hard, but he made friends easily. It's around three, and they are racing the last days of summer, before schools starts.
They've been told at least a dozen times to avoid the reservoir, but it's hot, and the long canoes off to one side beckon. They clamber into the boats and hoist them off the dirt and into the water, leaping in and paddling. They laugh and splash each other, swimming to each other's boat and attempting to turn them over.
This is the time Marcus looks over at Diego, his curly hair wet, eyes bright and laughing, and a feeling hits so strong that he sinks to the bottom when the others overturn their canoe. It's what has him shakily swimming to shore, where they've left towels and bags, and watch from a distance. He waves and tells the others he's alright, just tired.
On shore he notices something in the water that shouldn't be there; a huge, mostly submerged form, like a log, except their aren't any trees within a hundred feet of the reservoir. His heart jumps and he leaps to his feet.
"You guys! Get out of the water!"
Miguel laughs and tips Diego into the reservoir with a splash. The two girls shriek as Diego swims towards their canoe and starts rocking it back and forth. They don't listen to him, and they don't notice the thing moving steadily towards them.
"You guys! There's a crocodile in the water!"
They finally notice when Miguel throws his paddle at the girls' canoe.The wood whaps! against the surface of the water before being snatched and cracked in two by a long toothy jaws. Luisa screams, and Diego scrambles out of the water into the boat with Miguel and Roberto.
The girls still have their paddles and skim to shore, running over to where Marcus stands once they hit the beach. Marcus shouts and gestures at the guys to come his direction, but they have only one paddle, and he can tell they won't be able to make it. Roberto is panicking, and in a moment they're all rocked overboard.
Marcus is screaming, the girls are screaming, they can see thrashing in the water and a huge scaly tail that lashes up and down. Roberto is swimming to shore, Diego close behind, but Miguel is nowhere in sight.
The jaguar is sitting there, right next to Marcus, but no one else can see him. <I can save your friend's life> he observes. <Both of their lives>
A moment later Diego disappears from the surface, dragged down in a swirl of water.
"Do it!" Marcus screams, "Save them!"
<In the beginning of the first world, when Cipactli ruled beneath the water, we fished it from the deep by using my foot as bate. From its body we scrolled the land.> The jaguar gestured with his missing paw. <What would you sacrifice?>
Time stands still, blacks out like the rusty edges of a mirror. Marcus feels very calm, like the eye of Hurucán. He thoughts skitter on glass. "If you were not here, the crocodile would not be here."
The jaguar laughs, a sound like falling rocks in his mind, its mouth gaping open. <Perhaps. You must learn. Who would you sacrifice?>
"Of my friends?" Marcus choked out. "I- I can't."
Roberto finally reaches the shore, gasping out breath, crying.
<Sacrifice is a great honor, cub.> The creature sounded irritated. <Death is but an instrument of the Gods, Life a transient state. Life and death are teotl, equal and opposite. Neither is greater than the other.>
"Fine, then." Marcus ran out into the water, diving in when it was deep enough. If sacrifice is a great honor, jaguar father, he thought, take me instead.
He heard a roar from the shore, and abruptly he was sitting up in bed, sheets slick and drops flying from his hair into chilly night. <You will have to choose, and soon, cub> he heard the jaguar's growl in his mind. He ran to the phone and called them, Miguel, Diego. They remember swimming the day before, but no crocodile. Miguel bumped his head on the side of the boat, and Diego scraped himself dragging him to shore, but that was it.
5 days later, Roberto drowned in the canal.
He knows long summer days in the barrio, and swimming with his friends at the canal. He plays video games at Roberto's house, pours over textbooks at Silvia's. The day he turns thirteen, he walks out on his aunts' back yard patio, and sees a jaguar out in the field, turquoise earrings flashing. Two days later his mother meets Gregorio Florez, a police officer who always works at night.
On this day, Marcus is avoiding the house. Gregorio is there, the man his mother says he should now call father. His mother and Gregorio have been married two months, but it is still strange to have another person in the house, invading his space; to see a strange man kissing his mother on the mouth, touching her hips. Gregorio was a good man, patient with tools and machines and children. But Marcus wasn't a kid anymore, and it was weird.
Marcus races his bike up the Costa del Sol with Diego, turning left towards the Plaza. It's been two years since they moved to Acapulco, and the jaguar has appeared twice more. Once, the jaguar rested on top of a park jungle gym. The second time was late at night, at a bus station. Marcus was getting on, and he looked out the window, and the jaguar was over the body of a homeless man, chops bloody, gorging on his stomach. After a particularly horrendous rip, the cat pulled out his heart. Nobody else saw it, and Marcus didn't say anything, but when he got home his clothes were drenched in sweat, and he couldn't sleep. He lay in bed all night, staring at the ceiling, and almost, almost told his mother.
That was a couple months ago. Now he careens down the road, racing with Miguel, Diego, Roberto, Silvia, and Luisa. He's thought when they moved it would be hard, but he made friends easily. It's around three, and they are racing the last days of summer, before schools starts.
They've been told at least a dozen times to avoid the reservoir, but it's hot, and the long canoes off to one side beckon. They clamber into the boats and hoist them off the dirt and into the water, leaping in and paddling. They laugh and splash each other, swimming to each other's boat and attempting to turn them over.
This is the time Marcus looks over at Diego, his curly hair wet, eyes bright and laughing, and a feeling hits so strong that he sinks to the bottom when the others overturn their canoe. It's what has him shakily swimming to shore, where they've left towels and bags, and watch from a distance. He waves and tells the others he's alright, just tired.
On shore he notices something in the water that shouldn't be there; a huge, mostly submerged form, like a log, except their aren't any trees within a hundred feet of the reservoir. His heart jumps and he leaps to his feet.
"You guys! Get out of the water!"
Miguel laughs and tips Diego into the reservoir with a splash. The two girls shriek as Diego swims towards their canoe and starts rocking it back and forth. They don't listen to him, and they don't notice the thing moving steadily towards them.
"You guys! There's a crocodile in the water!"
They finally notice when Miguel throws his paddle at the girls' canoe.The wood whaps! against the surface of the water before being snatched and cracked in two by a long toothy jaws. Luisa screams, and Diego scrambles out of the water into the boat with Miguel and Roberto.
The girls still have their paddles and skim to shore, running over to where Marcus stands once they hit the beach. Marcus shouts and gestures at the guys to come his direction, but they have only one paddle, and he can tell they won't be able to make it. Roberto is panicking, and in a moment they're all rocked overboard.
Marcus is screaming, the girls are screaming, they can see thrashing in the water and a huge scaly tail that lashes up and down. Roberto is swimming to shore, Diego close behind, but Miguel is nowhere in sight.
The jaguar is sitting there, right next to Marcus, but no one else can see him. <I can save your friend's life> he observes. <Both of their lives>
A moment later Diego disappears from the surface, dragged down in a swirl of water.
"Do it!" Marcus screams, "Save them!"
<In the beginning of the first world, when Cipactli ruled beneath the water, we fished it from the deep by using my foot as bate. From its body we scrolled the land.> The jaguar gestured with his missing paw. <What would you sacrifice?>
Time stands still, blacks out like the rusty edges of a mirror. Marcus feels very calm, like the eye of Hurucán. He thoughts skitter on glass. "If you were not here, the crocodile would not be here."
The jaguar laughs, a sound like falling rocks in his mind, its mouth gaping open. <Perhaps. You must learn. Who would you sacrifice?>
"Of my friends?" Marcus choked out. "I- I can't."
Roberto finally reaches the shore, gasping out breath, crying.
<Sacrifice is a great honor, cub.> The creature sounded irritated. <Death is but an instrument of the Gods, Life a transient state. Life and death are teotl, equal and opposite. Neither is greater than the other.>
"Fine, then." Marcus ran out into the water, diving in when it was deep enough. If sacrifice is a great honor, jaguar father, he thought, take me instead.
He heard a roar from the shore, and abruptly he was sitting up in bed, sheets slick and drops flying from his hair into chilly night. <You will have to choose, and soon, cub> he heard the jaguar's growl in his mind. He ran to the phone and called them, Miguel, Diego. They remember swimming the day before, but no crocodile. Miguel bumped his head on the side of the boat, and Diego scraped himself dragging him to shore, but that was it.
5 days later, Roberto drowned in the canal.
Thursday, July 2, 1998
Day of the Jaguar 9 Death
The first time Marcus sees his father, the boys are playing soccer. The striped ball flies through the air, pummeled by feet, knees, heads, rarely touching the ground. The sun presides overhead, his hot breath on their shoulders.
"Pass it to me! Aqui voy!" Marcus scuffles on the left side of the field, battling for control of the ball. He gets shoved to one side by Rico, who's grown five inches in the past year, but he's back up and running before the bigger boy has gone more than a few steps. Shoving doesn't matter; boundaries don't matter; rules don't matter out here where they play with a volleyball on a basketball court, where the only referees are the sun and the scudding clouds and the cottonwood trees that shiver with the heat.
Marcus skids under Rico and kicks the ball to Fede, who runs it up the court. Look around Fede, Marcus shouts, but his best friend loses the ball to Carly. Now Pancho and Fede double-team her, closing in on either side and taking posession. Little Olivia shoots between them, red hair torching through the air as she steals the ball between their feet. Marcus barely manages to intercept it when she passes the ball to Rico, and pelts towards the other end of the court, goal in sight. Only Andres the new goalie stands in his way. Andres runs up to stop Marcus, bowling him over and advancing with the ball. Pancho and Fede pound up the field and collide with Andres, Fede back-heel kicks it to Marcus, the ball flies high in the air
Marcus lunges up and knees the ball towards the goal, his upraised elbow grazing the it as it flies overhead
The ball curves up and down, sliding softly into the basketball hoop before rolling neatly into the little hockey net they're using for the goal, set up directly below.
Marcus lunges up and knees the ball towards the goal, his upraised elbow grazing the it as it flies overhead
The ball curves up and down, sliding softly into the basketball hoop before rolling neatly into the little hockey net they're using for the goal, set up directly below.
"Dude, that was tan cholo!" Rico says, grinning.
"He uses his hand! It doesn't count!" Andres shouts from one side.
Soon they were running the field again. Nobody kept score... or rather, everybody kept score, but nobody knew for sure what the score was. Marcus thought it was something like 14-11, but Fede said they were ahead by 7, and Rico said his team was winning, he'd scored 4 goals himself and he knew they had like, 20, and nobody cared enough to stop the game to find out. They just wanted to keep playing. It's like this every day of the summer, Rico, Fede, Marcus, and whoever else shows up, playing for hours on end. This is their world. Today two new kids showed up, but they don't remember anyone's names. Andres isn't too bad, and Olivia is amazing for a girl, but nobody else can keep up with them.
Slowly the sun burns its way across the desert sky, three, four, five hours. Finally, as it nears the western horizon, Marcus hears the voice of his mother from the side of the field where the cottonwoods send their puffy messengers on the wind, the dappled shadow hiding her from the bright sunlight of the field.
"Marcus! It's time to go!"
Marcus runs towards his mother, waving goodbye to the others. He slows down and stops though, when he gets under the trees. Hidden high up on one of the branches is an enormous, heavy spotted cat. It gazes at him, banded tail twitching back and forth. "Mami!"
"What is it, Marcus?"
"Un tigre! Up in that tree right there." Marcus points up into the tree, but the spotted cat is gone.
"Ay, mijo, there is no tigers in the Mexico."
"But I saw it! It had spots all over it, and it was missing a paw! and-"
Suddenly his mother looks frightened. "We have to leave, right now, mijo," she says, dragging him to the car.
That day she calls in and quits her job, and they move from Oaxaca to Acapulco, where his mother has a sister. He didn't get to say goodbye to Federico, or Rico, or anyone. From then on, whenever the jaguar shows up again, he doesn't mention it.
That day she calls in and quits her job, and they move from Oaxaca to Acapulco, where his mother has a sister. He didn't get to say goodbye to Federico, or Rico, or anyone. From then on, whenever the jaguar shows up again, he doesn't mention it.
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