The Afterlife

by Gary Soto

  Dawg, I thought as I approached that exotic animal. I had seen llamas in books, but never one close up. Their mouths chewed, but they weren't eating anything. They just chewed and chewed, and scratched the hard ground with their hooves. Then one of them spit an orange gob in my direction. If I had had feet, they would have gotten wet. Then, as if to make a further comment about me, the llama lifted its tail and dropped four marble-sized turds that steamed in the morning light.

  "You furry little cochino!" I scolded, then laughed.

  I leaped and the wind carried me southward toward Selma and over vineyards and ranch homes. I flew across the bullet-riddled sign that announced Selma, Raisin Capital of the World, and spotted Crystal's house. I slowed my flight because I could make out Crystal's father on their front porch. His head was down and at first I believed he was crying because his shoulders were jerking. As I got closer I saw that I was wrong. He was pulling up a rusty nail with fingers as thick and callused as my dad's. His daughter was dead and, I guess, he was keeping busy. In his mind, the rusty nail had to go.

  Three cars were in the driveway, and I suspected one was an unmarked police cruiser. It just had that look. But I was wrong there, too, because soon the front door opened and a man in a black suit came out, briefcase in hand. The briefcase seemed to weigh a lot, because the man's shoulder was slumped from carrying it. I realized immediately who he was. He was the man from a funeral home, and he had just conducted business with Crystal's dad and mom. Maybe he brought out brochures about caskets and headstones. I feared the discussion.

  Full of sorrow, I swung my attention away and stared absently at the vineyards, where a blackbird on a wire was wiping its beak under a wing. "Crystal," I moaned. The blackbird, done with its primping, leveled its wings and jumped, the wire like a guitar string producing a metallic twang.

  "Chuy" I heard.

  I turned. It was Crystal, coming out of the vineyard, and she did not seem in the least shocked that my body was nearly gone. But I was troubled that her legs—how beautiful they were—were gone, as were most of her arms. Her long, brownish hair flowed, and the corners of her mouth were dented with the start of a smile.

  Crystal approached me with the stumps of her arms out. What a rare gift for an average-looking dude like me! To be the object of desire! Crystal leaned her face to mine and gave me a light kiss, then one that was heavier, for her tongue touched mine in greeting. We clunked our heads together, bashful as ponies.

  "Crystal," I whispered, my face in her neck.

  "Chuy," she said back in a sweet whisper.

  We kissed again and touched nose to nose. Was a ghost ever so happy?

  We laughed and then became quiet when the funeral man's car pulled away, raising a long cloud of farm dust. We watched the car stop at the end of the drive, its brake lights deep red against the grayish morning.

  We looked toward the house when the front door closed with a click. Crystal's father was gone, and the blackbird that I had seen earlier settled on the rail. The bird cleaned itself again, but beat its wings and lifted skyward when the door opened. Crystal's mother, shrugging into a coat, came out. She shaded her eyes, as if she was looking for her daughter, and, not finding her, began to tend to a potted plant's dead petals. I let Crystal pull in all the images of her mother that she could. I watched her take in, as if for the last time, her mother's dark hair, her face, her hands methodically pinching at dead flowers. Her mother then shaded her eyes and stared far away.

  "Oh, Mother," Crystal moaned.

  I lowered my head. Two ants were carrying a feathery seed that was three times bigger than them. The little guys had courage and purpose.

  I waited a patient five minutes before saying, Let's go.

  We turned, flowed a few inches from the ground, and found ourselves at the side of her house. Once more, I inspected the faucet where I had washed my face after the wasp stings. I gazed up at the barn, where the abandoned honeycomb nests mostly remained.

  "Chuy," Crystal volunteered. "I missed you."

  I swallowed that tender declaration.

  "I missed you, too," I said. "God, I wish I knew—"

  She cut me off, as if she could read my mind, and said, "But you know me now."

  Our deaths would be remembered by family and a few friends who might think of us as they drove through the streets of Fresno and Selma. Let them remember us as okay kids—both of us long-distance runners who didn't get very far.

  We leaped into the air and the wind took us.

  "Where are we going?" Crystal asked. Her hair swirled in front of her face, which was pink from the cold wind.

  I smiled at her. "Let's check it out," I answered without fear as we sailed over her farm and over a farm that was like hers, full of grapevines.

  They say autumn is the color of death, and, for Crystal and me, it was true. We were like the tint of fallen leaves, grass burnt by the first frost, and the ashen-colored fog that sometimes rises from the valley floor and smothers our dreams. My dream had been to grow up, work a regular job, nothing special, hang out with friends, and be with someone special like Crystal. I received a portion of that dream and felt grateful for it. I loved her like no other. She flew at my side, southward toward what, I now knew, is called the afterlife.

  * * *

  Selected Spanish Words and Phrases

  ay, dios oh, God

  borrachos drunkards

  cabrón bastard

  los campos the countryside

  cara face

  carnal blood brother

  chale no way

  chavalo child

  chicas girls

  chicharrones pork rinds

  chismosos/as gossipers

  cholo gangster

  chones underpants

  la chota the police

  churros doughnut-like pastry

  "Cielito Lindo" a song

  cochino Pig

  comadre extremely close woman friend

  cruda hangover

  entiendes understand

  feo ugly

  feria cash

  hijole wow

  huango loose, misshapen

  mala bad

  menudo a soup

  mi'jo my son

  mi abuela my grandmother

  mi novia my sweetheart

  mi papi my daddy

  mocosos snot-nosed kids

  mota marijuana

  nada más no more

  nalgas buttocks

  novio boyfriend

  paleta Popsicle

  panadería bakery

  pan dulce sweet bread

  pendejo stupid person

  placa signature graffiti

  primo cousin

  pues well

  puta whore

  qué asco how disgusting

  qué gacho what a mess/what a bad thing

  quien sabe who knows

  rancheras old-fashioned songs

  raza Latino race

  sapo toad

  sin vergüenza shameless

  suave cool

  telenovela soap opera

  tonto stupid

  tripas intestines

  vato cool guy

  viejo old man

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