Men walk out of the bohios wearing light colors. Some are bare-chested, with no visible symbols of their crew. Where are their allegiances stating they are property of the Ashé? Where are the medallions? They must be branded in a place where I can’t see.
An older woman sees Miguel and runs to him. He allows himself to be held. Is that Zentrica?
“We missed you,” the woman says. I search for a sign telling me this is my sister. I don’t see any resemblance. “She’s been so worried.”
Miguel shakes his head. “I can’t see her. Not yet.” He presses down on his hair.
It’s been ten years since I last saw my sister. How old would Zentrica be now? I’ve tried many times to calculate the exact timeline of when she left. That must make her twenty-five or twenty-six. This woman is much older. No. This is not Zentrica.
Everyone seems too in the open. There are probably a multitude of weapons hidden in this community. An ominous vibe creeps from underneath their smiling expressions. They are too confident to not be completely armed.
Miguel walks away with the older woman while I’m left to follow my escort. She leads me past a communal eating area. The families here don’t seem to be preparing for an uprising. Everyone is way too chill. Perhaps their war rooms are located elsewhere. Another thing I notice, there’s no difference between the bohios. One thatch house is identical to the other. Where is the sense of hierarchy? I case the area and search for escape routes.
Eventually the Ashé with the blue dress stops in front of a bohio. “We will come get you.”
“Where’s your leader?” I ask. “I want to see her now.”
The girl displays an uneasy grin. “You’ll meet her soon enough.” She motions for me to enter. I hesitate by the door. Is this girl Zentrica’s second-in-command? I can’t work out the order of this crew. I insist on seeing Zentrica. She responds by opening the door. She waits for me to enter. I finally do.
“Chief Rocka.”
Smiley is the first person I see. Next to her sits Shi. She quickly stands. As for Truck, I can hear her snores. A nudge from Shi wakes Truck. I smile foolishly. I’m happy to see a familiar face, especially now when I’m at my lowest. One look from Truck and I’m reminded of their betrayal. No. They are no longer my sisters.
“Word up, Chief Rocka.” Truck looms large before me. The anger hasn’t dissipated. In fact, the rage has increased.
There are several makeshift beds in various corners. Wooden boxes made into chairs and a table. I grab one and mark it as my own by dumping the contents onto the floor. I will sit where a leader should sit. I start to take off my jacket.
“I guess you didn’t get Nena, huh?” I say this knowing full well my words will hurt.
Before I can protect myself, Truck jumps me. I’m barely able to hold back the punches, the concentration of them landing on my stomach. I manage to punch her on the side of the face. The blow stops the onslaught for only a second. It’s enough for me to roll away. She rushes at me again.
Shi and Smiley pull us apart. My lip is split and the pounding in my ear is now replaced with a pain in my gut. Anger keeps me in the fight. Truck will not win, because this battle is bigger than both of us.
“This is your fault,” she screams. “The Ashé Ryders were on us before we could even hit the Gurl Gunnas.”
“I’m not that powerful,” I say. “I couldn’t foresee this.”
“Oh yeah?” Truck says. “Then why is Zentrica acting as if she knows you?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just got here.”
“You are lying. They’ve been waiting for you to come home. Those were the words she used. ‘Come home.’ You know what’s going on. You knew all along and you’re still holding back. We’re going to get iced in here, and you’re giving us nothing to pull us out of this hole. You’re providing them with the knife.”
“I don’t know Zentrica or anyone from the Ashé Ryders,” I say. What does Truck want from me? I’m in the dark as much as they are.
“We took an oath,” Truck says, her voice cracking. “LMC meant for life. Secrets among sisters equals death. Who is Zentrica to you?”
She wants me to confess. How can I when I don’t believe it? There is no way this can possibly be true.
“Miguel says Zentrica is my sister,” I say. “He’s an addict. He obviously fabricated this whole story to get a rise from me. You traveled with him. He’s not the type of person to be trusted.”
I can’t face the truth, not when I am still grappling to understand it myself. It doesn’t matter. I can explain away every single thing that has happened since we last saw each other. It won’t make a difference. Smiley holds her head. The hate on Shi and Truck’s faces can ignite a room.
“You don’t get it, do you? Ever since we left on this journey, you’ve been swearing up and down we were in this together,” Truck says. “If we were, you wouldn’t have brought us here to die.”
“Listen. The mission holds. We gather information and report to Déesse. Zentrica is not my sister. It’s a lie,” I say. “We stick to the plan. We need only a day. Together we can scour the area, really scope Los Bohios.”
Truck laughs. “What are you talking about? She’s your sister and the leader of the Ashé Ryders. You honestly think we’re going to leave here in one piece? You deserve whatever fate is bestowed on you. I only hope it’s a painful one.”
“I haven’t changed,” I say. “I’m the same person from two days ago. The same sister who asked you to help me create the LMC. The one who recruited you to join me.”
Our mission can work. Whoever Zentrica is, she is not my blood.
“You also chose Nena,” says Smiley. “Look what that got her.”
We should be exchanging notes on what we’ve seen and heard. Devising our next moves. I want to know how they ended up here. To tell them how Miguel tricked me, how it was a ruse to get me here. Instead, Truck and the others glare at me. I’m the enemy now.
“This isn’t my fault,” I say. “The sooner you guys get that through your heads, the quicker we can strategize.”
“We are no longer listening to you,” Truck says.
They turn their backs on me. The second time is no less painful. When they realize the mistake they’ve made by shutting me out, it will be too late. I will continue to do this on my own. The Towers are real. I must hold on to the dream. What else do I have?
“Excuse me.” A young girl no more than nine years old waits by the entrance. “Zentrica will see you now.”
This is it.
No one says a word while I gather my things. I pull on my jacket and adjust my cuffs. I leave scared out of my mind.
CHAPTER 18
ARMY OF ME
My legs feel heavy. Every fiber of my being tells me to run. I bury the fear. Exchange it for hate. My sister died a long time ago. Zentrica is not family. She is a stranger. Just an obstacle I must overcome to get back to Mega.
Instead of taking me to a bohio befitting a leader of a notorious crew, the Ashé walks me in the direction of a structure that is smaller than the rest. My mind overanalyzes the significance of this. Is this a way of faking me out into thinking the leader is humble? I’m aware of the tricks.
The girl pauses before the entrance. “One second,” she says.
I hear murmurings. Laughter. I recognize Miguel’s voice. He’s in there probably joking about how easy it was to dupe me. How I pose no threat to the Ashés. Deals are being made. I need to be in there before I’m counted out of the game.
“I missed you more than you’ll ever know.” A woman’s voice. “More than anything.”
Is that the voice of my so-called sister Zentrica? I can no longer wait. I push open the wooden door and step in.
I hold my breath.
Miguel stands before this woman. They are both so engrossed with each other. The woman utters such personal things, I feel embarrassed at having to witness such a display. I stare at her. This
is not the girl in my dreams. Not completely. The curly hair is a lot lighter, longer. Her face is much thinner. It is not until I notice the eyes and the shape of her lips that I can see the resemblance. Those features are identical to mine. The only signs that connect me to her.
There are others in the room. The older lady who earlier embraced Miguel. The girl in the blue dress and a couple of the others who found me. They will be witnesses to this farce of a reunion.
Zentrica cups Miguel’s trembling hands.
“I didn’t realize how hard it would be,” Miguel says. “How much of a hold the sueños had. It was as if I had never stopped taking them. I’m sorry.”
I can’t help myself. I snort at this confession.
They both turn.
“Nalah,” Zentrica says. She says my name as if she’s trying it on for size. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
Words will betray me, so I keep quiet.
“Do you remember me?” Zentrica says in a gentle tone that makes me want to punch her face.
“She was a tiny one. So small.” Zentrica now gestures to her soldiers. “She would follow me everywhere, pulling on my shirt. I couldn’t even go to the bathroom. I used to call her my sombra. Now look at her. I can’t believe it.”
They laugh at her stupid lie of a story. It never happened. Whoever that girl was back then, the one who followed her around is dead. Zentrica won’t get the satisfaction of having me acknowledge an anecdote she so casually shares with her crew. This woman before me means nothing.
“My sister was never a Zentrica,” I say. “Nor was she ever the leader of the Ashé Ryders.”
Her smile melts away. “We’ll catch up soon enough. You’re tired. Go rest,” she tells Miguel. “You made this happen. I can never repay you enough.”
As Miguel walks past me, I notice the tears. He told me he wanted to be clean. This was the reason he kept storing the sueños I handed to him. The sueños took him down as soon as he entered Mega City. Why would Zentrica send Miguel if there was a risk? It doesn’t make sense. Then again, what does?
The others leave. I’m alone with her, with this stranger. I don’t know where to put my hands, so I keep them in my pockets. The azabache is still in my pocket. The first of many lies Miguel set in motion.
“Sit. You must be hungry.” Zentrica points to a wooden table with two plates of food. “Sorry there’s no meat. Everything you see on the plate will give you energy.”
I resist the invite, although my stomach growls.
“There’s no need to be afraid.” She sits down to eat. There is a rosy tinge to her full lips. I can’t get over this. She acts so casual. This moment is unreal.
Zentrica moves the chair in front of her with her foot, urging me again to sit down.
“We are trying to figure each other out,” she says. “You’re more than welcome to stick with your fears and starve.”
I can’t deny my hunger. I grab the chair and sit across from her. I don’t realize how famished I am until I start plowing into the food as if there’s no tomorrow. There might not be.
“We grow everything here,” Zentrica says. “Nothing is processed.”
She talks as if she is doing a presentation. Selling me on this place. This is the big, bad, scary leader of the Ashé Ryders? She sings the praises of her organic garden as if I would give two sueños about it. I’ve seen toilers try to grow stuff back home. The soil is crap and doesn’t take. It doesn’t work in our concrete home.
“Who cares?” I say as I eat the last of the vegetables.
“Many care. If you can grow your own food, you don’t need to depend on anyone.”
What in Mega hell does she mean? She’s talking gardening? I push my plate away.
“Do you remember me?” Zentrica asks. “You must remember Yamaris. Yamaris was my given name. Mami and Papi said the name meant ‘wished-for child.’ I heard your friends call you Chief Rocka. Now, that’s a great name. Nalah also has an important meaning. It means ‘beloved.’ ”
She wants me to be sick. This is no family reunion. She’s better off trading hugs with her addicted ANT. Get him to kiss her hands, not me. I’m not going to break down in tears and wish to rekindle a long-lost family relationship.
“What do you want? A pretty picture of our childhood together?” I ask. “The only thing I remember is hitting bodies until they stopped hitting me.”
She continues to eat and doesn’t flinch from my tone. She acts as if we’re two friends having a misunderstanding. This whole wearing long dresses and planting seeds is a ruse. We are both vicious fighters.
“Yamaris seems a lifetime ago. I had to change my name. I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t want her to find me,” she says. “Those freckles aren’t real. Are they?”
“Yeah, well, you look like a rat. What are you planning to do to us?”
There is a long pause. The silence in the bohio is punctuated by people talking outside.
“Nalah.”
“Don’t call me that. You have no right to my name. You don’t know me. You and me, we’re strangers.”
She sighs. “Chief Rocka, then.” She places her fork down. “Don’t underestimate me. I will defend my family. Bloodline or no bloodline.”
A family I don’t belong to.
“Let’s do this. I’m ready right now.”
She shakes her head. A slight smile. Anger rises.
“There’s no battle. No one is going to fight here. We made this place because everyone needs to get along. If one of us fails to carry their load it affects everyone else. We are on equal standing. No one is the leader here, not even me.”
That is a lie. There’s no doubt she calls the shots.
“If you’re not the leader, then what are you selling? A better life? A new beginning? If there are no battles, then how do you recruit for your army? There are guards here, albeit weak-ass nobodies. You’re protecting your crew.”
“We are protecting ourselves from your so-called leader. Déesse. She’s holding on to the Towers for dear life. She can’t afford to share her wealth. My way of living, the Ashé way of living, will end Déesse. There are too many mouths to feed. You think the Towers will protect you. You’re wrong. The toilers grow more desperate every day, and they’re going to need more than food pellets and sueños to survive.
“Those battles are eating away at the masses,” she continues. “You don’t see it because you’re convinced two fists can bring you hope. The rest of the people, they are the ones waging a true war. A war to end inequality and bring about a just world, where young girls are no longer forced to risk their lives to survive.”
There is no such thing as an equal society. She wants Déesse to topple. That would mean the end of my way of living. It would mean the end of everything I’ve fought for.
“The Towers should be for only the people who deserve it,” I say. “Don’t be jealous because I’m on the list.”
She shakes her head. “How unfortunate.”
How dare she judge me?
“I remember you,” I say. “You were there one second and gone the next. You haven’t asked me about Mami since I stepped into this room. Typical. A person who professes unity has no time for their own blood. So what if you created a type of utopia here? One forceful crew will tear it down.”
I grab my plate and chuck it against the wall. This is what I think about her way of living. Where was she when I was in the training camp learning how to take a punch? Creating this dumb-ass world where everyone shares their meals. Is she kidding me? Has it been so long that she doesn’t realize how tough life is? There are no options. Work or battle and claim a space you can call home. It is the only way.
“I was there. You might not remember this. I saw what they did to Mami,” she says. “At first they told us it would help with her back pain. We gave her sueños, and it did alleviate her suffering for a while. It didn’t take long for Mami to develop a tolerance. She needed more. She soon became addicted.”
“She wasn’t an addict. Why are you lying? You weren’t there. It was an accident.”
I remember Mami’s blue lips. Her painful death. Then Déesse taking me to the training camp. Zentrica was never there.
“Your leader did this to our family,” she says. “Food pellets. Sueños. Tiny morsels doled out to the toilers to keep them in check.”
“If that’s true, then why didn’t you stop Déesse?”
“I was old enough to see what was happening. Brave enough to speak out. Déesse doesn’t welcome talkers.”
“I don’t believe you. This is a story to add to your mythology,” I say. I’m yelling now. “At the end of this tale you end up a winner, don’t you? These greens were cooked by a person. I see your fine hands. Those aren’t hands made to work in the dirt. There are no bruises or scratches on you. No, others are doing the deed for you while you preach.”
She looks down on her plate. “I can’t change what happened. Whatever version I tell you, you’re not ready to accept. Maybe you will later, maybe years from now,” she says. “I’m not asking for forgiveness. What I am asking is for you to open your eyes and really see what’s going on. Fighting won’t get you anywhere. It’s not working. No one—and I mean no one—wins.”
She kneels down to pick up the mess I made. Unlike me, Zentrica is out of shape. Flabby arms. No muscle. Too much salad. She’s been living a content, lazy life.
“You can stay here for as long as you want,” she says. “See what we are doing before you jump to conclusions.”
Anger courses through my veins as I watch her. Here she is trying to school me. She is blind to the real world. The Towers may not be her reality, but it’s mine. I stand over her.
“Why did you send Miguel to Mega City to look for me?” I ask. “Why now? Clearly you were fine with me throwing down all those years. Why the hell now?”
She looks up. “It’s a long story and you are not ready. We can continue this conversation tomorrow.”
Dealing in Dreams Page 15
