The factory whistle screamed the end to another workday. Tomás threw his gloves into his locker and picked up his lunch pail. His friend Armando slid in next to him and started to open his own locker.
“Hey, Armando! What do you say to a drink? Shall we stop at Rosa’s Bar on the way home?”
“I do not know, Tomás. The last time we went for a drink, I could hardly get you to leave. I do not want to stay out late. Emma and the kids will be waiting for me.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t want to stay late, either. After all, my wife and children are waiting, too.”
“Yes, but you leave them alone more often than I do, Tomás. I do not like to stay away. I want to spend time with my family.”
“Well, we can still stop for one drink. If you are worried about leaving, we can take separate cars. I have my truck today. You have your car, do you not?”
“Yes, I have the car. I just don’t know.”
“Whatever. I don’t want to twist your arm. I can go without you.” Tomás was beginning to feel offended.
“No, no. I am sorry, Tomás. I do not mean to sound like I did. I would love to go for that drink. Are you ready?”
“Ready as ever!” answered Tomás as he slapped Armando on the back. Both men headed toward their vehicles. “I’ll meet you there!”
Rosa’s Bar was less than a mile from their job. The place was right off the main road, but it was not exactly well known. It was a pink, cinder block building with no windows in the front or on the sides. Rosa’s Bar was painted in black script letters above the door on the west side. Not exactly elegant, but it served its purpose. Tomás arrived just ahead of Armando. He waited beside his red Chevy pickup while his friend maneuvered into a tight spot.
“Be careful, Armando! I wouldn’t want to see you scrape that lovely paint job of yours!”
“Thank you, Tomás. I appreciate your concern.”
It was a joke between the friends. Armando’s car looked exactly like the vehicles in the junkyard down the street. Tomás doubted if Armando would even notice if his car was scraped. That was why he teased. Armando could take a joke. He was a good friend.
The friends headed into the dark bar. They had to stand just inside the doorway for nearly thirty seconds before they could walk in further. Eyes adjusting to the light, or lack of it, inside the bar the friends were soon able to make out the shapes and faces of the other patrons. They moved slowly along the bar and found two open seats.
Climbing up on the rickety stools, Tomás greeted the bartender and shouted, “Jose, my friend! How are you this fine evening?”
“Muy bien, Señores. What can I get you?”
“I’ll take a beer, on tap,” replied Armando.
“Me, too. And give me a shot of Cuervo Gold. You want a shot, Armando?”
“No, Tomás, I told you I will not be staying long, did I not? I will just have one beer with you.”
“Suit yourself. Just bring me a shot, Jose, and don’t forget the lime and salt.”
“Comin’ right up.” Jose walked down the bar to retrieve their drinks.
The bartender returned in a moment with two glasses of beer and a shot of tequila. He placed the alcohol in front of Tomás and Armando and quickly grabbed the salt shaker and a handful of lime sections. “Anything else, Señores!”
Tomás shook his head to indicate that they didn’t need anything. Jose grabbed a twenty-dollar bill off the bar in front of each man and went off to get their change.
“Salud, my friend,” Tomás said. He shook some salt onto his fist, then licked it with his tongue. This ritual was followed by an immediate downing of the burning liquid. Two seconds later, the glass drained, he squeezed the lime and stuck it between his teeth. His face contorted with the mixture, but he was soon smiling at his friend. “Great stuff!”
“I would prefer to slick with beer. Tequila is too strong for me. No, I do not want to get drunk tonight.”
“Well, it’s not too strong for me. Jose! Bring me another shot!” Tomás waved at the bartender.
Jose walked up and stated, “Señor, I have not even had a chance to bring you your change from the first round! Give me a moment and I will return with another shot.” He turned to Armando. “Anything for you?”
“No, gracias. I will just drink this beer and then I will be heading for home.”
Jose dropped Armando’s change in front of him, removed the money for the second shot from Tomás’ money, and then left his change as well. Within a minute he returned with Tomás’ second shot.
“Salud,” Tomás uttered as he raised his glass to Jose. After following the usual ritual, the second shot went the way of the first. “So, how have you been, Armando?”
Armando noticed that Tomás’ words were already beginning to slur. He winced to think of his friend getting drunk and making a fool of himself, but he knew better than to try to talk him out of it. Tomás did not like to hear criticism of his drinking. It was better just to ignore it and leave as soon as he could.
Armando tried to engage in a polite discussion, but Tomás ordered another shot, and then another. By that time, intelligent conversation was impossible. Armando decided it was time to leave.
“Good night, my friend,” he said to Tomás as he rose from his bar stool. “My wife is waiting, so I have to go. You should think about leaving, as well. Do you not think it is about time?”
“You go on ahead, Armando. I will soon be on my way. I just want to stay and keep Jose company a little longer.”
“Well, drive careful, Tomás. You have had much to drink.”
“Don’t worry about me. I can hold my liquor.”
Armando could hardly understand his friend. It was if his mouth was stuffed with cotton. Still, he did not want to start an argument. After patting Tomás on the back he headed out of the bar.
Stopping just before he pushed the heavy door to the parking lot, Armando heard Tomás strike up a friendship with the woman who had been sitting near them. Speaking to himself, Armando muttered to himself, “Just mind your own business.” He pretended not to notice the flirtation, silently slipping out the exit.
Tomás spent the evening as the life of the party. He talked and joked, played pool and danced, and, of course, he drank. The one thing he didn’t do was check the time. Hours flew by like a movie on fast forward.
“Señor, it is time to go. Will you be all right to drive?" asked Jose.
“What? Why is it time to go?” inquired Tomás. “The bar is closing, Señor. You will have to leave.”
“Oh, sorry. I guess you are right then. I’d better get moving.”
“Are you able to drive?”
“Yeah, sure. Don’t worry about me, my friend. I’m good to go.” Tomás staggered toward the door with a couple of other bar closers. He knew he was a little unsteady on his feet, but he eventually made it to his truck. Struggling to fit his key into the ignition, he ultimately made the engine turn over. Slowly, like a caterpillar moving across asphalt, the vehicle somehow emerged from the lot.
Not five minutes later, Armando returned to Rosa’s. Walking through the threshold, he spotted Jose cleaning the bar.
“I am sorry, Señor,” said Jose. “The bar is now closed.” “Pardon me, Jose. I was just looking for my friend,
Tomás. His wife called me asking me to check on him. Poor woman. She is sick with worry.”
“Well, you just missed him. He left about five or ten minutes ago.”
“Gracias. Jose. Forgive me, but I must ask. Was he drunk?”
Jose confirmed Armando’s suspicions.
“Well, I will just drive toward his house to make sure he arrives safely. Thank you, and good night.” Armando headed for the parking lot and within minutes was on the road to Tomás’ house.
Tomás was on the road, too, but just barely. He could hardly see the lines on the pavement. Grateful that the traffic was light, he still didn’t feel bad enough to pull over. All he had to do was just concentrate, and soon he would be home. Just concentrate…and drive slowly, very slowly.
Tomás looked ahead on the road and held the steering wheel tight. Not much farther. Then he saw something up ahead and slowed down. What was it?
The truck headlights made contact and it was then that he realized it was a woman standing beside the road. She was clothed completely in white, and the beams from his lights seemed to illuminate her entire being. Coasting by before he could think, an idea popped up in his head.
Quickly applied his brakes, Tomás grabbed the wheel, cranked it to the left, and made a U turn in the middle of the street. Reversing his path, he was able to stop when he was across from the woman.
“Hey, Señorita, do you need a ride?”
The woman nodded in response. Yes, she needed a ride.
Tomás whipped the truck back around in the opposite direction and pulled up alongside the woman. “Get in. I’ll be happy to take you where you are going.” The woman opened the truck door and hopped up on the passenger seat, but she did not look at Tomás. As he had seen, she was dressed all in white in a gorgeous long dress made of lace. Her head was covered with a white shawl. He wanted to see her face.
“Señorita, where can I take you?” Tomás asked, waiting for her to turn toward him.
The woman’s gaze did not falter from straight ahead. She raised her hand and pointed down the road.
“Well, I understand if you are the quiet type. You just keep pointing and I will take you where you want to go.” Tomás smiled to himself. This night might turn out to be something really special, he thought.
As Tomás continued to try to make conversation, the woman acted like she didn’t even hear him. It didn’t bother Tomás at first, but before long he started to feel strange about the situation. Why wouldn’t she talk? Who was she? Where was he taking her? It was no use asking. She wouldn’t answer.
The drive was becoming uncomfortable. Tomás decided that maybe he didn’t want anything special to happen with this woman. Maybe he just wanted to go home. Right in the middle of his thoughts, he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to look, and there was the woman in white looking straight at him.
She has a skeleton face! Tomás was petrified. He screamed in pure terror as she raised her hand and touched his forehead, slowly caressing his face. It was almost too much for Tomás, and the thought of dying crossed his mind. For the first time that evening, he thought of his wife and how much he truly loved her.
The Skeleton Woman smiled, showing the face of a death mask as she grabbed the wheel. Her long bony fingers wrapped around the mechanism and cranked it to the right.
The last image etched in Tomás’ brain a huge oak tree. The truck barreled toward as if shot from a gun across the pavement. Why is my foot on the gas pedal? Was his last thought before the vehicle slammed into the tree. Unable to make sense of the situation, Tomás lost consciousness in the collision.
Luckily, Armando rounded the bend not two minutes later. Stopping his car, he jumped out to help his friend. Frantically yanking the driver’s door to the truck open, he pulled Tomás from the wreckage. Another car came by soon after, and they raced Tomás to the hospital.
Emergency personnel worked on Tomás throughout the night. If it hadn’t been for Armando and the other driver, Tomás would not have lived. Lucky for him they came along and his injuries were tended.
The next day, the police came to interview Tomás. They asked him to explain the circumstances of the accident. Unfortunately, he was still nearly incoherent, so there was little they could do. They stopped in the hall after the interview and spoke to Armando.
“Are you the friend who found him after the accident?” they asked.
“Yes, it was me,” replied Armando. “Can you tell us what happened?”
“I did not see the accident, but I must have come upon it right after it happened. I do not know why he hit the tree. There was no reason for him to turn to the right.”
“Did you by chance see anyone else with him in the truck?"
“No, of course not. Why do you ask?”
“Well, he is pretty hard to understand, but he seems to be trying to tell us about some woman in white. Do you know anything about her?"
“No, officer. There was no woman in white when I got there. I am positive. Perhaps it was just a, how you say, a hallucination."
“Maybe so, but he seems pretty adamant. I guess we had better check the area just in case. Sometimes people are thrown from the vehicle in a crash like this.”
As Armando entered Tomás’ hospital room, he thought he saw a movement at the window. He walked over and looked out. Nothing was there except a woman in a white dress walking away, but she was across the courtyard. Watching her for a moment, he realized there was something odd about the way she moved. She didn’t seem to walk. It was more of a gliding action, like ice skating with fluid movement. Sunlight seemed to sift right through her body.
Armando watched the apparition as she moved out of view. Closing the curtain, he whispered, “I guess now I am hallucinating.” Moving a chair next to his friend, he began the long wait for Tomás to awaken.
The police reported back later that afternoon. The woman in white was never found.
You see, Mijo? You see what can happen when you spend time at the bars? My brother, Tomás, nearly made the biggest mistake of his life. That is why he no longer drinks the alcohol, no. He does not go to bars and he learned to apreciar a su esposa. How you say? Oh, I know, appreciate his wife. It was she who lo hizo bien otra vez, made him well again. Tomás is a better man because of this, but he does not want you to go through what he did. No. He told me to tell you the story. Sí, él quiere que estés a salvo, he wants you to be safe. Learn from his lesson, Mijo. Do not go to bars or drink alcohol, no, and stay away from misteriosa women. One of them just might be La Mujer de Blanco, the Woman in White.