Rain of Gold

by Victor Villaseñor

  Doña Guadalupe laughed, too. “Like I said, mi hijita, you have two very serious suitors, and we have much to talk about. But, of course, we don’t really know anything about either one until you meet the parents.”

  “Yes, I know. You’ve told me a thousand times, Mama.”

  “Only a thousand? Well, then, I still have more telling to do. For remember, querida, in choosing the right man it’s sometimes very difficult to tell the difference between the eagle and the hawk, especially when the raven appears, dazzling us with his noisy commotion and bag full of trickery.”

  “The raven?”

  “Well, yes, the raven, mi hijita, don’t you remember? I’ve also told you this a thousand times. He’ll come to you when you least expect it. Like out of a gorgeous flower or chasing a hawk across the heaven, pretending to be so brave and capable when in fact he isn’t, unless he loots and robs.”

  The right eye of God was just going down into the great, rippling sea when Salvador drove up between the lines of tents in his ivory-white Moon. He snaked along real easy, tipping his panama to the watching people, and he pulled up to Lupe’s castle. Don Victor and Victoriano were playing checkers on a crate over to one side, and Doña Guadalupe and her friend Doña Manza were sitting at the entrance of his queen’s home like grand old lionesses ready to do battle, but Salvador didn’t panic. He only smiled, getting out of his car with a bouquet of roses in his hand. This evening he was ready to do battle, too. He wasn’t about to get caught with his pants down as he’d been caught the first evening.

  “Buenas tardes,” he said to Don Victor and Victoriano as he came around the long, sleek roadster.

  “Buenas tardes,” they both answered him as he approached the two old women with the roses.

  “Oh, he’s brought flowers for us,” said Doña Manza, feeling full of the devil.

  “Buenas tardes,” said Doña Guadalupe.

  “These are for you,” said Salvador, taking off his hat and handing the flowers to Lupe’s mother.

  “Thank you, they smell wonderful,” said Doña Guadalupe. “You remember my friend Doña Manza?”

  “How could I forget?” said Salvador, bowing.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” said Doña Manza.

  “Why don’t you sit down and join us?” said Lupe’s mother.

  Salvador grinned. “I’d love to,” he said, glancing at the men. “But you see,” he added, bringing some tickets out of his breast pocket, “there’s an excellent new movie in town and I took the liberty of buying tickets for your son and two daughters and myself.”

  “Oh, I see,” said Doña Guadalupe.

  “I’m deeply sorry,” continued Salvador, “but with your permission, I’d like us to postpone our conversation for some other time.”

  Don Victor burst out laughing. Doña Guadalupe gave him a dirty look, seeing that she’d been outmaneuvered.

  “Well,” she said, “since you already went to the expense of buying the tickets, I guess it’s all right this time. Wouldn’t you say so?” she asked, turning to her husband.

  Don Victor only grinned. “Whatever you decide, my dear,” he said, truly enjoying the whole thing.

  “All right,” said the crafty, old she-fox, “you can go this time, but only with the understanding that you’ll come early enough next time so we can continue our conversation.”

  “Of course,” said Salvador, “and the pleasure will be entirely mine. I truly enjoyed our last talk. It reminded me a great deal of the wonderful conversations that I have with my beloved mother.”

  Both old women couldn’t help but smile. This young man was being very smooth in the keeping with their customs.

  “I’ll go get my sisters,” said Victoriano, getting to his feet.

  “Good, and please hurry,” said Salvador. “We don’t want to be late. It’s a William Hart movie.”

  “My favorite!” said Victoriano, hurrying inside.

  Nervously, Salvador put on his hat. He was hoping that they’d get away before the two old women got started in on him.

  Carlota and Victoriano came out. Salvador could see that they were both very good-looking young people, having inherited the best from each of their parents. But when Lupe stepped out of the tent, his heart exploded. Why, she had to be the most beautiful woman in the whole world, standing there in a simple, cream-colored dress with her long, dark hair flowing down to her shoulders in rich, full curls.

  “Good evening,” said Salvador to Lupe, taking off his panama again.

  “Good evening,” said Lupe, giving a slight curtsy.

  He came forward and reached out to take her hand and when their two hands touched, there it was again. Something truly magical happened every time they touched, a warmth, a mysterious power, passed between them.

  “Well,” he said, “we best be going so we can make the movie.”

  He put his hat back on, tipping it to Lupe’s mother and Doña Manza and he took Lupe’s arm, walking her to his car. But, before he could put his truelove in the front seat, Victoriano, who’d been checking out the Moon, climbed into the front passenger seat.

  “Let them ride in back,” he said to Salvador, acting just like a brother. “I want to talk to you about the car.”

  Salvador smiled. “Certainly,” he said.

  Helping Lupe into the rumble seat in back with Carlota, Salvador felt her squeeze his hand, giving him reassurance. He felt such a wonderful rush of emotion shoot through him that he almost grabbed her.

  The movie was good. But what was far better was the soft darkness of the theater and Lupe and Salvador sitting together, feeling the magic of their closeness. Lupe had never been to the movies like this before. Sure, she’d gone with her brother, sister, Jaime and his friends, but she’d never been driven in a grand automobile to the theater with a man for whom she felt so many different feelings.

  She breathed deeply and wondered what was expected of her. Her sister was sitting on her left and Victoriano on the other side of Carlota. If Salvador tried to take her hand and caress it, was she supposed to let him do it?

  She began to giggle, remembering how girls back home in La Lluvia had thought that they could get pregnant by just holding an americano’s hand. She watched the movie, eating popcorn, reaching into the bag and bumping his hand now and then. Oh, to be this close to a man. How far away that world of her childhood now seemed.

  And there they were, two human beings, holding, feeling, breathing, staring at the screen, watching William Hart and his fine horse. Then the screen went dark, going into a nighttime scene, and Salvador reached for her hand, taking it.

  Lupe gasped, and she didn’t really want to, but her hand took on a life of its own, and she gripped Salvador’s hand with such power that it frightened her.

  Oh, Lupe was ready to scream, she was so excited! Oh, to touch, to feel, to truly come to know the warmth of another human being was so profound a sensation. Why, she was trembling.

  Salvador was feeling the same intensity. Wonderful, hot feelings, palms growing damp and sweating, but still not being able to let go of her hand until the screen was bright again. Then, they quickly let go of each other, not wanting anyone to realize what was going on between them. They were reeling, shooting to the stars, two human beings knowing down deep inside themselves without a shadow of a doubt that this love that they were feeling came from God, and only from God.

  The movie continued, dark and then bright, and they continued feeling magical, man and woman, finally touching, finally beginning the courtship of love after so many years of searching, yearning, and sometimes thinking that they’d die without fulfillment.

  Dropping Lupe and her brother and sister off, Salvador drove over to see Archie to tell him that he couldn’t stay in hiding. He had to go and see his mother and tell her about this miracle that he’d found.

  But walking into the well-lit, almost empty pool hall, Salvador didn’t find Archie. The smell of the hard night of smoking and drinking and sweating almos
t knocked Salvador off his feet.

  The pool hall was the center of the barrio for the young men. It was the place where single men got their mail and came to drink bootleg whiskey in the alley and hang out with other men. It was as much the heart of life in the barrio for the men as the church was the lifeline for the women.

  In the back, Salvador found Archie untying a couple of men that he’d arrested earlier. It also made good sense for the local law to own and run the pool hall, since that’s where all the fights got started anyway.

  “All right, guys,” Archie was telling the two men, “now you two go home and sleep it off. I don’t want to see either of you out again tonight or I’ll take you out of town and make you walk home to cool off. Get me?”

  Both men nodded and Archie told Don Viviano, the one-armed man who worked for him, to escort them out.

  “So, it’s been a good night, eh?” said Salvador once they were alone.

  “Not bad,” said Archie, grinning. “So how does it go with you, lover boy?”

  “The best!” said Salvador.

  “Well, that’s great; I’m glad to hear that, but be careful. A man in love can be a very stupid hombre.”

  “That’s what I got to talk to you about,” said Salvador.

  “Shoot,” said Archie, closing the door.

  “Well, you see,” said Salvador, “my mother, she’s old, Archie, real old, and all my life we been close. So I got to go see her and tell her about Lupe,” he said, breathing deeply, holding back an avalanche of emotion.

  “Well, well,” said the big lawman, pouring himself a drink. “I was close to my mother, too, Sal. But I just can’t let you go up there right now. It could jeopardize everything I’m doing. You see, I told Wesseley that I got first-hand information that you’re back in Jalisco and ain’t never coming back, so he better just round out his report so he don’t look bad and say that you were killed along with Julio and his wife in that wreck.”

  “You what?” said Salvador. “But don’t that mean you need a third body?”

  “Hell, getting dead bodies ain’t no problem,” said Archie. “Especially Mexicans. Hell, that’s the easy part. The big problem is that I gotta convince Wesseley that it won’t backfire on him later. Catchee my lingo? Hell, these Fed bastards don’t give a shit about justice, Sal. They just wanna look good in black and white so they can get their suck-points.”

  “All right,” said Salvador, “then what you’re saying is I got to stay put here in Carlsbad until you give me the word.”

  “Exactly,” said Archie. “I can cover your ass here in the barrio, but I can’t do shit for you if you leave.”

  Salvador didn’t say anything. He was thinking, figuring how else he could get word to his mother.

  “Don’t even think it,” said Archie. “Like I’ve told you, old Archie here ain’t half dumb! Fuck up and I’ll come down on you myself!”

  Salvador started laughing. Archie knew him too well.

  All that night, Salvador tossed and turned on the mattress on the floor in the back room of Kenny’s garage. He dreamed he was a child once again and the soldiers were coming through their mountains, raping and plundering.

  He jerked awake, sitting up in a bath of sweat. The dream had been so vivid, so real, he was still shaking. He thought of his mother, of all that they’d been through together, and he just knew he couldn’t live another day without telling her about Lupe. What if his old mother died before she ever got to know that her struggle hadn’t been in vain, that he’d truly met the woman of his highest dreams?

  He got up. Archie or no Archie, he was going to take the bull by the horns and go up to Corona and see his old mother. But he had to be careful, very, very careful.

  Borrowing Kenny’s truck, Salvador took off before daybreak. He was just coming into the Anglo part of Corona when he saw his mother and Luisa walking up the street to the church. His mother looked so dark and tiny, all bent over with age, talking constantly as she went shuffling along. Luisa, on the other hand, was wide and fair-skinned, walking with power.

  Salvador’s whole heart came bursting into his eyes. Why, he’d just found a treasure worth a million dollars. His sister and mother, the two great women of his life, coming to the church so he could tell them both about his truelove.

  Watching them climb the steps of the church along with the other people, Salvador saw something happen that twisted his heart. The well-dressed Anglos looked at his beloved mother and sister as if they were the plague. They moved away from his family with disgust.

  Salvador pulled over and leaped out of the truck, wanting to kill the bastards. But he knew he couldn’t afford to bring attention to himself. He calmed down and ran up the steps to his sister and mother.

  “Luisa!” he called.

  Seeing her brother, Luisa let out a shriek, startling the people about them. She grabbed her brother in her powerful arms, tears bursting from her eyes, she was so happy.

  “Where have you been? she yelled. “We found Epitacio! You’ll never believe it! He didn’t desert us in Douglas! He was tricked and shipped north to Cheea-cago or someplace like that,” she continued speaking rapidly in Spanish. The people coming up the steps moved farther away from them. “And he found someone! Guess who!”

  “Who?” asked Salvador, turning to his mother, releasing himself from his sister’s bone-crushing abrazo.

  “Domingo!” said his old mother, wiping the tears of joy from her old eyes.

  “No!” cried Salvador.

  “Yes,” said the toothless old lady. “Epitacio says that he found a man named Domingo Villaseñor in Cheea-cago! So we hired Rodolfo to write a letter for us to that address! The teacher has beautiful penmanship. It will be a letter to respect when it arrives there,” she added, eyes dancing with happiness.

  “Oh, Mama! That’s wonderful!” said Salvador.

  “And that’s not all,” said Luisa, lowering her voice. “The police have left, so you can come home now.”

  “The ones in the orchard?” asked Salvador.

  “Yes,” said his mother.

  “Oh, my God,” said Salvador. “Someone really is watching out for us in heaven!”

  “But of course,” said his old mother, taking him in her skinny, old arms. “Did you ever have doubt? Now come, let us go inside and give our thanks to the Almighty.”

  “Domingo, my God!” yelled Salvador. He just couldn’t believe it. Here he was, crazy in love, and they may have found one of his lost brothers, too.

  Taking his mother by the arm, they went up the stairs and into the dark coolness of the high-ceilinged church.

  The priest came out in his long robe, the same one who’d been watching Salvador, and the services began. Luisa and her mother fingered their rosaries, then went up to the altar to receive holy communion, the sacred body and blood of Christ. But Salvador didn’t. Ever since he’d crossed the Rio Grande he’d avoided Our Savior.

  After the services, their mother asked Salvador for five dollars to put in the poor box and she lit a candle for the American Postal Service so that God, in his Almighty wisdom, would help their letter get safely to Chicago.

  They could hardly wait to get outside so they could continue talking.

  “Is Epitacio at home right now?” asked Salvador.

  They were outside on the steps of the church, and the sun was just beginning to get warm.

  “No, he went to find work,” said Luisa, “and I know what you’re thinking, so stop it. He didn’t desert us, he really didn’t, so it’s not his fault that you went to prison.”

  “Oh, so it’s not his fault, eh?” said Salvador.

  “Mama,” said Luisa, “you tell Juan that he better be nice to Epitacio when he sees him or I’ll brain him!”

  “Mi hijito,” said Doña Margarita, “your sister is right. We can’t just go around blaming people about the past, because there are no ‘ifs’ in life. Remember the saying, ‘If my aunt had balls she’d be my uncle.’ Bygones have to be
bygones or we’ll go crazy. And not only because you went to prison, but everything! What if Don Pío had been able to speak to Don Porfirio? Then maybe there wouldn’t have even been a Revolution and I’d still have my entire family,” she said, tears coming to her eyes. “Or what if your father hadn’t come into town and I’d never married and never had kids, eh? It’s endless.”

  Salvador nodded. “All right, I’ll keep all that in mind, Mama,” he said. “But now, no more about this. I want to hear about Domingo, so then I can tell you my good news.” But inside, his heart was pounding. He truly did blame Epitacio for all the misery that he’d endured.

  “What good news?” asked his mother.

  As they spoke, the tall priest came up behind them in the darkness. His eyes looked like he was up to no good.

  “Well, one,” said Salvador, trying to calm down, “it looks like a friend of mine is going to be able to fix it up so the cops will stop looking for me. You see,” he continued, “Julio and his wife got killed in my car, so he’s going to fix it so they think I’m dead, too.”

  “What?” said his mother, making the cross over herself. “Julio and his wife are dead? That’s awful. I prayed for the cops to go after them, but I never meant for God to go this far.”

  “Oh, Mama,” said Luisa, “do you really think you have that much power?”

  “Of course,” she said, making the sign of the cross again. “We’re going to have to pray for their souls,” she added.

  “Thank you, Mama,” said Salvador. “Julio was a good man. And also, from now on, call me ‘Salvador’,” he said. “Juan, he’s gone; he went back to Los Altos.”

  “I see,” said his mother, “so my prayers have indeed been answered, and you can quit what you do and start a whole new life.”

  Salvador nodded. “Yes, I can.”

  “Good,” said his mother, wiping the tears from her eyes, “and what else do you have to tell us? Did you meet Lupe’s mother?”

  Salvador’s whole face lit up. He couldn’t help himself. “Yes,” he said, “I did.”

  Tears streamed like rivers from Doña Margarita’s wrinkled-up, old alligator eyes. “Oh, it gives me such joy to have lived to see this day!” she said. “The baby of my family in love, and one of my lost sons resurrecting from the dead. So tell us, don’t waste time,” said the old lady, kissing her rosary.