Payroll by William James Johnson Chapter 34

Waiting for Carlos to call was nerve wracking. Silky and Rona tried to console their servants, while Carmelita and Francisco expressed their sorrow for the loss of Miguel.
"We'll get them back...I promise. Even if it takes all our money."
"A man like Carlos makes me so ashamed to be a Mexican."
"It wasn't just Carlos...remember Hansen was the boss and he's an American. What I can't understand is someone selling children like that, with no feelings about what might happen to them."
"Money Senor. If Americanos did not have all that money to do whatever they want, there would be no chicken business."
"Eduardo told me you're nothing in Mexico unless you have power, and you have power only if you're rich."
"He's right Senor. But being rich does not mean you must be bad. You can use your power to build instead of destroy. You are rich, but you are a good man. Americanos, like most Mexicans are good people. It's those filthy rich bandits who use their power to corrupt the innocent who are evil. They can buy anything, even people, to do their killing for them. I despise them."
"And once this corruption takes hold of a country, it spreads like cancer," said Silky.
"It's true. That's how bribery has become a way of life. It's been with us so long, even the simplest peasant keeps a few pesos to grease the palms of civil servants. It's everywhere."
"Why don't your police stop it?"
"You're joking Senor. I saw a policeman in uniform use his gun to rob an Americano, and no one dared stop him. Some of us say that being a policeman is a licence to steal. It's so hard to be good when being bad gives you a better life."
"They can't all be bad."
"There are some good ones Senor...but they have learned that it is better to be blind and keep your job. I think Captain Juarez is an honest man. But who knows, even the good Captain can be bought if the price is right."
"This is a terrible situation. Someone has to fight back Francisco. Someone must try to save the soul of this country."
"How can we talk about saving the soul when the body is starving. You must have seen those tin shacks on the edge of Tijuana, where you come across the border. It is like that outside every big city in Mexico. Starving peasants who become the victims of these smuggling bandits, believing their children will be given a good home up north. They give their children to these filthy monsters because they think their kids will have a chance for a better life. They love their children. No one tells them how rotten these bastards are."
"Tell him about those people who cripple their children to make beggars of them," said Carmelita.
"If you go to Mexico City, within the shadow of the great Cathedral, you will find children who have had arms or legs bound up for years to cause their tiny muscles to stop working, so they can be used as professional beggars. Some poor parents prostitute their little kids for a few pesos...little boys and girls...like my Juan and Teresita. The thought of it makes me vomit. Then along comes a man like Hansen, who lies to these poor people, promising their children a better life in the states, and they become slaves for some rich landowner or rotten pornographer. There is no justice Senor."
"If I had my way, guys like Hansen and Carlos would be beaten and left to decay in prison. They're the scum of the earth," said Silky.
Rona looked at the clock over the mantle. It was after 10 and Carlos still had not called. "If he doesn't call by midnight I think we should let Juarez know."
"Si...Me and Carmelita agree...it's so hard not knowing."
"Okay", said Silky. I'll call him then. All this talk about those poor kids is getting me down. Talk about something else...something happier."
"What would you like to talk about Senor?"
"How about telling us something about you and Carmelita. We really don't know much about you."
"What would you like to ask me Senor?"
"Silky's not trying to quiz you Francisco," said Rona. "We'd like to know something about your childhood...where you lived...how you met...things like that. If you don't think we're being too nosey."
"You're not nosey Senorita. You're very good friends."
"Getting your family mixed up in this dirty business is not what I would call friendly," replied Rona.
"Please do not blame yourselves. You did not have the chicken business."
"Thanks Francisco for saying that. Me and Silky really appreciate it...Now what I'd like to hear is how you met and fell in love."
The magical word love, and the warmth of her voice, comforted the hurting Mexicans. It brought a tender smile to the worried face of this desperate father.
"I'm happy to tell you about me and Carmelita. Since we were children, there was never anyone else for me. Our farms shared a common stream. They were small farms, still our fathers managed to raise large families, something like your friend Fernando. We're almost the same age. People thought we were brother and sister because we were always together. It was a very happy childhood.
"When Carmelita was twelve, things changed. Suddenly without telling anyone, she was becoming a beautiful woman. They tell me our girls become women sooner than they do in your country. I think it was her rounding out in her chest that was the greatest surprise...Once it began, it went very quickly. It was so wonderful."
Carmelita looked down as he spoke, her tawny face darkening slightly.
"Please my love do not think me crude. You have always had the most beautiful breasts I have ever seen." For a moment it was as if they were alone. He stopped speaking, thinking maybe he was being too personal.
"Go on Francisco. I think it's wonderful to hear you speak so lovingly of your wife," said Rona.
"Is it all right Carmelita?"
"Yes Francisco. It's all right."
"I wanted to marry her then, but we had to wait. When we were both sixteen, we were given permission to marry. The whole village came to the wedding. It was fiesta time. Our parents let us marry because they knew we were in love, and Carmelita had a job looking after the children of a wealthy landowner. He hired me to take care of his animals. We were very lucky. Most young people don't have such a good start in life.
"We lived with him for a few years, then Juan was born. This rich farmer was like you Senor Silky...you and Senorita Rona. He treated our new baby like it was his own.
"Then tragedy struck. You may have read about it in your country. The farm which was in a beautiful valley was destroyed by one of Mexico's most treacherous earthquakes. A great flood followed, and the farmer and his family drowned while they slept. We had gone home because my father was dying. It was like God took my father, to spare us our lives."
"What a sad story. I'm sorry for you," said Silky, remembering how his own parents had drowned in Uncle Henry's dugout. "Please go on."
"This man knew many rich people...which in Mexico is a small number, and one of his friends, the man who used to live in this very house, asked us to come to work for him. We had no idea how he got his money. We were so glad to have a place to live. Two years later we had our darling Teresita. Oh my darling little baby...where are you my lovely child?"
The mention of his children made his voice break. He put his head down on his arm and wept softly. Carmelita embraced her husband and comforted him.
"I can't understand why Carlos hasn't called," said Silky, changing the subject.
"Look...It's been a terrible day for all of us. Why don't you get some sleep? I don't mind waiting up. If he hasn't called by midnight, I'll contact Juarez."
"I'd like to wait with you Silky," said Rona.
"Please Senor...I think we would like to wait too."
"Okay...If we're all going to stay up, I think we should have something to eat. I'm gonna make us a pizza. I don't know about you folks, but I'm starving."
"I'll make it for you Senor," said Carmelita.
"Okay...you make it, but only if Rona helps. She knows what I like on it."
The two women left the men in the family room.
"Thank you Senor for doing that. I couldn't go on. I cannot stop thinking about my little babies."
"I know Francisco. I just hope I'm doing the right thing."
"You are Senor. We must give him a chance to call us before we call the police. In my country the walls have ears. If we called the Captain, there is no doubt Carlos would hear about it right away. Then who knows what he would do to them."
"We've got about an hour to go...then I'm calling Juarez, whatever the risk."
"Senor Silky...would you mind if I asked you a question? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
"Of course, what is it?"
"What it said in the paper about you and Senorita Rona, is it true?"
"Yes...it's true."
"Why Senor? Why would you steal the money?"
"It's hard to explain amigo. I guess I did it because I wanted to be free. You said it yourself, money is power, and power makes you free."
"But did you not think it was wrong?"
"I honestly didn't think about it. No one was hurt. It was just money. I wanted to change my life and taking the money was the way to do it."
"I'm not trying to judge what you did Senor, but I cannot understand how you could take something that was not yours and it would not bother you."
"I was more concerned about not getting caught."
"And you still don't feel it was wrong?"
"That's your Catholic conscience talking Francisco."
"Maybe so Senor...I'm sorry to talk like this. It's just the way I am."
"You don't have to apologize. The world seems to be losing its conscience. It's refreshing to find someone who still knows right from wrong."
Their discussion was interrupted by the telephone ringing.
"Hello."
"Senor Silky?"
"Speaking."
"Simon Juarez. I have someone who wishes to speak to you."
The women joined them in the family room, anxiously waiting to hear the news.
"Poppa...It's me Miguel."
The sound of his voice sent an electric charge through his body.
"Miguel...What are you doing with the police? How are the other children? When are you coming home?"
"It's me again Senor."
"What has happened Captain? How are the children?"
"They are fine...just fine."
Silky pulled the receiver away from his mouth..."He said they're fine...Oh God...Thank you...Thank you."
"Senor?"
"Yes...go on Captain."
"You will not have to worry about Carlos anymore."
"What's happened?"
"Miguel said that two men who used to work across the border for Hansen...the ones who had been beaten by Fernando and Carlos, came to Hansen's house and had a fight with Carlos. He was beaten to death. Miguel saw the whole thing."
"Oh that poor kid...What a horrible experience."
"He is very smart, this son of yours. When they left, he called us. I guess Carlos felt that with Hansen gone, it would be a good place to hide out. He also told the kids he wanted to collect that cabinet he built to ship them into the states if he had to."
"It was still there?"
"Yes. Next to the bloody stain where Sanchez was found. When the two Americans broke in the front door, Miguel grabbed the kids and hid them in the cabinet. He knew how it worked. Miguel and Juan hid in the back of the cabinet, and the little girl hid in the front. Your boy was the only one who saw what they did to Carlos through the mesh that was stretched across the back."
"How did these guys know where Carlos was?"
"The story in the newspaper brought them out of hiding. They went to his studio first and wrecked it when he was not there. Then they came to Hansen's estate, where Sanchez lived when he was in Mexico. They knew all about it. They had been there many times to pick up little kids."
"And the men who killed Carlos?"
"We're watching for them at the border. I have put extra men on. They will not get past us. Miguel was able to pick them out of a mug book. You remember he was one of the five little fellows Carlos and Fernando helped escape. These guys are notorious Yankee smugglers."
"What about our kids? When will they be back."
"As soon as it takes me to drive to your hacienda. We are leaving now...I just thought you would like to know what happed to them. The waiting without knowing can kill you. Goodbye Senor."
Silky said thanks but Juarez had already hung up.
"They're on their way." With this, they hugged each other, sobbing quietly.

Please comment on your feelings about this novel. Also,would you like to read another of my novels, entitled, "Freement"? Thanks, Bill Johnson.