I was comforting Ma Mere, who had just fallen in love with Cici long distance herself, when Lupita, still wallowing in guilt and having been ousted from the detention center with the others at closing time, arrived with a massive feast.
She, Bea and Victor had brought some of the vigil keepers along. Ama was with them, too, having been included in all the group texts. Kissed and hugged me so many times it gave my parents pause...
But by that time, my parents were too shell shocked to say much. I'd never seen them quite so casual around people they'd never met. Ma Mere, shoeless like Cici and Guy sipping tequila and mezcal and Mexican beers as if they were the exorbitantly expensive wines from his cellars—he was an insufferable snob as a rule.
Speaking of which, I don't think the Ritz was particularly pleased to have the smell of all those delectable dishes turning heads in the lobby as Lupita's wait staff went marching through. And Cici's somewhat scruffy activist pals weren't Ritzy types by any means.
In fact, I'd expected some to decline on principle, but quite a few showed up. Gawking, wide-eyed, at the opulence they railed against with such vehemence most of the time.
We all needed some soul food. Not just the succulent stuff on the tables but the love folded into every morsel by my beautiful Lupita.
I was amused—and relieved—watching Ma Mere get drunk and "disorderly." She'd already draped herself over me after Cici's call, burbling, "Cheri, please forgive me! I didn't understand," with such passion that I wasn't quite sure how to handle it.
And then she'd caught my face between those impeccably manicured hands and cried, "All those ridiculous things, the women, the wandering--first, there had to be this one! To change my lost child into this loving man..."
As the alcohol really began to take effect, she even swatted at my father whenever he attempted to peel her off me.
"You have no heart," she pouted at him. "So bloody British! Go away with your stiff upper lip and let his mother comfort him!"
She'd had—we'd all had—a few too many shots of this very strange, very sweet mezcal. It was mixed with pure cane sugar and Guy declared it "unpalatable" in secret so as not to insult. But the rest of us sucked down shots with grateful glee and found ourselves floating in a rather druggy daze thereafter. Poor Bea fell asleep after a few sips.
I, myself, had to go rushing away to my adjoining suite just in time to heave up almost everything I'd eaten. I was hugging the toilet for dear life when I spied Cielo's little bag under the sink. And burst into those loud soppy sobs that sometimes well up when one has had far more than one too many.
I grabbed and hugged it as if it were Cici herself. Sending up a little puff of her scent that drove me wild enough to begin with. But unzipping that bag and finding a t-shirt and a little pair of panties I could huff...dear God...
I wadded that little thongy thing up against my nose and my cock jerked so insistently that there was no time for lotion--one spit and it was on. And over, quite quickly, too.
Frosted the place with great gushes of cum and then curled up in fetal position, sobbing her name pitifully. Thank God no one came looking for me. What a fright they'd have gotten, me crying, lying in a pool of creamy cum with those little panties draped over my face.
And admittedly, all that wanking actually only made it worse. I could conjure up the way she looked when I made love to her, but nothing I did could replicate the feel of that slick, silky pussy caressing my cock.
We sometimes laughed, Cici and I, about how "flammable" we were, even when we weren't together. She loved to drive me mad talking about all the crazy things she'd "played with" to relieve the tension. The handle of a particular brush, the "fist shaped" front end of a chair arm, a tube-shaped pillow, an electric toothbrush with the bristles facing the wrong way.
She'd scooted her cooch under the gushing spigot in the bath to get off once, too, after waking from a particularly hot dream. And a female roommate at the house she'd lived in when we first met had opened the bathroom door just as she was scooting back up.
"I'd just met you and I was acting like that," she said. "I could feel how you'd feel before you'd ever even touched me."
And I could feel her even though they'd locked her away from me. Or...the lack of her, actually, is what I really felt. And it was driving me absolutely insane...
So, I was deeply grateful I had our little gathering to return to. Where Ma Mere was drowning herself in Lupita's luscious mole sauce.
Guy couldn't get enough culichi. It's a sort of creamy green poblano sauce Lupita had poured over massive shrimp. He sopped up every drop with a corn tortilla when the shrimp were gone. They'd gone "native," my parents. Meaning there would be some pretty savage sex in their suite later on, too, no doubt.
But to their credit, they were both demonstrably delighted by the friendships that had brought all this bounty into our lives. There'd been a "pact" of sorts between Bea and Lupita (who knew and did not care by then), not to tell the parents exactly how I knew them. But after watching them morph into these two almost unrecognizable beings that day, I honestly began to think it wouldn't matter all that much if they knew.
They seemed happy that I'd found my "pack," after years of being an intentional exile in every world to which I'd been introduced.
"You've got quite the little community, haven't you?" Guy marveled, more effusive in his cups than his British blood normally would've allowed.
In fact, we were huddled up on a terrace couch almost as cozily as I'd been with Ma Mere. Who had finally gone to relieve herself of some of that rich food.
And I said, "If you let yourself go and forget about all the things you think you need, this city--this entire part of the country--will show you better ones. Simpler ones, but...more real, I think, than the ephemeral ones so many people chase after all their lives."
He squinted at me, drowsy with alcohol, and said, "She has always called you her little savage. Son petit sauvage. The wild child who didn't really belong to us."
"Really?"
"Oh, she loved it. Envied it, I think, your complete disregard for the things we were tethered to. She was a wild child herself. Tamed over time, but she recognized it in you. And feared that you might die of it if you didn't find something to give it to. Some-one, even. Of whom she would be very jealous."
He, of course, had been her someone. The staid but brave Brit who'd been awakened, intrigued and ultimately captured by the "savage" inside her. It all made sudden, perfect sense.
And when my eyes sparked up a little bit, he said, "I think she's more impressed than jealous. As am I."
"Now I see where he gets that face from," Lupita said, fanning herself as she came outside to breathe for a bit. "He looks like both of you!"
"Your face, though," I said.
"Classic beauty, that, yes," Guy agreed. "And may I tell you that I've never enjoyed a meal more in my life?"
"And he's had meals fit for a king," I told her. "Meals with kings, in fact."
"You guys are like Downton Abbey in real life," she said.
"Is Bea all right?" I asked.
"She's up, telling stories. And Victor's talkin' to la Morena (the Black woman). Mira! (Look)"
I looked in and could only smile. He was hanging on Ama's every word—as I've said, one doesn't expect all that brain and body, both. So, the scholar and the skirt chaser in that man were both getting all kinds of excited, as Cici would've said.
I could also see the recently revived Bea regaling a table full of young fans with her tales of the "old" Southwest. Later, Guy would buy all the books, on the spot, from Amazon. And request a visit to her ranch as well. Bea's eyes, when he asked, glittered like the gold dust one of her stories was about.
"There's one more Grande Dame you have to meet," I told him—they'd gotten acquainted by video chat, my Madame and fam. Ma Mere had been astounded by her flawless, lineless skin. Madame had chuckled and said, "Girl, that sun jus' dries up all y'all melanin-deprived people." And I honestly thought Guy was going to laugh himself into a coughing fit.
That very same cell that had brought Madame into their lives long distance buzzed again and startled us all.
And Carmen, one of the friends who'd stayed at the detention center, cried, "They just put her on a bus," on speaker for all to hear.
Victor came rushing out to yell, "When?!"
"A few minutes ago! There were about 20 of them led out in handcuffs. They were behind this big iron fence so all we could do was scream and yell. She saw us but they were shoving them up the steps so fast—"
"And they didn't say anything to you?" I asked.
"These lawyers came out—they'd been kicked out right in the middle of talking to some of them. And this one said--"
"Misrepresentation or concealment of facts," someone else yelled into the phone. "Code 1325. Six months in jail, $1500 fine. Possibly banned for life, but she could appeal."
Victor said, "Shit," and started swiping his own cell frantically.
"What does it mean?" Ma Mere cried.
"They can charge you with it just for misspelling something or skipping a section of a form," Guy said. "So, it's a last resort if they haven't found anything more serious. Because it's a felony, silly as it may seem. A cheap shot, but quite effective in a pinch."
"It's been like this for a few months now," Victor said. "First they suspect this, then they suspect that and it goes on and on until they circle back around to the first--"
"Oh, holy shit," Carmen interrupted. "They wanna take her alla way to the fucking East Coast or something maybe! What the fuck?!"
I think everyone on the terrace yelled "What?!" In unison.
And then she came back and said, "That lawyer, the ACLU guy, he says they've stopped the bus some kind of way. Hang on a sec—I'll call you right back!"
When the line went dead, I asked, "They can send her that far away?" Looking to Victor for counsel.
"They can do whatever the fuck they want," Lupita hissed. "It gets their dicks hard, doing this to people."
"Chastain your phone," Ma Mere yelped as my cell buzzed again.
"Tell those lawyers not to let her volunteer to leave, okay?" Victor said. "She won't be able to appeal if she volunteers."
"Wait, this isn't Carmen—hang on," I said. The name, Marisol Fuentes, was not familiar, but I answered anyway.
And heard the only voice I wanted to hear.
"Hey, Papi," Cielo said. "Gotta talk fast before they come after this girl's phone, okay?"
"Just tell me--"
"I'm goin' across in a couple of days or so--Nogales, okay? I'm gonna ask 'em to just let me go insteada wasting time with all kinda trials and whatnot. ICE can do that real easy."
"Cielo, if you do—"
"Papi, I'm done with them having all the power! I don't wanna be looking over my shoulder all the time and I don't want you and my friends worrying all the time either. Three years—even 10 years is nothing at this age! We can wait that out. Plus, the States aren't the center of the fucking universe! The way things are going now, everybody all pissed off at each other, wanting to fight some kinda civil war--maybe by then I won't even want to go back."
"You're gonna jump," I said. And I smiled—I don't even know why, I just felt this...wave of incongruous relief wash over me...
"Yes! Like you taught me," she said. With a smile in her voice, too. "And you can come down every damned day! Stay with me, if you want. You're just wasting that brilliant mind, arguin' with a buncha stupid ass college kids who don't give a shit about anything but what party they're going to tonight. Come down and do something worth doing! Make...microwave eggs at some shelter with me. You're good at that!"
There was a sudden cacophony of gritos, whistles, cheers and applause—Lupita cried, "Word, girl," and slapped hands with some of Cici's friends.
And Cici said, "Speakin' of parties..."
"God, I wish you were here. Lupita made--"
"Damn—look, I gotta go! But this lawyer will call you later on, okay? David Schultz, got it? He's good people. Y te quiero muchísimo, mi amor (I love you so much, my love). No te preocupes, mi corazon (Don't worry, my heart.). I'm just taking my life back."
And after she'd let me go, she sent me a link to this Open Your Eyes song that she said she kept hearing in her head. It goes:
Never be afraid to love
Never be afraid to just be
Cast away the chains of doubt
Have the courage to be free
Don't cloud your eyes with others' lies
See only what you wanna see
Duplicate this simple truth
Have the courage to be free
Open your eyes, you can fly
Open your eyes, you can fly
You can fly
You can fly...
I'd showed her how to jump, but she was showing me how to survive the fall...
And when I looked up at all the faces looming above me, the cheering and celebrating started up again.
And Ma Mere came up to squeeze the stuffing out of me, kiss my cheek, and say, "I think I will turn gay now and fight you for this girl."
"You don't have to go that far," I said. "God willing, she'll be family soon."
"Already is," Ama said.
And Victor, standing right next to her, smiled and said, "Mexican divorce. Sounds like a plan."
And he stuck out his hand so we could shake on that.
Just as Guy took a look at his cell...and a smile even wider than mine spread across his face.