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Her blue eyes bore into his. “It’s not personal, Alex.”
“It is to me.”
* * *
“Come on, kid, out.”
His eyes too swollen to open, Benny didn’t fight the hands that slid under his arms from behind and pull him from the trunk of the car. The car ride had been too short. He’d felt safe in the trunk. No shooting. No dead men. Nothing in the dark, but him. The man dragged Benny from his safe haven. The back of his legs hit the edge of the trunk. Pain tore through his calves.
“Mama. Mama!” Juice slung Benny over his shoulders like a big sack of pinto beans. “Mama?”
Benny forced his eyes open. Did Juice have a mom still? Would she like it that her son had a gun? What would she think about her son kidnapping a kid and beating him up? He tensed as Juice leaned forward and dropped him to the ground on his back. He gazed up at blue sky behind Juice’s face. There were trees and the air smelled clean, like Mr. Ray’s ranch.
“Get up, kid. We’re here.”
“Jorge Manuel Morin, what you doing here,m’ijo? I told you not to be coming round bring me your trouble.” A skinny lady who reminded Benny of theseñoraswho sold used clothes at the flea market, threw open the screen door. It smacked Benny hard in the side. “Who’s this? You didn’t bring me another of your boys, did you, Jorge? I told you, no way I could feed another mouth with my social security check.”
“No, I didn’t, Mama, I—” The lady smacked Juice in the face, the sound of skin hitting skin making Benny flinch.
“Mama,” Juice screeched. “What’d you do that for? Just let me tell you what—”
“You ain’t telling me no more stories. Last time I listened to your stories, I ended up with thepolicíaat my door.” The lady threw in some Spanish words Benny didn’t understand, then went back to English. “Get this dirtychiquitooff the ground and into the house before somebody sees him and decides to ask questions. And get that tape off him. You crazy, taping up a child like that. Somebody gonna turn you into CPS.”
Juice once again heaved Benny to his feet, but his legs didn’t want to hold him.
“Pobrecito, what’s he gone and done to you?” The lady steadied Benny with one claw-like hand as she opened the screen door and shoved him inside.
The house, dark after the bright sun outside, smelled like burnt rice and something else Benny had smelled sometimes when his mom had friends over. A sweet, thick odor that his stomach feel sick. He stumbled and took a step, slid, and fell to his knees. A film of grease covered the faded kitchen floor. A yellow cat mewed in the corner where it hunched over a dirty, empty dish. Juice disappeared into the other room without looking back.
“You hungry, boy? You can call me, Mari. Everybody does. Real name’s Maricela. Sit down right there.” Mari grabbed a butcher knife from the kitchen table and lifted it over Benny’s head. Benny cringed and shrank against the chair, no place to go, no place to hide.
“Ain’t gonna hurt you,m’ijo.” She sliced the tape around his hands with one clean sweep.
“You gotta name,m’ijo?” She shuffled in green Kermit the Frog slippers to the sink, filled a smudged glass with water from the faucet, and shuffled back. “Ain’t got much to eat in here. Might be somepollo asadofrom last night. Mebbe that was the night before, can’t really remember for sure.”
“Name’s Benny.” His voice had a funny croaky sound to it. Like it belonged to someone else.
“Benny? Had a son named Benny. He died in prison. Which is where you’ll end up, you keep hanging around with the likes of Jorge. He’s my son, but he ain’t got no common sense.”
“I ain’t—“
“Don’t say ain’t. It ain’t a word.” The woman snickered.
“Where’s your stash?” Juice stood in the doorway, a bottle in one hand and a gun in the other.
“Don’t be carrying that gun around in the house. You’ll shoot your foot off.”
“Mama, I need a fix bad. I done killed one of Barrera’s dudes. He’s gonna send somebody else after me. I gotta get my money and get out of here.”
“You killed a guy over drugs and then you come to my house?” Benny thought the woman would fall over, her eyes and mouth got so big. She looked like the fish, all puffy eyed, mouth working in and out to breathe.
“I had no place to go. I just need a little time. Just enough time to get what’s mine. I’ve got it all set up. I’ve got a meeting tonight. But first I need a hit, just a little, Mama.”
Maricela slapped some barbecued chicken on a plate and slammed it down in front of Benny. She stuck both hands on her hips and giving him a hard stare. “Eat.”
The gray, greasy looking chicken had fat, white and thick, around the edges. Benny swallowed hard. He hadn’t eaten since the hot dog the night before. He grasped the drumstick in shaking hands. It didn’t taste too bad. Not bad at all. He washed it down with water and ate more.
“Mama!” Juice screamed.
