A Girl Named Maria

"Anyway," she whispered after a moment, "I hear the lot is going on the market and I thought you might want to slip in an offer before it goes public..."

He nodded. "Good thinking, Renata. Any idea what they're asking?" Yeah, like duh. He knew a hard sell when he smelled one, and he already had the figure, anyway.

"Twenty," she said, meaning twenty million dollars for a quarter acre lot on the face of the mountain. But, he knew, it would take the property off the market, forgo a bidding war he might lose, and preserve the integrity of his own property's value.

It was a quick calculus, and he'd made it days before.

"Make the call," he said, and the White Queen fired up her iPhone and dialed away.

"Bitsy? It's Ren. Will twenty work?"

Pause...

"Okay, I'll swing by and pick them up...What? Oh, we're down at Pepe's? Oh? FABulous! We'll get started on a pitcher of margaritas! Oh? Yes, we'll be ready for you!"

He looked her way, a quick, sidelong glance before he rolled his eyes away from her. Then a young couple came in the front door, and the girl squealed when she saw him. She pointed at the man and ran over to his table.

"Oh fucking God no!" he moaned. "Not now."

"We heard you were here! Could I have your autograph!?" the girl cooed as she whipped out a black permanent marker from a coat pocket.

His face upturned, his eyes slightly crossed, steam seemed to seep from his ears.

"Sure, darlin'," he said as nicely as he could. "Where?"

The girl, a cute blond thing with a New York accent, flipped around and pulled her pants down and so presented her ass. Turning her face to his, she said: "Right here!" while pointing to her left cheek. "How about, 'To Madison, with all my love!'"

"Sure you don't want to do this at a tattoo parlor?" the man said as he took the marker and flipped off the top, before he grabbed the girl's ass and started writing. When he was finished she squealed, then he handed her the marker.

"Ooh, could I kiss you?" she said.

"No tongue, darlin'. I've got the clap."

The girl squealed again, leaned over and kissed him full on the lips, pushing her tongue deep inside his mouth. She kept at it for about a minute.

"Ooh, I heard you were the best, but you're even cuter in person than I thought you'd be!"

"So are you, kid. Now, if that's your boyfriend over there, you might want to go check him out. He's either going to have a stroke or he's going to shoots us."

The girl squealed again, turned and saw her boyfriend. He was red-faced, livid, and was squirming around like a squirrel had just burrowed up his dick. So of course, she turned back to the man, squealing.

"I've always wanted to ask...what's your favorite movie?"

"Debbie Does Dallas," he deadpanned.

"Ooh, were you in that one? I don't think I've ever seen it!"

"Really? I play Debbie, but, um, if that's your boyfriend, I think you better go do something to him. And use that tongue."

She turned, looked at the fuming kid by the door. "Oops, right, gotta go!" She leaned over and kissed him again. Maybe two minutes this time and, he thought, she tasted like bubble gum.

A wide-eyed Renata turned to him as the girl scampered away. "Does that happen often?" she asked, clearly astonished.

"More than you might imagine."

"Really? That was fascinating."

"Fascinating. What an interesting choice of words, Renata."

"Well, really, I'd have sworn with just a little encouragement she'd have pulled out your dick and sucked you off, right here at the table."

"Yeah, ain't life grand?" He looked across the room at the girl, now sitting with her boyfriend at a table by the door, and he appeared to be simmering along just south of a cataclysmic meltdown.

"Well, the days not over yet," he said as he watched the guy stand up and storm out of the restaurant in a huff. The girl got up too, looked over and waved at him, then took off after her beau.

"Fucking amazing," said Renata.

"It wouldn't have worked out, anyway," he replied with a mock sigh.

"Why? Too young for you, Jack?"

"Nope. Didn't take a Viagra this morning."

"You sick prick!" she said, laughing wickedly.

He turned, looked at her while he blinked rapidly, his trademark grin melting away all her pretenses and false airs. "Ya know, come to think of it, you'd look real good with my cock in your mouth."

"Oh Jack, stop it!"

"Maybe a load of cum dripping off your tongue. Assuming I can still get it up."

"Jack, really, is sex ALL you think about?"

He smiled, laughed a little. "Story of my life, sweetheart."

The waitress returned to his table with a bowl and a fork. She placed the bowl on the table; it was loaded with avocado, some salt and pepper, tomato, onion, garlic and cilantro. She squeezed some lime on the avocado and began mashing all the ingredients together, then asked if he wanted jalapeño peppers added to the mix, while pointedly not asking Renata what her preferences were.

"The hotter the better, darlin'", he said, and he smiled when she diced up two roasted peppers and mashed them into the bowl. Satisfied, she put the guacamole and fresh flour tortillas on the table and turned to leave, casting an evil eye at Renata before she left.

"My God, Jack. I think that girl's jealous!"

"What? Who?"

"Our waitress, that's who!" she said. "Did you see the way she looked at me just then?"

"You gotta be kiddin' me," he said, looking first at Renata, then at the waitress as she walked back into the kitchen. "I don't even know here name. Seems kinda cute, though."

"Are you serious? That pig?"

"Oh, look," he said while he tried to not kill Renata, "here comes the Red Queen!" He pointed at the door as Bitsy, the Segal's realtor, entered. Renata waved and Bitsy made her way over to the table.

Bitsy then looked at the guacamole and frowned. "Jalapeños?" she asked.

"Two," the man said, holding up two fingers.

"Not with my GERD. I'll need an IV of Nexium."

The man raised his hand and the waitress came back to the table.

"We're going to need one more guacamole," he said, "this one without the napalm."

The girl smiled, nodded her head, and started to turn away – but then he spoke.

"Ya know, I've been coming here for something like twenty years, maybe more, and I'd bet you've been working here at least five. How come I don't know your name?"

"Probably because you've never asked, Tio."

"Well? Como se llama, darlin'?"

"Maria. Or Maria Louisa, to be more formal, Tio."

"Where are you from, Maria Louisa?"

"Near Cuernavaca, Tio, which is near Mexico City."

"I know where it is, Maria. I used to love it there, shared a house there sometime back in the 70s, or once upon a time, I guess you'd say."

She smiled and turned to Bitsy. "Could I bring you something to drink, Miss Salzman?"

"What? No pitcher?"

"We got kinda side-tracked here, Bit," Renata said. "Remind me to tell you about it. Later."

"Oh, well then, a Cadillac, rocks, no salt," Bitsy said dismissively with a flip of her wrist.

Jack took in the gesture and his face went red.

An offended Maria left, Bitsy opened her briefcase and pulled out a few papers and her notary stamp. "Got your checkbook ready, Jack?"

"Never leave home without it, sweetheart," he replied.

"Okay, sign here, here, and here," she said, pointing to three separate pieces of paper. He signed, Renata witnessed and Bitsy placed her notary seal on each paper, then the man wrote out the check. She placed them all in her case just as Maria returned with a margarita and another bowl of avocados.

"You know," he said, "I came here for a quiet lunch and here I am with you two dames. Fate. Ya gotta love it." He pulled out the book he'd picked up from his bedside table and placed it on the table. "And I was just going to sit here in my corner and read all day. Now, ain't life grand?"

Maria started making the second bowl of guacamole.

"Are you reading again, Jack?" Renata seemed amused as she looked at the book. "That's not your style."

"What makes you say that? I love to read. Especially the classics, like Mad Magazine."

"I'd have taken you for more of a Penthouse type, Jack," Bitsy sneered.

"Used to, swetheart, but it takes me too long to jack off these days, and, well, my hemorrhoids aren't what they used to be."

Bitsy rolled her eyes. Renata picked up the book and looked it over.

"More Die of Heartbreak? Saul Bellow?" Renata said as she looked over the back cover. "What's it about?"

"Ren, really, I thought you were a Radcliffe type."

She shrugged, looked him in the eye. "Vasser, Jack."

"Well, I haven't quite got a handle on this one, yet," he said, "I'm only a few chapters in, but it looks like a story about older men being used for their money, over and over again, by younger girls. All the men are looking for is love. You know. Kinda like they're being taken advantage of," he said as he looked sharply at Bitsy. "Over and over again."

"Oh, so we're taking advantage of you, Jack?"

"Did I say that? Heavens no, Bitsy! You're doing me a favor, aren't you?"

They both looked at him.

"Anyway, Bitsy," he continued, "I told Ren I thought she'd look great with my cock in her mouth. Wanna go back to my place and make it a threesome?"

Bitsy paused, maybe even considered it for a moment before she saw the irony in his eyes. "Well, I think I'll head back to the office and finish this up," she said, taking a long pull from her margarita.

"Me too," Renata said, taking her cue from Bitsy and suddenly seeming quite offended.

"Glad I could be of some use to you ladies today," he said. "Renata, who tipped you off I was here today?"

"Binoculars, Jack. Never leave home without 'em."

"Really. Fascinating. You were in the CIA once, I take it?"

"Good bye, Jack. Seeya later?"

"Sure thing, kid. Enjoy my money."

And as quickly that, the man was alone, just like he'd planned it that way. Well, hadn't he learned about the Segal's divorce three days ago, from a member of the planning commission? Hadn't he let his attorney in on it, and let him plant the bug in some realtor's ear? How else had all that paperwork been ready in less than ten minutes?

"Maria, I think I'll have some iced tea, maybe you could put some peppers in that other bowl of guac?"

"Certainly. Could I bring you anything else?"

He looked at her and once again noticed her eyes, the sense of despair he found in there.

"Maria? Are you alright?"

She looked away, then over her shoulder – back towards the kitchen. "I'm not supposed to say anything, but I think Pepe is going to close the restaurant soon..."

"What? Why?"

"The rent, I think it has doubled. At least he says so. And there are no apartments around here I can afford anymore, anyway, so I am thinking about leaving."

He pursed his lips. "Is Pepe around?"

"Si...yes."

"Ask him to come here, will you?"

"Please, do not..."

"Maria, I'm not an idiot. Now please, fetch him for me, would you?"

Pepe Gonzales was an old man, almost as old as the man was, but Pepe was short, fat and certainly not famous. When Pepe saw the man he smiled and came to the table.

"Señor Jack! Good to see you, my friend! How are you!"

"Good, my old friend. Now tell me, I've heard a rumor floating around town that rents are exploding around here, and that many businesses are in trouble. Some are closing. Anyway, I thought of your restaurant and was worried about you. Now, tell me the truth. What's happening?"

Pepe looked around, dread in his eyes. "Si, it's true. My rent is going from ninety thousand a year to four hundred. There's no way any of us are going to make it at those prices."

"So, you're shutting down?"

"Si."

"When?"

"The new rent? It goes into effect the end of next month, after my lease is up. We will close before then."

The man reached in his coat again and pulled out his checkbook.

"Pepe, I've been thinking about getting into the restaurant business. How would you like a new partner?"

Pepe sat down. "A partner? Si, yes, that would be good. But what would you want? What percentage?"

"Lunch, maybe, from time to time? I don't know. I'd feel just awful if you left town. Besides, you're so much a part of life here, things would never be the same."

"Señor Jack, I don't know. This sounds a little bit crazy."

The man opened his checkbook and wrote out a check for a million dollars, then handed it to Pepe. "Will this do? It'll pay the rent and maybe give you some money to redecorate the place."

Pepe's eyes went round, his hands began to tremble. Maria had been watching, and her eyes went wide.

"Now, Maria," the man said as he turned to face her. "You need a place to live. The whole bottom floor of my place empty. Two bedrooms, a couple of bathrooms and kitchen. It's going to waste. You move in, take care of the housecleaning for me, and we call it even. What do you say?"

"Tio, it's not so simple. Not with me. I have a little girl, and..."

"Are you married?"

"No, no Tio."

"Where's the girl's father?"

She looked away, clearly hurt, and embarrassed.

"Sorry," he continued. "That's none of my business..."

But Maria had disappeared, run off to the kitchen.

"It's a bad story," Pepe said as he looked after her. "On the journey from Mexico she was I think raped, several times, by the coyotes. Her daughter does not know this, of course. I think very few people know this, Señor. She has had a hard life. You understand...hard?"

The man glowered at the table, hated his received insensitivity. Unlike Renata and Bitsy, Maria had never done an evil thing to him, not ever. Maria was as undeserving of anyone's arrogance or insensitivity as anyone he could imagine, and he was agonizing over his choice of words when he saw her coming back to his table with a glass of iced tea in hand. He smiled, smiled at the goodness he found in this girl's soul.

"I'm sorry, Tio. It's just that..."

"There's no reason to apologize, Maria, and anyway, if anyone deserves an apology it's you. I was out of bounds, and I'm sorry. Okay?"

"Si."

"But, like I said, I have two bedrooms going to waste. They're yours if you want them. Maybe when you get off work this evening you could come over and look at them?"

She nodded her head, though she looked torn between tears and a smile. "Si, si, Señor Tio. But there is no question. If your offer stands, well, I would be pleased to be your housekeeper."

Pepe looked at the man, then at Maria as she walked back to the kitchen once again. "She's a nice girl, Señor Jack, old fashioned, not like the women in this town. If you know what I mean?"

The man looked at Pepe, his meaning clear. "No dishonorable intentions, Pepe. I'd just hate to see her go, and my house is empty. She would be a big help, and it seems like a good solution to me...for us both."

Pepe nodded his head. "Maybe we change the name? Of this place? To Jack and Pepe's? That be okay with you?"

"If you want, Pepe, sure," but the man was looking into the kitchen, looking after Maria.

"Okay, Jack. Okay." He got up from the table, and held out his right hand. "Thanks, Jack. You just helped a lot of people."

The man looked up at Pepe, then took his hand. "Isn't that what money is for, Pepe? To help make dreams come true?"

"Maybe. Yes. But you have a good heart, Jack."

"Pues, porque asi es, Pepe." He smiled that winning smile of his. "Besides, I've always wanted to be in the restaurant business."

"Sure, Jack, sure."

The man looked at the bowls of guacamole on the table, and the ice tea, then the book. "Sure thing, Jack," he said to himself as he watched Pepe walk away, then Maria taking orders at other tables. He picked up the book and turned to the dog-eared page he'd stopped at last night, and began reading.

Every few pages, he turned and looked at Maria, and every now and then she looked his way and smiled.

+++++

She got off at eight; he picked her up outside the restaurant and they drove off down the valley to where she said her apartment was, but he'd never seen this part of town before. Snow swirled over the highway but the Rover's amber fog lights lit the way well enough. She told him to turn off 82 by a bus stop well past the airport and he went down the steep ice covered road until she told him to turn again, and there it was. The apartment building, such as it was, looked to be a very modest affair from the outside, but he simply wasn't prepared for what he found inside.

Maria had a room in the building. One room, and it was a shit-hole, he saw. A shit-hole, for herself and her daughter that cost a grand a month. There was a toilet down the hall, shared by about fifty people, and of course they were all from Mexico or El Salvador so dared not complain. And hey, for a grand a month all fifty people got to share a communal kitchen. Assuming the rats he saw let the humans into their kitchen.

Her room was, perhaps, ten feet square, painted a dingy white, and there was a single, gloriously bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling by an exposed cord. In the room were, he saw, two mattresses on the floor, a small table and two chairs, and two suitcases in a corner. No closet, no refrigerator, no microwave, no television. Just two mattresses and a table. A thousand dollars a month, for this? He felt sick to his stomach, and wanted to find out who the slumlord was that running this dump.

A young girl, perhaps ten, maybe twelve, sat on one of the mattresses, laughing and taking care of another toddler.

"That's Louise, my daughter," Maria said as they entered. "She babysits when she gets in from school, for our neighbors."

The girl looked up and immediately recognized the man from one of the few movies she had seen, and her eyes went wide. She stood up from the mattress and came over to the man and took his offered hand. She seemed puzzled, and looked to her mother for answers.

Maria, Jack noted, simply shrugged her shoulders.

"Uh, look, I'm Jack. Pleased to meet ya," he said as he held the girl's hand. "Uh, you and your mom are going to move in to my house. I've offered her a job, and we're moving you out of here tonight. My car's downstairs, so let's get all your things together and loaded up."

"Most of our belongings are in these two bags," Maria said. "A few things to get in the kitchen, that's all."

"Like what?" he said.

"A hot plate, some tortillas. A few glasses."

"The kitchen at the house is fully stocked. You won't need those things, and anything you do need we can pick up later, in town." He looked around the room, down the hall towards the bath and the kitchen, and suddenly he wanted to get as far away from this living, breathing Hell as he possibly could. "If it's just those two bags, I'll carry 'em down. That kid? I take it he's not yours?"

"No, no, Louise just looks after him when she can, to give his parents a few moments alone."

"Okay, well, you two take care of the boy, then come on down."

"Si, it will only be a minute."

Their bags were light, very light, and he wondered just how little they owned, just how barren their existence was, and suddenly he felt very old and lonely. He thought of how much money he'd made in just the past five years...what, something like a hundred and twenty million – after taxes? What had Maria made the last five years? What had she done to earn living in a place like this hovel, this shit hole straight from the bowels of Hell?

He opened the hatch to the rear of his Range Rover and placed their bags inside, then got behind the wheel and started the engine, let the heater warm the interior. He flipped on seat heaters, then front and rear defrosters, while he checked his phone for messages.

Another voicemail from his agent. The writer and director who had sent along the script he'd glanced at this morning had called; they really wanted him for the lead, and were offering seventy five million. "You can't turn this one down, Jacko. You'll screw me out of seven point five, buddy! Please?"