The Painted Boy (5 page)

That was her mastiff who wasn’t mean, just enthusiastic, but because of his size most people couldn’t tell the difference when he came charging across the yard toward them.

“
All
of them,” Anna said. “The cats were different. They hated him, though now that I think of it, they didn’t seem so hissy when I came back into the trailer to see if he was done with his shower.”

“And were hoping to catch him naked.”

Anna gave her a light punch on the arm.

Rosalie grinned, but changed the subject. “So what does it all mean?”

“I have no idea. I just know I’m spending the night with you and I’m going to have a baseball bat under my side of the bed in case he tries something funny.”

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

“You weren’t there, Rosie. It was all really weird.”

“Okay. But you don’t have to come over. I’ll bring Oswaldo into my bedroom tonight.”

“Weren’t you listening to me?” Anna said. “The dogs treat him like he’s a saint.”

“Oh, come on.”

Anna crossed her heart with a finger. “I swear.”

Rosalie realized that her friend was completely serious.

“Fine,” she said. “You know you’re always welcome. But this better not be an excuse to go crawling into his bed in the middle of the night.”

She danced back before Anna could punch her again, but Anna didn’t move.

“I just want to talk to him,” she said. “I want him to tell us who he is.”

When the restaurant was all cleaned up and ready for the next day’s business, Rosalie grabbed a stuffed garbage bag by the kitchen door.

“I can get that,” Jay said, starting to get up from his chair.

But Rosalie waved him off. She took the bag out to the alley and dropped it into the Dumpster, lowering the lid carefully so that it wouldn’t clang when it closed. She started back, but a voice stopped her.

“Hey, homegirl.”

“Who . . . ?”

Then Rosalie saw her under the security light of the building across from the alley, lounging against the side of her old Buick four-door. Maria Sanchez. Once upon a time they’d been best friends. But then Maria got jumped in with the Kings to become one of their Presidio Queens. Her hair was in cornrows and she wore baggy black cargo pants and a tight white T under a brown hoodie. The only sign of her gang colors was the red-and-green handkerchief tied around her right wrist.

“Hey, Maria,” she said. “What’s up?”

Maria shrugged. “You know. This and that.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Heh. That still feels weird to me.”

“What does?” Rosalie asked.

“You asking me what I’m doing here. Time was, you’d want to know why I
wasn’t
hanging with you.”

“That was your choice, not mine.”

“Yeah, so you keep telling me. But other girls from our old crowd still hang with me and I don’t see them wearing any colors.”

“Maybe because the
bandas
didn’t kill their mother.”

“
Bandas
didn’t kill your mother,” Maria said. “Meth freaks did.”

Rosalie shrugged. What was the difference? One was as bad as the other, and her mother was still dead.

“Anyway,” Maria went on, “I just came by to give you a heads-up.”

“About what?”

“Your China Boy. Maybe Tío’s old ties can keep the Kings away from your family, but Cruz knows you lied to him and there’s always some wannabes hanging around who might get the idea that doing you some hurt would let them get in good with him.”

“Cruz is the guy with the crown tattooed on his forehead?”

Maria nodded.

Maybe she’d have to start bringing Oswaldo in to work for protection, Rosalie thought. Too bad Jay
didn’t
know kung fu.

“What do the Kings want with him?” Rosalie asked. “He’s just some kid from Chicago.”

“It’s not about the Kings,” Maria told her. “Word is Flores wants to see him.”

Rosalie felt a little sick. Amada Flores was everything that was wrong with the barrios. He was one of the Mexican drug lords who’d set up shop in Santo del Vado Viejo. Violence followed in his wake.

“But
why
?”

“Like I said, I don’t have a clue. But you know how it works. Flores isn’t going to give a shit about any agreement Tío has with the
bandas
. Somebody’s going to be collecting your homeboy, and I’m guessing probably sooner than later.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Maria pushed away from her car.

“You turned your back on me,” she said. “I didn’t turn my back on you.”

She got into her car before Rosalie could respond. It started up with a coughing backfire. Rosalie watched its taillights until the Buick turned out of the alley, then stood there for a long time after it was gone. She knew she should tell Tío, but she also knew what his response would be: Jay would be out on the street before she could finish passing on Maria’s message.

Maybe it would be better that way, considering everything Anna had told her. She didn’t owe Jay anything. But she liked him. And then there was the fact that he was alone here.

Anna was right.

She
was
a soft touch.

So she’d tell Tío. But first she’d let Jay tell his side of the story.

It was a good plan—or at least it seemed that way until they all left the restaurant. As Paco said good-bye and wandered off down the alley heading for home, Rosalie saw a couple of girls standing across the alley under the security light where Maria’s Buick had been. The pair wore the red-and-green colors of the Kings openly. One of them made some signs with her hands, then the two of them laughed and disappeared into the darkness.

“What did she say?” Rosalie asked Tío. “I know those were gang signs.”

Tío’s face had gone dark with contained anger.

“She signed ‘Your ass is ours, bitch,’ ” he said. His gaze went to her. “Is there something going on that I should know about, Rosalita?”

“It’s not like you think.”

“I don’t know what to think,” Tío said. He looked from her to Anna and Jay. “Unless there’s more to the story about what happened on the patio this afternoon with you and Jay and the gangbangers.”

“There is,” Rosalie had to tell him, “but I didn’t know it then.”

“There is?” Jay said, clearly surprised.

Rosalie ignored him, keeping her attention on her uncle.

“But we shouldn’t talk about it here,” she said. “Let’s wait till we get home.”

Tío nodded. “But then you’ll tell me everything.”

“Everything I know.”

 

 

Normally they would have walked the few blocks home, but since Anna was here with her car, they all rode with her. The short trip passed in silence. When the dogs gathered around the gate to greet them, Rosalie could see what Anna had meant. There was no raucous barking, no jumping up for attention. The pack sat quietly, their focus on Jay as he got out of the car.

Tío hadn’t been part of Rosalie and Anna’s conversation back at the restaurant, but he couldn’t ignore the dogs’ uncharacteristic behavior. He stopped, his hand on the gate, his gaze tracking from the dogs to where Jay stood.

“What . . . ?” he began.

But Rosalie gave him a little push on the back. She’d been scanning the long dirt alley for any sign of the Kings. With the constant warring between the
bandas
, it wasn’t impossible that the four of them might suddenly become the target of a drive-by.

“I know it’s weird,” she said. “But let’s get inside.”

Tío nodded. He opened the gate and led the way into the adobe house. When they were in the living room, he waved them all to chairs. But once they were sitting, he continued to stand. He looked from Rosalie to Jay.

“Now who’s going to tell me what’s going on?” he asked.

His voice was mild, but they all caught his contained anger. Rosalie felt terrible. He’d worked so hard to build up the business and divorce himself from his
bandas
past. Now here she’d brought the danger right to them. Saying she hadn’t known didn’t make her feel any less guilty.

“I told you the truth about this afternoon,” she said. “Two of the Kings came looking for Jay while he was hiding in a tree above their heads. He says he doesn’t know why and I didn’t until I talked to Maria when I was taking out the garbage.”

“Maria Sanchez?” Anna asked. “I thought you two weren’t talking, not since she got jumped in by the Kings.”

“We haven’t been. But she was waiting for me in the alley. She said she came to warn me.”

“Do you even trust her? I mean, why would she do that?”

Rosalie sighed. “She said that just because I’d turned my back on her, it didn’t mean that she’d turned hers on me.”

“What did she
tell
you?” Tío asked.

“That it’s not just the Kings looking for Jay—it’s all the
bandas
. Apparently Flores wants to see him.”

Anna gasped. Tío sat down on a chair across from where the three of them sat in a row on couch. His shoulders slumped.

“Who’s this Flores?” Jay asked.

“Amada Flores.” Rosalie told him. “Styles himself as a local businessman. He owns a pool hall on Presidio. But the truth is he’s one of the Mexican drug lords who use Santo del Vado Viejo as their base of operations on this side of the border. They call him ‘El Tigre.’”

She watched Jay’s eyes widen, then he gave a slow nod.

“Of course, they would,” he said.

“So you do know something!”

“I don’t know anything,” Jay said. “But there’s a longstanding hostility between dragons and tigers.”

“I don’t understand,” Rosalie said.

“It means he
is
in a gang,” Anna said. “He’s got that big dragon tattoo on his back.”

Tío leaned forward. “Maybe you should tell us what you do know.”

Jay could only shake his head. “If I knew anything useful, believe me I would.”

“Well, it seems to me,” Tío said, “that you have two choices here. You can walk away, and we can only hope the trouble will follow you. Or you can tell us what you do know. Maybe we can help.”

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try us,” Rosalie said.

Jay gave another slow nod.

“Paupau—my grandmother,” he added for Tío’s and Anna’s sake. “She says the root of the hostility between dragons and tigers is because they’re on opposite sides of the zodiac.”

The other three looked at him with blank bewilderment.

“Maybe you should go back to the beginning,” Tío said.

Rosalie and Anna nodded in agreement.

“The beginning,” Jay repeated. “The beginning of dragons, or how I found out that I was one?”

There was a long moment of silence, then Tío cleared his throat.

“Start with your own story,” he said.

Jay nodded. He looked up at the ceiling, unable, Rosalie thought, or unwilling to meet their gazes.

“There are five tribes of dragons,” he finally said. “I was born to the yellow.”

“So the Chinese gangs don’t have an initiation?” Anna asked. “You’re
born
into a gang?”

“They’re not gangs,” Jay said.

“But—”

“Let him tell it his own way,” Tío said.

Anna nodded. “Sure, it’s just . . . never mind.” She made a motion like she was zipping her mouth shut. “I’m listening.”

“The four other dragon tribes,” Jay went on, “are each connected to one of the four directions—east, west, north, and south—but the yellow dragons are solitary. Our place is in the center. In the old days, we protected the emperor, but there is no emperor anymore, so now we have to choose a place or a people to look after. If the spirits of our ancestors approve of our choice, and we prove worthy, we’re given the full mantle of our tribe, not simply an image on our skin.”

Anna looked as if she wanted to say something, but when Jay paused, she pretended to zip her mouth again and shook her head.