by Jayna King
I went looking for Joker.
Chapter 2
Moses
Sunday January 22, 2012
"So it's settled, then," Joker said, sitting at his usual place at the head of the table. "We're going to start another lab out near Florissant, and make sure the guys in Fort Collins have enough crank to push the Vandals all the way back to Wyoming where they belong."
I wasn't sure I wanted to say anything, but I figured that I should speak up now, or lose the chance. "I'm for it. The vote was unanimous, but we have to be prepared. The Vandals aren't gonna take this lying down, and we know they're gonna be out for blood."
Bug's lip curled like he smelled something nasty. "So you wanna pussy out, big guy?"
Part of me wanted to break his nose, but most of me knew it wasn't worth it. Since Bug had become the VP a couple of years ago, he'd never stopped thinking that I was somehow out for his position. The fact of the matter was that if I'd wanted it, I could have had it any time. My dad and my uncle had founded the MC, and the truth was that I just didn't want to work that hard. I loved all of the benefits of being a Savage Son -- the parties, the booze, the sex, the drugs if I wanted them -- but I had my hands full with my tattoo shop, and I didn't want to have to fight some angry little guy for the VP slot. He had no idea how I felt, because it was too much fun to watch him strut around thinking that I coveted what he had.
"Bug, you're a fucking idiot. I'm all for selling more crank and raking in more money. I'm just saying that we need to be on the lookout for the fight that's headed our way. That's all I'm saying."
Bug's eyes narrowed, and I could see him start to stand up before J.C. put his hand on Bug's arm to hold him in place. I didn't like J.C., either, but he had more sense than his VP buddy.
"Moses is right." Sally was usually the calming influence in the group. He and Joker were the old men of the MC, and helped hold things together when the volatile egos of drunk bikers threatened the unity of the group. "I'll call Jimmy and let him know that we've decided to step up production to meet their needs and warn them to be alert. I'll tell 'em we'll send folks up if they need backup."
Joker lit another cigarette. "Sounds good. Now we need to deal with the problem of getting enough supplies to make more meth. We're completely tapped out on a couple of ingredients, and I think we should see what more we can get from Don Roberto."
The room was quiet. A couple of the guys had misgivings about our dealings with the Mexican cartel, even though we only brought in small quantities of things that the new laws in the US had made it harder to get. I had no such reservations.
"I'll be the first to volunteer for a field trip. I think there are a few senoritas that I didn't get to when we were down there a few months ago."
"As your president, I'll sacrifice my time to make the trip as well," Joker said, sitting up straighter and acting all formal. "Who else is in?"
Sally looked at the calendar we kept on the wall. "If we wait about a month, I can probably make it a group ride, or if you want to go sooner, I'm out. My old lady is going to visit her sister, and I have to watch her fuckin' dog."
Zeno, usually the quietest member, started laughing. "I think you should throw that yappy fuckin' thing on the grill and come to Mexico. I'm in with Joker and Moses."
The room dissolved into laughter.
"If you three want to go, I'll stay here and hold down the fort," Bug said. "We need to get started building the lab, anyway."
"Makes sense to me," Joker agreed. "So the three of us?" he asked, looking around the room. No one else spoke up. "When can we leave?"
I looked at the calendar in my phone. "I have a few appointments next week, but I can clear some time after that. We could leave this Friday if I can reschedule my Saturday work."
We finalized plans for Mexico, and Joker authorized Bug to access whatever club funds he'd need to get to work on the lab. The new one in Florissant would bring our total to four -- all located way out in the middle of nowhere. Florissant was actually closer to me than any of the other places, since I'd just settled in to the new house I'd built. I hadn't invited any of the Sons over, and I wasn't sure I wanted to. I'd kind of decided that I liked the privacy and having a place that was completely separate from the crazy life I lived with the MC.
"That's enough religion for one day," Joker said when we'd finished all of our weekly business. "Church is over, boys."
We adjourned to the bar, and Angel set up a round of shots for all of us.
"So, Mexico again?" I said to Zeno as we downed the whiskey.
"Hell, yeah," he answered. "Wouldn't miss it. Think we'll be invited to stay at Don Roberto's hacienda?"
I shook my head. "I hope so, but I wouldn't count on it. We're small potatoes compared to the guys they sell weed and coke to. Pseudoephedrine ain't all that exciting or profitable, I don't think."
"Probably right. Wouldn't mind seeing the place, though."
"Me, either. The parties they've had there are legendary. Maybe we should hint around to Luis that we're looking for a little higher class company."
"Can't hurt."
I laughed at the typical Zeno response. He was my closest friend, and the man hardly ever said more than two words together. Trying to decide whether I wanted another shot or a beer, I nearly jumped out of my skin when Red appeared at my elbow.
"Jesus," I said. "I didn't see you there."
She looked tired, which wasn't unusual. Red and Krystal were roommates, and while Krystal had the sense to stay clear of the crank we dealt, Red most definitely did not. She turned tricks when she needed to score meth, and she looked every bit the part of a tweaker. She was skinny, had bad skin, and looked like she had sold her soul many years ago. She also looked about ten years older than she really was.
"Moses, I gotta talk to you."
I dreaded hearing whatever she was about to say. I'd have bet that she was short on money and needed a fix. "What's up?"
"The last guy I saw last night didn't have the cash he was supposed to. He was short."
"So what's the problem? You don't get the money, you don't put out. It's pretty fuckin' simple."
She looked uneasy. "Well, he didn't have all of the money, but he had some coke, and..." Her voice trailed off.
I knew exactly what had happened. She'd fucked a guy for drugs, which meant that the Sons got nothing out of the deal. Not acceptable. "Well, I don't know what to tell you, honey," I said, waving to Angel for a drink. "You'll get your next crank fix when we get the money you owe us."
"But Moses," she whined, desperation plain in her expression. "I can't wait. I need it now."
"What's the problem? Coke high wear off?"
Red scratched her scab-covered arms, not realizing that she was starting to bleed a little. "That's not funny, Moses. I need it. I'll do whatever you want if you'll just get me some."
I didn't even try to hide the disgust I felt. "All I want's your money, you fuckin' whore. If you're too fucked up to handle your business, maybe we should find another girl to take your place."
Panic flooded her face. "No, Moses. I'll get you the money, I promise. I just need a fix before I go back out. Whatever you want. I'll blow you, you name it. I need some bad."
She disgusted me.
"I don't fuck hookers, at least not ones who look like tweakers. You're not getting your fix from me." I walked away before she could plead her case any further. I knew she'd probably find some dude stupid enough to let her blow him and score some meth, but I wasn't gonna be that guy. I had standards, and Red was beneath them. I drank my beer and watched her disappear into one of the back rooms with one of the hang-arounds, and I shook my head. The guy was gonna have to learn that lesson the hard way.
Draining the last of my beer, I got another one and went in search of Joker. I found him watching a pool game between Sally and one of the hang-arounds.
"Hey, we've got another little problem with Red," I said, sitting on one of the barstools next to him.
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"What's that?" Joker asked, eyes never leaving the table.
"She went out on a job last night and didn't get the money. Fucked the guy for some coke."
"Goddammit."
"Yeah, I told her that she still owes us the money and that we won't give her anymore crank until we get it, but we may need to make an example of her."
"This should be the VP's job."
I just looked at Joker, trying to decide what to say. "Do you want to bring it to him, or should I?"
Joker thought for a minute, taking the time to light a cigarette. "I'll do it." He turned to look at me. "You sure you're not doing anything to mess with Bug?"
"Joker, I swear to God. I mean, every now and then I'll poke at him a little, but I really don't egg him on. He thinks I'm jealous of his position or some such bullshit, but that's his fuckin' problem. I'm not after his job."
Joker turned his gaze back to the pool game. "You'd be better than he is."
His statement hung here between us. I knew Joker had been disappointed when I hadn't thrown my name in the ring for VP, but I really hadn't wanted it. I had my hands full at the studio, and Bug only worked part-time every now and then. He had the time, and he'd wanted it so bad he could taste it. I'm sure I'd have gotten VP if I'd wanted it, but Bug and I wouldn't have been able to stay in the same MC. Now, don't get me wrong. I didn't give a shit whether Bug stayed or left. I thought he was a piece of shit, but I just didn't care enough to rock the boat. He wanted it; I let him have it. I'd thought things would settle down after he'd had the office for a while, but we were a couple of years out, and Bug still thought he wanted to pick a fight with me. Stupid fucker.
"That's not the point, Joker. He's our VP, and he's making an ass of himself, but that's his call. I just think we need to address this Red situation before our hookers start thinking that they run the show and can tell us how it's going to be."
"Find Bug and send him over," Joker said, pouring himself another drink.
I walked off in search of the VP, and I hoped that Joker would keep an eye on Bug and not just give him free reign with Red. She was a sleaze and not the least bit trustworthy, but she was still a person, and I'd seen a cruel streak in Bug that I didn't like. I figured it was Joker's call, though. He was in charge.
"Joker wants you," I said, when I'd found Bug and J.C. sitting at their usual corner of the bar.
"What's he want?" Bug asked, and I was surprised that his tone of voice didn't seem defensive, just curious.
"I think it's a problem with Red," I said as he nodded and headed for my uncle.
J.C. stayed put and looked everywhere but at me. I decided that nothing interesting was going to happen, and if I was going to work ahead to be free to leave on Friday, then I needed to be up early in the morning. I said my goodbyes and headed home, daydreaming about Mexican senoritas.
Chapter 3
Maria
Saturday, January 28, 2012
I opened my eyes and looked at the light of my life -- brighter to me than the morning sunshine that streamed through my window. I reached out and tucked a stray piece of hair, not quite as curly as my own, behind my daughter's ear. She stirred, beginning to wake.
"Good morning, little one," I said quietly.
Even though Nadia didn't really qualify as a little one anymore, I still called her that, and we still slept together each night. I was every bit in love with her as I'd been when the nurse had put her in my arms thirteen years before.
"Buenos dias, Mama," she said, not even opening her eyes yet.
"English, sweetheart," I said, reminding her for the thousandth time.
She opened her eyes. "Mama, why do I have to speak English all the time?"
I'd answered the question many times before, but I did it again. "Your future will be far from here, Nadia. You will get a good job and move to the U.S. You will have a better life than I have had."
Nadia smiled at me. "Sister Theresa said that my math score on the last test was the highest in the class, and she also said that it won't be long before I'm looking at colleges."
"I'm so proud of you, Nadia. Let's get on up and get started on our work. We have to do laundry today. All of your uniforms need to be washed, and it's going to be sunny enough to hang them outside, rather than having to pay to use the dryer."
Though she was my precious, only daughter, she was still a teenaged girl, and Nadia rolled her eyes as I started talking about the chores that had to be done. "Can't we just go shopping?"
I shook my head. "I don't have the money for it right now, but I'm working tonight. Maybe after church tomorrow."
"Will you be home late?"
"Probably. I've asked Gabriela if you can spend the night with her."
Nadia got out of bed and stretched. "Can I at least eat dinner here? Gabriela is a terrible cook."
"Of course. I don't need to leave until seven. I'll fix you dinner before I go."
After breakfast of papaya and toast, Nadia and I collected all of our laundry and started the walk toward the closest laundromat. I loved my little apartment with the private courtyard, but there was no room for a washing machine, and I didn't have money for one, anyway. I kept hoping that I could save enough money to leave Juarez and take Nadia away from all the hopelessness I felt, but there was never quite enough money to do it. I suspected that Luis and his men made sure we had just enough to survive on. They didn't want women who were independent. They wanted women who did what they were told.
"So, Mama, Rosa Maria is going to the movies with Ramon next weekend. Her mother is letting her go, and I wondered if I could go, too?"
I felt panicked, just like I did every time Nadia wanted to get out and do the same things her schoolmates did. I saved every penny I could to send her to a good Catholic school, but that meant that her friends weren't as poor as we were. They had mothers who didn't have to work, and who certainly wouldn't have done the kind of work I did, even if times got tough. Nadia knew about our money problems, and she knew that I worked at Lupita's with Don Roberto's men, but she didn't know exactly what I did to keep food on the table -- at least, I hoped she didn't.
"We'll see, my love." I knew that some gringos were coming in, and I wondered if there would be a way to negotiate for a tip of some kind -- some money that I could hide from Luis and use to let Nadia go to the movies.
We were lucky when we got to the laundromat, and we managed to get three open washing machines. We put the laundry in and sat down to wait for the cycle to end, so that we could lug the heavy, wet clothes back home.
"Mama, why didn't you go to college?" Nadia asked me.
"My mama didn't have the money for it," I told her, leaving out the part about my running away after one of my mother's string of boyfriends had tried to climb in bed with me when I was fourteen.
"I wish she weren't dead," Nadia said, repeating the lie I'd told her. "It would be nice to know my grandmother."
"She would have loved you," I said, knowing the statement to be false.
Nadia pulled her book from her backpack, and I leaned back in the hard plastic chair, thinking of all the things I wanted to spare my daughter. My mother had been a drunk and had paraded a constant stream of "uncles" through my life. She'd sleep late, party all night, and most of the time, just left me to my own devices. Knowing that she didn't really care about me was bad enough, but when the last "uncle" had tried to force his hand underneath my nightgown, I'd had it. I'd waited until he and my mother passed out, and I'd packed a bag and never looked back.
We'd lived halfway between Chihuahua and Juarez, in a little town so small that it wasn't even on most maps I'd seen. I'd hitched a ride to Juarez, hoping that I could find a way to cross the border into the Promised Land to the north. Here I was, though, still in Juarez, a thirty-two-year-old single mother of a teenager. A whore. Owned by Don Roberto and his cartel.
The buzzing of the washers brought me back to the present, and Nadia and I piled the heavy clothes into our ba
skets. Once we got home, she handed me clothespins as we hung the clothes up to dry in the little courtyard, making the most of the surprisingly warm January day. When everything was hung up and we'd done some housework, I let Nadia run over to her girlfriend's house to hang out for a bit, while I cooked dinner and got ready for work.
I covered a ceramic dish that held fresh tamales and some leftover salsa verde and put it in the oven to warm. I stood in front of my closet and wondered what I should wear. It was my experience that men from the U.S. liked a traditional Mexican look, and even though I didn't exactly look the part, I decided to play to my customers a bit. I laid out a bright red peasant top -- one that was sheer and very low cut. The jeans I would wear hugged my curves, accentuating my ass in a way that I knew men liked. I picked out tiny, black panties and a black lace bra that I knew would be visible beneath the shirt, and I looked in the mirror, trying to decide if I needed to wash my hair before I went out. Finally decided that the crazy waves of my long, dark curly hair would never have time to dry, I decided to put my hair up and take a quick shower before Nadia was due home.
I was dressed in a clean white robe when Nadia and I sat down to dinner, and I listened to all of the gossip about the other girls in her school. I knew that she probably would have liked to go to a co-ed school, but I didn't want her to follow in my footsteps and end up pregnant before she finished high school.
"Will you be busy tonight, Mama?"
"I believe so. I think there are several big groups coming in, and Luis told me to expect to have to work late."
"I hope Gabriela will let me stay up late to watch TV," Nadia said, eyes shining with excitement. " American Idol is on tonight."
"I'm sure she'll let you," I assured her. "And you'll have to tell me what happens since I'll miss it." I looked at the clock. "Time for me to get ready, little one. You're sure you're okay walking to Gabriela's on your own?"
"Mama, it's only four houses down. I'll be fine," she said, in a classic, irritated teenaged girl tone.
