I own nothing, make no profit, but have enjoyed playing with all of the MM.
Thanks Jaime and Kate for their editorial powers and encouragement!
Stephanie's Gamble
Chapter 7 Hector
March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb, right? So why did I feel like March was going to put me in the eye of the storm known as Hector? You know, he appeared so calm on the outside but there was no way for me to know what was on the inside. Actually Hector was kind of like a box of Cracker Jacks, but I didn't really want to know what the surprise inside was. But it was his month and I was going to make the best of it.
Hector was the Merry Man I knew the least about. I could count on one hand the things I knew for sure, 1) he was member of a gang at one time, 2) he had gang tattoos, 3) he was gay, and 4) he was learning English but didn't speak it fluently, and 5) he was a gentleman around me. Oh yeah 6) he has never hurt me or put me in harms way. Anyway, what I knew now was enough to begin a relationship with any Merry Man, right? I mean when I got Tank shot a long time ago, and I didn't even know if he had a real first name.
Tuesday when I had just gotten settled into work for the day, I found an e-mail scheduling me to meet with Hector in Ranger's office at 9:00. Yeesh, good thing I was having a good hair day and I was on time this morning. There was no extra time to fluff my hair or add mascara so I moseyed down to Ranger's office.
Ranger and Hector were sitting at a small desk in the corner of the office laughing over coffee when I came in. Ranger was looking dangerous, as per his usual. Hector was dressed in his own style but still within the uniform guidelines. That meant that his clothes were about two sizes too big for him and there were lots of tattoos visible. Hector did have the most killer smile that would have given Lester a run for his money if Hector wasn't gay. I had recently been changing channels on the TV late at night and there was a video by this guy named 'Chelo' and the song was called 'Cha-Cha'. I didn't understand most of the words, but it had a good beat and the guy looked like he could have been Hector's brother, tats included.
"Babe," Ranger began, "I know that you and Hector are together this month, but you will be mornings in the office and afternoons to evenings with Hector. Since he is the office specialist on electronic installations he has cross trained a lot of the guys, but if a really big job comes in it is his first priority. If he wants to work the big jobs alone you'll have to find other ways to fill your time."
"No problem, you have to keep the company going," I said. I was crossing my fingers, just hoping that there would be a lot of big jobs coming in. I liked Hector enough to wave at him in the hallways and make brief small talk in the break room, but I was feeling goosey about spending time alone with him. Yeah, that's it, goosey.
Why couldn't he have gotten February? I would be a couple of days shorter with him, I could have defended myself, ok enjoyed myself, a little longer with Lester. Cripes, I never thought of Lester as a Merry Man I could trust myself to enjoy. Go figure. Then again, we were seldom without adult supervision.
I nodded trying to think how Hector and I were going to get through the month, pantomime, Pictionary, point and grunt? This was going to be a big pain in the whatzit, jeez. Good sport that I am, I just kept nodding, and nodding, and nodding and …. If this kept up, I was going to be confused with a bobble headed doll.
'Remember, Plum, you agreed to do whatever for a month with each Merry Man. Hector was up to bat, time to play "deal or no deal" and I guess the answer for today's contestant, Miss Stephanie Plum, is "deal."' I thought to myself.
"Steph, are you still with us here?"
"Sorry about that, Ranger, Hector. When do you want to get started, Hector?"
Ranger said a couple of things to Hector in Spanish, since my vocabulary is limited to a couple inappropriate phrases and words like "taco" and "burrito" I was pretty sure those weren't the things they were talking about. Too bad they weren't talking about food, I was getting a little hungry.
I was beginning to fantasize about possibilities for lunch when the Rangeman required ESP must have kicked in because both men laughed. Hector said, "Food?"
I, of course, nodded.
Hector took my hand and led me out of the office and took me down to the parking garage.
We got into the standard issue Rangeman black truck and headed out. The neighborhoods went from commercial to industrial, from industrial to modest income residential and down from there. A small, well worn but well kept house with a small chain link fence was evidently our destination. Hector got out first, opened my door and took my hand to help me out of the SUV. Such a gentleman, such a shame he's not on the market.
He smiled and pointed to the house saying, "La casa de mi tia, Alicia."
I nodded, smiling. As we walked through the yard and went to the door I noticed Hector kept his hand either on my back or draped over my shoulder, it felt nice but sort of possessive. Before Hector could knock the door was suddenly pulled opened by a middle aged woman who had a huge grin on her face. She pulled Hector into a hug and kissed him on both cheeks speaking very quickly in Spanish. When she finally let go of him, she did the same with me. Now my family isn't all that demonstrative, so I wasn't really sure how to take what was going on, I mean she looked so happy and so relieved that I had come with him.
Hector didn't get a chance to say a word edgewise, this woman could have been from the 'Burg, her mouth never slowed down! She immediately started to say something to me in Spanish, I had no idea what it was and must have looked dazed and confused because she started again, more slowly and this time in English.
"I am sorry, I just assumed you spoke Spanish. You don't, do you? Canelo's friends all speak Spanish. Never mind, let me introduce myself I am Canelo's aunt, Alicia Garcia. You can either call me Tia or Alicia the choice is yours."
Didn't this woman ever come up for air?
"Nice to meet you, Alicia. I am Stephanie Plum. Please call me Steph. Excuse me, just who exactly is Canelo?"
She laughed and pointed at Hector, said something else rapidly, he blushed and nodded. She said, "Canelo is what the family has always called Hector. When Hector was a little boy he was the color of a cinnamon stick. His skin, his eyes and his hair were all a beautiful shade of light brown. His hair has gotten darker over the years, but he is still Canelo to us. Enough talking at the front door, it is time to get to lunch.
The kitchen table would have made any burg housewife proud, it easily sat 10 and it looked like it often did. Today, the table was set for the three of us.
Lunch was something she called Arroz con Pollo, but it was much more than rice and chicken, there was ham and olive in the dish. She laughed that, "I believe that haste makes waste, and I had a little ham that was left over, so why not?"
It was succulent, it was delightful, it was filling, it could easily be my new comfort food! After lunch, which was devoured in silence, I asked how hard it was to make. What? I always make an effort not to moan in front of strangers. Sometimes it works and sometimes not.
"It all depends on how large a skillet you have and how much time. It is pretty easy, relatively cheap, but you need the time to get all of the flavors to meld. I can teach you sometime if you want," Alicia said.
"No, that's OK, my largest skillet does two eggs and that's about it. I don't think I am ready to make a commitment to a large skillet right now."
Both Hector and Alicia laughed. Hector said, "I can help you, if you want, with the skillet."
Alicia chided him, "Are you sure you don't want to help her with the commitment?"
He looked at her and asked her to restate it in Spanish, and he said with a smile, "No, ella no es mi novia. Ahorita somos solamente amigos, nada mas. Te prometo." (No, she isn't my girlfriend. Right now we are only friends, nothing more. I promise you.)
Hector said to me, "Tia thinks I need a girlfriend, but I think other things right now are more important."
"Hector, I need all the friends I can get. I hope you are OK if we leave it at that for right now," I said. Hector smiled so I must have said the right thing.
Hector asked Alicia something, they spoke to each other rapidly in Spanish. Alicia said to me, "Of course he is a fine friend. But between you and me, Stephanie, I would love to see him in a happy, committed relationship."
"That is what my mother wants for me, too. Unfortunately what we want for others isn't always what they want for themselves. Alicia, would you like help with the lunch dishes?"
"No, but thank you for offering. Canelo has some things in the truck he needs help with."
Hector blushed and led me out the front door. When we got to the truck, he began to unload a couple of large boxes of food staples and an ice chest.
He said, "Sorry about my tia, she is, how do you say it, nosy. Yes, she's a little nosy about me. Please take these inside," as he handed me one of the boxes.
I carried the box to the house while he followed with two more. Alicia asked me to start unloading my box while Hector went to get the ice chest. There was a mountain of food to be sorted and put away. I doubted there was enough room for it all. After half an hour of sifting, sorting and sifting again the staples were all put away and Hector had taken care of the stuff in the ice chest.
Home delivery of groceries, a new Merry Man venture I was wondering to myself.
Hector did the ESP thing with me and said, "She is good to me, and she is family. I help her sometimes."
Alicia started to say something when Hector hushed her. They spoke rapidly again in Spanish, exchanging nods and smiles.
She said to me, "Canelo has to get back to work for something this evening. I am glad he brought you. You are welcome anytime, I hope you can come back."
With that she kissed me on both cheeks and did the same to Hector. She walked us to the door and waved us good bye.
Hector once again draped his arm over my shoulders on the way back to the truck. He opened the door for me, helped me in and closed it again. We went back to Rangeman in silence.
We were greeted in the comm. room by Ranger. Hector and Ranger did the ESP thing and then Hector headed in another direction.
"How was it today, Babe?" Ranger asked.
"It was nice, I had a good time," I replied.
"Do you think you will be OK with Hector this month?"
I just nodded.
"Glad to hear it. I will be looking at real estate out of town most of the month. Because of the language barrier, if you need help, contact Lester. I have a feeling Lester will be around anyway."
Who did he think I was that I always wanted/needed adult supervision? Then again, if the whole mime thing didn't work out, Lester might make a good translator.
Ranger's phone began to ring and in under five words he was gone again, vanished just like smoke. One of these days I wanted him to teach me how to do that.
The next day, Hector was at my cube and asked, "Lista? I mean ready?"
I nodded that I was and I shut down my computer for the day.
We headed back to the parking garage, he did the whole gentleman thing of opening the door and helping me in; a girl could get used to this, you know?
The truck seemed to drive itself to a part of Trenton I wasn't too familiar with. It was an industrial area near the rail road tracks. I looked over to Hector who was in the typical Rangeman zone, was that a job requirement or what? When I finally got his attention, he said to me, "Almost there."
"Where is there, Hector?"
He pointed in the distance to a tiny nondescript building. On the top it read "Child Crisis Nursery" and it looked like that was where we were going. This didn't seem to be the kind of a place that could afford Rangeman services, probably wouldn't need them.
We parked along the side of the building. It was large, clean and very industrial. There was a small fenced in play area for young children just outside the front doors. As we entered, several people nodded to Hector and he acknowledged them with a tilt of his head, saying nothing, typical Rangeman.
A woman in her early 30s rushed out from behind the front desk and greeted him. Like yesterday, there was the affectionate hug, kissing on the cheeks and a quick exchange in Spanish. It felt like déjà vu all over again, except this time it didn't seem like lunch was going to be involved, drat it all.
Before the woman had a chance to say anything to me, Hector said, "Claudia, this is Stephanie, my friend. Stephanie this is Claudia."
She took my hand in hers and said, "Nice to meet you Stephanie. Canelo is very special to us."
Hector shot Claudia a look that clearly said, "Enough." Even though I now knew there was a softer side to Hector, I don't think he was ready for me to know just how soft the softer side was.
Evidently the message was quickly received. "Ok, Ok. Do you have something for us today, or just visiting?" she asked.
"Two boxes today, it is all I have. I wanted to be sure you were here first."
I followed him to the truck, again with the arm draped over the shoulder, the whole touching thing again.
Judging from the back of the truck, it seemed like someone had been playing Santa. There were two boxes that were overflowing with like new toys. I was puzzled by the contents, but decided silence was the best choice.
We delivered the boxes to Claudia and got ready to leave when several small kids ran up to him and threw their arms around his legs and waist. One of them cried, "Did you come to play with me today?" Before he could respond, a small boy said, "No, I am his favorite, he is here to play with me."
Hector gently removed their hands from his body and smiled, he said to them, "Today I am with her," he indicated to me, "Next time, I promise. OK?"
A small voice said, "What's so great about her anyway?"
Hector said, "You are my friends, but she is also my friend. It is good to have many friends, right?"
The small voices said, "I guess" and "Right" but clearly they weren't buying it.
After the kids realized he wasn't either staying or playing, he called goodbye to Claudia and we headed back to the truck. Again with the touching and the manners thing, maybe I could get used to being treated like a lady after all.
"To the office?" I asked.
"No, we have another place," he said quietly.
He drove in the typical Rangeman zone but he had the radio on to some channel that picked up Spanish language ballads. We hadn't gone too far before we reached another small, nondescript building. This one had a more dominant sign on the front stating proudly "Boys and Girls Club."
Same drill as before, wait for Hector to open my door, let him help me out, blah, blah, blah. It would be faster if he believed I could open my own doors, but it made him happy and I was still a little worried about the tattoo of the teardrop. Better to keep Hector happy.
When we got to the front desk a young boy smiled up at him and asked, "Can you fix it for sure this time?"
Hector smiled at him and simply said, "Yes."
Hector and I wandered the building to a little room that was full of kids sitting around tables and desks with vaguely familiar looking computers and monitors. Hector went to the table where the sole adult was sitting looking bored and they had a brief conversation.
The adult introduced himself to me as John. John told the kids they needed to shut down for a little while so Hector could work on the network. There was audible groaning and moaning. Whines of, "why now" and "does he hafta do it today" could be heard. John took no bull and no prisoners and made the kids leave.
Hector went to John's desk and started to do some kind of voodoo on the computer. After a while of not being satisfied, he opened the briefcase of tools and started to unbutton the PC. He swapped some boards and played with connections and mumbled to himself. It seemed like he worked for hours in silence, but it was really only about 45 minutes. He put the PC back together, rebooted the system and fiddled some more. Finally he smiled, went and found John who got the kids. It was time to leave.
It was still early in the afternoon when we got back to the office on autopilot. Hector drove us back to the office on auto pilot. He was acting like he was trying to make a decision about something. When we got to the elevator, he asked me to wait for him at my desk. The doors opened and we parted company and I got back to my regular day.
A few minutes later, Hector and Lester were both at my desk, smiling. What the heck?
Lester said, "Beautiful, Hector wants to go over some stuff with you and he wants to make sure the language thing isn't going to be a problem. He has asked me to translate."
"Ok. Shall we adjourn to the break room?"
"He's kind of a private guy," no kidding, "and he doesn't want everyone to know what all he's got going on. So we are going onward and upward to his place."
There was the typical silence in the elevator. Whatever. Lester got out first, leading the way again. Hector held the elevator door for me and guided me down the hallway. With such nice manners you would never suspect he had ever had a gang affiliation, go figure.
Most of the Merry Men had big entertainment centers and oversized leather furniture, not Hector. Hector's apartment looked it was sort of like going to the backroom of some kind of a repair shop. There were boxes of computer parts, assorted toys, tools everywhere and a couple of work benches. The walls were decorated with bookshelves, virtually all of the titles I could see were in Spanish and appeared to be well read. There was a small bed in the corner and a couple more tables in the dining area but it looked like no one ever ate there. There was a threadbare sofa and a coffee table which was where Hector directed us to sit.
Lester waved his arm around the place like he was Vanna White on Wheel of Fortune flipping the next letter. In his best radio announcer voice he said, "Welcome to Canelo Laredo's Repair shop. He fixes anything and everything from old manual typewriters to the latest gizmos that are electronic."
"Very nice," I said.
"Ok Beautiful, you already know that Hector does the complex electronic installations for Rangeman, right? Haven't you ever wondered how he got smart enough to do all that?" Lester asked.
"Yeah." I was being eloquent again. Jeez.
"Steph, since you are doing your month with Hector, he wants you to be one of the few people around this place who really does know him. Most of what he looks like and the way he acts on the street are just a front for a really nice guy."
Ok.
"He's only 24 and has been here in Jersey for four years. He was raised in Hermosillo, Sonora about 100 miles from the Arizona/Sonora border. He was actually born in Douglas, Arizona and so he's got US citizenship. So does his brother. They are both here in Jersey now."
"Keep going, Lester."
"I'm getting there. Anyway, he was going to the university studying engineering when his mom died four years ago. The family had no way to support him or his younger brother when she died. The guys decided it was time to exercise their options and come to live in the US. You met Alicia Garcia, right?"
"Right."
"She's his mother's sister. She took Hector and his brother, Chuy, in when they decided to come north. Chuy finished high school here and Hector started working his engineering and electronics skills on the wrong side of the law for a while. School forced Chuy to learn English; Hector didn't want to learn English and found a group of people he could be with where language wasn't a barrier."
"Hector, why didn't you want to learn English?" I asked.
Hector and Lester talked a bit between themselves before Lester answered the question.
"Hector wants to know why you don't want to get to know your gun better."
"Huh? What does that have to do with anything?" I asked.
"Actually, it has a lot to do with it. Hector knows enough English to keep out of trouble but not enough to always follow complete conversations. Before he was at Rangeman it just wasn't important. Why should he take the time to learn something that he wasn't going to need or use? Now what he wants to know is, why don't you want to learn to use your gun?" Lester asked.
"Jeez. Hector and I are more alike than I want to think. I guess I don't want to learn my gun because it is one more thing to be responsible for. You, Lula and the guys are usually with me if things get dangerous or serious, so I really don't need to know. I mean I know how to make it go 'bang' and which direction the bullets go in, that's enough for me."
"Yeah, but sometimes we aren't there. Wouldn't it be safer if in a dangerous or serious situation you knew you could handle it on your own? How would you handle a weapons failure? Do you know the best way to carry concealed on your body? Do you just like to use your gun as a way to weigh down your purse? These are things you really should think about."
"I guess. I just never really thought of it that way before. Is that how Hector thinks about English? That someone else is usually there who can fill in the blanks for him, so why bother?"
"Pretty much, but not quite. Learning English has been a bother, he's been through a lot of change in culture, family and education. In Mexico he was at the top of everything and it was effortless; he isn't at the top here and it's hard for him. He wants to go back to school, but it's a daunting prospect. No one likes to start their life over."
The two men talked a little more and then both smiled.
Lester wiggled his eyebrows as he said, "He'll make a deal with you. He'll make a real effort to learn English and get back into school. First he has to pass the TOEFEL exam, he'll study if you start getting serious about your gun. You'll trade English for firearms during this month in addition to installs, he's even going to throw in basic breaking and entering. What do you say?"
What could I say? This felt like blackmail. I was a mere pawn on the chess board getting played with again. I mean, if I agreed I was going to be stuck at the range for endless hours shooting at little paper men who had never done me any harm. Basic breaking and entering might be good, I mean the rest of the world could get into my apartment without a key, why shouldn't I? If I didn't agree, Hector may or may not go back to school and really make a big change in his own life. Yep, blackmail. Definitely this felt like blackmail.
"I'm in. But we are going to have to do some of this together, translator boy. Do I get one specific coach for shooting, or do you guys trust me to go to the range on my own?"
"The whole team will take turns coaching you in shooting over time, but this month it will be part of what you do with Hector."
"Les, as long as we are doing the whole question and answer thing here, how did Hector get a job at Rangeman? This isn't the kind of place the puts ads in the Sunday paper."
"Hector's aunt knew Ranger's mom somehow. They used to do the morning coffee thing and it came up that Ranger was needing someone good with electronics and that Hector might just be that someone. Initially Ranger kind of liked the fact that Hector had all the tattoos and didn't speak a lot of English, the clients didn't get in Hector's way during an install and Hector didn't dawdle while he was there. It was what Hector needed to clean up life."
"Hey Les, can you get him to fill in some blanks for me?"
"I can ask. What specifically do you want to know about?"
"What's with the toys for the crisis nursery place and the computers at the Boys and Girls Club?"
"I can answer part of that. Ranger is always looking to keep up a good civic profile, you know? Donating the computer systems for the kids at the club does two things. First it gives a designated charity for Rangeman to use for its old computer equipment. Second it gives the kids in the neighborhood access to technology their families could never afford."
Just like Ranger, finding a way to better the community and having good business practice. No wonder he did so well in business.
"Ok, that's one thing. How about the Child Crisis Nursery? What gives there?" I asked.
"Some of our old cameras and equipment are there to monitor and protect the women and children who are in battered and abusive relationships. Rangeman does the monitoring as a civic thing," Lester told me. He continued, "When the guys' kids, nieces or nephews outgrow their toys or there is a problem with them, we give them to Hector. Hector likes to keep his hands busy when he isn't working. When the toys are in back in good shape they go to the crisis nursery."
"Is this a big secret or something? I mean if I had known I would have given Val's kids toys to you guys."
"Not so much of a secret as something private. Not all of us are from good family backgrounds and some of our moms took us places like that when we were little to keep us safe. We don't like to think about the sad parts of our pasts; it is a way we all get to give back. Hector doesn't have any kids and had a pretty good childhood, but he saw a lot of poverty in Hermosillo."
The two guys put their heads together and talked softly for a little longer. I felt like a fifth wheel, someday I've got to learn Spanish. They smiled and rose from their seats.
Hector said to me, "Tomorrow, you and me all day here. OK?"
"Sure, no problem Hector," I said. Lester and I headed out to leave the apartment when Hector and Lester did the "man hug" thing, odd. Then Hector reached over to me, gave me a hug and kissed me on both cheeks. Strange. I never thought of Hector as being the touchy feely type, but he seemed to do it every time we met and parted.
After we left the apartment I called Lester on it. "What was that about at the end, Les?"
"You know how he opens all the doors for you and won't let you open bottles and stuff?" I nodded. Lester continued, "It is a cultural thing. You embrace your friends and family when you say both 'hello' and 'good bye' in lots of Latin families; Hector is starting to think of you as family, it is quite the compliment. By the way, he also wants you to start calling him 'Canelo'. You have made it to the inner sanctum, Bomber."
The next morning I didn't even go to the comm. floor, I headed straight to Hector's apartment. When I got inside, we did the whole hug and kiss thing from yesterday. He had me sit over by the workbench. There was a box of toys that looked to be in rough shape, another box of rags and some cleaners. Guess we were doing the toy thing today.
"Hector," I started.
"Canelo," he said.
"Ok, Canelo. Are we both cleaning, because I can clean but I can't fix anything."
"I know. You clean. I fix. We have lunch and do something else."
His English didn't sound too bad, a little stilted and uncomfortable, but not bad at all. I cleaned toys and passed them to him for inspection. Those that passed, he fixed. Those that didn't got passed back to be cleaned again. We mostly worked in silence and before I knew it, it was time for lunch. My stomach growled to make sure he knew exactly what time it was.
He stood, handed me a briefcase with some tools and picked up a box with a bunch of cables in it. "Time to eat. Let's go," he said.
We headed for the parking garage, when Ranger called out to Hector. Ranger said something really fast in Spanish and the only word I recognized was "napoleon". Hector seemed to be agreeable and we left. What, napoleon is a food word, actually a pastry word, and I'm good with food and even better with pastry.
We got into the truck, the radio went on and Hector was in his 'zone'.
We eventually pulled into a strip mall. There was a small restaurant with very little signage, all of it was in Spanish. You could tell it had been there forever. The place was pretty much empty and there didn't appear to be anyone working the front. Hector shouted something to the back of the room and we sat down. Eventually someone came out with menus. Hector didn't even open his and I couldn't read mine. I asked Hector to order something for me as long as I got a Coke.
A few minutes later a bowl of chips and three kinds of salsa appeared on the table. We both dove in, I looked for the one that was the most mild, I think Hector wanted the one that was the most powerful.
When we had almost finished the bowl, the server brought two identical plates with the biggest burritos I had ever seen, not to mention the rice and beans.
I looked at it and before I could say anything, Hector said, "Carne asada. Steak with tomatoes, onions and guacamole, it's good."
I smiled, he smiled and then he dug in. Not to be outdone, I did the same. Oh my, it was an explosion of tastes that were perfectly melded. Just enough spice, just enough tomato and just juicy enough to take three napkins. I must have moaned because Hector gave me a strange look more than once. Whatever.
It took me no time to finish what was on my plate and realize that neither of us had said a word since we started to eat. When we were both done, Hector shouted something again aimed at the backroom. A grunt came as the reply. Hector stood, opened his wallet and threw some money on the table.
"Time for some fun now," Hector said as he guided me out of the restaurant and into the SUV.
We hadn't been back in the SUV for very long before Hector pulled into another strip mall. There was a sign I could read, hey it was in English. The sign read, "European Bakery" hmm sounded good to me, especially since that appeared to be where we were headed. Oh boy!
It was small and nondescript kind of like the taco place we had just been, lots of small and empty tables, signs were posted in three or four foreign languages. At the front of the store was HEAVEN. It was a bakery case that was bigger, brighter and fuller than anything the Tasty Pastry ever thought of having! It was filled with a lot of French, luscious lovelies that smelled so good that I might give up jelly doughnuts forever. Then again, maybe not.
A petite man with white hair and mustache came out from the back room. He took one look at Hector and me and went back into the back. Another man, much younger came to the front. Slowly looking up he asked in heavily accented English, "Can I help …"
The younger man immediately became quiet, ran round to the front of the case and hugged Hector like he hadn't seen him in years. A flurry of Spanish was exchanged between the two men, smiles and more hurried conversation. I was feeling out of place.
Eventually, they realized I was there. The younger man turned to me, hugged me and then twirled me around several times. When he finally put me down he said, "Sorry, just excited to meet you in person. I am Hector's brother, Chuy."
I see. Why on earth would he be excited to meet me?
Hector came over to me, put his arm over my shoulder and nodding in the direction of his brother, said, "I didn't know he was here today. We are working in the backroom today."
The two men became animated again, words flying like Frisbees in the park during summer. I was still feeling out of place when I found myself being ushered into the backroom. It was typical for a professional bakery: several ovens against the walls, several large refrigerators, a large sink, racks of ingredients, and four stainless steel work tables. The walls were decorated with postcards and old calendars. In one corner there was another stainless steel table with a microwave oven that was used as a desk. Above the desk area there was an old stereo system with components on several shelves.
Hector said to me, "This is today's lesson."
"I don't cook, surely you can't expect me to cook!" I said the panic was rising in my voice.
"We are fixing and wiring the stereo," Hector said.
"Oh, thank God," I said much relieved.
I hadn't realized he brought in his briefcase in with him. He opened it and extracted a number of wires like you'd see at a Radio Shack; speaker wires and red and white RCA patch cords. Even in college I hadn't wired my own stereo, my roommates usually did that and now all I had was an old radio so no need to learn what this stuff was for. Dillon wired my TV to my DVD player, so there was really no need to know what was going on.
It was decided to leave the components in place and I would pass the gizmos, wires and things to Hector as he asked for them.
Hector would mutter, fiddle with something and mutter some more. Finally I said to him, "Does Ranger know this is what we are doing today? I mean, is he really paying you to do this?"
Chuy, who had been watching us, answered for Hector, "He's doing it for the pastry. My brother splits his take with Ranger."
Ah, I see. Hector can be bought for pastry, good to know. Wait a minute, you can pay Ranger off with pastry? I've never seen him get excited about anything at the Tasty Pastry.
I must have had quite the look on my face because Hector said, "Special pastry, you'll see."
Now I am a girl who has never met a pastry she didn't love; but what was so special about this, anyway? I was guessing I would have to wait until Hector was done doing his magic on the stereo.
Hector got done, smiled at his brother and said, "Anything else?"
Chuy looked puzzled before he answered, "No. Why English today? You don't like English."
That brought another flurry of Spanish, more smiling, laughing and nodding. Everyone wandered back to the front of the bakery, somehow the case was opened and two large boxes were produced.
"What is your pleasure, ma'am?" asked Chuy.
'Oh, God, just look at this case, what wouldn't be my pleasure,' I thought to myself. Aloud I said, "What's good? I mean, what do you recommend?"
"It all depends on what you like. We have plain napoleons, peach, strawberry, mocha, hazelnut, white chocolate and chocolate. There are also the éclairs and cream puffs."
'Couldn't I just have one of each?' I thought to myself.
"Sure, you can have one of each," the brother said with a smile.
Fudge, must have been thinking out loud again.
"I didn't really mean that. I mean. What I mean is, it all looks so good I'd like to buy one of everything, but don't think I have that much money."
"Your money isn't good here, Stephanie," he said. "When you are with my brother, all the pastry you want is free. It is how we pay him. He handles all the electrical emergencies and minor stuff like today."
Ah. Ok. Work for food, novel concept but definitely one I could get behind.
My eyes must have glazed over because Hector said to me, "One box for you, that's it."
I smiled up at him, knowing one box might not be enough, "Why one?"
"You can't have more than Ranger. Ranger always gets one box," he said.
Ranger? Ranger always gets one box? Of pastry? The high priest of his own personal temple with a box of pastry, who would have thought? Does Ella know about this? Should I alert the media? Is this one of the signs of the Apocalypse?
"Yes, Ranger," Hector said, "likes this pastry. It is different from what Ella makes. The owner won awards for many years in Europe and in Asia."
While all this talking was going on, two boxes were filled to overflowing. Then it was time to go.
Hector did the man hug thing with his brother and the owner. The owner came over to me and did the two kiss thing really fast. The brother took me in his arms, twirled me again and kissed me on both cheeks. This was feeling surreal; it was like I had changed countries without leaving the county. Everyone Hector knew was touchy feely and they wanted to touchy feely me. I wondered how this would have worked out if Ranger had been with me, probably not so touchy feely. Hmmm?
Once we got back to the office, Hector sent me to his apartment to wait for him. The stinker took both boxes of pastry with him. Evidently he gave one to Ranger, because he only had one with him when he came back.
He got a book from the shelf and handed it to me. "This is the afternoon, now English." It was a text book for English as a second language; I guess just call me Ms. Plum tutor extraordinaire.
I must have been looking disappointed at the lack of sweets.
"After English, pastry. OK?" Hector asked.
Great, more blackmail. But when luscious looking pastry was being held hostage, what should a girl do? Of course I agreed.
We set a timer and set to work on basic vocabulary words. I was trying to see how much he really knew and he was surprised at how much he already understood.
By the time we were done, it was almost time to leave when I got my reward. Hector got out two forks and plates, then he put one piece of pastry on each plate. With the first mouthful all I could think was, 'Oh my. Oh god. Oh my god.' If heaven had a taste, this was it. I mean I have eaten some good food, but never anything like this. The cream was sweet without being too sweet. The texture was perfect. I knew I would never get tired of eating it. Now, at last I knew, I could die happy. If I ever had to, I could replace sex with this stuff it was so good; Ok maybe not replace sex completely, but it gave way to all sorts of fantasies. It was something to think about.
I have always had use of the Rangeman gun range at my disposal, I just never felt disposed. Now every morning before my shift, I had to meet Hector there. He looked over my Smith & Wesson .38 and decided to give me something different from the weapons locker, it was a Smith & Wesson Model 34 Kit Gut in .22. He told me it would be easier on my hand for practice but worked just like my regular carry gun.
I was getting better because I didn't worry about the kick I got from the .38, but still felt guilty about putting holes in those little innocent paper men. Just as soon as I got comfortable with the target at one distance, Hector would change the distance to make it harder for me. Thanks, buddy.
Sometimes if I wasn't looking, he would switch the .22 I was practicing with for the .38 I carried; I wouldn't know until I pulled the trigger what had happened. When I called him on it he said, "You need to be aware of everything." Both Tank and Ranger would have been proud of his answer. It just made me a little pissy.
Realistically, I couldn't argue with his answer could I? I mean he couldn't switch guns on me if I were paying attention. I needed to be aware of my surroundings even when I thought I was with people I liked and trusted. Wonderful.
After the range, I would do my thing upstairs for a while. Sometimes we did the lunch thing together and sometimes not. We never did make it back to the aunt's house, I think Hector was afraid of the girlfriend and commitment questions.
We spent several afternoons doing basic installations. When Lester would join us, the jobs took twice as long as when we were alone. Maybe there was something to be said for not speaking the same language, it required you to do the work and be done and over with it.
Most days when the installs were over, we hit the books. After we were done with the books, there was more of that glorious pastry. I knew he was working on his vocabulary at night after I left because he kept trying to show off new words that we hadn't been covered before.
Sometimes he would try a new word and use it in the wrong context, so if you didn't really know what he was getting at you might get the wrong meaning altogether. It could be a bit of a puzzlement to do the vocabulary thing, on more than one occasion I had to call Lester to try to figure out what Hector meant opposed to what he said. It would have been funny if it had only happened the one time, but it seemed like I was calling Lester every day so we could work out what he really wanted to say and how to say it.
Lester, the rat, had told Ranger about the vocabulary lessons and gun range swap. Ranger was jealous he hadn't thought of something like that earlier so my gun and I would become friends. When Ranger was in town he'd stop by some evenings and check the vocabulary progress and find out how I was doing with the installation stuff. Ranger would ask about the range; I never admitted that sometimes Hector changed my gun on me.
The more we were together, the more comfortable we got around each other. It seemed like the more we were together, the more I found him putting an arm around my shoulder or our legs would be touching under the table. And always there was he kiss both 'hello' and 'good-bye'. Seemed that Hector was a very tactile person and just enjoyed touching, not my family's thing, but I could make the adjustment.
On the days when things were slow at Rangeman, we would deliver toys to the crisis place or check in on the Boys and Girls Club. The kids got used to seeing me with Hector, but they were never pleased. I took away their favorite playmate when he was with me.
Ah, I hadn't realized that by training in installs, I was also training in how to take the smaller systems apart. Duh. Maybe this was how I was going to learn B&E, hmm. I'd have to check with Hector to see if I was right about that.
After the job taking things apart, I asked more questions about how to bypass things and how things worked. Proudly, he answered every question – some of the answers were done in mime and some using a mixture of languages but I always got the message; I could do this if I tried.
The second to last day of the month, I found my own set of lock picking tools left on my desk with a card signed simply from Canelo. Did this guy know how to pick a girl a present or what? I was touched, I was beside myself, I was wondering when I'd get to use them!
The next day we went back to the European Bakery we had a big box of locks with us. We entered the building from the back, evidently they were expecting us because neither man lifted so much as an eyebrow at our arrival. There were grunts of "hey" and "que onda" but that's about it, no surprise no exaltations, no hugging and no kissing. The bakery had some big, fancy wedding to do the cake for and the bride was due shortly to pick it up.
Hector got two small chairs from the front and brought them to the backdoor. He unloaded some screwdrivers from his kit and then started to dismantle the lock that was on the door. It looked easy enough. Then he said, "Now you learn to put it on, I show you how to open it easily, then we take it off again." So that's what we did. We did it with several different locks of differing makes and models. It didn't seem all that difficult, but the door was open most of the time and I knew if I knocked I could get back in.
After three hours Hector decided we had had enough for the day. He exchanged words with his brother and we all wandered to the front of the display. We did the two boxes thing the first was filled with the plain napoleons, and this time with just a wink but not a word, the second box was being filled with one of everything.
When we got back to the office, Hector made a show for the monitors of kissing me on both cheeks and handing me Ranger's box of pastries. Hector got off on four and I went on to the comm. room. Knowing I was being watched, I hightailed it to Ranger's office. I knocked on the closed door.
"Hey Ranger, anybody home?" I asked.
"Yeah, Babe. Come in and make yourself at home," came Ranger's reply.
"I've got a delivery for you from Canelo," I said.
"Canelo now is it?" he asked.
"It's been Canelo for a long time. It just slipped. I try to keep it Hector here, but he likes Canelo when it is the two of us or when we are at one of his job sites. I think he likes me."
"Babe, I know he likes you. You do know he won't even let me call him 'Canelo' just you and Lester. He likes me because I am his employer, but he likes to keep some distance between employer and employee."
"Anyway, I've got your box of napoleons from the bakery. Thank you for letting us go and play with the locks there."
"Excuse me? You did what with Hector?" he asked sounding far less than pleased.
"You know, you've promised I would learn some basic B&E. Hector said the same things to me. You never gave me a commitment on learning B&E and Hector did. You're a busy guy and Hector had the time to teach me. So, today I got to play with my new lock picking tools. You knew about that, right?"
"No, Hector and I hadn't really discussed the agenda. I honestly didn't think you would make it this far with him considering the language barrier. Babe, you're going to have to pardon me. I've got a call to make. Thanks for thinking of me and bringing me my sweets, it was very nice of you. I'll talk to you later."
He kissed me on the temple before I left the room. When I closed the door I heard Ranger's voice on the phone sounding more than a little miffed. All I heard of the conversation was, "Hector" I guess there was going to be some explaining to do and it wasn't going to be me.
Guess Ranger wasn't really aware of as much as he thought. Maybe I wouldn't be needing him so much in the future. Probably I would, but I wanted to be able to try things for myself.
All things considered, it was a pretty mellow month. The mostly what I got out of it was that 1) pastry was good, 2) Hector and Lester together could be sneaky and 3) Hector was really into the whole touchy-feely thing.
I was crossing my fingers that Bobby would be mellow and that April was going to be smooth. But if March came in like a lion and out like a lamb, did I need to be worried? I mean they slaughter lambs, don't they?
A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. Reviews do tend to spur the muse along.
The bakery does exist and the pastry is that good. It is located in Phoenix (the owner of bakery is unaware he and shop have been fictionalized)
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