The Dead Women of Juarez

The Dead Women of Juarez Read Online Free PDF

Book: The Dead Women of Juarez Read Online Free PDF
Author: Sam Hawken
wouldn’t ask,” Kelly said, and he looked right at Estéban.
    “Hey, don’t to make me feel bad, man. You know I love you. But
nuestra familia
, they got some – how do you want to call it? – they got some old-fashioned ideas in their heads.”
    Kelly turned away. He looked over to the next practice pond, where a group of skateboarders, Mexican and white, traded stunts on steep concrete walls. He considered getting up and moving closer, but there was no good shade there and he was comfortable already.
    Estéban continued: “I see you, I see a good guy. Paloma, she loves you. But you know how some
vieja gente
can get with white boys. And my sister is
una mujer fina
; she deserves the best.”
    “I know,” Kelly said, and he knew before Estéban explained. He wondered why he asked in the first place, knowing the answer was just going to make him feel lousy. The tamales didn’t sit right anymore, huddled in the pit of his belly.
    “Maybe next time,” Estéban said.
    “Next time. Sure,” Kelly replied. It was as though he were talking with Paloma about it all over again. He stood and stretched, but put his hands on the wooden crossbeam rather than on the corrugated aluminum roof of the awning; the metal was hot enough to sear meat.
    “I tell you one thing,” Estéban said after the silence grew too long, “you got to stop putting your face in front of those young
boxeadores
. Ain’t you ugly enough?”
    “I got to be
handsome
now?”
    “No, but you can’t get nobody’s respect looking like you got hit by a truck. I don’t know how Paloma can look at you. I wouldn’t kiss nobody look like you do. People talk, man. They call you ‘Frankenstein.’”
    “That’s funny. What people?”
    “Ain’t no joke, homes. Just people. Paloma, she has
respecto
. More than you or me.”
    Kelly nodded, but said nothing. He finished off his bottle and rooted around in the slush of the cooler for a fresh one. Bending over he felt the booze in his head, a good kind of sleepy and stupid that a strong batch of
motivosa
could bring on in a hurry. It was where he liked to be.
    “But I tell you,” Estéban said, “you two get married, no matter what no one says on their own, they won’t disrespect you on your wedding day. That’s not the way we do it.”
    “You won’t take me to see some cousin get married, but I can be your
cuñado
?” Kelly asked.
    “No, no, listen to me: that will show them: when you put on a white suit and get your blessing from the padre under the eyes of God, you’ll be as brown as my ass,” Estéban said.
    “That’s pretty goddamned brown,” Kelly said. He sat down again.
    “Fuck you, man,” Estéban said without malice.
    “Yeah, fuck me,” Kelly said.

SEVEN
    H E WOKE BEFORE THE SUN CAME up and lay on his bed in the dark thinking about everything and nothing. Usually when he stirred out of sleep this early he’d bumble around with the lights off, and smoke a cigarette (or something stronger) until the day really started. This time when he rose, he brushed his teeth and washed his face. He looked at himself in the mirror. “Frankenstein,” he said out loud.
    Kelly put on some sweats and went outside.
    Mexico is hot and the border is no exception, but Ciudad Juárez is a city in the desert and deserts grow very cold at night no matter what the season. The dirty exhaust of the
maquiladoras
trapped heat and grit close to the ground, but even dozens of smokestacks couldn’t defeat the forces of nature; Kelly saw his breath in the air.
    Stretching made his legs and back hurt, but not so badly that he felt like stopping what he was doing… whatever he was doing. His calves were especially tight. He had muscle from walking, but no flexibility. He couldn’t remember the last time he could touch his toes without having to bend his knees.
    Lights were on and people were on the street. There were many women traveling together for safety as much as company. Some wore surgical masks, an echo
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