Love y Lucha

Part 2

Rita could tell her father was tense as she sat across the desk from him and Mr. Walker, the son of her father's long time business partner. It had already started out poorly, Mr. Walker refusing the beer Rita's father offered from the mini fridge underneath his desk he kept stocked for occasions like these. Her father liked to talk business over a beer, he thought it made the meetings more man to man and took the edge off what was usually a dismal subject. Now with Mr. Walker's refusal of the beer, her father omitted the one for himself and instead sat awkwardly, his empty hands pensively swirling thumb against index finger.

A static hiss escaped Mr. Walker's parted lips. Fraught with dread, it took a second for Rita to realize the noise had come from the two-way radio that sat between them on the desk. "Sir, we've got a situation in the south parking lot."

Smiling assuredly, Rita's father reached for the radio. "Excuse me a moment." His thumb clicked the button to respond. "What kind of situation?"

"A crowd."

"Did you call security?"

"They're not answering."

Rita rolled her eyes. Her father preferred to employ his own security team to handle any situations that occurred on the lot rather than involving the police, but they were made up of mostly slackers. The fact that no one was answering didn't surprise her.

"I'll send Rita over," her father said into the two-way. "Keep trying security til they answer." He set the radio down, looking at Rita. "See if you can find Arnez on your way over there."

"Sure," Rita murmured. She had no choice. She was her father's confidant, the next in line, and she knew he entrusted her to make the right decisions and handle whatever came her way, even sketchy parking lot situations.

Rita was well aware of the eyes that followed her as she made her way down the aisle of vendors on her way to the south parking lot. Long past learning her lesson in stilettos, she navigated down the cracked asphalt of the Hernandez Flea Market grounds with ease, her tall espadrilles almost working to her advantage. Meanwhile, her skirt had a different idea, riding up higher the faster she walked. It was the price she paid for shopping where she worked, but she hadn't been able to resist the brightly colored marigold fabric when she had seen it clipped to the grating in May Chow's space.

Undeterred, Rita pulled the skirt down as gracefully as she could, all the while keeping an eye out for Arnez. As the parking lot came into view, Rita called out to Frankie, a fruit vendor that had rented a space for years.

"Can you come with me?"

"Yeah. Of course," he said. "Joseph!" He motioned for his son, who at twelve had already been working the stand for years and could handle it by himself.

Approaching the south parking lot, Rita could easily spot the crowd that had gathered. She pushed her way through the throngs of people, expecting to see a fight in progress. There was a jubilant, blood-thirsty feeling in the air.

What she saw exceeded every definition of what she had been expecting.

Shirtless men in brightly colored tights and masks, the sunlight reflecting off their broad, oiled shoulders, paraded around what appeared to be a large, inflatable ring. Two men in particular traded insults with each other from either side of the ring, egged on by the crowd who grew more and more fevered with each transaction before growing quiet again to hear the escalating dialogue.

Before she knew it, Frankie was shouting beside her in excitement.

"Frankie, what is this?" Rita struggled to be heard over the crowd.