Dawg, I thought as I approached that exotic animal. I had seen llamas in books, but never one close up. Their mouths chewed, but they weren't eating anything. They just chewed and chewed, and scratched the hard ground with their hooves. Then one of them spit an orange gob in my direction. If I had had feet, they would have gotten wet. Then, as if to make a further comment about me, the llama lifted its tail and dropped four marble-sized turds that steamed in the morning light.
"You furry little cochino!" I scolded, then laughed.
I leaped and the wind carried me southward toward Selma and over vineyards and ranch homes. I flew across the bullet-riddled sign that announced Selma, Raisin Capital of the World, and spotted Crystal's house. I slowed my flight because I could make out Crystal's father on their front porch. His head was down and at first I believed he was crying because his shoulders were jerking. As I got closer I saw that I was wrong. He was pulling up a rusty nail with fingers as thick and callused as my dad's. His daughter was dead and, I guess, he was keeping busy. In his mind, the rusty nail had to go.
Three cars were in the driveway, and I suspected one was an unmarked police cruiser. It just had that look. But I was wrong there, too, because soon the front door opened and a man in a black suit came out, briefcase in hand. The briefcase seemed to weigh a lot, because the man's shoulder was slumped from carrying it. I realized immediately who he was. He was the man from a funeral home, and he had just conducted business with Crystal's dad and mom. Maybe he brought out brochures about caskets and headstones. I feared the discussion.
Full of sorrow, I swung my attention away and stared absently at the vineyards, where a blackbird on a wire was wiping its beak under a wing. "Crystal," I moaned. The blackbird, done with its primping, leveled its wings and jumped, the wire like a guitar string producing a metallic twang.
"Chuy" I heard.
I turned. It was Crystal, coming out of the vineyard, and she did not seem in the least shocked that my body was nearly gone. But I was troubled that her legs—how beautiful they were—were gone, as were most of her arms. Her long, brownish hair flowed, and the corners of her mouth were dented with the start of a smile.
Crystal approached me with the stumps of her arms out. What a rare gift for an average-looking dude like me! To be the object of desire! Crystal leaned her face to mine and gave me a light kiss, then one that was heavier, for her tongue touched mine in greeting. We clunked our heads together, bashful as ponies.
"Crystal," I whispered, my face in her neck.
"Chuy," she said back in a sweet whisper.
We kissed again and touched nose to nose. Was a ghost ever so happy?
We laughed and then became quiet when the funeral man's car pulled away, raising a long cloud of farm dust. We watched the car stop at the end of the drive, its brake lights deep red against the grayish morning.
We looked toward the house when the front door closed with a click. Crystal's father was gone, and the blackbird that I had seen earlier settled on the rail. The bird cleaned itself again, but beat its wings and lifted skyward when the door opened. Crystal's mother, shrugging into a coat, came out. She shaded her eyes, as if she was looking for her daughter, and, not finding her, began to tend to a potted plant's dead petals. I let Crystal pull in all the images of her mother that she could. I watched her take in, as if for the last time, her mother's dark hair, her face, her hands methodically pinching at dead flowers. Her mother then shaded her eyes and stared far away.
"Oh, Mother," Crystal moaned.
I lowered my head. Two ants were carrying a feathery seed that was three times bigger than them. The little guys had courage and purpose.
I waited a patient five minutes before saying, Let's go.
We turned, flowed a few inches from the ground, and found ourselves at the side of her house. Once more, I inspected the faucet where I had washed my face after the wasp stings. I gazed up at the barn, where the abandoned honeycomb nests mostly remained.
"Chuy," Crystal volunteered. "I missed you."
I swallowed that tender declaration.
"I missed you, too," I said. "God, I wish I knew—"
She cut me off, as if she could read my mind, and said, "But you know me now."
Our deaths would be remembered by family and a few friends who might think of us as they drove through the streets of Fresno and Selma. Let them remember us as okay kids—both of us long-distance runners who didn't get very far.
We leaped into the air and the wind took us.
"Where are we going?" Crystal asked. Her hair swirled in front of her face, which was pink from the cold wind.
I smiled at her. "Let's check it out," I answered without fear as we sailed over her farm and over a farm that was like hers, full of grapevines.
They say autumn is the color of death, and, for Crystal and me, it was true. We were like the tint of fallen leaves, grass burnt by the first frost, and the ashen-colored fog that sometimes rises from the valley floor and smothers our dreams. My dream had been to grow up, work a regular job, nothing special, hang out with friends, and be with someone special like Crystal. I received a portion of that dream and felt grateful for it. I loved her like no other. She flew at my side, southward toward what, I now knew, is called the afterlife.
* * *
Selected Spanish Words and Phrases
ay, dios oh, God
borrachos drunkards
cabrón bastard
los campos the countryside
cara face
carnal blood brother
chale no way
chavalo child
chicas girls
chicharrones pork rinds
chismosos/as gossipers
cholo gangster
chones underpants
la chota the police
churros doughnut-like pastry
"Cielito Lindo" a song
cochino Pig
cruda hangover
entiendes understand
feo ugly
feria cash
hijole wow
huango loose, misshapen
mala bad
menudo a soup
mi'jo my son
mi abuela my grandmother
mi novia my sweetheart
mi papi my daddy
mocosos snot-nosed kids
mota marijuana
nada más no more
nalgas buttocks
novio boyfriend
paleta Popsicle
panadería bakery
pan dulce sweet bread
pendejo stupid person
placa signature graffiti
primo cousin
pues well
puta whore
qué asco how disgusting
qué gacho what a mess/what a bad thing
quien sabe who knows
rancheras old-fashioned songs
raza Latino race
sapo toad
sin vergüenza shameless
suave cool
telenovela soap opera
tonto stupid
tripas intestines
vato cool guy
viejo old man
* * *