Part Six, Pietro and Valencia

click to go to part one Valencia woke before light and arose from the bed. She turned to Pietro, still sleeping. She said quietly, “You have much on your mind, mi mano; I know how long you tossed and turned last night. Well, sleep now my love. I will be with you again soon.”

She left Pietro’s home.

When Pietro awoke panic swept over him but it was not Valencia’s absence that panicked him, it was the coyote. “What was I thinking? The church cannot help me, the coyote will kill me!”

He had not told Valencia everything. He owed the coyote the remainder of the $2000, after the $500 he gave him yesterday. And his pickup was gone, the money for that, $700, and the $200.  he had not given the Coyote, was in the pocket of his jeans. He’d agreed to be a mule for part of the balance. He had to get out of this deal. Last night he and Valencia made a pact, even if neither of them spoke it: they would face the future, whatever it was, together. Now he could not go north alone. Jesus Madre, what a fix!
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Pietro stood in the open doorway of the little shack on the corner of the used car lot. His truck was not parked where he left it yesterday on the side of the lot.

“Manuel, I cannot sell the truck. I need it. Here is your money.”

He held out the $700.

The fat albino Mexican looked up from his desk.

“Sheet Pietro, the truck is already sold. Anyhow, you can’t get out now. Get the money over to el Diablo; he’s looking for you.”

“But… But, I did not tell you about the coyote. How do you know?”

“Pietro, don’t be a fucking fool. I know about it all, the drugs you are going to take north, everything. Everyone knows except you and your little puta. Now be a man and get the money to el Diablo today and maybe he will simply ship you north and let you live. You don’t fuck with el Diablo.”

Pietro stood there for a moment longer. What was happening to him? He had only talked to the coyote two days before, and given him the deposit, and the coyote told him he would give him a packet to carry and the money would be less and Pietro was to leave last night, now Manuel said the coyote was looking for him. OK, he was supposed to bring the balance yesterday and he didn’t. In fact he didn’t even have it all yet, but surely the coyote would understand his predicament.

Manuel was not paying any attention to Pietro. He was talking on his phone.

Pietro turned and walked away, despair filling his heart.

At the corner he saw his truck. It was parked behind the panadería. We walked up to the truck, unsure of what he should do next. He had a spare key in his wallet. He took it out and unlocked the door. Nobody was on the street. He opened the door and jumped in. He kicked the throttle once and turned the key. The old Chevy V-8 started and Pietro yanked the gear shift into drive and floored the truck. The back door of the bakery flew open and a grey haired man ran out.

“Los Bastardo! Stop. Fuck!” The man threw his hat into the street as Pietro tore around the corner, dirt flying from the pickup’s rear wheels.

Pietro’s heart was pounding. He looked in the rear view mirror. What was he doing? Now he’d have the coyote and Manuel and whomever that man was all looking for him. He drove like a madman straight to Valencia’s house.

Valencia was standing on the porch with her mother when Pietro’s truck slid to a stop in front of her house. They had been talking.

Pietro was stopped at the gate. The dust from his truck swirled about him and settled. The world seemed to stop as Pietro stared from the shade of the cab of his pickup at the two women on the porch. The two women looked dumbfounded back at him.

Valencia turned back to her mother and the two of them looked into each other’s eyes for a moment. Valencia’s mother put her hand on Valencia's arm and reached into her apron pocket.  She pulled out a small roll of bills, handed them to Valencia and gave a little nod.  Valencia's hand closed around the money, tears falling from her eyes.  She quickly hugged this woman who had given her everything her entire life, then she spun and ran towards the truck. She flew out of the gate and yanked open the door of the truck.

“Pietro, what is going on?” She landed on the seat and pulled the door shut just as Pietro hit the gas and the truck swerved back onto the street.

As he drove at high speed through town toward the highway Pietro told Valencia everything. The money, the truck, the drug deal he had agreed to with the coyote and was about to break. It didn’t take long. Valencia listened without so much as a word. By the time Pietro had stopped talking she had turned in her seat and was facing him, searching his face for an answer to this unanticipated turn of events.

“We have to run” she said.
Click here to go to part seven.