James Cain - Serenade

I lined up toward the town, so I could see, and tried to think. It all depended on whether I had been noticed, turning off the main street. If I hadn’t, I might be able to lay low till the moon went down and they were asleep, then go through the town fast, and be on my way to Mexico City before they even knew I had got away. I tried not to think about the ship.

In a minute or so, the sirens began to screech louder, and three single lights streaked out of town around the harbor. That meant they had no idea I was still around. They thought I was on my way to Mexico, and were out after me. That meant we would be safe here for a little while, maybe the whole night. But where it put me, when I did start up to Mexico, and met those patrols coming back, I hated to think. And Mexico was the only place you could go. There wasn’t any other road.

We sat there a long time, and then I knew she was crying. “Why you do this? Why you do this to me?”

“Don’t you know? Why I—” I tried to make myself say “I love you,” but it stuck in my throat. “I wanted you. I didn’t want him to have you.”

“That is not true. You go away.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You sing now, yes? You sing better anybody in Mexico. You stay in Acapulco, in a house? Why you lie? You go away.”

“I never even thought of it.”

“Now for me, very bad. No house, no. Maybe he shoot me, yes. I can no work more in Mexico. He is very big politico . I — why you do this? Why you do this?”

We sat there some more, and I wondered why I didn’t feel like a heel. She had called it on me all right, and I had certainly busted up her run of luck with plenty to spare. But I didn’t feel like a heel. I was in a spot, but my face wasn’t red. Then it hit me between the eyes: I wasn’t going to run out on her .

“Juana.”

“Yes?”

“Listen to me now. I’ve got some things to say.”

“Please, say nothing.”

“In the first place, you were right when you said I was going away, and I did lie to you. While I was out, pretending to look the town over, I arranged passage to the Estados Unidos del Norte , on a boat. I was to leave at twelve o’clock.”

“I know you lie, when you go out. Yes.”

“All right, I lied. You want to hear the rest?”

She didn’t answer for a long time. But you could always tell when something was going on inside of her, because her breath would stop for a two beat, and then go on. She turned her head to me once, and then looked away. “Yes.”

“When I went up to the hotel, I intended to take you out to dinner, sit around a while, then drift out to the caballeros , and not come back. Then you started off with him, and I knew I wasn’t going to let you go, and it wasn’t only that I didn’t like him. I wanted you myself, and I wasn’t going to let him have you, or anybody have you.”

“But why?”

“I’ll get to that. I’m not done yet. Now I’m going away. I told you I used to be a singer. I used to be a very good singer, one of the best in the world, and I made a lot of money, and I will again. But I can’t do anything in Mexico. I’m going back to my own country, the Estados Unidos del Norte . Now, here’s what I’m getting at. Do you want to come with me?”

“Is that very big country?”

“Much bigger than Mexico.”

“How you go?”

“We have the car, and you still have a little money. In a little while, after things quiet down, we’ll slip through the town and go as far as we can before daylight. Then tomorrow night, we’ll start out again, and with luck we’ll make Mexico City.We’ll lay low another day, and the next night we’ll be in Monterey. One more night and we’re at Laredo, and I’ll figure a way to get you across. Once we’re in my country, we’re all right.”

“That is impossible.”

“Why?”

“They know the auto. They catch us, sure.”

I knew that was right, even before she said it. In the United States, once you’re across a state line, you could go quite a while without being caught. But down there, the state line doesn’t mean much. Those guys with rifles, they’re federal troops, and with just a car now and then up that road, there wasn’t a chance they would miss us, night time, day time, or any other time. “... In bus, perhaps.”

“What was that, Juana?”

“Ride little way, hide auto. Then in morning, take bus. Maybe they no catch.”

“All right, we’ll do that.”

“But why? Why you no go alone?”

“All right, now we come to the big why. You like me?”

“Yes, much.”

“I like you.”

I sat looking at her, wondering why I couldn’t go the whole hog, tell her I loved her and be done with it. Then I remembered how many times I had sung those words, in three or four different languages, how phoney they sounded, and how much trouble I had in putting them across. Then it came to me that I hated them, not for what they said, but for what they didn’t say. They told it all except what you felt in your bones, your belly, and all those other places. They said you might die for a woman, but missed how hungry you could get for her, just to be near her, just to know she was around. “... I could make it stronger than that, Juana. Maybe I don’t have to.”

“They catch us, sure. They kill us.”

“You willing to take a chance?”

It was a long time before she said anything, and before she did she took my hand and pressed it. Then she looked up, and I knew that whatever it was going to be, there was no fooling around about it. It was the works... “Yes.”

A little tingle went over me, but what I said was dumb enough. “Yes, what?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you think it’s about time for us to pick out something for you to call me? I can’t very well keep on being Señor.”

“I call you Hoaney.”

I half wished she had picked out something different than what she had called every Weehawken slob that had showed up at her crib, but I didn’t say anything. Then something caught my throat. It came to me that she wasn’t calling me “Honey.” She was calling me Johnny — her way. “Kiss me, Juana. That’s exactly what I want you to call me.”

The town was dark now, and quiet. I started, pulled out of the grove, and got over the road. As soon as I could I went into high, not for speed, but for quiet. With all that stuff out of the car we didn’t make much noise, but I cut her back to the slowest roll that was in her, and we crept along until we got to the main street. I stopped, and listened. I didn’t hear anything, so I started up again, and turned the corner, to the left. I hadn’t put the lights on, and the moon was hanging low over the ocean, so the right side of the main street was in shadow. I had gone half a block when she touched my arm. I rolled in to the curb and stopped. She pointed. About three blocks down the street, on the left, where the moonlight lit him up, was a cop. He was walking away from us. He was the only one in sight. She leaned to me and whispered: “He go, so.”

She motioned with her hand, meaning around the corner. That’s how I went. I gave him about five seconds, then reached for the started. The car tilted. Somebody was beside me, on the running board. I still had the gun beside me. I snatched it and turned. A brown face was there, not six inches from mine. Then I saw it was Conners.

“Is that you, lad?”

“Yes. God, you gave me a start.”

“Where’ve you been? I’ve been looking all over for you! I’ve broken out my hook, I’m ready to go, I’m out of humor with you.”

“I got in some trouble.”

“... Don’t tell me it was you that hit the general?”