Down Mexico Way

"He wants me to translate to you. My English is not so good," he said with a frown of doubt.

"Your English is good enough. It's better than it was two weeks ago. How is that?" I asked.

He frowned with concentration and said, "La escuela."

"Oh. You're going to school. At night?" I asked.

He nodded. "Si. At night."

For the next three hours, Emile related to me all the things I wanted to know about the two of them. They were in fact cousins, and they were from the area of Monterey, Mexico. They came to the United States when Emile was twenty-five and he was only sixteen. He showed me the green card that bore the name of 'Jose Luis'. It wasn't his name, but he admitted his real name was 'Jose'. He also admitted the same green card had been used for at least a dozen other immigrants at various times.

I asked Emile how they arrived from Mexico. He repeated my question in Spanish to Jose and the two of them held a brief discussion before Emile began to translate a phrase at the time his explanation. It seemed they had hitch-hiked their way from Monterey to just south of the border. By night, they snuck across to the American side, wading the Rio Grande, and then hiding among brush and bushes until they were some distance from the danger of being discovered by the patrols.

Once they cleared the edge of the border city limits, they began to run through the dark, keeping within sight of the major highway running north, yet far enough away not to be spotted by traffic. Together, they ran every step under cover of darkness, resting and hiding by day. The journey from the border took them four days to accomplish. It was a testament to their physical condition and endurance. They had neither food nor drink to sustain them along the way.

I inquired about the families they left behind. Emile explained their fathers were brothers, one a judge and the other a law enforcement official from a town near Monterey. Their parents had encouraged them to leave Mexico. The climate there was changing; Mexico was being overrun by narcotics and arms dealers.

When I asked if they did drugs of any kind, they emphatically denied it and they both voluntarily exposed their limbs for my inspection. Their innocence in thinking this was evidence enough to prove their claims told me all I needed to know in that regard. Both admitted to liking beer and scotch for their recreational and social relaxation. Emile smoked cigarettes, but Jose only occasionally would smoke for social acceptance. I was satisfied with their answers and they won my respect and my sympathy for their cause in those few hours of conversation. I announced I had to go and stood up to go find my clothes.

"Cindy, there's something he wants you to know before you leave," Emile began by placing his hand on my arm. He glanced uneasily between the two of us. "He says he is in love with you. He wants to...propuso? How do you say? Marry him?Comprende?"

I was stunned. I began shaking my head. "No. No, Emile. Tell him I am honored, but no marriage. Tell him I care for him a great deal, but I will not marry him." I listened as Emile explained, and I heard his arguments in rebuttal.

"Emile, you have to make him understand. I'm too old to marry him. He wants a family and children. I can't have his children. Fuck, Emile! I can't even keep up with him in bed!" I admitted.

Emile laughed softly and looked at the floor for a moment. "He's...much man, eh?" he suggested slyly.

"Much," I agreed.

He smiled and slapped his cousin on the back as he tried to relate my comments and objections. They both laughed at my admission. Emile's face turned serious as he addressed me again.

"I want you to know, Cindy...I didn't know you before. I heard others talking about you. The things they said...I shouldn't listen to them. Can we be friends?"

I stepped closer and hugged him. "Weare friends, Emile. Thank you," I whispered to him. "I have to go now. I'll see you twomanana."

Jose followed me to his room where I redressed and handed him Emile's robe. He saw me to the back door and kissed me goodnight before I left.

*****

The following day at work, the three of us were laughing together over the broken bed incident. Others overheard us and asked what we were joking about. Emile looked at me uneasily.

I nodded at him while Jose just grinned silently at me. "Tell them, Emile."

He looked stunned for a moment. "You want me to tell them?" he asked with shock.

"Emile, I'm not ashamed of my relationship with Jose. Do you see how he looks at me?" I asked nodding at his cousin. "He loves me. How could I be ashamed of his love? Tell them what happened."

He began to stammer at first, even in his native tongue. Several men gathered around as he tried to describe what he had heard and seen. Suddenly, his voice became excited and he clapped his hands together loudly to mimic the sound of the collapsing bed. The men were silent, unsure whether to believe him or not.

He looked at me for confirmation. "Si, la weda? Isn't that so?" he asked with an excited expression. I nodded and looked down smiling at the floor. He rushed on explaining how he found us when he opened the door and turned on the light. "Naked...eh, Cindy? Right?" I nodded again and smiled.

"Yes, but Cindy, what were you two doing?" Antonio teased with his eyes twinkling.

"What do you think, Antonio? We were fucking," I said plainly. The entire group burst into laughter. They slapped Jose on the back and dispersed, shaking their heads as they wandered away.

Emile gave me a smile. "You told them," he said shaking his head in disbelief as he, too, walked away. Jose leaned over the bar and brushed my cheek with his lips before he followed Emile.

Only Antonio remained. "That was smart, Cindy. You have their respect now. You are one of us. You're not just the white girl; you're Jose's woman."

*****

For over two years, I remained Jose's woman. We celebrated his twenty-first birthday together at the club where we had our first date. I gave him a party and everyone came, even our boss.

During those brief years, Emile, Jose, and I were almost always together. Emile learned to speak English fluently; Jose did not. Emile and I were as close if not closer than Jose and I were, except we were not lovers. We were best friends instead. Even when Jose was not present, Emile and I would spend time together, talking, going to the park, or the zoo, museums, concerts, whatever we could find to do together.

Some nights, Jose would fall asleep and I would be suffering from insomnia. I would hear Emile in his room, watching television or listening to music while he read. I would slip from Jose's bed and tap on Emile's door. He would let me in and we would talk for hours.

Or, I would curl up next to him and watch television until I fell asleep. Jose would eventually come looking for me, and Emile would tell him not to wake me. Jose would climb onto the bed with us and the three of us would sleep together; me, between the two of them.

But then, just before his twenty-second birthday, two things happened to change everything for the three of us. A new girl was hired at our work, a young girl named Amanda. She wasn't beautiful; she was rather plain, with short reddish-hair and freckles.

I didn't care for Amanda very much. She was friendly enough, but I had the sense she was selfish and clingy, looking for ways to better herself at the expense of others. She asked one night if the three of us were going out together after work. When I said yes, she invited herself along. She rode with me, while Emile and Jose drove Emile's classic mustang.

When Amanda saw his car, she made a big show of admiring it. She spent the evening monopolizing Emile's time on the dance floor and she eventually asked him to drive her home at the end of the evening.

The following day, Jose again broached the subject of marriage with me. I had Emile explain to him again the reasons for my rejection of his proposal. He was terribly hurt and confused, so sure that I would relent now that he was of age. Amanda listened in on our discussion and she approached me later.

"Why don't you marry, Jose?" she asked. I refrained from explaining my reasons to her. I didn't feel it was her business to ask.

"Is there something between you and Emile?" she pressed with suspicion.

I frowned. "Yes, there is, Amanda. It's called friendship." I let the subject drop there.

Jose left town for nearly two weeks. He went back to Monterey to visit his family, but he didn't tell me he was leaving. He left it to Emile to inform me. Emile seemed to be less available as well. It was an uncomfortable time in all our lives.

One evening when Jose was still away and Amanda was off, Emile and I decided to go for drinks after work. I was never so stunned as when he said to me, "I'm thinking of getting married, Cindy."

"What?" I asked in disbelief. "Who? When did this happen?" He said nothing for a moment and realization began to sink in.

"No. Don't tell me. Amanda," I ventured. "Why, Emile? You hardly know her."

He sighed heavily. "I know it's stupid. I had sex with her without protection. She thinks she's pregnant."

The news was devastating to me. It was like a bomb going off in my world.

"Emile, don't be stupid! You haven't been seeing her for even two weeks. She cannot possibly know she's pregnant that soon. No woman can. It isn't possible."

He shook his head. "She says she's sure."

"Then, she's a liar!" I snapped. "But, I can tell you this, if you keep on fucking her without protection, shewill be pregnant. She'll make sure of it."

"Why are you so angry?" he asked looking puzzled.

"Because, you of all people should know better, Emile. You're not that stupid. She's setting you up." I paused before I added, "This isn't the first time she's done this sort of thing, you know. She got pregnant by another guy and she had the baby. The second he said he didn't want to marry her, she gave the baby up for adoption."

"I know. But, this is different. I'm going to do the right thing. I'm going to marry her."

I could see there was no arguing with him. He had made up his mind and only time would tell which of us was right.

*****

Jose returned a few days later. He brought me a present; it was a twenty-four-karat gold chain from Mexico. He said there wasn't time to purchase an engagement ring. I told him again there would be no engagement and I returned the necklace to demonstrate my point.

Ten weeks passed. Emile publicly announced Amanda was pregnant and that they would be married right away. I had been right. She was not pregnant when she first claimed to be, but now, the damage was done. I refused to attend their marriage ceremony and I refused to go to their house-warming party.

Two more weeks passed. Emile announced he was taking his new wife to Mexico to meet his family. I tried talking to Amanda, explaining to her the cultural differences and what his family would expect of her while she was there. She insisted she understood. Jose again returned to Mexico, as well. He accompanied them on their trip.

When they returned, everything had changed. Emile approached me at the bar with Jose on his heels.

"Cindy, Jose wants me to ask you one last time if you will marry him," Emile said.

I shook my head. "You know better, Emile. I can't."

He took a deep breath and said, "Well, then you should know something. If you say 'no' this time, he's leaving. He's going back to Mexico and he won't be back. Not ever."

I was speechless and I felt as if I was being pressured to do something that every fiber of my being told me was wrong. I was presented a choice to marry him, or give him up forever. I balked at both choices.

"But, why? Why would he leave?" I asked in disbelief.

"Will you marry him?" Emile demanded in a stern voice. He wouldn't look me in the eye.

I felt there was more than was being said. "No!" I answered sharply. "Now, you tell me why he is leaving."

Emile looked disheartened. "When he went home a few months ago, he saw an old girlfriend. He loves you, Cindy."

"And? He slept with her while he was there?" I asked.

"He was upset that you turned him down. Yes, they slept together."

"How old is she?" I asked. I cleared my throat and looked away.

"She's only eighteen. She's pregnant with his baby."

"Then that's that. Tell him to go to Mexico and marry the girl." I turned away and began wiping bar glasses.

Jose left the following morning, and for the next five months, I watched as Amanda carried Emile's baby to term. When it was born, I didn't go to the hospital to see it.

When the child was about two months old, I went to work one day to find Jose working there again. Emile explained he would only be there for two weeks. Jose asked him to translate on his behalf.

"He wants you to know he has a daughter now. He named her Cynthia Judith. He wants me to tell you she's named for you."

"That's not my name. It isn't Cynthia Judith," I said quickly.

"He knows. The Cynthia is for you. He wanted me to tell you he will always love you, and he will think of you every time he calls his daughter's name."

"Tell him 'congratulations' for me, and thank him for the honor," I said as I turned away again.

I quit my job with no notice that night. I never went back to it, and I never saw Jose again. He went back to Mexico, his wife and child, and to my knowledge, he never returned to the states.

*****

Two years later, I opened my front door to find Emile standing on my porch with a beautiful toddler in his arms. He flashed me a smile.

"Emile! Oh, my goodness! Who do we have here?" I asked as I invited him inside. "Mom! We have company...you remember Emile... and Amanda. Where's Amanda?" I asked looking at him expectantly. He shook his head.

"Yes! I remember. Is this your baby, Emile?" she asked. He nodded and set the child on the floor at my mother's feet. "He's a beautiful baby!" she proclaimed.

It began a long conversation that lasted through the afternoon. Mom finally left and we moved outside to the children's swing-set to entertain his son while we talked.

At last he spoke of his marriage. "I'm thinking of moving back to Mexico, Cindy. Amanda and I are finished. She's already living with someone else."

"I'm sorry, Emile. I hadn't heard. What will you do now?"

He shrugged. "Go to Mexico and file for divorce."

"Why Mexico? This is your home now, isn't it?" I asked.

"I want to go away. In Mexico, Amanda can't hurt me. The laws there will protect us... me and my son. I came here to see you for a reason, Cindy. I want to ask you something." He paused for a moment before looking me in the eye. "Will you go with me?"

"To Mexico?" I asked in shock. "Why would you want me to go with you? And, how would Amanda hurt you if you and the baby stayed here?"

He sighed. "It's a long story, Cindy. Before I explain, I'm asking you to marry me. I know you loved me once. I'm hoping you still do."

I jumped to my feet and swept the child up in my arms. I brushed the dirt from his hands and set him off in another direction away from the mischief he was eyeing.

"I don't know what you mean, Emile."

"You do know what I mean. It was all a mistake from the beginning. You and Jose. Me and Amanda. You never loved him, and I never loved her. You were in love with me all along, only I didn't know it until the night I told you I was going to marry Amanda. You said I was being stupid and I was. I thought it was too late to do anything about any of it."

"How did you know?" I asked quietly.

"When I saw the look on your face. I should've known before that. You never even considered marrying my cousin. Not once. When you heard me say I was going to marry her, it destroyed you. And, it destroyed me once I thought about all those nights we spent together. You spent more time in my bed, in my arms, than you did his. I never even kissed you."

"Did he know?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No. I don't think anyone knew. Hell, by the time I figured it out, it was too late. Amanda was already pregnant." He paused. "Did you know that you were the reason I went to school to learn English? Or, that the reason I didn't like you when you first started dating Jose was because I was jealous of him? The night you two broke the bed, I saw you with him, and I wanted to tear you out of his arms."

"Story of my life, Emile," I said half-heartedly.

"It isn't too late now. We could go away together; get married and be a family." I began to protest, but he stopped me. "Just hear me out first. There are things you don't know about me. Things I never told you."

"I doubt it will make any difference, Emile, but go ahead. I'm listening."

"For one thing, I'm a wealthy man, ninita." I laughed at his claim. "No, really. I am. I have something to show you," he said as he pulled a small book from his inside jacket pocket. "Take a look at this," he said as he thrust it into my hands.

I opened it and found numbers scratched in columns. "What is it?" I asked.

"It's a deposit book for my bank account in Mexico. Look at the numbers," he said looking serious.

"I can't read it. I don't understand it," I said as I handed it back to him.

He opened it in front of me and began to point out the recorded deposits. "This is one savings account alone. It's drawing over a million American dollars in interest per year, Cindy. I own property there. Lots of it."

My face must have gone pale. He began to laugh again.

"Cindy, didn't you ever pay attention to anything? Look at my watch. It's a platinum Rolex," he said extending his wrist for me to examine. "The cars. You've seen the storage sheds I keep here. They're full of vintage cars. Did you think I stole them?" he laughed even harder at the notion. "Did you really think I was just a peon? A wet-back, ninita?"

I began to sputter. "Emile, I don't understand. I believe you, but why were you working as a waiter here for god's sake?"

He shrugged indifferently. "It kept me busy and out of trouble. I'm actually an importer-exporter... American trade goods. I import them to Mexico from here." He paused for a moment. "Jose is a business man in Mexico, too. He invested in Mexican gold and sold it here. He took that money and reinvested it. He now owns a chain of retail businesses in Mexico. You never knew, did you?"

It certainly explained a lot of things. From the beginning, I had noticed the refinement in the way they both conducted themselves, the breeding, their social graces. My god, how could I have been so blind?

"No. I had no idea, Emile. But, why are you telling me this, now?"

"I have to go back to Mexico to divorce my wife. If I don't, she'll find out about the money I have, all my assets. The American divorce courts will rape me."

"Amanda doesn't know?"

"She never did. I thought about what you said about her before I married her. Because of you, I kept it from her. If you tell her now, I'm sunk financially."

"I won't tell her. I never liked her anyway, Emile. You were too good for her. But, again, why are you tellingme this?"

"Because, I want you to go with me to Mexico and marry me. I need you to understand that I can support you for the rest of your life. You, your girls, me and my son. We can be a family. I love you, Cindy. Marry me."

I sat in silence and watched his son playing nearby for a moment.

"Emile...I do love you. But, I can't marry you."

"Why not? If you love me, then why can't you marry me?" he asked looking hurt.

"Because of your family. Because of Jose," I said quietly.

"Are you saying you do love him?" he asked.

"No, Emile. But, he loved me. If I went with you and I married you, he would never forgive either of us. It would tear your family apart. Your parents, your relationship with him," I explained. "They would never accept me as your wife."