The Plug's Wife (18 page)

Her grandfather took a chance on Pino Alvarez, the neighborhood criminal and smuggler, to keep his end of the bargain and get his granddaughter to a safe place in America.  Her grandfather was willing to do anything to keep his granddaughter alive.

The plan was for her to leave Cuba in the thick of the night.  Cubans seemed to think that the streets were paved in gold in America. 

              She spent the hour before leaving with Pino with her grandparents.

“Shhh, abuelita,” she comforted her grandmother. 

“Voy a estar bien. Voy a verlos a todos de nuevo ... lo prometo.” 
I’m going to be fine.  I will see you all again…I promise
.  She buried her face in her grandmother’s bosom.  Her grandmother sobbed while she held onto her tightly.

“Dios te ha bendecido con el coraje, algo que nadie te puede quitar. Usa tu prudencia. Que Jesucristo te proteja, aunque nunca te vuelva a ver.”
God has blessed you with heart, something no one can ever take from you. Use your gift wisely.  May Jesus Christ protect you, even if I never see you again
.  Her grandmother said the words through her sobs.

“Abuela, no parecen ser así! Nos vemos pronto! Te prometo, nunca dejes que ninguno de abajo.”
Grandma, don't speak like that! I will see you soon! I promise, I will never let any of you down
.  She broke from her grandmother’s embrace and walked over to her weeping little sister and hugged her tightly.

“Voy a enviar para usted,” she whispered. 
I will send for you
.  Her sister’s body shook with sobs. 

Her younger brother approached with a solemn expression on his face.  Sniffling back tears, Summer playfully punched Juliano in his bony arm.

“Ya me voy, espero que seas el hombre de la familia.”
Since I'm leaving, I expect you to be the man of the family now.
They had a running joke between them that she was the
real
man of the house because of how many times she used her gun to protect their family.  Her brother chuckled as he swiped roughly at the tears welling up in his eyes.  Men are not supposed cry.

She never said goodbye to her grandfather.  He refused to come out of his room to see her off.  Summer, in turn, refused her grandmother’s instructions to go to him and say goodbye.  The old man had thrown her to the wolves practically. It was not something she could easily forgive or forget. 

When she arrived at the seaport, Pino Alvarez, an overweight grease ball with brown stained teeth, filthy clothes and dirty fingernails was the first to greet her.  Just the sight of him made her want to hurl.  She had threatened the dirty pervert numerous times.  He had tried for years to get at her sexually, but she always kept a big silver gun tucked away on her body. It was rumored that Summer also participated in vigilante killings and that her thirst for blood was insatiable.  That rumor alone kept Pino and his ilk at bay.

When she walked up with her skin gleaming, her small waist switching side to side and her perfect breasts sitting up on her chest, Pino couldn’t help but lick his lips hungrily. He couldn’t wait to take a bite out of her. 

She stopped in front of him, one hand on her hip.  In the other hand she held a small satchel of goodies her grandmother had packed.  The uncertainty in her eyes made Pino grin sinisterly.  He knew that he was in control this time.  He snatched her satchel and before she could get defensive, he began pilfering through it removing the things he wanted for himself.  Tossing it back in her face, he laughed. 

“Usted no es tan difícil hoy en día, ¿eh?”
You’re not as difficult today, huh?
he said slyly, licking his dry, cracked lips again like an animal ready to dine on its prey.  She tapped her foot hating the feeling of powerlessness that overwhelmed her. 

Pino made her spin around a few times while he surveyed her physical assets.  Then he called her close to him.  She scrunched her face at the odor emanating from his body.  He took his grubby, calloused hands and stuck them inside her shirt.  His hands felt like alligator skin against the delicate skin of her breasts.  Pino was breathing hard, fully aroused.  She swallowed the ball of anger that welled up inside of her throat.  He continued his exploration down south, examining just about every part of her genitalia with his disgusting hands before he was satisfied.  Her chest heaved as she endured his molestation.  She made a promise to herself that if she ever came back to Cuba or she ever ran into him again in life, she would torture him unmercifully before she killed him.  Imagining the heinous things she’d do to him was the only thing that got her through it.

“Va a ser un premio cuando llegues allí.”
You will be a prize when you get there. 
He wheezed when he was finished his perverted assault.  Then he pushed her into the large shipping container that would serve as her “boat to freedom.”  The rank smell—a mixture of sweaty armpits and fish was the first thing to hit her when she stumbled into the darkened vessel.  She stretched her eyes wide trying to get them to adjust to the darkness.  The only illumination was slim radiant beams of sunlight filtering through the tiny holes.  There was just enough oxygen inside for her to breathe.

With her heart constricting tightly in her chest, she found an empty spot on the dirty floor to get settled in.  She placed her half empty satchel on her lap and pulled her knees in close to her body.  Squinting, she finally got her eyes to focus enough to see other scared eyes watching her.  She immediately scanned her company.  Girls of all ages sat on the musky floors. She counted twenty-five of them in all, including herself.  She sat next to a bony girl who lay on her side facing the wall.  She’d noticed the girl because her body was curled into the fetus position instead of sitting upright like the other travelers. The girl seemed frail, coughing loudly every few seconds. She knew immediately that the girl had some type of serious illness.

“Si nos paramos por la Guardia Costera estadounidense y que está tosiendo así, van a oír su seguro y que todos serán devueltos.”
If we get stopped by the American Coast Guard and she is coughing like that, they will hear her for sure and we will all be sent back
.  One of the girls announced.  The girl got a few nods and groans of agreement from the others.

“Debemos presionar a salir. Quiero llegar a América. Voy a ser una famosa bailarina. Nada me detendrá.”
We should push her out.  I want to make it to America.  I am going to be a famous dancer.  Nothing will stop me.
Another girl said dreamily.  Another round of nods and moans of agreements echoed around the stale shipping container.  The girl lying on her side began coughing loudly again, barely able to catch her breath.

“Vamos a deshacernos de ella ahora!”
Let's get rid of her now!
The first girl yelled out. As she headed towards the sick girl, Lourdes stood up too.

“Déjala en paz.”
Leave her alone.
Lourdes’ voice was unsettlingly calm.  The troublemaker turned towards Lourdes with her eyes squinted into dashes.

“¿Quién crees que eres? La madrina de este barco? Vete a la mierda! 
Who do you think you are?  The godmother of this boat? Fuck you!
The girl spat and continued moving towards the sick girl.  Lourdes reached the troublemaker within seconds.  In the darkness, Lourdes could only make out the whites of her eyes and her square, buckteeth. 

              “No, yo no soy la madrina, sin embargo. Pero si no la dejas en paz, se llega a ver a Dios.” 
No, I'm not the godmother, yet. But if you don't leave her alone, you will get to see God
.  Lourdes replied, leveling her grandfather’s revolver at the girl’s head.  There was no more talk about removing the sick girl.  Halfway to the United States, the girl stopped coughing all together.  Lourdes was the only one to notice or care.  The girl was dead, curled like a snail under a heap of salt. 

Lourdes put her head down on her knees and hid her tears.  She didn’t know the girl enough to cry for her, but she couldn’t help but cry for what the girl represented.  Although chaotic and violent, her life in Cuba was all she’d known.  If she planned to survive in America, it would be survival of the fittest.  The rough movement inside of the vessel as it moved along the choppy Florida Straits gave Lourdes a sinking feeling in her gut.  She too would have to die before she could start a new life for herself in America.

**********************

              Summer’s lips trembled and her eyes filled with tears as the familiar scent—a mixture of redolent Cuban cigar smoke and eucalyptus scented aftershave—filled her nostrils.  Memories swirled around her head like the eye of a tornado.  She was usually able to get rid of them with a blink of an eye or some distraction, but having him there now, feeling the touch of his claw nailed hands had slammed Summer head first into reality’s wall. Her skin crawled just like it did the first time she smelled him and he touched her.  That day, still wild and confident, she fought like a feral cat but after he used his “methods” it wasn’t long before she surrendered.  Now, she felt like that fresh-off-the-boat helpless teenager again.  In a foreign land with no way out.  The vulnerability she felt from his presence made her stomach turn over and over. 

              “What’s the matter?  Cat got your tongue?” he asked, his voice like ice.  The rough boils on his face rubbed against her cheek and made her feel like vomiting.  She vomited for two days straight after the first time with him.  He was good at mental warfare.  In fact, it wasn’t until she met Jesse and experienced love for the very first time that she felt a sliver of happiness, albeit temporary. 

              “Remember when you first arrived in Florida?  So beautiful and young and mean as a pit-bull.  Of all of the girls, I knew you were special, so I chose you first.  I showed you how to be a woman myself.  The touching.  The fucking.  The sucking.  You learned it all from me.  You enjoyed every minute of it.  I didn’t leave that to the filthy strangers. Not you, Lourdes, my flower.  Instead of putting you on the streets like the others, I put you with the rich men—exclusive clients who treated you like a princess. I made sure you understood the value of the American dollar,” he told her.

Repulsed by his fondling, another wave of cramps gripped her stomach.

              “But you forgot…no?  You forgot what I told you about always paying me, no matter how far you got in life or from whom you made money selling your pussy.”

His vituperative words stabbed at her psyche.  Summer squeezed her eyes shut and prayed silently that her grandmother would stay sedated.  Having her family know what she had to do when she first arrived in America would be too shameful for her to handle.  Tears fell in streams down her cheeks.  The man pushed his hands further into her hair and clutched a handful of her slick curls tightly in his fist.  It was how he restrained her that first night.  He called it “taming her.”  The act was debilitating her now, forcing her to recall the ugliness of the past. 

              “When I gave you the name Summer Hammond, I told you it was a new identity to use for these jobs.  The real Summer crossed me and wound up dead.  It was a special name to me…just like you were once special to me.  You were supposed to use that name and identity to infiltrate the rich and make them trust you.  You did well at first with setting up Rex McKenzie. But then what happened?” he whispered harshly, yanking her head back.  Summer bit her bottom lip.  Didn’t he know who the fuck she was right now?  She was the boss!

              “I’ll remind you what happened.  You forgot who owned you went an fell in love. You slipped up big time.  I told you when I made you that you can only love money and me. Your abeulo gave you to me. Or did you fucking forget?” Summer opened her eyes, his face glaring at her like a hideous Halloween mask. 

              “When I heard you were getting married to Jesse Banks, I laughed to myself. How bold you became in this game.  You were always so strong willed, so smart. I even paid females to seduce him—have his child—follow him.  But nothing could stop you from loving him.  Each month, you paid towards your debt, but the money wasn’t enough.  I let you have your way until you got married.  You might as well have pulled the trigger on your husband yourself,” he continued mockingly. 

“You killed him when you decided to love him.”  Summer’s heart sank.  Her head pounded and one of her ears began to ring.

              “What did you do?” she asked through clenched teeth, her body trembling with emotion.  “What-did-you-do?” she rasped in a harsh whisper.

              “You know the answer already. You buried your husband, didn’t you? I could’ve killed you too, but I told them to spare you.  I’d rather keep you to myself than have you gone,” he answered honestly.  Summer’s legs went weak.  Her body began sliding down the wall she stood against. 

              She had caused Jesse’s murder after all!  She murdered the man she loved.  How could she have been so stupid?  How could she have ever thought she could pay them off and be free once and for all? 

              “Your debt to me will be repaid,” he sneered.  With that, he let her go.  Summer’s chest heaved and her eyes squinted into dashes.  If the crew was with her, he’d be a dead man.  But she had to keep a level head to protect her brother and sister from harm.