by Horst, John
“What’s this, Juana?”
“A new girl. Maria. She needs help down there. Sanchez got her and made her sore.”
“Oh.” The whore lit a cigar and regarded the little girl. The child was a beauty and the whore’s face reflected a deep twinge of regret. She reached down and patted Maria on the head, then took her by the hand. “Come with me, Maria. I’ll help you.”
She took her into another red room with a sagging bed that was pushed against the wall. It stank of sweat and dirty bodies and things that Maria had never smelled before. The woman told her to lie back on the bed and Maria complied. She handed Maria an ointment and told her what to do. She left the room so that she was alone.
Maria did as she was told and immediately felt better. She was not certain what to do and stayed in the room. She rested on the soft bed. The pillow was nice. She’d never felt such a thing in her life, it was the first bed she’d ever lain in.
She thought about the mean man from the village. He called her a whore’s spawn. She now knew what a whore was and what a whore did, but she did not know what it meant to be a spawn. She considered it. She’d only ever known the old woman and knew well enough that the old woman was not her mother. The old woman had always made that clear to Maria, and she’d never thought much about her mother. Perhaps her mother was here. Her mother was a whore, according to the mean man. Maybe the woman with the yellow hair was her mother. Probably not. She soon fell into a deep sleep.
She awoke to find food next to her bed. Juana was sitting nearby, puffing on a cigarette. “Feeling better?”
“Yes.” She looked around and then heard a party outside the room.
“Go ahead and eat, but hurry. We’ve got to get out of this room. It’s needed.”
She complied and ate and enjoyed the food. She could not understand why they were all so good to her. She regarded Juana and regretted hitting her earlier in the day. She spoke without thinking. “I’m sorry for making you bleed, Juana.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” She smiled at her. Juana had a pretty round face. “I deserved it. I shouldn’t have been so cross with you.” She brightened. “Let’s go get your things.”
“How?” She was confused. She didn’t even know where her things were. If they were in Sanchez’s shop, it would not be possible to get them. She needed to urinate again and asked Juana where to go. She handed Maria a chamber pot and turned her back. She understood her new friend required privacy.
Maria urinated and it didn’t hurt anymore.
“That medicine is a dream.”
“The whores know.” She grinned. “They always know and they are good. You’ll never go hungry when there are whores, Maria. That’s why I’m so fat.” She grinned.
They left and wandered through town. It was getting busy because some men had come in from a mine and were letting off steam. Maria saw the rurale from the other day but he paid her no mind, as he did not remember her. She got Juana’s attention and pointed him out. “Who is he?”
“Pedro, the rurale. He’s a real pendejo.”
“What’s that?”
“Oh, Maria.” Juana bobbed her head from side to side. “You are the most ignorant bumpkin I’ve ever known. I’ll tell you all the words, but later.”
They were interrupted by some excitement. A little man had been drinking with some friends and now they were humiliating him. They all took turns holding his head as the man swiped at them, flailing about and falling to the ground. One man became angry at him and began kicking him. The little man became enraged. He screamed at the top of his lungs and the bully laughed at him. The bully spat on the little man and then pinned him to the ground. He ground his face into a pile of horse manure and told the man to go sleep it off.
Maria watched the little man. He was not unlike her, except that he was drunk and to an extent asking for it, but there was no call for pushing him into feces or spitting on him. There was nothing he could do because he was so small.
This is what Maria was thinking about her own situation. There was nothing she could do but take it. Take it and be quiet because the more the little man squawked, the more the bully man mistreated him.
Finally, mercifully, the bully became tired and relented. He was becoming a little embarrassed in front of his friends. They all knew the little man well enough, knew that when he got drunk it was best to just leave him alone. He’d be better when he’d sobered up. He never really caused any harm.
Juana wanted to move on, but Maria wanted to see how this little drama played out. She watched the little man. No one seemed to notice him, only Maria, as they were all too busy with other things. She watched as the man brushed himself off, rubbed the feces from his ear and cheek, then walked away to his mount, still saddled in front of the biggest saloon. He pulled something from the saddle and walked up to the bully man, got his attention and, when the bully man turned, the little one shot him through the head. The bully man was dead.
This is what Maria wanted to see. It was possible. She needed only to learn how.
“Come on, there’ll be trouble when Pedro, the pendejo gets here. He always makes trouble.”
Juana grabbed Maria by the hand and pulled her down the street. Soon they were at Sanchez’s store. It looked different to Maria now, all dark, and the outside did not look so nice. She noticed that the building was not painted and bare wood showed through, two steps were broken and one looked rotten. She looked at Juana.
“What are we doing here?”
“Getting your things.”
Maria recoiled. “We can’t.”
Juana grinned and tipped her head, “Come on, I’ll show you.”
They walked to the back of the place and Juana deftly dropped down to a place beside the rear steps. She slid her body under the stairs until Maria could no longer see her and now Maria was alone, waiting for the mean rurale to show up. Suddenly the back door opened and Juana was standing there with a big grin on her face. “Come on, Maria, hurry.” She whispered in a low hiss as she looked about.
“How did you do that?”
“There’s a trapdoor. I learned about it a while ago. I come in here sometimes in the middle of the night to get candy. He never misses it.”
They were inside and Maria remembered the good smells. She looked over at the desk, the last place she remembered being during her time in the store. Juana casually walked about and grabbed some pretty candy sticks for them both. They began eating.
Juana smiled. “The asshole’s missing, you know.”
“I know.”
Juana looked at her sideways. “How do you know, you’ve only just got into town?”
“I know where he is.” Maria suddenly wanted to tell her new friend everything. Juana sat down and opened two bottles of beer for them. They drank and Maria liked the beer. She’d never had it and it made her feel a little dreamy.
Juana grabbed some cigars and lit two. Now she was drinking beer, eating candy and smoking. She looked very funny to Maria who smiled for the first time.
“He tried to catch me on fire out in the desert and I hit him with a rock and he caught himself on fire. Now he’s dead.”
“Really?” Juana grinned. “A rock?”
“Sure.” Maria tried the cigar and liked it. She blew smoke at Juana’s smoke. “I’m good at rock throwing. I can kill a rabbit from all the way over there.” She pointed to the far end of the room.
Juana picked up a fancy glass paperweight from Sanchez’s desk and handed it to Maria. She didn’t doubt the child, but she wanted to see what Maria could do. “Hit that hat over there.”
Maria threw and easily knocked the hat down.
“Ay, chingao, you are good.”
Maria smoked and finished her beer. She was getting sleepy. She looked around a little nervously. “Should we leave?”
“No, let’s just stay here tonight. Sanchez, I heard from the whores, didn’t have family nearby. The rurale captain’s been notified and the pendejo, Pedro, is guarding i
t. No one will come in here. He’s too lazy to do anything but check the doors, and they’re locked.
She began wandering around the place and soon found a box with Maria’s stuff. She showed her new friend and it pleased Juana to make Maria happy. She looked at the items doubtfully. She picked up the mirror, then the brush. “This stuff’s junk.”
Maria looked hurt and Juana regretted her comment. “Why not take some new ones?”
Maria considered the girl’s suggestion. She looked around. She’d not thought about it until now.
“The son of a bitch owes it to you, Maria. He took away,” she pointed at Maria’s midsection, “you know, that.”
“We should take the money, too.” Maria was emboldened by Juana’s comment.
“You’re right.” Juana searched and found a money box. She handed it over to Maria.
“You take half, Juana.”
“No, it’s yours. The dirty devil owes you.” She looked around. “We should get new clothes.”
“Someone’ll see us with them, that’ll never do.” Maria thought about the pretty dress she wore briefly. It looked and felt nice on her.
Juana suddenly had an epiphany. “Let’s take it all.” She smiled at Maria.
“How?”
“Sanchez has a wagon. His horse and wagon showed up this morning. The wagon’s outside and the horse is at the stable, where we met.”
Maria considered it. Her mind raced. If they took everything from the store, certainly it wouldn’t all fit in one wagon, and it would take all night to do this.
“We’ll be caught and what do we do with a wagon full of stolen things anyway?”
“No, no, Maria.” Juana put up a hand. “That man who got killed, that’ll keep pendejo Pedro busy most of the night. No one’ll be around here until morning. We can take the stuff that we want, stuff we can easily sell. I know of a man by the sea. He is a fencer.”
“A what?”
Juana smiled at Maria’s continued ignorance. “A fencer. He buys things, no questions asked. He’ll buy our things. We’ll be rich.”
Maria was beginning to sober up from the beer and now she had a headache. She looked at Juana and then all around at the store. “Okay.”
By sunrise they were plodding west. Just as Juana thought, no one caught them; no one even came down the street while they were cleaning Sanchez out. By midmorning she’d counted all the money. They had nearly three hundred pesos. They also had three outfits each, two hats each, five shotguns, six rifles and half a dozen six shooters. They had many boxes of ammunition. They had ten dozen bottles of beer, five cases of whiskey and ten boxes of cigars.
This was all Juana’s idea. She had considered very carefully what the men liked most at the whore house, other than the whores, and it was always whiskey, beer, cigars and guns. She was certain the fence would pay them well.
Maria regarded the horse. He was a fine animal and she’d regret giving him up. She loved horses though she’d never known or even ridden one. He was a nice horse and Maria had a way with him as she had with all animals. Goats, sheep, dogs and cats always loved Maria. Now she could add horses to the list of animals she could control, mesmerize, and she didn’t know why. She was just good with animals.
They had candy and beer for breakfast and afterward smoked a couple of cigars. It was getting hot and they put their new hats on. Maria was now having a little fun, driving the wagon as Juana fiddled with their treasure.
In short order, she emerged with a six shooter and began looking through the boxes of cartridges to find a match. She finally found the right ones and loaded the gun.
“Do you know how to shoot?” Maria looked on as Juana pointed the gun at her own belly. Maria turned the muzzle away.
“Sure. You just pull on this.” She pointed to the trigger and suddenly blew a hole through the carriage floor between their feet. “Oops.”
“Juana. You’re going to kill us.” Maria stopped the wagon and got down. She took the gun from Juana and remembered the little man shooting the bully through the head. She gripped the gun. It felt right. She turned away from Juana and the wagon and spotted a rock on the ground. She pointed and fired, shattering the rock and throwing pieces of it into the air.
“Ay chingao. You are good!”
Maria tried again and repeated her performance. “You did this before.”
“Never.” Maria was proud. “Here, you try.”
She helped Juana and the child fired, actually missing the ground in front of them. They looked at each other and shrugged. They got back in the wagon and rode on.
Maria handed Juana the gun but she pushed it back. “You take it, carry it, we might get robbed.” She laughed. “Robbers getting robbed.”
“Are there bandits around here?” Maria scanned the horizon around them, doubtfully.
“Maria, there are always bandits around here. Everywhere. This is a poor country and bandits are all over.”
They would not reach the man who’d buy their goods for at least another two days and they decided to camp. Maria took them off the road for a good distance and drove into an arroyo. They’d not be seen now and they settled in for the night. They decided to eat better and left the candy and beer alone. They found canned peaches amongst their booty and had them with a chicken and rabbit Maria killed with one of the rifles. She liked shooting the rifle better than the six shooter. It was great sport.
Juana looked up at the sky and then into the little fire Maria had made with her flint and steel. Maria did not think to use the box of matches as she’d only ever used the flint and steel. No one in their little village was rich enough to own matches. Maria and the old woman were even too poor to have their own flint and steel, they just kept a fire going all the time. The nice woman with the mean man used to loan them the flint and steel if they let the fire go out.
“What are we going to do with the money we get from the fencer?”
Maria considered this as she stared into the fire. She hadn’t thought about it. “What do you think we should do?”
“Let’s start our own whorehouse.”
Maria thought about that. She didn’t want to have a whorehouse. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, in her heart, in the pit of her stomach, she knew she didn’t want to have a whorehouse.
“No. I don’t want that. No.”
Juana shrugged. “Okay. What then?”
“How about goats?”
“Goats?”
“I’ve kept goats. I know them. We could have goats. We could buy some and breed them. Soon we’d have many and then we’d sell them. We could sell the milk and make cheese, too. I know how to make cheese.”
“Okay.” Juana sat back and pushed herself into one of Sanchez’s nice blankets. It was getting a little cold and she moved closer to Maria. They were soon sound asleep, tired from their night’s thievery and long journey to the sea. They held each other and it was a good feeling. They had dreams of canned fruit and good cigars and brightly colored candies.
They rode for another day and slept another night in the desert. By midday of the third day they came upon a settlement and the people were friendly. They traded for a hot meal and learned how to get to the little shop by the sea. They’d be there by midday next. It was exciting and as they slept in the barn, under a carriage, Maria could feel something moving under her head. She looked up and saw Juana sliding a six shooter beneath her makeshift pillow. She smiled into Juana’s eyes.
“Just in case, Maria, just in case.”
The store was not unlike Sanchez’s store, but it backed up to the Gulf of California. The girls thought it must be the ocean as they did not know of such things. It was beautiful and they’d never seen such water.
The shop owner was a kindly looking man who was really a snake, but a wily snake who had learned to survive among thieves by treating them well—all of them, even if they were of the diminutive variety.
He was famous throughout the land and this is how Juana knew of him. She
’d learned a great deal from the whores and their clients. Bad men liked to talk and brag, and what better place to brag in than a brothel?
He walked out of his store with his little customers and eyed the goods. They were high quality and he knew where they had come from. He looked the horse and the wagon over as well. He looked at the girls and surveyed their clothing.
“I’ll take it all and trade with you for some burros and clothes. You don’t want to be caught in any of that.”
He pointed at them and they looked down. Maria was a little disappointed, then disappointed in herself for not thinking of it. It would take a lot of thinking and planning to be a successful bandit. She was glad she’d be out of the trading business once this transaction was completed.
Now it was Juana’s turn to be clever. “Mister, here is what we need.” He looked at her and listened intently.
The man liked the girls and he turned out to be a good man, despite his trade. There was so much wickedness in the land and the man, by one set of circumstances or another, found himself in the business. It was essentially easy, as the government was corrupt and he need only pay tribute to the local authorities in order to ply his trade.
He had an assistant, a young woman who was very pretty and she too was kind to the girls. It was as if she’d known what they’d been through up to this point in their young lives. She invited them to dine with her and the man and to sleep inside. There was a little room in the garret and it had windows on either end. The sea breezes made sleeping comfortable.
They slept together and Maria felt good again, just as she had in the whorehouse bed, but this one was even better. It did not stink or sag and the covers weren’t red. They were white and bright and clean and smelled good because the fence’s assistant hung them out in the ocean breeze to dry.
The pillow was the best, though. Maria had never felt such a pillow. It was made of good goose down and cradled her head and neck. She wondered if maybe they should just stay with these people. They could work and help out and let the people keep all the money from Sanchez’s goods. Then Maria would not really be a thief because she hadn’t profited from the goods. She’d just transported them and the fence took them and let them stay as a favor. She fell asleep dreaming of this as Juana snored softly in her ear.
