“Thanks for waiting for me.”
He leaned against the wall and slowed his breathing. Lupe just watched him as his heart slowed, waiting, his vision returning to normal.
“You okay?”
“I am now.”
She crossed her arms over her chest in a gesture he was realizing was a common one for her. “You gonna tell me what that was all about?” She pointed back toward the city. “Who was that sleazy guy back there and why the hell were we running from him?”
“Flaco is someone from my life before. Not a good part of my life. I wasn’t really running from him.”
“Really? ’Cause it sure looked like it.”
“No.” He looked out over the ocean. “I guess I was running from my past.” He stood up and looked Lupe in the eyes. “I’m sorry I ran, but I’d rather not talk about this anymore.”
Lupe stared at him for a moment. “Fine. Consider it dropped. For now. So I was thinking about what she said about calling him. And something you said to Izzy about talking to the mothers…” Her voice lost its energy on Izzy’s name.
Javier kept forgetting that Izzy was gone … for both of them.
“It sounded like the mothers, that night when they called El Cu—him, when they got together and held hands it was like a ritual, almost like a religious one, and it was at a cangrejos birthday party, right?”
Javier nodded. Something was clearing as she talked, like they were heading up a mountain and were gradually hiking above the clouds.
“So Saturday, the night of your birthday, is Carlos’s big party. What if we got them together again? What if we recreate the ritual five years to the day after he was called, to the minute.”
“Five cangrejos, five years.”
She nodded excitedly. “Five madres.”
Javier stared at her. “Un momento. Are you saying you believe in El Cuco now? In monsters?”
“Yeah, why?”
He just grinned at her.
“Don’t make me hurt you, Javier.”
July 9, 9:42 A.M.
Lupe
LUPE WAS TALKING faster and faster, her mind like a hamster on a wheel. “If we get the mothers together at the block party and make it a formal ritual, I think they might be able to reverse the curse, or whatever it is.” She was shocked to hear how sure her voice sounded considering she didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. “Remember what Doña Belasco said about the energy they created together? If they brought this on, maybe they can reverse it.” The phone in Lupe’s pocket buzzed; what she saw on the screen made her throat tighten.
your going to pay gringa
Lupe typed can I write u a check? then clicked off the phone and put it in her pocket with a shaking hand. She’d deal with who was sending the texts and why later.
Javier finally broke his silence. “But what about Vico’s mother? She died a few years ago, que en paz descanse.”
“Well, Doña Belasco was there and she’s of the same bloodline. As for El Cuco”—she still couldn’t believe she was seriously talking about a monster—“I think I know why he comes before you turn eighteen—I mean, before your friends turned eighteen.”
“Why?”
“Professor loco talked about El Cuco as something children are threatened with. When a guy turns eighteen he becomes a man. Voting, the military, legal drinking age.” Lupe was talking still faster. “I reread that blowhard’s article about El Cuco; the legend is always connected to kids, never adults.”
Javier nodded slowly.
As they passed by Plaza Colón, a scent reached for Lupe through the stone balustrades that surrounded the small park. She stopped talking as her stomach rumbled. When was the last time she’d eaten? “What’s that incredible smell?”
Javier smiled. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had chicharrónes before?”
Lupe shook her head, afraid this was yet another PR test she would fail.
“Ah, you’re in for a treat. My town is famous for chicharrón, but we’ll have to settle for the San Juan version.” He led her up to a van that was open on one side where a woman was serving up steaming plates of food. Javier ordered, paid, and held the heaping plate out in front of Lupe.
The scent really was intoxicating. She was not a picky eater by nature, but she had to ask. “What’s in it?”
“Please, just taste it.”
She warily took a piece and stared at Javier as she nibbled on the edge. As the crispy, salty taste hit her tongue, her eyes widened. It was as if that small piece of crispy meat encompassed her favorite tastes of Puerto Rican food, and it nestled in her stressed-out stomach like a warm blanket. She polished off the first piece and grabbed another as Javier chuckled.
“No one watching you eat that could ever doubt that island blood runs in your veins.”
Lupe had to smile at that. They took a seat around the fountain in the Plaza Colón and she spoke over a mouthful, her fingertips shiny with grease. “Okay, so what am I eating, really?”
“Fried pork skin.”
Somehow that wasn’t surprising.
Her mouth full of pork, she said, “So I think we need to do some research into rituals to prepare for this event. I’d like to avoid going back to Professor Ass Hat, however.”
Javier froze, food halfway to his mouth. “Rituals.”
“What?”
“I have an idea!” He went to throw the plate in the garbage but Lupe snatched the final piece off with a cry before it launched. As she shoved it in her mouth, Javier laughed, took her hand, and headed in the direction of the car.
July 9, 11:40 A.M.
Javier
JAVIER TURNED THE car into the parish parking lot. There was a circle of yelling teenagers around the basketball hoop, the ball’s rhythmic thud ringing off the stone buildings on either side. He pulled into a space and took a deep breath. Normal life, all around them. He could almost forget that the timer on his life might be running out.
Almost.
Javier took Lupe by the hand, and the crowd parted for them. Javier was pleased to see the looks of respect that came from the kids around them. They stood at the edge of the court and watched the game in mid-play, the priest smiling at his teenage opponent as he dribbled the ball, taunting him.
Javier pointed at the elder basketball player. “That’s Sebastian.”
Lupe gaped at the priest, his bare muscular chest glistening with sweat. “That’s Padre Sebastian? The Padre Sebastian who helped you? The priest?”
“Yes, why?”
“I pictured some old white-haired dude, not Lenny Kravitz!”
Javier smiled. He was proud of his mentor, though the way Lupe was looking at Sebastian made his skin itch.
It was clear the priest was just toying with his young opponent, faking back and forth until he deftly snuck around him and dunked the ball into the net, the worn metal ring clanging like a bell as his sneakers reconnected with the asphalt. Judging from the crowd’s cheers, this was the game-winning point and Javier applauded with them as Padre Sebastian put his arm around his opponent, wiping his face with his T-shirt as he beamed at the crowd. He saw Javier, left the losing boy with a fist bump, and walked over to Javier and Lupe.
Padre Sebastian shook his hand. “Hey, Javi! I thought I told you to take this week off. Were you drawn by my superior basketball skills?”
Javier grinned. “That’s it, Padre. I could sense your game all the way across town.”
“I thought so.” He looked over at Lupe. “And who’s this you have with you?”
“This is Lupe. Lupe, meet Padre Sebastian.”
Lupe’s smile threatened to split her face as she shook Sebastian’s hand. His skin itched again, though he immediately felt stupid for it. The man was a priest, for God’s sake, and over thirty years old. Ancient.
“Padre, could we talk to you? In private?”
Sebastian’s face reflected the change in Javier’s tone. “Of course, jóvenes. Vamos, let’s make some coffee, hmm?”
He pulled his sweaty T-shirt over his head and walked them into the cool parish basement. They sat down at the worn table in the priest’s office and Padre Sebastian set dark, steaming mugs of Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee in front of them. The sounds of kids’ voices and the slap of basketballs floated in the windows.
Padre Sebastian put his mug down. “Now, I know it’s the best in San Juan, but I also know you young people didn’t come here to have coffee with me. What’s on your minds?”
Javier swallowed and looked at Lupe. She nodded slowly. “Padre, have you ever heard of El Cuco?”
“El Cuco? The Puerto Rican boogeyman?”
Lupe’s voice came out in a rush. “Not just Puerto Rican. He appears in many different Latin countries around the world. In Mexico he’s called ‘El Cucuy.’ His origins are—”
The priest cut Lupe off. “I know the legends well. What about El Cuco?”
Javier started talking fast. “We think our mothers—los cangrejos’ mothers—called him by accident to keep us from getting into trouble, doing drugs. He’s killing us one by one on our eighteenth birthdays.”
Sebastian eyes widened. He took a deep breath. “Well, that’s quite a lot to digest.”
“I know it sounds crazy. I didn’t believe it either, but with all I’ve seen these past few days … well, I changed my mind. About a lot of things.”
“Where do you fit in this tale, Lupe? Is El Cuco after you, too?”
She shook her head. “No.” But she looked at the ground and Javier wondered whether there was something she wasn’t telling him.
“Izzy was her cousin,” Javier said for her.
Sebastian put his hand on hers until she looked up at him. “I’m sorry for your loss, Lupe.”
Her eyes teared up as she thanked him.
Sebastian sat back. “I don’t know, jóvenes. I think you should focus more on where the drugs are coming from that killed your friends. Isn’t that what their deaths came down to?”
“But it wasn’t the drugs that killed them.” Javier was confused.
“Oh sure it was, Javi.” He sat forward in his seat. “Even in this crazy El Cuco theory of yours, it’s when they give their lives over to the drugs that they die, right?”
Javier chewed on his lip. He and Lupe were silent. Hard to argue with that logic.
The padre continued. “I would like to see the source of the drugs cut off, perhaps starting with Las Calaveras.”
Javier laughed. “Maybe Keno is El Cuco.”
Sebastian seemed to think about that. “Maybe.” Then he asked, “So, what do you need from me?”
“We’re wondering about rituals. Like, how do we help the mothers call off El Cuco? I mean, hypothetically.” Lupe smiled.
Sebastian thought for a moment. “Well, in the Catholic church we have the seven sacraments. We frown on heathen rituals.”
Lupe sank in her chair. Javier shared her disappointment. Perhaps even Sebastian couldn’t help them.
“But here in the Caribbean those rules are, shall we say, looser?” He smiled at them with that movie-star smile and Javier let out a breath. “I think what you’re talking about is something much older.” He turned to Lupe. “This legend was brought here from Portugal in the seventeenth century, a time of great unrest and revolt. I think it’s no accident that it’s coming up again now when the island is in such terrible shape. Legends like El Cuco reassure people that there are still consequences, that the laws of right and wrong are still upheld.”
Lupe scoffed. “Yeah, but there seem to be differing concepts of right and wrong.”
“Very true.” Sebastian paused. “So, what’s your plan?”
She outlined the idea of re-creating the events of that night in the hope of calling it off.
The padre listened and nodded. When she finished he said, “I think your instincts are correct. But what you’re messing with is something not only very old, but also very dark. If we’re talking hypothetically, as you suggested, Lupe, you would have to ensure that all the original parties are present.”
“Yes, five cangrejos, five mothers. Well, except for the ones who have already … passed on,” Lupe added.
Sebastian smiled at her. “Ay, joven, I might not believe in the supernatural, but I do believe that those who pass on are always with us. They’re the one constant in this scenario. But I suggest you take a practical step since all this supernatural talk is highly unlikely. I think you should notify the police, particularly given the drug aspect of these events.”
Javier and Lupe looked at each other. Lupe said, “Well, my uncle is with the police.”
“I see. So, what does he think about your plan?”
Javier and Lupe just looked at each other.
“You haven’t told him?”
Lupe looked at the floor. “No,” she said, her voice small.
“Perhaps it’s time to turn this over to a professional. This is a dangerous game someone is playing.”
Lupe nodded and they stood. Javier guessed she had no intention of doing it, however.
“Wait, there’s something you should understand. Though of course, as a member of the Roman Catholic Church I’m not acknowledging the existence of the supernatural”—he paused and winked at them—“as a Jamaican I want to ask you to keep in mind that in legends such as this, the monster always exacts a price.”
Javier held his hands out. “But I have nothing to give.”
“Not that kind of price. If he’s not going to take you, he’s going to need someone else.”
Javier and Lupe protested at once. Then Javier said, “Well then forget it.”
Sebastian put out his hands. “This is all hypothetical, of course, but El Cuco would only want someone who truly deserved it.”
Javier dismissed it. “Yeah, well, I’m still not giving anyone up. That’s not who I am.”
Sebastian put his hands on Javier’s shoulders. “Javier, I’ve taken playing along with this too far. This whole supernatural interpretation is ridiculous, you realize that, don’t you?”
Javier nodded, but he didn’t really agree with his mentor.
Lupe had just left them to go to the ladies’ room when the priest pulled Javier aside, speaking in his quiet, calm, in-church voice.
“Javier, what is your relationship with this girl?”
“Why? You don’t like her?”
“No, no, she’s perfectly lovely, but you know you’re not supposed to get involved in romantic relationships at this point in your recovery. It’s too early and you know it.”
“We’re not involved in that way.”
“That’s what they all say.”
Javier pulled away, for the first time feeling angry with his mentor. “You don’t understand. We’re fighting this”—he gestured around wildly with his arms—“thing together.” He could see the priest starting to protest. “I need her, and she needs me.”
Sebastian’s eyes softened. “Precisely why you should not develop feelings for this girl. You are in no condition to be taking care of anyone else yet. You have more work to do. And you can’t really believe all this El Cuco stuff. You need prayer and respite, Javier. Too much has happened, too much loss.”
Javier felt heat swirl from his belly and his spine straighten. It was a familiar feeling—he had it with his mother all the time—but he’d never felt disappointed with Sebastian before. He really didn’t need lectures right now.
“You need to make sure her uncle is briefed on the situation. I know you like to fight your own fights, Javier, but this is serious. Someone could get hurt.”
Someone could get more than hurt.
Lupe walked up right then, and Javier pulled Sebastian into a hug that felt more like a goodbye than it should have, took Lupe’s hand, and walked out of the building without looking back.
Lupe’s phone buzzed with a text. She pulled it out as she walked, but stopped when she read the screen. “I think Father Sebastian and my Aunt Maria might be right.”
&nb
sp; “About what?”
Lupe looked up at him, the darkening light shadowing half her face, and held her phone up to his face so he could read the text.
tomorrow u die 2
Javier’s stomach fell.
“It’s time we go talk to my uncle.”
Lupe told him about the texts as they walked to the car.
“But why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I didn’t want to freak you out any more than you already were.”
“Too late for that.”
“Besides, I don’t have a clue who’s sending them, and I doubt El Cuco has a cell phone. And if he did I would imagine he’d have a toll-free number.” She was trying to lighten the mood. Good luck with that.
“Your uncle can trace the number, verdad?”
She shook her head so hard her ponytail fwapped him in the face. “No! Let’s just talk to him about the deadline, your birthday, even El Cuco. But not the threats.”
“Or the blue car in Old San Juan?”
“Especially not the car in Old San Juan. I’ll tell him, just not now. Okay?”
He thought of Padre Sebastian’s urging. But it was their fight, not his. He nodded.
“I’ll call tío and find out where he is.
“Tío? It’s Lupe. Well, I guess you know that already since that’s how it shows up on your phone—slow down? C’mon, keep up!” Javier loved the way the edges of her mouth lifted into a smile as she spoke. “Listen, we have to talk to you, like, now—who’s we?” She looked at Javier and smiled bigger. “It’s a long story. Where are you? Police headquarters. Six Oh One Franklin Delano. Wait, I have to type it into the GPS.…”
Javier nodded at her and gave her a thumbs-up to let her know he knew the address.
“Wait, he knows where it is—yes, he. I’ll tell you when I get there. Don’t worry, tío.”
Her face was turning that beautiful rose color as she looked at him.
He maneuvered his way to the freeway. He must have stayed quiet a long time because he felt Lupe put her hand on his leg. He looked over into her bright eyes.
“We’re going to stop this, I know it. My father says there’s nobody more stubborn than yours truly.” She pointed to her chest and smiled.
Five Midnights Page 18
