The Cartel (16 page)

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Authors: A K Alexander

BOOK: The Cartel
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"What was their reaction?"

 

"They didn’t see me."

 

“I don't understand."

 

Antonio explained to Javier what had occurred when he went to see Marta and his son.

 

"So you never spoke with them?"

 

"No."

 

"Now I understand why you have been so distracted. This, along with the Levine fiasco, must be very difficult to deal with. How have you remained sane?"

 

"I don't know, but I am going back to Los Angeles today, and I have decided to go and confront Marta."

 

"What about Lydia?"

 

"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. Marta may throw me out. I wouldn't be surprised if she hates me, but I have to see her again. She has to know how sorry I am. If there is any way I can make it up to her, I will."

 

"I wish you luck, my friend, I really wish you luck."

 

At that moment, Bella came running up to them. "
Tío
Antonio," she squealed with delight.

 

"Hello, sweetheart."

 

She climbed into his lap and gave him a big hug. A bittersweet mixture flowed through him. He thought of Rosa, who was close to Bella's age, and of his son, who was also around the same age. He questioned himself as to whether or not he was betraying his wife and daughters by desiring to know his son better.

 

But perhaps the real betrayal was to the woman he had lied to, and the son who had never known his father. He prayed that the answers would come to him soon.

 

*****

 

Antonio slept through the entire flight from Guadalajara to Los Angeles, his subconscious plagued by dreams of Marta and his son, and of Lydia and their two daughters.

 

A limousine picked him up, taking him to the Century City Plaza, where he checked into a tower suite.

 

After tipping the bellman who had brought up his bags and checked to see that all was in order, he closed the door behind him and rang for room service. "A gin and tonic, please. Yes, room 1274. Thank you."

 

When in the United States, Antonio was always very conscious of his accent, and he made sure to restrain himself from speaking any Spanish. Javier had once chided him about being embarrassed about his own nationality and culture.

 

"Embarrassed? Ha. Never. I know how much hatred the
gringos
have for us. And to get ahead in their country, you must play their filthy
gringo
games. If that means acting like a filthy
gringo
, then that is what I must do."

 

A knock on his door signaled the arrival of his drink. Again, he saw disrespect in the eyes of the boy who held both the drink and the bill. His pride made him leave a large tip.

 

"Marta, Marta, Marta," he whispered as he stood on the balcony, staring twelve stories below at the swimming pool. "What have I done? The agony I've put you through." He walked back into the room, leaving the sliding glass door open for the cool, spring breeze to flow. He sat on the bed and stared at the phone. He took the piece of paper with the number on it and fingered it, trying to decide whether he should call her or go there.

 

He had no idea what her reaction would be either way, so he picked up the phone and dialed Marta's number with trembling fingers. It rang three times, until a child's voice answered.

 

"Hello?"

 

Antonio froze. For the first time he was hearing the voice of his son. He closed his eyes and pictured the child he had seen a few weeks earlier.

 

"Hello?" he said again.

 

Antonio could not speak or move, and his son hung up the phone. His mind was made up for him at that moment. He had to go and see his boy. Tears formed in his eyes, tears that had accumulated from all the years he’d never known his son.

 

*****

 

Marta was tired from her day’s work, which seemed
more brutal than usual. The foreman yelled all day long for the sewers to work faster.

 

No matter how much Elisa harped about her using that money Antonio sent each month, Marta was determined to save this money for Alejandro. Her dream of sending him off to college one day could only come true with that money. If Antonio did only one thing for his son, it would be to provide Alejandro with an education.

 

Alex was a good student, and since Marta had switched him back to the neighborhood school where the majority of the students were Hispanic, he improved day by day—learning his arithmetic and how to read. Each day, she thanked the Lord for blessing her with such a beautiful, intelligent son.

 

As she made
menudo
for their supper, she glanced out the kitchen window to see Alex and Hector playing stickball.
I wish I could give him more. I wish he had a father. Maybe I should never have run from Mexico. My child has a right to a father, like any other boy
.

 

Marta's mind traveled back to the day she had seen Antonio's pregnant wife. Alex not only has a father out there but sisters or a brother and sister. Marta’s insecurities about keeping Alex away from his father weighed heavily on her mind. She felt selfish for preventing the boy from knowing him. Then she stiffened and thought about how selfish Antonio had been. She reassured herself that he had no right to her child, none at all. However, she knew that was wrong as well. As much as she tried to hate Antonio, she couldn’t.

 

The aroma of the
menudo
filled their small home. As Marta began making the tortillas, there was a tap on the front door.

 

"It's open, Alejandro." There was no response. "
Ay, niño.
Mama is too busy for your games today." There was another knock on the door. This time it was louder and more decisive. "Okay, okay, silly boy, I'm game." Marta opened the front door, expecting to catch Alejandro hiding behind the oak tree in the front yard. Instead, it was Antonio. She jumped back, feeling her jaw drop open as she let out a startled yelp. It was as if it were only yesterday. He looked the same: that regal stance, that chiseled face and those serene eyes, looking right into her. There he stood—Antonio Espinoza. She had dreamed about this day for years, but now that the day had come, she was at a loss for words. Her shaking hands covered her open mouth.

 

"Hello," Antonio said, finally breaking the silence.

 

"Hello," she uttered through her palms.

 

"May I come in and speak with you?"

 

"I don't know." She dropped her arms and shook her head.

 

"Please, Marta. Please, let me talk with you." His heart raced, studying her. He couldn’t force her to let him in, but standing there with her, seeing her—she hadn’t changed. She was more beautiful than he’d remembered.

 

“You can't stay long. We’re getting ready to eat." She didn’t know what else to say, how to respond or act.

 

"
We
, meaning your husband and son?"

 

"No. Only Alejandro and me. I’ve never married."

 

"Alejandro. A beautiful name."

 

"He is a beautiful child."

 

"I know."

 

"Well, this is my home. It is nothing like you're used to."

 

"It is lovely, Marta."

 

She took him through their small home. The old hardwood floors creaked beneath their shoes. They were clean but badly in need of repair. Their furniture was sparse and old, and the blue-and-white curtains had doubtless been hand-made. But the home was immaculate, and held a charm that only Marta could've given it.

 

She led Antonio into the family room, which appeared to also serve as a bedroom for Marta. The couch, shabby and lumpy, was a sofa bed from where he sat down on the sofa, he could see the hallway leading to a bathroom and his son’s bedroom.

 

Marta saw him looking at Alex's room.

 

"Would you like to see it?"

 

"Yes, very much."

 

"Go ahead."

 

He peered into his son’s bedroom. It was the one room that was bright and cheerful. There were posters of Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck on the walls. A small rocking chair sat in the corner next to the closet. There was a large wooden box filled to the brim with toys, and his stuffed animals lounged on the red comforter that covered his twin-size bed. There were several children's books on top of a white wicker dresser.

 

The toys that filled it and the colors of the room made up for its small size. He thought of Rosa and Felicia's rooms at home, which were three times larger. His daughters had toys galore, but he saw that his son was far from neglected, and this pleased him.

 

"He likes Mickey Mouse," Marta remarked.

 

"I see. Has he been to Disneyland?"

 

"No. I've been wanting to take him, but with work and everything… I'm saving our money as well."

 

"I understand."

 

"Would you like some coffee?"

 

"Yes, please."

 

Marta went back into the kitchen, while Antonio lingered in Alejandro's doorway. When he turned around to see Marta walking from the kitchen into the main living area and setting down two cups of coffee, the light came through the window and caught the ends of her long, dark hair, making them glisten.

 

He walked over and sat down in the chair across from her. She smiled, and he knew that she felt as uncertain about this meeting as he was. Yet in an odd way it felt comfortable being together again. The love they’d felt for each other hadn’t dissipated over time. It couldn’t have.

 

"Does my son know about me?"

 

"Not much."

 

"I see. You’ve been saving the money I sent you?"

 

"For his education."

 

"That’s good. Do you need more?"

 

"No, thank you. We do fine."

 

"I've missed you," he blurted. “I would have helped you with the baby. Why didn't you come to me?" If only she had come to him.

 

She paused before answering. “Is that what you would have wanted, Antonio? Come to you and your wife to tell you both the news that I was going to have your baby. And what would you have done?"

 

"Helped you."

 

"Helped me
how
? By seeing that I got out of the country and out of your life. Helped me. I didn't want your help. I did what needed to be done without you."

 

"You know I never would have caused you so much pain intentionally."

 

"But you
did
. And you
did
do it intentionally, regardless of what you say now. You knew I loved you. You made promises to me—promises that you knew you could never keep. You lied to me. And your kind of help is not what my son and I need. The only reason I even accept your money each month is to fulfill a dream I have of seeing Alejandro graduate from college one day.”

 

"My love for you was never a lie." She was being foolish. How could she doubt his love? “Your pride stands in your way.”

 

"You expect me to believe you about loving me? I may have been naive then, but I am not ignorant now. And as for my pride, all I can say is, if you call honesty pride, then you are the one who is ignorant and shameful."

 

"I am not lying to you. I did love you. I still do," he whispered."I've always loved you. You have to understand who I am, and what I represent. I could not hurt my children in such a way."

 

"But you did hurt your child. Your son. Do you think it has been easy for Alejandro to grow up without a father? Do you think this has been easy for me? I am both his mother and his father.”

 

"The truth is, I felt scared and trapped. I loved you, yes; but I also loved my wife. I wanted to come to you, be with you. But by the time I came to my senses, you had already left, and I had no idea you were pregnant. If I had known, I would have searched for you."

 

"But you did find me, and you found out about the baby."

 

"Yes, but by that time I realized that you hated me."

 

"I did."

 

The tears in Marta's eyes betrayed her. She had never hated him. Hatred was not part of who she was. "Did you really?" He leaned in close to her and touched her hand.

 

"You bastard." She looked down at the floor and back up again. Tears flooded her eyes. He kissed her gently on the cheek.

 

"You bastard," she repeated, balling her fists up.

 

"I am so sorry I ever hurt you. I would give my life if I could take away the pain I have caused. I would do anything for you. I have suffered, and thought about you, and longed for you every day since you left. You are the only one who has ever seen my soul. I know now what a mistake I made, letting you go out of my life. I am not happy, Marta."

 

"I am sorry. But you made your choice long ago."

 

"There is still time."

 

"There is no time."

 

"Listen. Please. Hear me out." She protested. He placed a finger over her lips. "Life passes quickly each day, too quickly. You are the one who made happiness a reality for me. I want you back in my life. I want you and Alejandro to come back to Colombia with me. I want you to be my wife."

 

"You are not thinking."

 

"No, it's true. I didn't plan this, but as soon as I saw you again, I knew."

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