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.

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.

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.