Name of the Dog

by Elmer Mendoza

  Two days later Samantha received a few polite calls and visits. She asked them not to leave their territories and not to panic either, saying that everything would come out in the wash, but from that moment on only the kingpins themselves would meet, no more lieutenants. I never thought all those bodies were ours, most of them said, and they offered their support. When Hunk Gómez found out what had happened, he could not quite put it all together. He had been awakened the day after by his bodyguards, bereft of money and women, and it did not take him long to figure out he had missed the meeting. What a dimwit you are, he railed at the fat one, since someone had to be held responsible. He tried not to make any ripples, and a few hours after his return to Tijuana the matter was forgotten. Now he thought he had better mention it to his boss as soon as the man got back from Las Vegas, where at that moment he was busy was losing several thousand dollars.

  While her people wreaked havoc, Samantha Valdés closeted herself in the mansion in Lomas de San Miguel, her mother and son at her side. She cursed, she cried, she threatened; her mother attempted to distract her and console her with advice: Only the boss knows the load he carries and some days that load is hard to bear, but that’s why he’s the boss: to be tough, to know how to suffer in silence and never to waver in his decisions. That’s the way my father was, wasn’t he? If men like him aspired to political office, my husband would have been president. Imagine that, you would have been the first lady. Nonsense, there are things that are not for the likes of us; and you, my daughter, how long are you going to go on with these killings? Until it’s enough. Minerva observed her for a few seconds, then gave her a hug: No more, please, I’m begging you; and if no-one in Culiacán dies, all the better; however you look at it, in the end we’re all neighbours. Samantha took comfort in her arms, wanted to accede to her plea, but still did not feel sated. She whimpered: I promise, Mama. Minerva made her look into her eyes. In memory of your father? She nodded and continued crying. Lying in the garden beside a tree filled with Christmas balls, Luigi waited.

  That night the toll rose by another twenty-seven and counting.

  Twenty-One

  The black pickup with California plates was parked across from the house of Doña Mary, the widow Luján. When Lefty spotted it ahead he kept walking, but he felt a slight chill in the pit of his stomach: Does this concern me, or am I one of those idiots who thinks he has rights over a woman the moment she opens her legs to him? Well, we have a son together and we’ve had a good time, even so I’d better call Jason, she said he acted like the head of the family. You want to go, don’t play the dummy, curiosity is going to kill you. Hang on . . . Stop going in circles, Lefty, the chick is hot and she’s eager. Who the fuck asked you to stick your nose in? Me, I’m your body, asshole, and I haven’t been so lovingly caressed in a very long time. So don’t mess with me. You don’t expect us to share her with that faggot from the pickup, do you? Silence. Aha, that shut your trap, didn’t it, fucking Lefty? Come on, let me think, let’s find out what shit that bro is up to and then we’ll see. But his rumination continued: What am I after? do I want to be her Kleenex? maybe she’s laying a trap and here I go with my innocent mug and fall right into it? “Lady, look at what your love has made of me.” He spied the Jetta parked across from the pickup, and the idea of turning back took hold of him. He slowed his steps. Maybe they’re having a heart-to-heart, they’ve reached some agreement, they’re going to start a new family, why should I show my face? He was fifty metres away when he heard a gunshot and it came from the house. Shit, he started trotting and, go figure, he did not have his pistol with him; he expected the neighbours to come out, but no-one did, maybe they thought it was fireworks; it was the right time of year. At the gate he could hear women crying. He tore up the garden path, found the front door ajar and opened it the way police do, with a kick. Jason turned to look at him, as did Susana, Doña Mary, two children including the one that had opened the door for him the first night, plus a boy Jason’s age, and of course a tall, brawny gringo with tattoos on his arms. He was wearing a tight T-shirt. Ooh-la-la.

  Shouts of Edgar, hey, aha, oh-oh, whoa; and the glassy stare of the gringo whose name could not possibly be Arnold Schwarzenegger, but damned if he didn’t look like him.

  Jason was pointing a nickel-plated revolver at Arnold.

  Susana Luján was wearing white, like Susana San Juan in Pedro Páramo, and looking just as pale.

  Lefty, his balls in his throat, stared at them for a long moment right out of Salvador Elizondo’s Farabeuf. “April Come She Will” by Simon & Garfunkel crossed his mind, why? no idea, “The Boxer” would have made more sense. What’s going on? This man has been stalking my mother, Jason said coldly; he harasses her at her work, at our house in Pasadena, and as if that weren’t enough he followed us all the way here. No-one seemed to be wounded. Mendieta felt an urge to order, Shoot the fucking jerk in the head, but what he said was: Put down the gun. I can explain, Susana blurted out, all jittery but still looking as though she had been painted by Velázquez. You explain nothing, Schwarzenegger barked, his breath stinking of alcohol, this is my business, and he turned to face the newcomer, who could not feel his heartbeat. Please, Susana touched the gringo’s arm. Let go, you cheap whore, you promised me something, and if this guy’s the problem then I’m getting him out of the way. No, you won’t, that guy is my father. Holy Mary, Mother of God. Jason took aim again, but Arnold was focused on the detective and he had his dukes up.

  Get into the bedroom, Doña Mary ordered the children and Susana. Wait a minute, you’re wrong, I didn’t promise you a thing or anyone else for that matter. But you’re going out with this jerk, I’ve seen you. Now you know, he’s my son’s father and of course we have things we have to talk about. Of course, taking him to bed all week or maybe it’s been longer. Hey, hey, fucking gringo, if the snit you’re in is about me, leave the lady alone. Jason lowered his gun, suddenly he felt protected, and a pleasant sense of relief washed over his face. Lefty and the gringo eyed each other as if they were the first men to invade the moon and were battling for the hand of the king’s daughter.

  Arnold went at him, driven by a boundless rage born of race, social position, being in enemy territory and more. Lefty saw him coming, tried to dodge, but took a powerful right to the right shoulder that rocked him back. Shit. Doña Mary and Susana shrieked. Jason pulled them aside and put them in the bedroom with the children, who were peeking out excitedly; he told Gustavo to guard the door. Mendieta went at his rival’s torso and kneed him in the crotch, but the man seemed unaffected; on the contrary, he landed a mighty blow on the detective’s cheek, which made him topple back. Jason, who had his revolver in his belt, caught him. But Mendieta had a temper, a brother who had been a guerrilla and a son to lose. I’m a badge, and in this country to be a badge you’ve got to be suicidal and nobody’s role model, so you’re going to suck my dick, asshole. With one swat a sweating Schwarzenegger knocked over the Christmas tree strung with coloured balls, while Mendieta broke a chair over his back, which made him smile.

  Jason understood that Lefty had little chance of winning and got ready to rescue him: a bullet in the leg would put a dent in Arnold’s bravery. But for Lefty the best offence was a good defence, he took advantage of his opponent’s momentum to haul him crashing into a column and knee him in the belly. The gringo hit the floor with his hands, but got up as if nothing had happened. Lefty backed away. Is Robocop real? He opened the door and before stepping out he made a sign to the gringo to follow. The children, all a-twitter, lined up at the window.

  Between the house and the low metal fence was a small garden, four by ten metres, that Doña Mary cared for like the daughter she always wanted: roses, gerberas, lilies, peace lilies, spearmint, a bougainvillea in one corner and in this season many poinsettias. The boxers traded punches near the roses. Jason watched from the doorway; the cousin who wanted to kill himself came out with a baseball bat signed by Adrián González, which Jason had brought him as a p
resent. Mendieta, as best he could, got under the guard of Schwarzenegger, who blocked him and punched wildly, though he was beginning to show fatigue. Two minutes later, the fence was lined with neighbours. Men, women, children and dogs. A fist fight is something no-one in Culiacán wants to miss. They watched Arnold, who was a heavyweight, wallop Lefty, who was a born welterweight. A moment later they were shouting: Come on, Lefty, that faggot’s going to fall, that’s the way. Hit him down low, but fool him, fake him out. Lefty, don’t stand still. Fuck that bag of steroids, my man Lefty, you can do it. In the liver, Lefty, hit him in the liver. Meanwhile, the detective danced and stung; something was happening to make him see Arnold’s tremendous blows coming, evade them in time and hammer his own punches down low, where bit by bit it was feeling softer.

  What was also happening was that the shouts were encouraging him and at the same time whittling away at the blondie, who knew this could not end well. Suddenly, without a word, he raised his hands, turned his back, pushed his way through the crowd and got into his pickup and raced off. The bros gave a light round of applause: That’s my man Lefty, what fuckers. We’ll be seeing you, Lefty. Well done, let those cocksuckers know who they’re messing with. And they wandered back home to watch television. Mendieta looked at the shambles of the garden and turned toward a smiling Jason. I’m going home, clean all this up, would you? No, I’ll go with you; Gustavo, tell Mama I’ll be right back; let’s go in the car, you’re pretty beat up. In fact he was bleeding from the nose and mouth, his cheek was swollen, his ribs hurt, his clothes were torn and his boots were full of mud. Susana rushed out and climbed into the back seat, then started rubbing Lefty’s shoulders, eliciting a yelp when she touched the right one. We’d better go to a clinic so they can check you out. It’s not that bad. Are you sure?

  Who was this woman he had fought for? He closed his eyes. What did it mean?

  “Why it should be I have no clue, since I’m the kind who never forgets, but yet I must admit it’s true, I forgot that I forgot you.” Sincerely, El Cigala.

  Twenty-Two

  Dusk. Overcast again. Devil Urquídez and Drysnot inserted new magazines into their A.K.-47s at the same time. Click. Chopper Tarriba looked at them and caressed his bazooka. They were in Humaya Gardens guarding La Jefa, who had brought a bouquet of roses and a large framed photograph of a smiling Mariana. The mausoleums were small palaces with brilliantly coloured cupolas. Some featured Christmas decorations with potted poinsettias in the aisles. Others seemed abandoned. Cool breeze. Devil lit a cigarette. Drysnot was sweating. Ever since the events in Mazatlán impatience was the rule for him, he wanted to die, but with dignity, how could that asshole of a phantom have escaped him? when? he only got distracted for one second when a blonde gringa took off her wet T-shirt: What great tits, God, what itsy-bitsy underwear.

  Inside the pink-tiled tomb, Samantha Valdés was praying before the photograph she had just hung. She crossed herself. Dearest, whoever it was will pay a high price, I promise you that, even if it brings the world to an end. The mausoleum smelled of roses and other flowers not yet wilted. Candles burning. Who was it? When you have so many enemies, you don’t know where to start. It took a lot of balls to do this to me. You saw him, send me a sign so we can wring his neck sooner; I never knew of anyone who hated you enough to do this. It takes smarts to get around Max’s guards; so he or they must have planned it really well. Suppose they were Max’s enemies? Why fool myself: his enemies are my enemies, and yours too, just as mine are yours. She straightened a flower. I could exterminate the entire family of that traitor Eloy Quintana, but was it really them? My mother wants me to stop, what do you think? Eloy’s wife is your comadre and I hear she’s really upset. Honey, you have to give me a hand, who shot you? Oh, at home I’ve got that Sor Juana book you were so excited about, I promise I’ll read it as soon as I can.

  A pickup with tinted windows approached. Devil, Drysnot and the rest on alert. Guns at the ready. Hang on, Devil murmured, pointing his A.K., let them get a little closer; Chopper had them in his sights. The pickup rolled another ten metres and stopped; it sat unmoving for half a minute, then quickly reversed. Several bullet-holes were evident in one of the doors. The gunslingers relaxed and lit new cigarettes. Fear doesn’t travel by burro, my man Devil. Neither does bravery, my man Drysnot; look smart because La Jefa just came out. They spied Samantha, who was immediately surrounded by men in dark caps. She went off in her car, and they followed.

  Happy: they felt needed and chose not to remember.

  Twenty-Three

  They met up at Café Marimba on Niños Héroes Parkway for a carrot juice. I’m glad you got what you were after, fucking Faggot, they were at an outside table. Thanks to you. To me? don’t fuck with me, I don’t come anywhere near getting along with those bros: as far as I’m concerned the Valdés are the worst to ever come out of these parts. That’s why my thank you is a big one. They drank: Estrada half the glass, Ugarte a sip. They’re a bunch of bastards, they were in on me getting pinched and all that suffering I went through. Norah Jones’ live version of “Don’t Know Why” on the sound system. But you didn’t rat on them. They only asked me about the old man at the beginning, later on when I wanted to talk about him or mentioned him as responsible, the uniforms played deaf, they wanted to know about everyone except that scum. Not only are they obviously powerful, they seem to know how to stay on top. Don’t doubt it, fucking Faggot, they’ve got half the world paid off. Hey, for a business to run well that’s what it takes, no? If you say so, aren’t you the expert? The best part was that the weather was fucking great. Listen, now that we’re into it, there’s a big fat rumour making the rounds that the meeting got out of hand, did you see anything? What do you mean? Word is there was shooting, bodies and broken windows. Really? not while I was around, as soon as it was over I was out of there, and the rest of them did the same. People say there was a gunfight and several bros got whacked. Well, like I say, not while I was there, you say people got killed? You know I don’t know shit, that’s what the guys are saying. And even if you knew you wouldn’t let it slip, you’re a time capsule, I.B.M. Not about that stuff, you know anything that has to do with the Valdés family means shit to me; and now that you’re retired what’s next? are you going to start up that bordello for under-twenties you talked about, to teach the youth how to enjoy themselves in bed instead of being fucking wankers? Even better: I’m going to die. Well, of course, what did you think, asshole, you were going to stick around for fucking ever? you aren’t such fucking hot shit. I’ve got colon cancer, he didn’t want to say prostate. A sudden breeze. Are you serious or are you just being a fucking jerk? Nope, serious. They both looked down to the river’s edge, where willows cast their shadows. That’s why you’re so pasty? My friend, I’ve only got a couple of months left, and I’m going to spend it with my family. You always were a henpecked husband. It’s my best option. Did you get a second opinion? A scrapbook full of them and they all say the same thing, plus that an operation would be fatal. Fucking Faggot, the fact is you’re always doing wild shit and you talk about it like it was nothing. This is our goodbye, I.B.M. Another long look at the river, grey under the cloudy sky. That cancer, is it common for people our age? They never told me, do you remember Miranda, that guy in high school who was always so spiffed up? Of course, fucking Oriental, more fat-faced than his fucking mother. One day I ran into him in Phoenix at one of those high-tech oncology clinics, he had something on his skin. So it turns out I’m the healthy one. You’ve already got dementia, buddy, and your ups and downs are nothing to spit at, or have you forgotten how much you scream at night? They drank. Listen, don’t give St Peter too much shit. I won’t, you’ll see when you turn up. And don’t be pulling my feet after you, asshole. They way they stink, the thought won’t cross my mind. And here I was thinking colon had to do with Columbus and all the little Christophers that came after. They smiled.

  Dense gunfire could be heard coming from the Botanical Gardens; both
of them shook their heads as if to say there was no fixing it. I’m going to be better off up there. No fucking way am I tempted, Faggot, not until my number comes up. What’s come up is your turn to pay. Even halfdead you’re still a sponger. Estrada fell silent, suddenly his friend’s face looked different. Bones and dark cavities without much to sweeten them. He closed his eyes and the clarity blinded him.

  Twenty-Four

  On Monday Mendieta woke up a wreck. Not only did everything still hurt but he felt rattled by Susana’s invasion of his space, she had stayed late to watch over him. A few glasses of whisky before bed had worked to wake him up early enough, but they did not ease the pain; as soon as he considered it prudent he gave Zelda Toledo a call. Don’t forget to bring Gori in this afternoon, I didn’t get to it yesterday; he needs his self-esteem back and we have to lend him a hand. Jason turned up early, gave him the number from the black pickup’s plates and the name of the hotel where Arnold Schwarzenegger was staying. Though the guy had broken the law, Lefty decided to do nothing unless he turned up to bother Susana again; if the asshole keeps at it I’ll toss him in the slammer. Then his mind drifted back to the young sexy girl he once took to Sandy’s restaurant on Obregón long ago: Two hamburgers with jalapeños, fries, two Cokes and two malteds, one vanilla and one chocolate. Mine with double tomato, double cheese and lime.