Arizona Allspice

by Lewin, Renee

  “Um, I guess that’s me,” I murmured. My teacher Mrs. Warson nodded. I shoved my things into my backpack and left the room, almost slipping on my pen on the ground, and went down the hallway in the direction of Manny’s class. As I neared the door, Manny came walking out with his backpack dragging along the ground. His worried brown eyes were a mirror image of mine. We proceeded to the other side of the school and to the principal’s office. Principal Wright, an unfortunate pot-bellied man who was probably colorblind because he wore lime green ties with burgundy shirts, was standing behind his desk. He scratched at his chins.

  “Your father called. I think its best you guys get home as fast as you can. It sounded like an emergency.”

  “What happened?” Emanuel asked.

  Principal Wright shrugged and shook his head, blinking. “He just said they took her away, they took her. He kept repeating that.”

  My stomach was in knots but it didn’t slow my pace. Manny and I raced to his truck in the student parking lot and sped to Merjoy. “It’s Mom, isn’t it?” I asked during the ride.

  “Let’s pray, okay?” Manny suggested.

  So I bowed my head. I said my ‘Amen’ just as we pulled up to the house. My dad was pacing the living room and wringing the hem of his shirt. “Elaine! Manny! You’re okay! Oh man, They took her!” He ran to me and grabbed me by my black jean vest. He searched my eyes as if not sure I was really his daughter. “Did They talk to you?”

  Manny and I were in such shock over our father’s behavior that neither of us made a move to get his hands off of me.

  “I said did They talk to you? Did They brief you!” Afraid, I could only shake my head. He calmed and his grip loosened. “Okay. I figure they would try to coerce my baby girl but you stayed strong. I have to stay one step ahead. One step ahead.”

  “Dad?” Manny finally spoke. “Let go of Elaine now.”

  “Oh,” he removed his hands, “There you are, Sweetie. All better.”

  “Where’s Mom?” Manny asked.

  I tensed as Dad neared me again. This time he put his arm around both of us and wept. “She collapsed and the EMT impersonators took her away! I didn’t go with her because I knew what they wanted to do to me and I was afraid they came and took you guys too. I had to stay to make sure you guys were safe.”

  The silence as Manny drove was crushing. The quiet gave me too much opportunity to think the worst.

  My mother always made sure the whole family ate dinner together. She cooked the best dinners and she always baked the gooiest desserts. It’s a wonder our family wasn’t all overweight. I guess since the whole family helped out in keeping the trailer park clean and in working order we burned those calories off. Over dinner, Mom would get us to talk about our day, Dad talking about work and Manny and I talking about school. She would always crack jokes to make us laugh if we had a bad day.

  “Don’t worry about Mrs. Warson,” she would smile. “She’s just grumpy because she’s getting up there in years. If she says something rude in class, just smile politely at her. Show her the teeth she wishes she still had.”

  Every night, without fail, Dad would bring up one of his conspiracy theories. Things like UFOs and the Bermuda Triangle. “You heard about the government’s Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment back in 1930 and up until the seventies, right? Well, I know for a fact the government is conducting its own experimental testing of viruses and bacteria on hospital patients who are under anesthesia, all to develop methods of biological warfare. It’s happening here in the present and they’re not just testing things on black people now. Anyone’s fair game.”

  My mom, my brother and I, would groan or joke that his obsession with conspiracies had come from living too long in a trailer park. Sometimes he would get fervent about the conspiracies or really irritated that we didn’t take him seriously. My mom would then say that he’d better go take his blood pressure medicine and calm down. He’d saunter into the bathroom to take the pills he kept in the cabinet. I later found out those pills weren’t for his high blood pressure. They were for his sickness, the delusions and suspicions that were plaguing him. My mother knew all along.

  For the first time in my life, when I witnessed Dad’s behavior after Mom was rushed to the hospital, I’d seen my dad for who he really was. I, who believed so strongly in not being superficial, saw that my life, my family, had been a sham.

  What happened to Mom?

  Did Dad hurt her?

  What do we have now? Who do we have now?

  I asked myself those questions as we drove to Duncan, our neighboring city, where my mother was taken. We ran into the hospital. We’d been running for hours, it seemed. We reached the hallway adjacent to the emergency room.

  “Mama?” I whispered. I latched on to my brother’s arm. I could hear my pulse in my ears as my mother was swarmed by nurses and doctors.

  “Are you her family members?” A doctor asked. “We’re going to have to take her into surgery,” the doctor continued. “She’s had a heart attack and the EBCT scan showed a very blocked artery. She’s probably had heart disease for some time now. We’re going to do the best we can to stent that artery before the damage to the heart muscle is irreparable.”

  I watched as the quiet shell of my mother was wheeled away, her body snaked with tubes from her arms, her chest, her mouth and nose. Manny and I only got a chance to brush a hand along her arm as she was whisked past. I felt something I didn’t think I’d feel: anger. My brother and I didn’t deserve this. My father was not my father. He was a stranger to me. My mother had lied to us and now at the age of 41 she could die and leave me with no answers, when I needed her the most, to see me off to college, to make us dinner and to love us, to help me when I get married and have children, to cheer us up when we were down, when I was falling. I was falling and darkness fell over the hospital room.

  When I woke up I was sitting in the hallway on the cold tile floor of the hospital, my back leaning against Manny and his arms around me. When I turned to look at him, he began to sob. “Don’t ever faint on me like that again! I can’t lose you too,” he sniffled. “She’s gone, Elaine.” When I heard him say those words I couldn’t cry. I hated myself for ever being angry with my mother in her last moments. I didn’t deserve to let any of the pain go by allowing myself to shed any tears.

  Marna Elaine Roberts

  A Mother, a Wife, an Angel

  November 9, 1967 - June 3, 2010

  Manny and I never discussed it; the falsehood of our family. We both knew our mom was dead and our dad was schizophrenic and neither one of us would be leaving Cadence, Arizona to go to college. We needed to stick together and take care of our father.

  Our school allowed us to graduate, thanks to Raul who volunteered to bring me my work as well as Manny’s. He even watched our dad for a few hours while we took final exams. Like I said, Raul had been very helpful. I didn’t understand Manny’s problem with him. He never really accepted or understood my relationship with Raul. Neither did his over-opinionated friend Joey Kinsley.

  Manny and I had known Joey since high school, but neither of us were friends with him, until five or six months ago when the two started working together at the PiCo Automotive Factory. I wasn’t friends with Joey, but I knew him. Everyone knew Joey. With his soccer skills, his lady-killer reputation, and his infamous bouts of rage with the fiery red hair and steel blue eyes to match, how could he go unnoticed? It was obvious why Joey didn’t like Raul. Everyone in town knew Raul, too, so he was Joey’s competition for the limelight.

  I could smell Joey’s desperation from a mile away. The way he pined for me to adore him like every other girl in town did. It disgusted me that he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that I didn’t want to be in his entourage. I couldn’t even understand why Manny was friends with Joey. All they did was bicker with each other anyway.

  THREE

  “You still like that girl?”

  “Joey, you know how I am about Denise,” I answered.
“It’s been four years and I haven’t given up on her. I just need to get her to open up her mind and forget about what her Dad thinks.” I pulled off my gloves. “I know she’s just scared.”

  Joey pulled off his gloves and safety goggles and we started walking to the locker room. We both shoved our gloves and goggles into the back pockets of our dirty blue jumpsuits. At the sinks, we lathered and scrubbed at our fingers in unison and then splashed water onto our faces, rinsing the sweat and smudges away. “I think you should move on,” Joey said while toweling his hands and face.

  “Are you kidding?” I explained how it was impossible to just ‘move on’ without getting some kind of closure on the history Denise and I shared. We walked to our side-by-side lockers, stripped off our work jumpsuits and began changing into clean clothes. “You understand what I mean?” I finished my speech as I slipped my arms into my shirt. “Don’t you?” I asked when Joey didn’t answer. I looked up to see that Joey hadn’t been listening to me. Apparently he was more interested in his own handsome face.

  ******

  I glanced into the mirror that hung in my locker. I smoothed a hand over my hair, the tips of my fingers running over the florid, medium length curls. I looked into my own blue eyes and then down at my nose. I had faint freckles there. I looked at his shoulders in the mirror where my tendency to freckle was quite visible. The freckles across my nose and cheeks didn’t bother me as much. And my lips…I didn’t feel like they fit the masculine features of my face, my strong chin and nose. Maybe if my lips weren’t so pink and didn’t have so much of a Cupid’s Bow then maybe she’d… I swiped the back of my hand across my mouth…

  ******

  “Hey! Cabrón! Stop admiring yourself already so I can have a two-sided conversation here.”

  “Sorry.” Joey snapped out of the spell and pulled a white t-shirt over his head. “Yeah, I think you should move on. It’s been a while and Denise’s dad isn’t going to suddenly not be a racist drunk.”

  “But, sometimes Denise says things that make me certain she wants me to be there for her.”

  “She just says stuff, you know, because she knows you like her. Denise is going through some mess with her dad right now so she might say things to you just because she feels lonely at the time.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “And how do you know all that?”

  Joey averted his gaze down to the belt he was looping through his jeans. “I’ve heard some things around the neighborhood, that’s all.”

  “Besides,” I noted as I finished buttoning up my shirt, “isn’t it hypocritical of you to tell me to move on? You’ve been a secret admirer for just as long. At least I’ve given it a chance by telling Denise how I feel.”

  “Yeah, and neither of us have what we want, do we?” Joey slammed his locker closed. I followed behind him, heading out of the locker room and out the door into the parking lot. “Manny, why don’t you spend some time on getting your sister out of that house with your abusive lunatic father instead of trollin’ for ass!”

  “I really care about Denise but there is no way in hell I care about her more than my sister! You…you are a hurtful angry bastard sometimes, you know that? This is exactly why Laney doesn’t want me hangin’ out with you! You shoot off at the mouth! You’ve got no self control!”

  Joey winced. “I’m working on it, okay! I’m working on it! Just…” He shook his head with his eyes clenched shut. He took several slow deep breaths to calm down. When he felt the heat at his neck and face dissipate, he blinked his eyes open. “I don’t want to be like this all the time, Manny. You know I don’t want to.”

  “Yes. And you know how it is trying to keep what’s left of my family together and that I’m working on it.”

  “I’m sorry, man. I get worried about her sometimes.”

  “Apology accepted Superman. Always trying to save the damsels in distress. Now let’s go pick up some drinks and chill at your house. I got a present for you.”

  Joey smiled. “Another story?”

  “Yup, another one. She lent it to me this morning. It’s in the truck.”

  Joey jogged over to my black F-150. I routinely gave Joey a ride to and from work. Joey was hired at the factory six months earlier. His temper, however, made it difficult for him to be placed within the company so he was tossed from one department to another like a problem foster child. Everyone could see Joey was bright because he could learn everything so fast. It took him two days to understand the assembly line while it took other employees at least a week of training. His various supervisors were ecstatic with his progress and then baffled by the anger he spewed when he made an inconsequential mistake.

  One day, Joey had an exceptionally bad fit that resulted in PiCo docking most of his paycheck as reimbursement for the automotive parts he had attacked with a blowtorch. Joey struck up an initially awkward conversation with me which became a fifteen-minute long confessional. That day we formulated a plan. My end of the deal was to use my supervisor position to get him another job. Joey’s end of the deal would be invaluable to both Elaine and I if it succeeded, and it could only work if Elaine knew nothing about it.

  I stepped up into the truck to find Joey searching all over for the journal. “In the glove box.” Joey quickly opened the glove compartment and pulled out the brown leather-bound journal. He flipped through the pages to the most recent entry. A little smile crossed Joey’s face as his eyes scanned the page. It was a quiet ride since Joey was enthralled with the journal. Sometimes I wondered how Joey and I were able to be friends. I was a reserved math nerd and Joey was a jock and very high strung. We argued. A lot. But I supposed we balanced each other out in the end. Plus, I was enjoying the planning and conspiring, and secret trafficking of Elaine’s journal. It was fun. And it was for a good cause.

  I pulled up to the convenience store. I didn’t need to ask whether Joey was going to come with him. I left him to read in the truck and walked into the store that was located next to the local bar. I waved at Mr. Jeremy, the owner, and then went to the refrigerated section. Looking through the frosty glass door, my eyes fell on a case of beer I wanted. I heard the chime of the bell above the front door. I thought it was Joey walking in but instead I glimpsed Raul and his soccer crew entering. Raul sauntered straight to the deli and dining area along with his buddies.

  I opened the walk-in refrigerator and grabbed the case of beer. As soon as I stepped back out I could hear their loud laughter. I stood in the aisle holding the case as Raul’s voice cut though me like a knife.

  “Elaine? Yeah I’ve known her for years. She acts tough but she ain’t. Ella es una facilona, really.”

  All his buddies laughed. “I figured she was easy. They usually are, those negritas,” one of them said.

  “Yeah, she’s real, um, generous to me, know what I mean?” Raul laughed. “She let me have her all kind of ways.” Raul’s boys laughed, whistled, or pounded on the tables. “I’m talkin’ to Marisol now, too, and a couple other chicitas and she know about all of them. But you guys don’t be trying to hit on my girl. Seriously, if you talk to her I’ll break you in two.”

  I was so angry I couldn’t speak. Raul cared about Elaine. That’s what was so frustrating. He lit up when he was around her. Then Raul would do these things and say these things that just went completely against that. It infuriated me! There was nothing I could do about Raul sleeping around because Laney was strangely nonchalant about that, but if I told Elaine about this…She’d better listen.

  For a tense moment I wished I could conjure fury the way Joey did. Or at least have the muscle. If I kicked Raul’s teeth in, however, Elaine would be extremely upset. I could just hear her say “You have to be the good guy, Manny. Don’t be like the others.” I walked up to Mr. Jeremy at the counter to pay for the beer.

  “You know, I don’t sell beer to those guys over there,” Jeremy said pointing his chin towards where the Tormentas were sitting. “They can git it somewhere else. I only sell it to the responsible ki
ds. You alright. Takin’ care of your family, thas good.”

  I nodded, knowing that Mr. Jeremy felt sorry for me; Deceased mother, ill father, stuck here in thirsty Cadence. But most of all, Mr. Jeremy wanted to buy the trailer park from my family. I looked over and got a clear view of Raul laughing with his boys.

  Raul’s smiling eyes slid away from his friends to see me standing at the counter. The filthy smirk fell from his face. I could see the thoughts going through Raul’s head, wondering if I’d heard him earlier. I glared at him and nodded. Once Raul realized he’d been exposed, the corner of his top lip curled in anger. If he thought a menacing look with a silent threat was going to keep me quiet he was wrong.

  “Guess who I saw in the convenience store.”