Drug Lords Gift

"I know! Isn't he beautiful? Slip into her, Mattie Honey. Make my sister please you, okay? She wants you, you want her, and I want you, too, so quit wasting time."

***

After the just-home-from-work formalities the following evening—or should I say: informalities—they led me to our kitchen table and sat me down. As usual, they'd already put me in a warm and accommodating mood, so I wasn't at all opposed to having two naked Latino women fawn over me.

Maria reached back and found a small plastic sack. "Here, Sir. We spend your money, so we hope you like what we buy."

I mean, what was there not to like in this situation? Maybe WWIII or a nuclear attack, but nothing these two could do. From the sack, each picked a small jewelry-type box, probably costume jewelry. Every once in a while they brought home another piece they'd found at Goodwill or St. Vincent. I never understood how jewelry—jewelry of any sort—could make a beautiful woman look better than when naked, but why fight it?

From each box first came a golden chain, followed by a trophy shop medallion dangling from it. Obviously these were new, not some el-cheapo pre-owned stuff they'd found used somewhere. Each held hers out to me.

"Here, Sir Mattie. Read."

I did my best in the glitter of the overhead light:

Anna Sanchez

Property of

Matthew K. Worden

Maria Sanchez

Property of

Matthew K. Worden

Their names were done larger and in a classic script, the rest in a bold, block font, all centered. I looked up to their smiles.

"Here," both said, more or less together as they handed them to me by the chain. "Read on back."

It took me a moment to get the glare out of my eyes, but when I did, I saw in softer script, And glad to be.

I chuckled and their smiles widened in response.

"But you're not property, mine or anybody's. I can't own you."

Their expressions changed just that quickly to something joining fear, disappointment, and lack of comprehension.

Anna came to first. "Don't you want to own us?"

"More than anything in the world. But the kind of owning I want for you is the kind I have to earn every day."

"So you do, a dozen times at least."

"I hope so."

"We just want earn you hundred times every day, too, so we sure you always get more."

Sheesh! My thought must have shown on my face.

"Come on, Maria," Anna said. "We got earn ninety-nine times yet tonight, right?

With that I found myself being dragged once again to the bedroom by two naked Latino girls. I figured next time I had a celebration excuse, I get them each real gold chains and pure gold pendants with those inscriptions. I wanted solid gold for everything between them and myself. Oh, those lucky fobs, dangling every day between such beautiful breasts!

Chapter 4

Be It Hereby Known to All:

We, Matthew K. Worden and Anna Sanchez, being of sound mind this (whatever exact date we chose to make it official), have consented and vowed this day to be joined in marriage as provided under Montana Common Law, to be man and wife, and to henceforth be known as Mr. and Mrs. Matthew K. Worden or individually as Mr. Matthew K. Worden and Mrs. Anna S. Worden. Both the bride and groom presently reside in Golden Canyon County within the State of Montana and at age exceeding18 years, both exceed that state's minimum permissible age to marry.

Signed: Matthew K. Worden and Anna Sanchez, now Mrs. Matthew S. Worden

Witnessed by Maria Sanchez, Maid of Honor and sister of the bride.

Published this date in the Golden Times-Sentinel, a Montana newspaper of record.

"Oooh, Master!" Anna said with a shiver. "What it all mean?"

"What do you think it means?"

"I don't know. But I afraid to hope for so much I want."

"Yeah, Matt Honey," Maria said. "What it mean?"

"This is a way Anna and I can be married, without papers and ID, and with little risk the authorities will succeed in deporting her. As I understand it plain and simple, she would be my legal wife, and also, as I understand immigration rules, they seldom deport a citizen's wife who is resident here."

"But what about me, then?"

"You're her sister. I doubt they will deport you, either. After all, you'll be part of my family, too."

"Really? Really?"

"Well, you're both here in the United States, you've been here ten years or so, aren't mooching off the welfare system, and you're not committing violent crimes. And Maria, it says you are very closely related to my wife, the woman I will be legally married to.

"You think it really work?" Anna said. "Just like that? We decide? We say so, and 'poof', we married? Without license, I am wife?"

"Well, don't you want to?"

"Oh, Master I want to so much you wouldn't believe!"

"But, Honey?" I said. "Remember it's much more than just 'poof.' We already talked about that the other night, remember?"

"Si. You acting like husband with me? And me acting like wife with you? Your esposa?"

I nodded.

"And us acting like your wives?" Maria said.

I shook my head slowly. "Sorry Maria. Only Anna. You'll have to act like my sister in law."

"Hoo boy! How will you do that, Maria?" Anna said.

The other girl shook her head slowly.

"Come on, Maria. It won't be that bad," Anna said.

"What you mean, won't be that bad? I love Matt just as much as you. And I want him just as much as you—even more, lots of times. Sure be better if we both marry him. There be some way, yes?"

"Sorry, not in this country. That is, unless you want to move to Minnesota and become Moslems in one of those communities I heard about back there."

"No thanks! I staying here with you, Mattie, Honey. I know you here and I love you here."

"So," Anna said, "When we do?" Was that eagerness I detected in her voice?

"Early this summer, maybe?"

"Must wait so very long?"

"You already been waiting nearly two years for something."

"Yeah, but that's 'cause we not know there is other way."

"So, since we now know a way, you're in a big hurry? Nothing will really change, except you and Maria will be safer from deportation."

"And maybe you fuck me more because I be wife? But you make more good sex with Maria, too, just so be fair?"

"Isn't now enough?"

"Always want more ... me and Maria always want more."

"Oh, brother!"

"No brother. Only wife and sister-in-law? What is sister-in-law mean, anyway?"

"You have words for that in Spanish. La cuñada, I think."

"Ooh?" Maria said.

"Si, Maria. You be Mattie's cuñada. Much better than only amante."

"I like cuñada much more better.

"Amante not good enough? I thought ..."

"If can't be esposa, I be cuñada. You still fuck Maria plenty, si?"

"I do my best."

Both women smiled, and I knew what that meant. Is it merely coincidence esposas, the plural of esposa (wife), also translates as handcuffs in English?

***

So the plan was this:

I'd already talked to my boss about this. I'd take my 3 vacation weeks early (in late June), and doing so eased up his summer vacation scheduling in the office. He'd give me two weeks extra as unpaid leave-of-absence—giving me five weeks total—without overextending manpower in the office.

We'd drive north to southern Idaho, then on up into Southern Montana.

Once in Golden Canyon, Montana, we'd take up residence in one of those 'residential hotels,' the Old West used to call boardinghouses, booking by the month. In this town of 623 population we had a choice of two hotels, a newer one that catered to transient business, the older one whose clientele consisted mostly of late career folks, pensioners and retired singles. I chose the later, expecting we'd be out of there before gossiping neighbors got the better of us. Besides, being on an American Plan for meals was far cheaper than eating in restaurants all the time, yet simpler than Anna and Maria trying to play cook and maid in our rooms.

I tuned up my resume,' with the intent of spreading it around the Golden Canyon area, hopefully giving the appearance of intent to stay. I didn't figure there would be many job openings in The Canyon for technical contract managers, but I'd check around and if a few interviews popped up, so much the better for the image I wanted to create. I didn't have to accept; I could always return south at the end of my five weeks. But you never know in a town that size which is also the county seat. Maybe my future lay in Golden Canyon?

At our first state border crossing, the southern one into Idaho, I pulled off the road just short of the border sign.

"Okay, both of you, put your shoes on and get ready to walk."

"Why, Mattie?" Maria said from the seat to my right in the van.

"Trying to stay legal."

She looked at me with a puzzled look that exceeded the question in her voice.

"There's this silly law in our country that says if we're not married and I take you into another state with the intent to have sex with you or sell you, I can be thrown in jail—for a long time."

"Oh?"

"But the way I read it, if you and Anna walk across the border of your own free will, without me urging you, paying you somehow, or threatening you, then that law doesn't apply."

"Stupid law."

"No, not really, the way it was intended. The stupid part is how it gets enforced sometimes."

"You mean when Rudy take us to Las Vegas those times he could get in jail? And Senior Espino and his men, too?"

"I imagine so. Anything looking like prostitution."

"No, not prostitution with Senior Espino then. No money."

"Money's not necessary. Anything you might want or he gives. Anything."

"Oooh, big problem. I want what you give. Anna want what you give. We want everything you give!" With that I got a big grin.

I nodded.

"Wake up, Anna! We gonna walk to Idaho. Wake up!"

"Huh? What?" came from the back seat.

"Border coming. Maria and Anna, we walk."

"Why?"

"Silly law say if Mattie take us there and then fuck us, he go to jail."

"Estados Unidos have law like that?"

"He say so."

"Why? He fuck us all time in Nevada. It oh so nice. What different in Idaho?"

"And we gotta do this again when you cross into Montana," I said.

"Montana have stupid law, too?"

"Afraid so. But it's not really Idaho or Montana law. It's Estados Unidos law."

"Then it mean if Anna and Maria come back to Nevada, same thing? Because we want sex with you?"

"Afraid so—unless we're married."

"That even more stupid. You marry me so that okay? But then can't marry Maria, so if she love you, that be bad?"

Out of the mouths of babes, as the saying goes. Or maybe that's from the mouths of innocents?

Our drive up was over 500+ miles, so we started very early and spent a long day getting there. The mid-size van I'd bought a year or so back because my 'going to work' coupe was too small when me and my girls went out, ate up the miles much faster than it ate gas, so we arrived in just over ten hours with a gas bill I didn't mind.

Spencer's Hotel and Boarding House looked much as I expected from the photo on its website: Late 1800s ex-overnight hotel with it's exterior not particularly well maintained. But inside, it was clean and welcoming. The pair of connecting rooms I'd booked—more on faith than knowledge—were entirely adequate for a bride and groom-to-be, with our Maid of Honor in a connecting, somewhat smaller room.

By 9:00 PM, we'd settled in and were exhausted. But first, we needed supper since we were quite a bit too late for that evening's board at Spencer's.

"Ah, Mrs. Spencer," I said as we came down the stair into what sufficed as the lobby. "I'm sure we've missed supper. Please recommend some place close we should try."

"Mr. Worden, right?"

I nodded, then tipped my head toward the girl holding too solid a grip of my hand to be a common acquaintance. "My not too many days from now wife, Anna Sanches?"

"Oh, congratulations!"

With that, Anna held out her hand in a manner that showed off the ring I'd given her the evening we firmed up this trip.

"Beautiful ring!"

"Mattie he have it make for me. Diamond was Grandmomma Worden's"

"Nice you're keeping it in the family. I think things like that are important."

I motioned toward Maria. "And this is Maria Sanches, Anna's twin sister and her Maid-of Honor—to-be." Right then I was wishing I could put a ring on her finger, too, but the best I could do at present was give her a good life here in the USA, and half of my love and affection.

"So, now you know about us, what about food? We're starving, aren't we ladies?"

"Well, we have three fast food chain outfits: Taco Anytime, McDougals, and a Pizza Rio. All passable, but nothing to brag about. If you want peace, quiet, and decent food to sit down to, I'd try Harriet's Café. But hurry, she closes in an hour."

"Good, huh?"

"Well, I'm a bit prejudiced. Harriet's my best friend, but she is a good cook. If you go there, tell her I sic'd you on her, okay?"

"Sound good?" I said to my girls.

Both nodded.

"Thanks, Mrs. Spencer. See you at breakfast."

"Six-thirty to eight AM on weekdays, until nine on weekends"

"Six-thirty to nine tomorrow morning then it is." I scooped up my girls and herded them toward the front entrance, hoping that gesture didn't give too much indication if how well the three of us liked each other.

***

"Good morning, Mr. Worden," Mrs. Spencer said as I herded my girls from the lobby into the oversized dining room. "Everybody here, introduce yourselves while I get another plate of pancakes and eggs from the kitchen." The fellow closest to us extracted himself from his chair, turned toward me, and held out his hand.

"Jake Owns. I'm an accountant with the County."

"Matt Worden. Up here for the month, looking to relocate. Boy, this sure is a beautiful place."

"Sure is. I came here twenty years ago as a vacation temp, and I'm still here."

"Well, meet my wife-to-be, Anna Sanchez?" They shook hands, "And this is her sister Maria, who will shortly be her Maid of Honor and my sister-in-law."

Maria shook his hand, too. Greetings all around the table prevailed until Mrs. Spencer returned with the second plate heaped with pancakes, eggs, sausage, and bacon. Well over half the roomers were employees of the County at one level or other, and split about evenly, men and women. The women steered the conversation to wedding preparation topics, but Anna swapped ends on that.

"We sort of elope, I guess," she said. "So many things get ahead before, so we decide just get married, and heck with all rest of it."

"So this trip?"

"Matt wants relocating—if there work here. But this trip to see if we really like well enough to be married, too."

"Oh, you will," several women said.

I was sure of that, too, but managed to hold my confirming nod in check.

"What do you do, Mr. Worden?" one of the male County employees said.

"Contract administration, usually technical contracts, because that's where my knowledge is strongest. I hate trying to administer a contract when I haven't a clue what's going on. It's best if I've actually done some of the work myself before."

"But what about your wedding?" one of the women said to Anna. "You'll miss out on all those memories if you don't have a real wedding."

Anna turned first to the woman, then back to me. Her worshiping expression went well with her, "We have whole life for make full of memories. No need rush, just need to make for certain first."

A woman across the table caught this and said, "I'll bet on you two. I see it in your eyes."

I chuckled softly. I'd already laid all my bets on Anna and Maria. Now, if we could just keep the immigration people off the playing field, I held no doubts I'd win every bet I'd made.

"So?" another woman said. "You getting married here in Gold Canyon? I know a couple beautiful places. And the owners would consent for sure—'cause I'm related to them."

"Thank you, Ma'm. But our situation is somewhat different."

"Yes?"

"See, we don't want to wait for Anna's paperwork to catch up, and without that, we can't get a regular marriage license. But since Montana has the good sense to recognize common law marriage, we're just going to do it that way instead of waiting." I figured that eased around the rough corners of our plan pretty well.

"Common Law? I thought that only applied to business deals. Old ones, at that."

Another woman turned to her and said, "No, we had a case in court years back I remember from when I first became the stenographer. The court backed the woman claiming she and the guy were common-law married and said they had to get a real divorce to get un-married so he could marry again."

"Huh! You learn something every day."

Anna clutched at my elbow, so I looked down at her.

"Well, our problem is getting married, not getting un-married, right Anna?" The smile I got answered that with no hesitation.

"So when's the big day?"

"Haven't decided yet, but thinking maybe two or three weekends from now."

"No ceremony, though?"

"Not required, but you can do whatever you want. I plan to take Anna out into a pretty, scenic park somewhere, look into her beautiful eyes and ask her to be my wife. If she says yes, then I'll say I take her to be my wife, and say I consent to be her husband. Anna and I and Maria sign a little notice I made up for the paper, I kiss Anna, and we go on our honeymoon."

"I think you should have some sort of ceremony," another woman said, and the man next to her nodded.

"Did you want to hang around somewhere after you got married?" I'd noticed the ring this woman still wore, yet I'd heard hints somewhere in earlier conversation that she'd been widowed years before.

"Good point. We should make it short. How about we ask Mrs. Spencer to make a small cake for after supper on that Friday or Saturday night? You two get yourselves married, however you decide, we have cake and punch after supper for sort of a reception, and you two go upstairs and really celebrate being married?"

Yeah, right! Anna and I'd been celebrating for well over a year. I doubted there'd be anything truly new—except maybe a few new, sexy bits of clothing Anna and Maria had made—but the true celebration part I understood quite well.

"What you think, Anna?" I said looking her way. After all, isn't the wedding mainly for the bride? The groom gets his celebration in bed afterwards, right?

"If you want, Honey. I just want be married. Really married. Really married to you."

"How about it ladies?" the leader of the celebration committee took the floor. "You tell us when you decide to get married, and that evening we'll have a little reception for the bride and groom. Right here after supper."

Anna was nodding, slowly, as if she'd never expected anything like this. But her faint smile said it coasted right alongside her greatest hopes.

"What's say Anna? A week from Friday evening? Or the following Friday, if this rushes you too much."

"Just fine maybe four Friday ahead, not rush." She tightened her grip on my elbow, so I knew even if I changed to the up-coming Friday, I'd get no argument.

Any Friday worked out fine on another level, too: The weekly, Golden Times-Sentinel printed late Thursday and arrived in everyone's mailbox Friday morning, so our proclamation in their legal notices would easily arrive just in time.

***

We spent the interim seeing all of Golden Canyon County, and much of its bordering counties.