Free Thirteen Senses by Víctor Villaseñor Page A

Devil’s finest playground.
    â€œRelax,” said Salvador, “just relax, amigo ,” he added, reaching out and stroking Tomas’s leg like you’d do for a woman. This he’d seen done in prison. This small, innocent-looking act caused a frightened man’s balls to draw completely up into his body, leaving him as available as any female who’d lost all self-respect.
    â€œIt’s all right, amigo mio ,” continued Salvador, talking softly, gently, “I know that you didn’t intentionally mean any harm. But, well, you know how it is, a man’s livelihood is a man’s livelihood, and just because—” Salvador now had to swallow hard to keep himself calm, “—I got married doesn’t mean that I still can’t take care of business.”
    Salvador wanted to scream, to turn into a jaguar and rip this man’s throat out with his teeth, but he didn’t. He calmed down, breathing easy like a reptile in the hot midday desert.
    Up ahead, in the canyon, Salvador pulled off the dirt road of El Camino and took a trail across a meadow toward some abandoned horse corrals.
    Inside the barn were the two little pigs, which Salvador and the Morenos had brought by earlier when they’d checked things out. And now, in no time at all, the Moreno boys had a good little fire going.
    By now Tomas was so confused, not knowing what was going on, that he just couldn’t shut up. Salvador just loved how the unknown rattled people, particularly those who weren’t at home with themselves. The changing forces of living life, la vida, could kill a man who didn’t have his feet well planted into the Mother Earth.
    â€œBut Salvador, I never brought them down here!” Tomas was now saying. “You need to believe me! I swear it on my mother’s grave! I respect a man’s territory!”
    Salvador almost laughed on this one. Years ago he’d learned, that anytime a man swore to something, especially over his mother’s grave, this meant that then this was exactly what this man was lying about. Lies were such good company to fear.
    â€œYes, you respect a man’s territory,” said Salvador. “But do you respect a man’s marriage?”
    â€œBut what are you talking about?” yelled Tomas, eyes jumping.
    â€œMarriage,” said Salvador, “do you respect a man who’s gotten married? Or do you—like so many little two-bit pimps who handle women with a slap in the face—think a man’s gone weak in the head when he’s in love and he marries?”
    â€œSalvador, I swear, I don’t know what you’re talking about! I have never even spoken to this girl you married. I—I—oh, God, I think there’s been a misunderstanding here! I deal in cards and, you know, prostitutes; not in decent women, Salvador!”
    Salvador only smiled. “Exactly. I know. I know,” he said as he continued to sharpen his knife, realizing that yes, indeed, he’d struck pure gold here inside this man’s private hell.
    Why, it was this little two-bit Tomas who’d told the Filipino and the Italiano that the North County San Diego was for the taking because Salvador was getting married and couldn’t control his area anymore. Why, this little son-of-a-bitch had probably even told ’em, “Come on, hurry, before someone else moves in! For we all know that a man who marries has lost his nerve!”
    Salvador turned and looked at Tomas, and yes, Tomas was tall, well-built, and very handsome with a rugged appearance to him. But looking at his eyes, especially into his left eye, the female eye, it was easy to see just how very little Tomas really was.
    Why, Tomas was nothing but a rabbit, a cottontail, facing his worst nightmare, the She-Fox, herself!
    Salvador now rolled up the left sleeve of his own shirt, and licked the hairiest part of his forearm, then he put the blade of the knife that