“No, carnal, I need you. Come inside a bit.”
Dopey nodded and pulled Lorca into the driveway, put it in park, and slowly ambled out. Smiley went inside first to speak to her mother and kiss her little boy, who was ready for naptime. Dopey followed Ruben inside. He was troubled at Ruben’s silence and the quick, urgent grasp of his wrist. His stomach knotted up.
“I hope this grail chingadera doesn’t bring pleito,” he thought.
Ruben opened the fridge and grabbed two Modelos, tossing one at Dopey, who caught it.
“Still got the movidas, homie,” Ruben said as the bottle landed neatly into Dopey’s outstretched hand with a resounding smack. “Shoulda done beisbol for the Dodgers, ese.”
“Nah, I just know better than to let anything spill on my prima’s clean floors,” Dopey joked.
They sat at the kitchen table in silence drinking their beers, Ruben occasionally drumming his fingers on the table. Dopey just sipped his beer knowing that Ruben would speak when he was ready. He could feel it. Something momentous had happened when Ruben touched the odd wooden bowl that now sat in the center of the table; scratched, worn and yet seemingly to have some ineffable power that throbbed through the room almost as a soundless hum. He hadn’t felt that at Ruben’s tia’s house, but now it was almost a physical presence, not quite a heartbeat but a beat nonetheless of something, another type of energy in the room with them.
Smiley walked in and went to the fridge to grab her own beer, then plopped down next to Ruben and put her head on his shoulder.
“Junior sleeping?” he asked.
“Yeah, he wanted a story, but knocked out before I could open the book,” she said smiling softly.
Ruben chuckled.
“Babe, I figured out the Grail,” he said.
“You did? Well, what the fuck does it do?” Smiley asked.
“It lets you go through time. It talks to me and tells me we can travel to different times, different worlds, different universes, and shit,” he said.
“En serio?”
“Yeah, Babe. Serio.”
“Well, holy shit, Ruben, get off your ass!”
“What do you mean?”
Smiley poked him. “I always wanted to go to Aztec times,” she said.
“Ooh that would be cool as long as we don’t get into pleito with jaguar warriors,” he laughed. “Or be a sacrifice.”
Dopey said, “Still, haven’t you ever wondered if Cortes and those conquistador vatos made up all that stuff?”
Smiley nodded, “Yeah but Miguel Leon de Portillo’s research said they did.”
“I don’t wanna end up in some Aztec’s pozole, ese but we can be trucha,” Dopey said.
Ruben laughed. “Well, if they come after us, I have the grail and we can bounce out.”
“Tomorrow, we’ll take Junior over to my Tia’s and try it,” Smiley said. “It can’t be much worse than ICE trying to kidnap us and send us to lockdown in some crazy country with no laws.”
“Hecho.”
The next morning, Smiley was making coffee and breakfast burritos of chorizo and eggs when Ruben stepped into the kitchen, fresh from his shower. Dopey was sitting at the table.
“Sup,” Ruben said, bumping fists with Dopey, then going to pour himself a mug of coffee.
“Going to head out with you and your ruca to Aztec times, homes,” said Dopey. “Someone has to document that shit.”
“I figured you would, despite the threat of being someone’s pozole.” Ruben sighed.
“I ran into Dopes at my Tia’s when I took Junior. We figured we could use some backup. He called the homies so I’m putting together some comida to take along. I’m not eating some weird shit like pond scum,” Smiley said.
Ruben laughed as he watched her fill an insulated lunch bag with foil-wrapped burritos.
By the time she’d filled the huge bag with food, chanclas, and Aqua-Net, the homies had arrived.
“Aqua-Net, babe?” Ruben pointed his chin at the bag.
“Well, what if there aren’t just crazy Aztec warriors out to kill us. What if there are aliens? Also, what if conquistadores come? I can spray em in the eyes,” she said, grabbing another purple bottle of it and stuffing it into the already packed bag.
He laughed, then grasped the pencil cup.
The homies were standing outside in the driveway. Everyone had shown up. Smiley handed a vato named Boxer the bag filled with food and supplies.
“Okay, everyone hold onto each other. I have no idea what will happen when I use this thing but I know we all have to be connected,” Ruben said.
Everyone linked arms, then Ruben turned the cup in his hand, watched it glow till it looked like a ball of ethereal blue light, then turned it a few more times, muttering in some strange language. The sky darkened. It seemed like a chain of stars fell down from the heavens like twinkle lights sagging tiredly after a good pachanga. There was a sound of whooshing wind, rustling leaves, and a smell like burning wood permeating the driveway.
Smiley’s neighbor blinked. She could have sworn she’d seen those fucking cholos doing some weird santeria ritual in the driveway, but now no one was there. She walked out of her house and, peering all around her, stepped into their driveway. Nothing was there; there was no trace of anyone having been there. Everything was neat and in order. She peered down at the driveway concrete and blinked. Only a stub of a pencil lay on the concrete. It smelled like burnt wood. Shaking her head, she wandered back to her house.
“Pinches cholos,” she thought.