STEAL A BABY
“I’ve got it all planned out,” Manuelo said, reaching for a Coors Light. He sat at the kitchen table, such as it was, looking at her with red eyes that told Rosy he’d been doing more than just having a few beers with the muchachos.
“I thought of it on the way home.”
She didn’t respond, too tired to speak. It’s been weeks since his last “forgetfulness,” but, still she felt bruised inside, past the muscles and the tendons, even past the bone. Deep down, she experienced an aching bruise that blackened her mood and buried her day.
The other seamstresses noticed it immediately.
“Aeii,” said Paloma, “you must go to the Los Arboles and get Senor Paz to mix you up some herbs.”
But Rosy didn’t go. She couldn’t face leaving her routine -- home, work, home, shop, and home -- to get a cure. So now she sat in silence, slightly drooping over -- even though last night she slept a full five hours. She gazed at Manuelo and wondered if this were still part of the dream. Or if maybe it had ended, and this was actually happening. She wasn’t sure.
“It’s so simple,” Manuelo told her with a flourish. “Really simple. You tell Mama and Tio that you’re pregnant. You’ve always been a pretty good faker, verdad?” He took another gulp, so that his skinny Adam’s apple moved up and down. The protruding lump was highlighted by his sleeveless, ribbed T-shirt.
“Then, just stay away from the street as much as possible and don’t go kickin’ it at any parties. That should beeasy, too. I mean when’s the last time you went to a baile with me, huh?”
Manuelo was so excited now he had to get up and move the energy around the room. He felt electric. In fact, he felt like all those smart guys must have felt when they figured out how to land on the moon.
“Oh, Rosy, Rosy, now it’s all so simple. Check it out. We’ll get you some pillows. You know, first a small one, then one that’s bigger. And some baggy clothes. What do they call the clothes for the embarazada?”
“Maternity.”
“Right, right, that’s it. Just like you taught me. We’ll get some really big maternity clothes, and like that. Nobody will know, not even Chico, the lying sack of shit.”
Thinking about Chico, much less saying his name, summoned adark cloud that seemed to force its way into the tiny kitchen space. “Man, when I think about all that fucking time sitting behind them bars, while that puta madre was on the outside ... .”And then, as quickly as his black mood came, it disappeared on the brightness of the plan.
Rosy wanted to ask a question, but instead she put her head into herhands, which rested on her elbows beside two bowls of mostly eaten cereal from this morning.
“And see, you look kinda sick anyways, so that’s gonna work for us, too.”
He finished the beer with another loud gulp, then threw the dead soldier at the trash can, so that it rolled off of its fellows and onto the cut linoleum floor.
“Then, Rosy, my sweet Rosita, then it gets real good. That’s when all of my skill comes in. Now listen, Rosy, this is the best part.”
She looked up at him and he saw that she was as much a part of this as he was. She wanted to escape “the life.”“We’re gonna steal a little baby boy. You know, I was thinkin’ about it on the way home, and I thought maybe you’d want a baby girl. I guess that would be OK with me. But, you know, we got others to think of as well. Like Chico. That hijo de puta might not make me a veterano if it was just a stinkin’ little girl. With a boy, maybe he’ll think he’s got a future soldado.”
His grin revealed a bright silver tooth, directly in front.. He threw her a kiss, with his lips only, not using his hand.
“So, Rosy, what do you think?”
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