Tequila Loves Me
Mexico City, November 1st, 2003
Dia de los Muertos, 5:30
Don't drink the water. Just the tequila. Possibly the Cruzan Rum.
"I'm just walking my beat, friend…Mexico's my beat, and I'm walking it. I throw shapes, and they catch em'. Set em' up and watch them fall…"
"That's wonderful dickwad, but where the hell am I supposed to send your guy?"
"Have him meet me at the bullfight at 5 p.m."
"Fine."
The dark images, the sounds ended with the snap of a cell phone, when Sands' mind finally returned to the reality now surrounding him. Smoke stuffing his nose, the sting of close fire, screams, chants, and the whisper of a new friend, con man, a salesman at that. "Senor? Senor!"
"What now?"
"Tenemos que ir, la ciudad en el fuego!"
"We're not going anywhere, kid. Kick me that phone… teléfono."
"Claro." The boy, no more aged than ten lifted the bullet proof phone from the dusty pavement and knelt to place it between the grasp of Sands' good hand, on his wound free arm. He had been ungratefully thankful to have the attachment of the kid in his hour of need, whether he would ever admit to it, or resolve in the matter of appreciation towards him or not. Having someone there to make sure no more seriously fucked Barillo sieves attempted to take what was left of his body, was one good thing. At least not until a certain agent decided to finally answer a phone, their phone, her phone. Until that time came though, he was prepared to relax as calmly as possible against the wall, a color which was unknown to him, and a texture which was only stucco against his back. He kicked his boots out wildly in front of him, the bullet severing his right thigh probably leaving a handsome enough trail that again, he couldn't see worth a damn. The heat of the sun though, told him it was nearing the late day now and that soon the festivities would be forgotten, the revolution over.
Sands had somehow already begun to slowly manipulate his senses, just enough really to know that the kid was sitting next to him, probably in similar fashion, and scratching some body part. Ah Christ…I can't do this much longer. The stickiness against each of his cheeks was and could only be blood, and the more he moved, the more it drained from the gaping holes hidden behind his aviators. There's nothing there, fucking whore. Took the single most fucking important…
Cold hard bitch!
Just a kiss on the lips,
And I was on my knees…
I'm waiting…give me…
"Yeah?" He answered the phone swiftly, praying to god it was the call he needed and not something furthering him into the claws of hell for this round. But he heard her voice and relaxed back against the wall, curling his legs closer to him and seething air between his teeth. "For fuck sake, where have you been?!"
"Don't start with me; I've been trying to hold clear behind the capital for three hours! These little scum fucks wouldn't quit firing!"
"You hit?"
"Oh come on Shel, it's me you're talking to. How are you holding up?"
"Aside from the fact that it's the middle of the goddamn day and I can't see a thing…oh I'm lovin' it all Shanie!"
"I found a ditch with a full tank outside Rosalita's...you're still in front of the bank?"
"Damned if I know, I'm guessing at this point."
"Just fucking stay put, I'm on my way!"
Dropping the phone to the ground again, he leaned his head back to the wall; let his mind wander half unexpectedly over the last part of the day. He had known something was going sideways hours before it did, that phone call with Shane, the last one before…everything.
"Listen, I cannot do everything by myself. I need someone to go in there with me!"
"You have an inside man!"
"No! I lost my inside man, probably dead. And Cucuy greedy turd that he is ratted me out and has disappeared!"
"Jesus, Shel!"
"Plus, I'm pretty sure the cartel is shadowing me. Now listen, I have got a swell group of guys intercepting Marquez' army, but they've got no guns!"
"Shit!"
"Now listen, I want you to understand me! This is no time to screw the pooch because this is supposed to be the big dance number!"
"Fuck you, bro!"
"All right? Hello? Hello you there?"
"Okay…okay…I'm going to freak right out…"
The slide of his short fingers across the strings made a harmonic call along the deck of the station. They sat side by side, Shane's feet meeting his knees on the cement block, a whizzing train car going by with the melody he was already creating for himself. They were the only two waiting in the purple darkness of late day. "What do you think, Shy?"
She rolled her eyes impatiently and nuzzled her face into her brother's shoulder, "You stink actually…"
"Well what do you know, you're only a kid! One day man…" he began, stroking the sides of his new possession, the gleam of its blackened tint against the final heat of summer, "One day I'll sound just like Jimi…just like Ronnie…"
A damaged skid of tires to the curb beside them awoke Sands and startled the young boy, with only one of them aware of the vehicle before them, although without sight the other still recognized the haunting sound of his little sister's inability to drive. And then there were two boots hitting the street, jogging, running over to his side, her small hands placed accordingly on his cheeks, and finally her voice. "Oh my god, I can't believe what that bitch did to you!" She stroked the blood stains at his cheekbones, wincing at the barely visible holes through the tint of his glasses, and also noting the bullet sunken into his right arm which he held protectively, and his left thigh, deep and proving so with a generous amount of blood already lapping onto the sidewalk. "Come on," she finally began to conclude, tucking her arm under his and helping him stand at least wobbly enough to be above her height still, and began to slowly move him towards the old car. "We can't stay in town Shane."
"Don't you think I already know that? I'm gonna head for the coast…"
His tongue clenched at the roof of his mouth, emitting slights groans and bouts of pain as he hobbled across the cement and she lowered him into the passenger's seat. "Good girl." Turning away from the seat a ways she finally noticed the shadowing kid, and with a meek smile whispered something under her breath to Sands that he could hardly discern, "Huh?"
"The mini protégé you've hustled…what's his deal?"
"Oh shit, I almost forgot. There's no way he can come with us now."
"Ya think? Send him home." She slammed the door, and walked around to the driver's side while Sands called the boy over to the open window. The child followed, taking hold of the man's lowered hand, tugging at his glove a ways. "Listen amigo, can't take ya any further with us, it's too dangerous. But I need you to stay here and kick some ass for me!"
"Si Senor!"
"Adios kid…"
And so it was that Shane and Sheldon Sands escaped another case, one more in a stature of health than the other, but both so similarly acute, so mutually keen in the matter that they were prepared for its demise, the beginning of the end for one career. They would drive to the coast, get a room, call Jack back in Washington and set the score finally, be done with it. But first Sands had one simple request of his sister. "I really need a fucking drink. Can you stop for some tequila?"
"Not good for the bleeding ya know…"
"Eh screw it, I've bled before. Besides, tequila wouldn't do me any harm; she and I have a very precious relationship." He leaned into the worn and heated leather seat, tugging off his gloves, his belt, guns, boots, everything he could manage to get away from his skin. He didn't have a clue what was in front of him, he didn't know what was around him, he couldn't tell if Shane had been holding back any of her estranged tears yet, he couldn't even say what was going to happen to him. But there was one thing he was sure about, "What kind of shit are you listening to. Christ Shy, find some real music for me."
"Why don't you jus- " She stopped herself abruptly, glancing over to see the near scowl, but angered pout on her brother's face. His sunglasses kept his condition intact and under wraps for now, "Sorry. Let me find something." With Johnny Cash spilling out through the wind, Sands able to relax enough to fall into a deep sleep, and Shane driving as fast as she could out of town, there was still some sort of hope for them. Somewhere in the last glimpse of the Mexican sunset over the hills.
