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doesn’t mean you can be a smartass, understand? Your mother thinks you got an old man’s head on your shoulders, but I don’t hear old men going on and on and on. They know when to shut the hell up, Sonny. How else do you think they get to their age?’
    When I felt sure that he was through with me, I crawled off the curtain and took myself to bed. I couldn’t say whether I passed out straight away or a long time later. Either way, all I could hear was those two women warring – the volume racked up by another notch.
    I stirred next morning to hear Uncle Jairo and Alberto at the door. I didn’t open my eyes, just listened. My uncle was speaking in a forced whisper, and seemed annoyed that Alberto wouldn’t follow his example.
    â€˜Sonny had a bad night and needs to sleep,’ Jairo was saying. ‘I’m sure he’ll call on you when he wakes.’
    â€˜Please,’ Alberto piped up again. ‘It’s important that I see him now.’
    â€˜Will you ‘keep the noise down!’ hissed my uncle. ‘If you disturb his mother too, then God help you. Now stop being a prick and go home.’
    I wanted to get out of bed, but my body didn’t feel right. Sure enough, when I tried to sit up a charge flashed across my chest that reminded me what had happened. Next I heard Alberto click his tongue and tell my uncle he’d be waiting for me. By the time I made it out of bed, Jairo was back behind the kitchen table. He was wearing his spectacles, and had the stereo in front of him. One side of the plastic housing was all smashed, and he was covering it with strips of parcel tape.
    â€˜Your boyfriend called,’ he said, without even looking across.
    â€˜He isn’t my boyfriend. Please, Uncle Jairo.’
    â€˜Whatever.’
    I stood there clutching my sides, feeling too weak for another fight, and turned to look in on my mother. Their room was on the other side of the curtain divide, and I was surprised to see the bed empty.
    â€˜I heard you say she was sleeping.’
    â€˜Maybe I did.’ Jairo chuckled to himself. ‘Whatever Alberto thinks of me, I’m damn sure he respects your Mamá.’
    â€˜So where is she?’
    â€˜Out.’ He looked up at me, startled at what he saw, and quickly returned to his work. Why don’t you go back to bed, Sonny? Rest yourself a while.’
    â€˜What time did she come home last night?’
    â€˜She’ll be home later, Sonny.’
    â€˜Uncle Jairo—’
    â€˜That’s
enough!
’ he slapped his hand on the table. It made the stereo jump as well as me. ‘Why do you have to cross me all the time, huh? She’s probably at church, OK? Praying for your sorry soul.’
    â€˜Probably? I don’t believe you.’
    â€˜Fine. You want the truth? She didn’t come home at all last night. Seems she likes her job too much. Now get out of my sight, because I swear I’m in no mood to be reasonable today, and when your mother does get in she’ll be sorry, just like her son.’
    I was thankful that Alberto answered the door when I called for him, and not Beatriz. I was in the same clothes as the day before, the gun still strapped in the holster. In truth I wasn’t sure I could get it off. I had been too dazed to try the night before. Now the searing pain in my ribs stopped me from finding the buckle.
    â€˜Sonny!’ he said brightly, and stepped aside for me. ‘Your uncle said you’d had a bad night. Are you ill? You look like you’ve been puking, the face on you.’
    â€˜It’s nothing like that.’
    I heard him close the door behind me, and winced when he clapped me on the back. ‘So, what happened?’
    â€˜I had some problems getting to sleep, I suppose.’
    â€˜Told you.’ Alberto invited me to sit down at the table, grinning as he took the chair opposite. ‘Man, that gun is guaranteed to keep you staring