Chills & Thrills: Three Novel Box Set (33 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

MIGUEL CLOSED HIS BIBLE AND GLANCED OUT THE SMALL 
window of his airplane seat. All he could see was dense fog. The plane hit a pocket of turbulence, and Miguel fingered the cross around his neck. Flying wasn't one of his favorite experiences.

He was glad to be going home, though. Finished with school, he was now ready to go to work for the church and for God. The thought thrilled him.

He would be going to work for St. Peter's and in time he knew that he would be bringing God's message to the masses. His only regret was that he would now be so far from his dear sister. He thought about her often. Even though they still communicated through letters, and occasionally by telephone, it never seemed enough. Although there were no bloodlines between them, she was his sister in every sense of the word. In Miguel's mind, after God and the church, Bella was next in line.

He still remembered the stricken look on her face when his mother and her father had told them they would be going away to school. Bella had stared in disbelief and total shock at her father. Javier had broken Isabella's heart. Miguel had made many attempts to persuade her to forgive her father and make peace within her family. Although forgiveness was at the top of his code of ethics, he could not in any way judge his sister for her anger.

As his flight descended into Guadalajara, he prayed for a safe landing and for guidance in the work he was about to do there. He would have a few days at home with his family before traveling a few hundred miles south to St. Peter's Church, a small church and rectory. He realized how important his work would be, and how much he could affect the people.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

HECTOR AND ALEJANDRO STRUTTED THROUGH THE DRUG
-infested area off Pico and Hoover. The respect they were gaining with the younger boys in the ‘hood was apparent. Talk of the money these two were making had become a hot topic for the young gang members. No longer little boys, they were big men on the block. They were supplying the blacks in Watts, the Asians in Little Korea, and anyone else interested in their product. The only people they didn't supply were their own.

When they began this venture, Alex made Hector promise they would never corrupt their own people. However, that was only part of their reasoning. Bigger, smarter thugs than themselves already owned the Pico, Hoover and surrounding areas. They realized that in their line of work, it wouldn't be too cool to cut in on anyone else's territory.

The stench of raw meat and urine hung in the air on Olympic Avenue. Alex couldn't wait until they had enough money to get out of the hellhole they'd called home for so many years. They'd only moved once during that time and he never understood why or questioned it.

It was right after his mother had returned from her only trip to Mexico to visit friends. She'd been so happy about going. But the day she came back, something of the sparkle in her eyes was gone and he never saw it return. They moved that day, to another small house only a few miles away.

Usually, his precocious, curious nature would have manifested itself into a lot of questions. But his instinct had told him not to push her — that something painful must have occurred for her to make such a radical change. She told him she was out of money, and that the rent on the other house was less. He didn't argue, but he also had the feeling that she was lying. His poor mother worked her fingers to the bone to keep them going, and Alejandro was determined to give her a better life.

"Hey, man, you know what I hear?" Hector said as they stopped to buy a pack of cigarettes.

"No, what did you hear?" Alex asked. His hair was slicked back and he was wearing a new pair of Levis he bought with the money they'd been earning. He'd been squirreling away most of the money underneath his mattress and told his mother he was working at a McDonald's in Brentwood, and she had believed him. He'd kept it from her all summer and now well into the school year. He'd been able to convince her that he worked after school, which in a sense he did. He was also now making top grades and working toward his plan of going on to college.

"I hear they got great parties down at USC. You know chicks with big tatas." Hector motioned with his hands cupped in front of his chest.

Alex pushed him. "Right, like a bunch of fraternity boys are going to let a couple of spics like us into their party. You're crazy."

"Nah, we'll dress up real sweet and all."

"Where we gonna get the threads?"

"We got some money now. Let's spend some of it."

"Uh-uh. Won't work." Alex shook his head, surprised by his friend's brazen attitude.

"I know one sure way we'd get in."

"What's that?"

Hector held up a small vial of cocaine.

"Put that away, you idiot." Alex slapped his hand down. "You want to get busted or what?"

"Oh, come on. There's no cops around here. Even if there was, they wouldn't bother us."

Alex knew he was right, but he didn't like him flashing the stuff in front of children and mothers. And he didn't want his mother to hear about it, either. "You really think that stuff'll get us into a frat party?"

“Are you kidding? The gringos love it. My bro turned us onto the good stuff, man. Those frat boys will welcome us with open arms into their fiestas. We'll get more 
chicas
 than we ever imagined."

Alex blushed at the thought of women. Hector always talked about women and having sex with them. It embarrassed Alex, because he'd never done anything other than kiss a girl. Oh, he talked the talk, but so far, he hadn't walked the walk. He knew how uncool it would be if anyone knew the truth. Women scared him half to death.

"Who knows, bro, this may be your big night," Hector said, slapping him on the back.

"Up yours.”

“I'm jokin', man. So come on. You in?”

"Okay, but if we get our asses kicked I know who to blame."

"No problem."

*****

ALEX PUT ON A WHITE SILK SHIRT WITH HIS NEW JEANS
.

His mother hadn't come home yet, so he was able to get out of the house without her wondering where the new clothes had come from. He wrote her a note, saying he'd gone to the library to study. That would please her.

He looked much older than his eighteen years with his hair slicked back and his golden skin. He looked at himself in the mirror and liked what he saw. Alex especially liked his eyes. “Amber,” his mother called them, “like your father's.” All Alex knew about him was that he was some great man, and that he died saving some people from a building during a big earthquake. He never understood why his mother didn't date or try to find someone else, but he always respected that. In a way, he was glad, because he always had her full attention.

"Hey, you ready, man? Come on."

Alex could see Hector through the reflection in the mirror standing behind him. He wanted to laugh but he knew it would hurt his friend's feelings. Hector wore a light blue silk shirt with wide lapels, and a navy polyester jacket and a pair of dark jeans. The gold chain around his neck made him look like a pimp from ten years earlier. "Hey, you look good.”

"Yeah, I know, man. Chicks love this stuff. I'm looking hot. Gonna get me some good looking white girls tonight.”

“Right,” Alex replied, thinking his friend would get nothing more than his ass kicked looking like he was going to a Halloween party.

When they arrived at fraternity row, driving their low-rider Chevy, they decided it would be wise to park on a different street after seeing the Mercedes, BMW's, and other fancy cars.

The first house they came to had a bunch of people out front drinking beers and dancing. Everybody looked blonde and light skinned. A couple of the girls glanced their way and laughed. The fair-haired guys they were dancing with flipped them off. Uneasy about their reception, Alex convinced Hector to keep on walking down the row.

The houses on the street were large and magnificent. They all boasted perfectly manicured lawns with ivy growing up the sides of their brick walls, leading to the second story windows. Alex's mother had spoken of the homes she used to clean looking like these. Alex knew this was the type of home he would one day soon buy for his mom. She deserved this kind of luxury.

“Can you believe this? Look at these places, man,” Hector whispered, not wanting to appear in the least impressed.

“I'll have a house bigger than all of these someday.”

“Yeah, man,” Hector replied grabbing himself. “You and me both.”

About halfway down the row, they stopped in front of the crummiest looking house. The lawn was covered with beer cans scattered all around and the paint was chipping off its walls. It was the sore thumb of the block.

There was a group of guys out front with a couple of girls hanging around. The sweet aroma of marijuana wafted into the night air. One of the guys on the front porch appeared to be doing a ridiculous imitation of The Beastie Boys as the stereo in the background blasted out “Fight for Your Right.” It looked like the party was just getting started.

"Man, this looks like our kind of fiesta," Hector said strutting up to where the group was sitting.

Alex walked coolly behind Hector, his head held high, hands shoved in his pockets like he owned the place, even though he wasn't too sure about this whole venture.

"Hey, man, name's Hector. What's yours?" Hector asked extending his hand out to a guy with a big nose and medium length blonde hair.

"
Me llamo Jay
."

The group giggled.

"Cool. This here's my friend Alex."

Alex let out a clear, "Hi."

“Excuse me, but were you guys invited?" a redheaded girl asked.

"We're about to be," Hector replied.

"Really? And why is that, dude?" asked a guy with offensive acne and long brown hair.

“'Cause man, we got something you want,” Hector said, pulling out the small vial of coke. Everyone's eyes grew large, as a cloud of silence swept through the crowd. The guy named Jay reached out to grab the vial. Hector slapped his hand away. "Uh-uh. I don't believe we've been officially invited yet."

"You got any more of that stuff?" Jay asked.

"Do we have any more of this stuff?" Hector asked, sarcastically rolling his eyes at Alex. Alex noticed he was trying hard to conceal his accent from these kids, but it wasn't working.

"We've got plenty of it," Alex interrupted. All the kids turned to gaze upon him.

"Well then, I guess you guys are official guests of the ΣĖ for the evening. Let our house be yours.”

An hour later, there were at least a hundred eighteen-and- nineteen-year-old sweaty men and women crammed into the place. Rumor traveled quickly out on the row that a couple of Mexican dudes at the Sigma Epsilon house were selling some high-grade powder.

Alex sat in Jay's room drinking a Coke. Jay was boasting about being the president of the house. Hector was downstairs, making connections with kids buying drugs.

"So, Alex, isn't it?" Jay asked. He cracked open another beer and sat down on a red velour sofa. "Where you getting your stuff?"

The pizza faced kid leaned in and Alex gave him a dirty look.

"Back off, Stein," Jay said and the kid sat back in his chair.

"I really can't say."

“I see. You're dealing with some power?"

Alex lied, knowing it was Hector's brother who helped them get the drugs. "Yeah, the biggest."

"Huh. Well you know that this stuff is becoming pretty popular around campus."

"Apparently so," Alex replied, looking around at the posters of naked women on the wall and the red light that cast a glow throughout the room. The lava lamp sitting on the desk hummed like an aquarium.

"I'm a businessman like you, Alex, and I thought, you guys willing, we could do business together." Jay smoothed back his greasy hair.

"Specifically?" Alex asked. He kind of liked this new sensation of power. This white boy was actually showing him some respect.

"You guys sell to me, and I get it out to the kids here. You could make a killing."

"Sounds interesting."

"I bet it does. I can increase your beaner pockets by hundreds."

Alex looked at him, astonished at what Jay called him. After being in elementary school with white kids, he'd vowed to never let anyone call him names again. He felt the anger boil as he stood up to leave, not wanting to lose his cool. It was clear that Alex was outnumbered.

"Hey, man, where you going? What's up? I thought we were talking biz."

Alex grabbed Jay by his shirt collar — his cool gone. "Yeah, man, we were talking 
biz
, until you called me something I don't let anyone call me."

Jay looked stunned, not knowing what to say. Then he let out a nervous laugh and said, "Oh you mean beaner? Jeez man, I thought you guys liked that. I figured you all call each other that."

Alex let go of his shirt and gave him a little shove. "We call ourselves whatever we like. You will address me as either Alexander or Mr. Peña. You got it?"

"Yeah, sure man, no problem. I didn't mean anything by it." Jay wiped the sweat off his forehead, and retreated to his chair.

"Good, I didn't think so." Alex relaxed and sat back down in the chair. “Now, how much product do you think you could buy?"

"A couple of kilos monthly,” Jay replied, his voice still sounding shaky.

"Uh-huh, and you're sure about this?" Alex studied him.

"Yeah, man. Kids here love this stuff," Jay answered, holding up a small mirror with five lines of cocaine on it. “Want some?"

"No thanks." Alex never touched the stuff. Jay passed the mirror back and forth to his brothers in the room. Alex could see the euphoric effect developing immediately as their eyes glazed over. "When will you be ready to buy?"

"You provide the goods next week for me, and I'll come up with the cash."

"Where you going to get that kind of money?"

"Shit, man, my old man's in the jewelry business. He puts money in my account all the time. I got plenty. Don't you worry about it.”

Alex couldn't believe that a twenty-year-old could get the kind of money it would take to buy that much cocaine, and from his own father, too. But he didn't question it. He decided to take a chance and call his bluff.

"All right, I know we're getting a decent supply in on Tuesday. I can deliver to you Wednesday, as long as you have the cash."

"No sweat, man. Can you meet me at the Jack In The Box on Vermont? I don't want you bringing it here. It might look a little suspicious, if you know what I mean."

Alex knew what he meant. He meant it would look funny for a couple of Mexicans to come into their white-bread fraternity in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon.