THE WINTER CAME and went. One Saturday in the early spring, Diego ran into Mary as he was walking down Stanton Street. It was she who had noticed him first. “Juan, honey!” she yelled, but since he had stopped looking for her, he did not notice her until she ran up to him, pulled his arm, and turned his face toward her. When he caught sight of her lips, he smiled and laughed. “Juan, darling,” she said. He hugged her as if he was never going to let her go. She giggled like a little girl, and finally pulled herself away so he could see her lips. “Juan, sugar, ain’t you somethin’. You missed Mary, did you?”
He nodded.
“Ain’t you the nicest thing?”
He took out his pad and wrote, “Where were you?”
“They sent me away, Juan, put me in a place where they talked at me forever. Asked me questions ‘bout everything I ever done, everything I ever thought. I never did let ‘em know, I just looked at ‘em and made things up. And that weren’t the worst of it neither, no sir, Juan, but I don’t want to think about it no more. I’m back now, Juan. It sure is good to see you, honey. Just lookin’ at you makes me forget about that awful place. I’m back.”
Diego smiled. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”
Mary laughed. “Oh, Juan, you’re sweeter than my mama’s pecan pie. But really, I’m so busy.” She played with her dishwater blond hair and combed it back as if she were in front of a mirror. “And look at me, Johnny, I’m a mess.”
“But you still look better than me,” he wrote. He winked at her.
“If I didn’t know better,” she said, looking at his pad, “I’d swear you was makin’ a pass at me, honey.”
He laughed. “It’s an honest offer.”
She grabbed his arm and looked at him. “If I wasn’t so hungry, darlin’, I’d be more difficult.” She looked at her watch. “I suppose the rest of ‘em can wait while Mary eats with a gentleman.” She kept talking, telling him how good he looked as they walked. “Ever so much better than James Dean. Why, Juan, you look better than the sun in a blue sky after forty days of rain. Don’t you know that, Johnny?”
Diego smiled at her and nodded.
She talked all the way to Sol’s Barbecue. They sat at a table near the window, and Mary kept talking. She talked and talked for over an hour and ate at the same time. Diego couldn’t make out half of what of what she was saying. Even her lips were impossible to read with Sol’s barbecue hanging out of her mouth. He noticed she was pretty—he had never noticed that before, and he also noticed she didn’t smell like pigeon shit anymore and that she didn’t seem to be as crazy. Diego figured she would always be a little off, but she wasn’t crazy like before. “And,” she said—enunciating every word—”them people where I was at never did believe me about me bein’ the Virgin. There was one man in there, Juan, I swear he was the craziest, meanest man I ever did meet. Said to me one day, T hear you think you’re a virgin.’ ‘I’m not a virgin,’ I says to him, ‘I’m the Virgin.’ ‘That a fact?’ he says. ‘Indeed I am,’ I says. ‘Well,’ he says to me, ‘I can smell a virgin for ten miles, and you don’t smell like no virgin I ever smelled.’ And I says to him, ‘That’s because your nose ain’t smart enough to smell the real thing, ya hear? Your nose couldn’t tell a skunk from a mangy mutt. Your nose couldn’t tell a cat from a possum,’ That’s what I tell ‘em. But I’m boring you, ain’t I, Juan? Me and all my stories—but one thing, Juan, one thing I tell you, I tell you ‘cause I know you won’t breathe a word: I ain’t goin’ back. I told ‘em I’d be back, but it weren’t true—I ain’t never goin’ back to that place. I live on the streets ‘cause the Virgin ain’t got no place to lay her head. S’posed to be that way.”
Diego nodded all the way through Mary’s story. He touched her hand, then pulled himself away. Even though he had never known very much about her and she liked to talk too much, he had missed her. The streets of El Paso had not seemed the same without her.
“Will you meet me on Saturdays and have lunch with me?” He showed her his pad.
Mary stared at him. She thought for a while. “No funny business?” she asked.
Diego shook his head.
“Well, I don’t know, Juan,” she said, playing with her hair. “God knows what he’ll have me doin’. It’s so hard to say.”
“No funny business,” he wrote, “and I promise I’ll pay for the meals. A Virgin needs to eat good meals. And besides, maybe God wants you to spend some time converting an old sinner.”
Mary laughed, pointing her head toward the ceiling. For an instant, she looked like Luz. “You silly thing, you ain’t no sinner. You’re an innocent. I swear you’re so pure that the sun shines off your face. I swear it’s true.” She looked at her hands, rough and scarred, and stuck them out in front of her. “I do believe I could use a manicure.” She put her hands against her face. “Juan, honey, I don’t see how I can resist such a tempting offer, it comin’ from a gentleman and all. We can meet here every Saturday if you like, but if we agree on it, and if you ever stand Mary up, then Mary’s gonna be plenty upset. Mary won’t forgive a man who leaves her lookin’ like a fool.”
Diego nodded. “I promise I’ll never leave you waiting,” he wrote.
She smiled, kissed him on the cheek, and stood up. “It’s settled then, honey,” she said. She winked at him and disappeared out the door, taking the crackers on the table with her.
Mary walked into her one-bedroom efficiency and smiled. She had more secondhand clothes than furniture: a bed, a table, a chair, and a closet full of dresses. She thought of Diego, his boyish handsome face, his shy smile, his straight white teeth. She wondered why some woman hadn’t seduced him away from his virginity. She was sure he was a virgin. As far as she was concerned his deafness was more of an asset than a handicap. Most men were in love with their own voices. She wondered what he thought of her, did he tike her, could there be something—she shook her head. She reached for her medicine, stared at the label, and took her dose. She was better since she’d been taking it. Maybe the doctor at the hospital where she’d been had been right. Maybe sanity was a better option than all the craziness she had been living the last five years. The medicine made her feel as if she had a center somewhere inside, a center with an intelligent heart. Maybe, if the pills worked—if they kept working—maybe she could get back her children. Maybe just see them and hold them, just for a short time. New Orleans was a long way from El Paso. Mary did not even remember how she had gotten here. “Maybe the pills, maybe the pills and Diego will save me.” She looked around her room. It wasn’t much, but it was belter than the streets. “Maybe I’ll find me a nice picture.”
Diego stayed behind at the restaurant and ordered another cup of coffee. He wondered what Luz would say about his new relationship. He knew she would think he was a pendejo. He could almost see her lips saying: “That pinche gringa’s gonna soak you for all the money you got. Isn’t it just like a Mexican man to fall for a gringa.” He smiled to himself as he drank his coffee.
He walked toward the Bowie Bakery tike he did every Saturday by way of La Fe Clinic. As he reached the Alamito projects on St. Vrain, he noticed Tencha running in the middle of the street like a scared rabbit. She was waving her hands in the air like the flags on the river. Diego sensed she was in trouble, and ran toward her. She was yelling something and crying, and all the while her hands were waving, Diego grabbed her and shook her. “¡Lo mataron!” she screamed. Diego saw the words but didn’t understand. He looked at her face. “¡Lo mataron!” she screamed again, pointing toward a dumpster. The green-eyed nurse from the clinic stepped out into the street and stared at them. Diego motioned her over for help as he dragged Tencha from the middle of the street. Tencha kept yelling and kicking and screaming, and Diego was happy he didn’t have to listen to her screams. If they sounded anything like the expressions on her face, then he was sure the noises she was making were awful. As Tencha waved her arms, she caught his cheek with her elbow. The nurse grabbed her and tried to settle her down. Diego took a deep breath, and stared at the nurse who was trying to calm the crazed woman down. Luz would slap her, he thought. He remembered the dumpster Tencha had pointed at. He walked toward it and stared at a man’s body lying on top of the garbage. He ran toward the nurse and pulled her away from Tencha. He tugged her toward the dumpster, “My God!” she said. He watched the nurse closely. She wanted to run, but didn’t. She took a deep breath and reached her hand in the dumpster. She grabbed Diego’s arm and spoke directly into his face: “I can’t reach him. Can you help me get him out?” Diego nodded, hesitated, then jumped onto the dumpster. He climbed inside trying to ignore the stench of rotting food. He slowly and awkwardly lifted the man’s body, and he was surprised that the body was still warm and not very heavy. Slowly, he and the green-eyed nurse managed to pull the body out without dropping it and lay it on the sidewalk.
“There’s a pulse,” she said.
Tencha stared at the body and screamed, Diego caught sight of her contorted face. Her scream must have been loud because suddenly the residents of the projects gathered as if someone had rung a bell calling them together. One of the ladies grabbed Tencha and tried to comfort her. She enjoyed hysterics, he thought, A group of men ran toward the clinic and came running with Dr. Dominguez.
Diego watched as the doctor knelt next to the nurse and the body. “Lots of blood,” he said. “It’s a wonder this guy’s not dead. These guys are built pretty tough.” He said something else, but Diego couldn’t see his lips. He ripped the wounded man’s shin open and looked at the nurse. “Let’s call an ambulance,” he said.
Diego tugged at the nurse’s arm and pointed to his lips and ear. The body moved his lips. He started to mumble, but Diego could not make out his words. The nearly dead man tried to force himself to speak and lift his head.
“He said he doesn’t want to go to no damn hospital. He says he doesn’t want any cops.” Carolyn spoke directly into Diego’s face.
One of the younger men in the crowd pulled at Diego’s shoulder. He spoke into Diego’s face deliberately. “Hey, I know you—I’ve seen you around—can’t talk, huh?”
Diego nodded.
“Listen, I know this guy, he’s bad news, his name’s Mundo, and he’s always in deep shit. Tell ‘em to call the cops.”
Diego nodded. He took out his pad and wrote, “His name’s Mundo.” He showed the note to the nurse.
The nurse looked at the note and spoke to the man, “Mundo, you’re going to be OK, but we’ve got to get you to a hospital.”
He made a face and said something.
The nurse looked at the doctor, then at Diego. “He said ‘No fuckin’ hospitals.’”
For a while the doctor and the nurse looked at each other trying to decide what to do. “Let’s get this guy inside the clinic,” the doctor said finally, “I doubt if he’ll die on us. Jesus Christ! These guys have nine lives. They’re hard as hell to kill.” He shook his head and laughed. He ran inside the clinic and came out with two men and a stretcher. They lifted Mundo and took him inside the clinic. Diego followed them in. The crowd stayed behind staring inside the dumpster.
The nurse took Tencha inside and tried to calm her down. Tencha was unable to control her wailing, and the nurse seemed to walk a fine line between patience and anger. She finally stopped crying, but after a few minutes of silence she began throwing her arms in the air and yelling. Diego kept his distance, afraid Tencha would hit him again. Finally, the nurse cradled her in her arms until she calmed down. One of the other ladies in the clinic came over to them.
“Can you take her home?” the nurse asked her.
The lady nodded. The two old women walked out of the clinic holding on to each other.
Diego looked up at the nurse as Tencha walked out the door. “She gets a little excited, doesn’t she?” he wrote. He flashed her his note.
The nurse smiled. “She can’t help it. You know, her son was killed in a fight a few years ago. She still hasn’t gotten over it. Anyway, she’s prone to theatrics—you should have seen her at her son’s funeral. She threw herself on her son’s casket and when one of her brothers tried to pull her off, she belted him a good one.”
He pointed at his cheek where Tencha had hit him. “Some women are pretty heavy-handed.”
She looked at his note and laughed. “Some of us are determined to leave our marks on the world—one way or another.”
Diego laughed and nodded. “That’s OK with me,” he wrote, “so long as the marks aren’t on my body.”
She let out a strong laugh. “Hell,” she said, “our bodies always take the worst of it.”
“You’re right,” he wrote. “If the people around us don’t kill us first, then time will take care of us sooner or later. Hell, look at my hair—it’s already rotting. See all the white?”
She read the note and shook her head. “You’re exaggerating. You’re a long way from death.”
Diego nodded. He smiled at her—but he thought she was wrong; he never thought of himself as being very far from death. “Do you think Mundo will be OK?”
“I’m sure he will be. Dr. Dominguez is a very good doctor.” She pointed down the hall. “If he were that bad, if he were dying or something, he would have already called the ambulance. I’m sure he’ll be fine. These gang members have nine lives.” She looked at him carefully to make sure he understood.
Diego nodded and motioned her to sit next to him. She looked at him. “If you sit next to me,” he wrote, “you can see what I write easier and we can almost have a normal conversation.” He handed her the note.
She smiled as she read it. “Good idea,” she said. She sat next to Diego and watched his hands as he wrote.
“Are you going to call the cops?”
“We’re supposed to.”
“Probably not,” she said.
“How come?”
“Well, if he’s going to be OK, then what’s the point? The poor guy’s got enough troubles, don’t you think? He’s probably on probation and if we call someone he’ll probably end up in jail. Jail won’t do him any good—it’s too late for that.”
Diego stared at her lips and noticed the faint smell of perfume. “You seem to be pretty calm about all this.”
“It’s happened before,” she said, “they’re always stabbing each other. Only usually, we don’t have to pick them out of the garbage.”
“Do you like them?”
“The gang members, you mean? They’re OK. I mean, they try to put the moves on me when I have them as patients, but it doesn’t bother me much. I think I recognize Mundo, now that I think about it. He’s a real ladies’ man. Anyway, these guys aren’t as creepy as they make themselves out to be, they’re just a little confused. I mean, they’re not smart like rich people—rich people don’t kill each other—they kill other people. But these guys, they’re always killing each other.”
“What do you mean about rich people killing other people?”
“Nothing, never mind—I’m just talking.”
“You think these guys will ever stop stabbing each other?”
She stared down at the pad. “I doubt it. They’re not very different from anybody else—you ever watch the news?”
Diego shook his head. “I don’t have a TV.”
“It’s just as well. All you see are governments warring with each other—all over the globe they’re at war with each other. Governments are supposed to be civilized. They’re supposed to know better.”
“I guess so,” Diego wrote, “I never thought about it very much.”
“Well, maybe you’re better off. It’s better not to think about things you can’t do anything about—gets you into trouble. Makes it hard to sleep.” She noticed a pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. “Do you mind if I have one of your cigarettes?”
“You’re supposed to know better,” he wrote.
She smiled at him. He handed her a cigarette. She looked around. lit it, and inhaled deeply. “I shouldn’t be doing this.” She looked tired. “Why are you waiting for him?”
“I want to make sure he doesn’t die.”
The doctor came out of the room and down the hall. “I think we can handle it,” he told her, “but I’ll need your help, Carolyn.” She put out her cigarette and followed him in. Diego sat and waited. He fell asleep in the chair. Sometime later he felt a hand on his shoulder. “He’s going to be all right.” The nurse asked him for another cigarette. “Maybe now I’ll have enough time to smoke it.” She lit the cigarette and dropped her shoulders. “He’ll have a few more scars to show for it, but he’s going to be fine.”
Diego nodded.
“Do you know where he lives?”
“No. I don’t even know who he is. Just his first name, that’s all.” He handed her the note.
She crumpled it up. “He won’t tell us his full name, and he won’t tell us where he lives. Stubborn as a mule.”
“So what are you going to do?” He stopped and looked up at her, then wrote, “I like your name.”
She nodded. “It was my grandmother’s name, too.” She took a puff from her cigarette, then put it out.
“Is she still alive?”
The nurse shook her head. “Dead like everyone else.”
“Like everyone else?”
“Never mind,” she said. She stretched her arms and yawned. “I’ve got to get home and get some sleep.”
Diego looked at her.
“Well, Mundo can’t stay here, that’s for sure. This isn’t a hospital. No one’s here to take care of him, and he’s going to have to stay in bed for a few days. I sure as hell can’t leave him out on the street, and I sure as hell don’t want to take him home. I’ve done that before—and I’ll never do it again. If he doesn’t give me some information about where we can take him, I’m going to threaten him with the cops.”
Diego thought a minute. He nodded and a grin came to his face. “I just thought of something,” he wrote.
“What?”
“He can come home with me. I mean, it’s not a great place or anything like that, but it beats the hell out of a dumpster.”
She looked over his shoulder and stared at his handwriting.
“That’s very kind, she said, “but this guy’s a badass. I don’t imagine he’d be very easy to live with or take care of. What if he doesn’t like you?”
“Who cares?”
“What if he makes your life miserable?”
“My life is already miserable.”
She laughed. “He’s going to be a pain in the ass.”
“That’s OK. I don’t hear, remember? All I have to do is look away if he starts insulting me. And it doesn’t look like he’s in any shape to rip me up with a knife, does it? It’s only for a couple of days and these guys aren’t really so bad when they’re away from their friends. I’m not afraid.”
The nurse thought about Diego’s suggestion. “Yes,” she nodded. “I’ll help you get him to your place.”