Read Online Jack In The Green by Charles De Lint - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Charles De Lint
Tags: Fantasy
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of the afternoon—but everything goes still the moment she steps inside. There are at least a dozen bandas seated at the various tables wearing their colours, and twice that number of hangers-on and girlfriends.
Sitting like a king at a center table is Roberto Pena, La Mano Grande. She knows him. Everybody knows him, if only to turn down another street when they see him coming. Today she walks right up to his table.
La Mano Grande doesn't have disproportionately big hands. He gets his nickname because when it comes to the barrio, he has his hand in everything illegal that can make money. Drugs, cars, guns.
He has tattoos on every visible piece of skin—even on his shaved head. It makes him seem like some kind of strange art installation—though he is far more dangerous than anything you might find in a gallery.
His gaze lingers on her as it travels up her body.
"I don't know who you are, chica ," he finally says, "but unless you're offering up your sweets, you just stepped into a world of trouble."
He might not recognize her, but she sees that others in the room do. Eyes widen. More than one person makes the sign of the cross. The man sitting beside Pena picks a newspaper up from the floor and drops it on the table in front of the gang leader. Pena glances down at it.
"So what?" he asks. "You her sister or something?"
"Tell yourself that, if it makes you feel better, but it doesn't change who I am."
"You don't look like a ghost to me."
"I'm not," Maria says. "I just came back."
He gives her a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
"Is that supposed to scare me?" he says. "You don't scare me. I could have you killed just like that."
He snaps his fingers.
Maria doesn't start. A strange calm has fallen over her. Her gaze is steady as it meets his. He reaches behind his back and pulls a handgun from his belt. He lays it on the table, his hand resting beside it.
"Go ahead," she tells him. "But the next time I return from the dead I won't come with the same courtesy as today. The next time I might come to your bedside, and you could die without ever knowing I was there."
She can see that she's getting to him. He knows she's not afraid in the same way the barrio dogs can smell fear. It makes him cautious. He didn't become the leader of the 66 Bandas because he's stupid. He became the leader because he's acutely perceptive and considers all possibilities before he acts.
"Is there a point to this?" he asks.
Maria nods. "Keep your business out of the barrio. I'm tired of seeing old ladies scared to leave their houses because your macho men are strutting around. I'm tired of innocent people dying in drive-bys. I'm tired of this place being a war zone, twenty-four/seven. You know, even wild animals don't shit in their own nests."
Pena continues to hold her gaze. He tries to give nothing away.
"I thought you people just robbed rich gringos," he says. "Why are you messing with us?"
"Are you even listening to me?"
He shrugs. "You open your mouth and all I hear is blah-blah-blah."
She starts to turn to leave and Pena picks up the gun, pointing it at her.
"Did I say you could go?" he asks.
"Shoot me or don't," Maria says, "Either way, I'm going to catch the tail end of my graveside service."
"Yeah, yeah. Because you'll just come back and kill me in my sleep. But maybe I won't kill you. Maybe I'll just blow out your knees and your elbows and let you live for awhile."
Maria braces herself for the shots, but they don't come. After a long moment, Pena lays the gun down on the table again.
"The Garzas want their money back," he says.
"Who are the Garzas?"
"The Garza Cartel," he says like he's talking to an idiot.
"And I told you what I want," Maria says.
"Nobody cares what you want. I'm letting you walk out of here in one piece so that you can bring me the money you stole from Crase. You've got twenty-four hours."
"And if I don't come back?"
"Don't make me send my boys out looking for you," Pena tells her. Maria
Sitting like a king at a center table is Roberto Pena, La Mano Grande. She knows him. Everybody knows him, if only to turn down another street when they see him coming. Today she walks right up to his table.
La Mano Grande doesn't have disproportionately big hands. He gets his nickname because when it comes to the barrio, he has his hand in everything illegal that can make money. Drugs, cars, guns.
He has tattoos on every visible piece of skin—even on his shaved head. It makes him seem like some kind of strange art installation—though he is far more dangerous than anything you might find in a gallery.
His gaze lingers on her as it travels up her body.
"I don't know who you are, chica ," he finally says, "but unless you're offering up your sweets, you just stepped into a world of trouble."
He might not recognize her, but she sees that others in the room do. Eyes widen. More than one person makes the sign of the cross. The man sitting beside Pena picks a newspaper up from the floor and drops it on the table in front of the gang leader. Pena glances down at it.
"So what?" he asks. "You her sister or something?"
"Tell yourself that, if it makes you feel better, but it doesn't change who I am."
"You don't look like a ghost to me."
"I'm not," Maria says. "I just came back."
He gives her a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
"Is that supposed to scare me?" he says. "You don't scare me. I could have you killed just like that."
He snaps his fingers.
Maria doesn't start. A strange calm has fallen over her. Her gaze is steady as it meets his. He reaches behind his back and pulls a handgun from his belt. He lays it on the table, his hand resting beside it.
"Go ahead," she tells him. "But the next time I return from the dead I won't come with the same courtesy as today. The next time I might come to your bedside, and you could die without ever knowing I was there."
She can see that she's getting to him. He knows she's not afraid in the same way the barrio dogs can smell fear. It makes him cautious. He didn't become the leader of the 66 Bandas because he's stupid. He became the leader because he's acutely perceptive and considers all possibilities before he acts.
"Is there a point to this?" he asks.
Maria nods. "Keep your business out of the barrio. I'm tired of seeing old ladies scared to leave their houses because your macho men are strutting around. I'm tired of innocent people dying in drive-bys. I'm tired of this place being a war zone, twenty-four/seven. You know, even wild animals don't shit in their own nests."
Pena continues to hold her gaze. He tries to give nothing away.
"I thought you people just robbed rich gringos," he says. "Why are you messing with us?"
"Are you even listening to me?"
He shrugs. "You open your mouth and all I hear is blah-blah-blah."
She starts to turn to leave and Pena picks up the gun, pointing it at her.
"Did I say you could go?" he asks.
"Shoot me or don't," Maria says, "Either way, I'm going to catch the tail end of my graveside service."
"Yeah, yeah. Because you'll just come back and kill me in my sleep. But maybe I won't kill you. Maybe I'll just blow out your knees and your elbows and let you live for awhile."
Maria braces herself for the shots, but they don't come. After a long moment, Pena lays the gun down on the table again.
"The Garzas want their money back," he says.
"Who are the Garzas?"
"The Garza Cartel," he says like he's talking to an idiot.
"And I told you what I want," Maria says.
"Nobody cares what you want. I'm letting you walk out of here in one piece so that you can bring me the money you stole from Crase. You've got twenty-four hours."
"And if I don't come back?"
"Don't make me send my boys out looking for you," Pena tells her. Maria
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