Percival Everett - The Body of Martin Aguilera

“I don’t want you dead.”

“Your men tried to run me off the road.”

“What can I say? If people followed directions I wouldn’t be here telling you to get a body you should never have seen.”

“What they say about good help and all that,” Lewis said.

Peabody chuckled.

“I don’t believe you’re going to let Maggie or me live.”

“You’ve seen too many movies. Look at it like this: If you don’t help me, we’ll kill her and we’ll kill you. That’s a given. If you do help? A chance anyway.”

“Just so I’m clear on this,” Lewis said. His hands were sweaty. He was cold. He wanted to laugh. He felt crazy. “You want me to get Martin Aguilera’s body and bring it to you. Then, you’ll let Maggie go.”

Peabody pointed a finger at Lewis. “That’s it. That’s perfect. That’s exactly what I’m saying to you.” He leaned back in the chair. “It’s a pleasure doing business with intelligent people.”

“I’m not sure I can get the body.”

“You can try. If you fail, you fail your friend. I kill you and that’s that. I’m glad you got the kid out of the way. That’s just too much to explain. Parents and all that, you know. But you, you I can explain. I can give you a heart attack. You can have a car wreck.”

Lewis tried to think of someone to tell. There was really only his daughter and he would only scare her. Everyone else would think he was insane, a paranoid old man.

“You can see the sort of thing I mean,” Peabody said.

“I’m surprised you don’t already know where the body is. I’m sure you had me followed.”

“I’m not here to discuss this with you. I want the body. You get it. Now, I think it’s time you were on your way.”

Lewis stood and walked to the door. He turned and looked at Peabody. He’d never really hated anyone before, but he hated this man. He watched the awful man’s face smile at him.

Lewis didn’t think about saying it, didn’t really know he was saying it, but he did say it, “If you hurt Maggie Okada, I will kill you.” He felt stupid saying it, felt like he had been tricked into saying it.

“Good day, Lewis.”

Lewis left. He drove to town and parked in the lot of Archie’s Lumber Company. He just sat there in his car, replaying all of it over and over, shaking his head and not understanding how any of it could be real, remembering how normal the day had been when he and Laura were off to pay a visit to old Martin. He waved at some people crossing the lot. They seemed to look at him a second too long.

Lewis checked his mirror as he drove through town and saw no van nor sign of anyone else following him. He parked in the grocery store parking lot, walked across the street and into a mineral and gem shop and exited through the back door. He crossed a vacant lot and was on the dirt road that went to the Episcopal church. He walked via backroads toward the plaza, realizing just how visible a six-foot, sixty-six-year-old, black man was in these parts. He found his way to the alley that ran behind the House of Boots. The back door was open and so he walked in.

He went to the curtain and looked at the room full of customers. A woman with a massive blonde hairdo was having her pre-school son try on fifty dollar snake-skin boots. A very large man had a peculiar, high voice and he was saying the boots in question were too tight. Salvador was sitting on a stool, his back to the store room, helping a couple of homosexual men in leather pants.

Salvador’s daughter Gloria was helping the mother and the very large man. She was a pretty young woman, a little heavy, but she bore her weight well. She wore a lot of makeup on her eyes. She saw Lewis.

Lewis smiled and waved at her.

“What are you doing there?” she asked.

Salvador turned around.

“I need to talk to your father,” Lewis told her. “Salvador?”

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” the old man said. He let his daughter know it was okay.

“Estos son — son.” One of the homosexual men searched for a word, standing on a thick-heeled boot.

Salvador helped him. “Corto? Apretado?”

“Which one means tight?” the man asked.

“Apretado,” Salvador said.

“Apre-tado,” the gay man said proudly, smiled at his friend. “Estos son apre-tado.”

Salvador said in English, “Would you like to try the next size up?”

“Please.”

Salvador got up and walked to the store room. He let the curtain down over the doorway behind him.

“I’m really sorry to bother you, Salvador, but I can’t help it. Please don’t be upset with me. I need Martin’s body.”

Salvador looked as if he wanted to run from his own store. He was terrified. “I cannot talk of this,” he said.

“Another life is at stake. We have to.”

Salvador turned away and studied a wall of boxes in the dim room. “I do not hear what you’re saying to me. Please, Lewis, leave now.”

“They’ve kidnapped my friend Maggie. I don’t know if you know Maggie Okada. She’s Japanese, short, about sixty. Oh, forget this—” Lewis stopped, and sighed a frown. “Salvador, I’ve been told that if I don’t turn over Martin’s body, they will kill her.”

Salvador sniffed.

Lewis turned away, then back. He thought Salvador was crying. He felt sick and guilty. He was breaking his word to this man. “I need your help, Salvador.”

Gloria pulled back the curtain and looked at Lewis and her father. “Que le ocurre?”

“Nada.” Lewis waved her back onto the floor.

The woman gave Lewis a threatening stare before going back to the customers.

“Please, Salvador.”

“I will not discuss this with you. Find Ignacio. He is a young man with a strong heart and he can talk to you. I am too old, too close to death. Please, just find Ignacio.”

“Okay, Salvador. You relax. Forget I was here.” Lewis was sure the man was crying now. “I wasn’t here, all right?”

Lewis left. He didn’t know where to find Ignacio. Had it been the evening he could have gone to the Best Western and asked Ernesto. He remembered that Ignacio for a while lived in Arroyo Azul.

He made his way back to his truck. It was already noon. The sun was high and it was hot. He longed to be up on the mountain. He wondered if all of this would go away if he just ignored it.

He pulled from the parking lot and drove north out of town, then east to Arroyo Azul. The land was beautiful out there, a small valley green and dotted with little places. Whites hadn’t moved into it yet because they were afraid of the Mexicans who were poor and who drove low-riders and played their music loud.

Lewis stopped in front of an adobe house with two junk cars on blocks beside it. An old sway-backed horse was tied to a tree with a rope around its neck. The horse looked up from its nibbling at the grass when Lewis pulled up, then put its head down again. A man was haying a field across the road. Lewis thought he had the right house. He knocked on the door.

A dog barked, then appeared, running full speed round the corner of the house. It was a Doberman and Lewis was not pleased to see him.

“Nice boy,” Lewis said.

The dog stood in the yard, between Lewis and his car, and barked, standing tense and ready. Lewis knocked again.

A teenage girl opened the door. She was pulling a robe closed about her small body.

“Does Ignacio Nunez live here?” Lewis asked.

The girl was groggy from sleep. “Yes, but he’s not here.”

Lewis looked at her face. “Are you Ignacio’s wife?” he asked, though he didn’t believe it.

The girl laughed. “He’s my father,” she said and she tilted her head down and looked up at him in that teenager way.