by Paige Notaro
How did you know who to trust though? It was all luck that I was sitting here. Good luck that Andre had been the kind of guy he looked like from a distance, but also bad luck that Teresa wasn’t even the person she pretended to be up close.
Eventually Dennis looked up and asked. "Why so blue? Missing something? Someone?”
"No," I said. "I just don't know what's wrong with me to be such a lost cause."
"Don't say that," Maria said.
"No, why not, let her say it." Dennis said. "She's in the right city."
"Juarez?" I peered down at it.
"This place used to be murder capital of the world. 3000 killed each year. Everyone who could, left. But the city lives on. Now it's only the fifth worst city in this hemisphere."
No wonder I had wound up in its midst. It didn't look so dangerous from up here, but I knew at least a bit of the darkness the place held.
"It's not just the city that’s hopeless," Dennis said. "It's us too.”
“Sorry, you are including me in this?” Maria huffed.
“Ok, well, not Maria here, but me and Andre for sure."
I took in the opulence of the penthouse again. "I don't think lost causes live in a place like this."
"Well, first of all this is 100% Andre's doing. It's his pad. And yeah, he's doing good now, but he didn’t shoot to be here, he just kind of stumbled into the gig. Only after that did he prove himself in that ring to earn the right to be put up here."
"And this one is even worse." Maria tugged at Dennis's ear. "He followed Andre here two years ago and he still relies on his brother and his girlfriend. Tell her, papi."
"Hey, come on. I'm trying to cheer the girl up not sell myself short." He rolled his eyes. "I run a tourism company for expats. It’s still growing."
"He's a pimp." Maria said.
"That is... not....mostly true," Dennis said. "Well, anyway, you'll see. Maria, come on let's go."
"Go?" I asked.
"You too, we're going to work."
Maria clacked the plates into the washer, grabbed her other bags and then we all took the elevator down. I felt totally underdressed in my cutoff jeans and t-shirt, but the second the doors opened to the hot lobby, I was grateful for it. The guard inside was reading, but I remembered Andre's advice and diverted my gaze even with my new look.
We came out on the street and I realized the lobby had just been warm up. The heat here nearly knocked my breath out and the light threatened to blind me. Voices and traffic squawked all around. I looked through my eyelashes at the swell of people just living out life. If this city was so dangerous, it didn’t show. Some people lazed in the heat and some hurried along but no one was peeking over their shoulder. Children in uniforms screamed and ran around chased by parents who seemed more annoyed than worried.
We took a taxi down the highway and then onto a smaller street packed with even more people. After a couple turns we got off.
"This is the Fronterizo," Maria said. "Most of the tourists from America cross over here. A lot of these people are your countrymen."
That explained all the English I heard. The Americans laughed easier and spoke more confidently than anyone else - even the women did. Did they know what could happen in this place? I’d only been away a month, but it was like looking at a different type of human.
We passed small restaurants and food stalls then entered a pub. “Welcome to St. Mary's," Maria said.
Cool air flooded over me and I sighed in relief. The dark wood paneling and shrouded lights made the place even more cozy. It was busy though, even this early in the day.
Maria got me a seat by the bar, and then went through the flapping door to the other side.
"You stay close ok, Blanca?" she said. "I'll keep the creeps away from you."
"Just tell them you know The Black Death," Dennis said. "They won’t really understand, but it usually does the trick."
"What about you?" I asked.
"I'm going to drum up business." He shifted down a few seats and started talking to a group of guys sitting in a huddle.
Maria got me a glass of light beer and I watched the two of them go about their day. Dennis worked one group at a time, causing roars of laughter then handing out cards and writing down information. He would pat a back and move on to the next group. I still didn’t quite get what he did, but he seemed to be good at it.
Maria’s job I knew. I’d even kinda thought about being a bartender at the restaurant I’d worked in, but that hadn’t been more than a dream before Teresa seduced me south. This early in the day, people just seemed happy to be drinking at all, so she mostly just poured simple drinks and took money. She came over to talk often and happily she did most of it. I slowly learned just how much family she had in this city. It seemed to be more than the total amount of people I had ever known.
When she wasn't around I just sipped at beer and absorbed all the conversation around me. It was almost like being back in New York. I’d lived there four months though, and I’d never felt as comfortable as I did now. This was what I had in mind when Teresa had brought me down. I guess she’d been right that it existed after all. It just took a while to find it.
A couple of guys sat next to me, but I couldn't understand them. Maria said a couple words and they ran off.
"What did you say?" I asked.
"I told them you are a Cartel woman." She shrugged. "It's kinda true."
They took me out to lunch at one of the holes in the wall we had passed. The food wasn’t any different from the sad lonely places that Mr. Tarly took me to, but the atmosphere couldn’t be more upside down. People were here not just to eat but to enjoy a meal. I tried to get the cheapest thing possible, but Maria forced an order for the steak rancheros out of me. That was the actual name for the meal that Mr. Tarly had tried to buy me off with. It tasted a thousand times better without him around.
Dennis told me more about his company. He was basically paid to market existing attractions. He negotiated with the places for a cut and then went out and tried to convince people to go there.
"What made you decide to come here?" I asked. “Did you know how bad this place was then?”
"Oh yeah, but I knew I could find a way to make it. Besides, Andre was here. After mom died, he’s the only family I had."
Now I knew why Andre felt how he did about his mother passing. He hadn’t been around when it happened.
"Why was he here already?" I asked.
Dennis gritted his teeth. "That’s something you’ll have to ask him yourself."
We got back to the bar and I felt settled in enough. I wanted to feel useful – at the very least pay back for lunch. I asked Maria if I could help at the counter, but the drink orders were picking up and she promised she'd teach me later.
"You should just relax today," she said. "Drink. It's on Andre anyway."
"I'm not exactly legal yet."
She scanned my face. "No? How old are you?"
The question made me feel vastly more immature than her. "Uh, 19."
“Well I have good news. Here you are legal for everything. Not that legality matters much to begin with."
I was about to refuse, but then I remembered what had happened the last time I drank. This shouldn’t be about the alcohol. It was a chance to take the experience back from Teresa.
"Ok," I said. "Get some tequila."
She got me a shot. The liquid sat as clear as water. I held it to my nose and it didn't even smell that strong – nothing like that noxious bottle I’d drank from. I tossed it down, gagged and drank a half pint of water. Maria was ignoring customers and laughing her butt off at me.
"Ya niña," she said. "Feeling good yet?"
The alcohol dropped a cloud over my eyes. I stayed awake this time, but the conversations around me seemed happier and friendlier.
"Another?"
I nodded and she poured a shot from a different bottle. I raised the glass to my lips, tipped it in and then spat it out. My mouth burned an
d my tongue wanted to crawl down my throat. Everyone around me was laughing now.
"What?" I frowned at Maria for maybe the first time.
"Tesol," she said wiping her face. "It is the local take on Tequila. More alcohol, less sweet. Appropriate, I think."
I held my nose and finished what was left. Maria took a shot herself and clinked the empty shot glass against mine.
"Welcome to Juarez."
The day blurred past after that. The stars were out when my mind came back to my body. I found us all lounging back in Andre's penthouse watching a teledrama on TV. My stomach was full of food, but it felt sour and Dennis kept pushing a pitcher of water at me. The door chimed and Andre came down the halls. He had on a drenched white tee-shirt and an exhausted look, but his lip twinged up at the sight of us.
"You guys look beat up."
I started to laugh at that. Getting beat up was his job. My head felt dizzy, but I was glad he was back. His voice sank down into me, and I remembered how powerful it had felt right up close. "Come sit," I said, tapping the open seat with my foot.
"You'll want me to shower first," he said. "Trust me."
He went off down to the bedrooms. "Well, that's our cue," Dennis said, rising with a groan. Maria came over, ruffled my hair, and the two of them headed for the elevator.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"My place," Maria said. "Don't worry, we'll pick you up in the morning."
I lay back down. I had plans. It was crazy. Just a day ago, I’d been a hopeless mess and already I had a future to look forward to.
Eventually Andre came back in a fresh white shirt and gyms shorts and sat on the other end of the couch. I wanted to ask why he sat far away but the alcohol was leaving and so was my boldness. A cloud of steam and pine fragrance wafted from him to me, and I made do with just savoring the scent.
He asked about our day and I told him about the antics.
“I’m glad someone’s out having fun.”
“Were you really practicing the whole day?” I asked.
“Yeah, there’s nothing else to do during the day usually, and I didn’t want to break my habits. Dennis was right, no need to telegraph my mood to the Cartel by acting weird.”
I shifted nervously. “You’re still angry?”
“I’m always angry,” he grinned. “Plenty to be angry about in my shoes. But am I still thinking about revenge? No. No I’m not.”
He gave me a questioning look as if seeing if I was ok with that. “I’m glad,” I said. “I don’t want you getting hurt over me.”
“It wouldn’t have been exactly over you. It’d be to-“He rubbed his forehead. “It’d be to be angry for its own sake. A stupid pointless rebellion. Anyway, it’s not important anymore.”
We watched quietly though I had a ton of questions tumbling through me. What did he have to be so angry about? Why was he fighting to entertain people he didn’t like? What had he been before this? My drunken haze was fading fast and leaving me more nervous than ever. I really didn’t know this guy at all. I shouldn’t just sink into this life – no matter how comfortable it seemed.
Andre cleared his throat, and my thoughts flapped away.
"They'll keep you in that bar all day," he said. "Let me see if I can fix that tomorrow."
He wanted to arrange something for me? Somehow that eased my mind. I would see how this played out. I was in the city now; I could always run if things didn’t feel right.
We watched a show about food in South America silently, and then Andre rose and said he was headed to bed. He paused like he had more to add, but all he said was. "I'm just happy you’re feeling better here." He flashed a wide grin and walked right past me.
I turned in soon after. As I drifted off, I thought of what Andre had said about fixing the bar situation. The promise beckoned me quickly towards sleep. Maybe tomorrow I’d find out exactly what kind of man had saved me.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Georgia
I bolted up the next morning, but only Maria was waiting out for me in the kitchen.
"What’s up?” she asked as I looked around.
"Andre's not here?"
"No, he's at the gym like always." She raised an eyebrow. "Did you want something from him?"
“No…” I probably didn’t hide my disappointment too well. What I couldn’t tell though was whether it was disappointment at not learning about Andre or finding out that he didn’t want to spend time with me after all. Even as I fought it, I was falling into the same patterns – it felt like I belonged to him in some way, just as I’d belonged to Mr. Tarly and Father before. I’d need to try harder.
"It's nothing," I said to Maria. "What's the plan for today?"
"Well, since it is day time, the plan is for me to go and work. I think you wish to join me again? If your head is feeling right, of course."
She smiled and one rose to my lips as I remembered how great yesterday had been. My head felt totally clear. Count that as a victory against tequila.
We took a cab to the bar. Already I could mark out the streets and shops and almost all of the restaurants. New York - with its stacks of stores - had seem impossible to keep track off even after many months, but the small bustling streets here were just the right level of chaos for my brain. I read some of the store names out loud and Maria corrected my pronunciation and translated for me. I must seem like an idiot but she didn’t seem to mind.
We resumed our post at the bar, her working, me watching. She found me a kid’s Spanish book and I pored over it while sipping on a sweet milky drink called Horchata. “A white drink for my white girl,” Maria had said warmly as she slid it over.
"Even the non-alcoholic drinks here are amazing," I said.
"It is a very American version.”
"Speaking of Americans," I said. "Where's Dennis?"
"Some business or another," she said "It's better not to ask, as long as he comes home at night."
I couldn’t understand that. If I had someone, I would want to know what was happening with them – at least to make sure they were always safe. Even if it was someone strong like Andre.
I was about to tell her, but then I realized that it didn’t sound quite right.
I studied and mumbled vocabulary until my head rolled with r's. Maria didn’t have much time today between pouring beers, mixing drinks and wiping glasses. She had a couple helpers but they both looked swarmed. I wasn't sapping her time, but I felt like I could do more. I knew enough to bus tables and clean some glasses at least. I told Maria. She refused at first, but even I could see it wasn't genuine.
So I got an apron and started taking orders and empty glasses. The work was easier than I’d imagined watching it happen back in New York. People were less stressed here, maybe cause they knew things were going good if they were still breathing and drinking.
I dropped into a rhythm: loading, unloading with a smile, and then returning with new requests as Maria beamed at me. Vaguely I wondered if this was just another expression of my desire to serve, but at least this time I could see it helping people. It also happened to make me feel a bit less awful about all of Maria’s generosity.
Most of the guests were American here but I hated having to tell the Mexican ones I couldn’t speak their country’s language. Maria helped me work up a small script that I could repeat mindlessly.
I'd been running it for nearly an hour when I walked up to a table like any other and read from my pad. "Buenos dias. ¿Qué desea tomar?"
"Actually I'm hungry," the customer said.
It was nearly noon. I should have expected this. "Sure, just let me go check on the lunch menu."
"I’d rather go out. If you don't have something else on your mind."
I looked up and saw Andre perched on a stool, looking amused. He had on a plain grey tee today, and track pants, but his muscles threatened to burst out of both, dark and velvety where I could see skin.
"Oh, Andre. Sorry," I said, hoping the giddiness wasn’t le
aking out of me.
"Don't be. You were in the zone. I know how that goes."
"You finished practicing?"
"More like cut it short. It's alright though. All I got for competition around here are chumps. And a promise is a promise. Let's get out of here." He started to rise. "Unless, of course, you're busy."
"Let me check."
I went back to Maria, but she wouldn't even let me speak before ripping the apron off my waist. "Go," she said.
I followed Andre out. The city glowed white hot and I didn’t try to look much further than the massive shadow at my side. Andre asked if I knew what I wanted. I pointed at a food cart dishing up tacos, but Andre peered in at the meat and led us away.
"You like steak?" he asked.
"I think so. Do you?"
"It's exactly what I need after a workout."
He let me move ahead of him, as if I were the one in charge. I could sense him at my back though, a wall shielding me where I couldn't see. Even within the noise of the foot traffic and the sounds from the storefronts we passed, I could pick out his footfalls loud and sturdy. After a couple blocks, he touched my shoulder gently and nudged me toward a door.
The place had cloth sheets but other than that wasn't especially fancy. Roast meat filled the air and made my mouth water. We ordered a couple plates of Steako Ranchero – easily my favorite dish now - and then we were left alone in a corner table.
"I hope you been doing ok," Andre said. "Sorry If I've been a bit cold. I just didn't want to weigh on you. "
"You're not cold," I said. "Besides, I owe you everything. How can you think you weigh on me?"
"I'm still employed by the kind of people who do business with that slimebag who bought you."
"But you don't do what they do right?" I hoped that much, at least, was true.
