Every morning around 7:30 a.m the neighborhood would be woken by the dirge-like keening of Heliodora the Tamalera aka Doña Heli (pronounced Elly). The drawn out and familiar sentences of “Tamales! Tammmmmmmmmmaaaaaaaaaaaaales! Taaaammmaalllllles! Tamales de puerco, pollo, queso, dulce y requeson! Taammmmmales y champurrado. TAMMMMMMMMMALES!” would resound along with the rickety rumbling of her rusty old market shopping cart. The cart contained large tamale cans covered and an equally big camp-style container full of champurrado, a delicious chocolate drink thickened with corn masa.
Little by little, people would stumble out of their homes in pajamas, dressed for work and once (it was said) completely naked under a towel. From my window, I would watch them as she trundled down the street. I’d hear shouts of their choices, “dos de mole!” “dame tres de pollo porfis” “I’ll take three sweet ones and two pork with red chile“, etc. Mostly, though, I’d watch Doña Heli who was definitely something to watch. Her long braids reminded me of the Spanish-language soap opera star La India Maria. They were tight and interwoven with brightly colored ribbons. Her braids were as much a personality as she was. Her apron was full of pockets, and she dealt change quickly with the rapidity of a seasoned moneychanger. She kept several bulky pockets full of coins and another with a raggedy rubber-banded pile of one-dollar bills. “A dolar, a dolar, a dolar… ” she’d trill as she pushed her tamales with all the zeal of a meth dealer. “Una docena por diez!” she’d shout if someone bought six or seven. A dozen for ten. Sure enough, that person would reluctantly drag out that ten-dollar bill, and it would quickly disappear into Doña Heli’s bundle of bills.
Eventually, she’d make it over to my place and like the rest, I’d walk out of the house and after her, completely seduced by her wacky tamale cart. She’d eye me up and down and without asking, she’d ladle out that steaming champurrado while I pulled out my crinkled dollars. I’d take the styrofoam cup from her and let the cinnamon-scented steam swirl around my nose as she wrapped up my chile and cheese tamale in a paper towel so I could eat it with no fuss. “Gracias, Doña Heli,” I’d say and head off to work.
That was my routine. Tamales and champurrado would sustain me as I began the long commute into Burbank to work. I worked as a prosecutor in a law office so far removed from the hood that I needed the comfort of those tamales to help me remember who I was. It could be easy to forget I lived in the hood in the hustle and bustle and nonsense of a job as part of the big corporate machine. I suppose I could have moved closer to work, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave the homies, Doña Heli and the comfort of living so close to the park where I did the Aztec dance thing. Besides, I made damned good money, but spent very little because my rent was super cheap here in the barrio. I also had a small weekend office here in the hood, helping the neighbors out with their immigration issues. There were occasions when I’d stop Doña Heli early and grab a sack full of tamales for the co-workers who were always grateful to get them. They thought the tamales were an exotic offering and couldn’t believe I ate them every day.
That was of course, until the aliens landed in Lincoln Park. I wasn’t there when the hood got into pleito with the aliens. I was working. I was home in time to see the aftermath though – purple junk everywhere, homies all excited, the abuelas with sore and tired arms…all of it. My abuela was one of the chancla throwers and I spent that evening rubbing BENGAY® into her arms and shoulders, then running her a bath with Epsom salts, all the while listening to her tale of the pinches espacemen. I’d spent weeks representing some of the guys and getting them out of jail and juvie at the behest of my grandmother. Pro bono of course. What I didn’t know was that my mischievous grandmother and her comadre Doña Heli would later sneak out that night and raid the spaceship that was hidden in Ruben’s garage. How could I? I didn’t live in Lincoln Heights, but in the next neighborhood over, Highland Park. While I was ironing my clothes for work the next morning, my abuela and her bestie were up to no good.
It wasn’t until sometime the next autumn that I noticed something was off. Strange people were seen coming into and out of the neighborhood. Doña Heli seemed different – secretive and furtive with her beady little black eyes darting left then right rapidly. Less and less, I saw the regulars coming for tamales and other strange folk surrounding her shopping cart. I got suspicious. One morning after noticing a particularly shady character lurking at the tamale cart, I made a decision. I called in sick to work and followed Doña Heli on her rounds. It wasn’t easy. She’s a trucha old bat with long-honed skills of dodging the cops that ticketed the food vendors, not to mention the migra. I had to hide behind cars and buildings, tiptoe through hedges and once, I slipped behind a dumpster. I wasn’t without skills myself. Lawyer or not, the skills you learn in the barrio, they never leave you. I followed her to my abuela’s house and that’s when my world turned upside down.
“Belen! I’m here.” Doña Heli said, yanking her empty tamale cans out of the cart.
‘Hmm,’ I thought. ‘I didn’t know she came here after her rounds.’
“How many pinches rayguns did you sell today Heli?” My grandmother’s voice rang out from the backyard.
“Callate, Belen!” shrieked Doña Heli. “Do you want the whole barrio to hear you?”
“Pfft.” Said my tiny grandmother as she hobbled over to Doña Heli’s cart. “What can they do? I’ll give those cabrones a chanclaso or a taconazo if they stick their nose into our business.”
Doña Heli laughed and so did I, quietly while I hid behind the hedges. I’d too often been a victim of her outrageous whacks with her flip-flops. Together they moved into the house, settling into the kitchen, so I crawled over just under the window sill near the camellia bush to spy on them.
“I sold six rayguns, seven dozen tamales and all the champurrado. We made $48k today and a few centavos.” Doña Heli pulled out a huge sack and started pulling out hundred-dollar bills into my abuela’s waiting and open hands.
By now my heart was racing. Did she say $48,000.00? They had to be kidding.
Meanwhile, my abuela was shoving those bills as fast as she could into the large green coffee can she normally kept the piloncillo in.
“Did you find other buyers, Belen?” Doña Heli asked.
“Pues, si. My granddaughter gave me that tablet chingadera and I am on an espace forum. Those locos are dying for these pinches rayguns. How many more do we have, Heli?”
Doña Heli shuffled over to the storage closet where my grandmother kept random and rarely used pots, pans and the holiday serveware. That’s when I almost fell over. The whole thing was full of these silvery, glowing guns with brightly colored lights. Holy hell! Where did they get them?
“What the hell are you two viejitas up to?” I yelled from the window, nearly causing my grandmother to have a heart attack.
I stormed into the kitchen, slamming the door as I came in. “What in God’s name are those?” I yelled, pointing to the closet. Before I could say the next thing, I felt the sting of my grandmother’s hand across my lips. I think she bloodied it.
“Don’t blaspheme, cabrona! I don’t care how old you are or how important or que tan fancy your job is. Tu no me mandes! You are not the boss of me, missy.”
She had me there. I quickly apologized for being disrespectful and asked if I could sit. Placated but still indignant, my grandmother huffed and pointed at the chair. “Sit then, and don’t bleed all over my tablecloth.”
I glared at her, grabbed a washcloth for my lip, calmed myself, then sat at the table and asked her what was going on.
“Well, the pinche Social Security isn’t enough and since your Papa died, I am struggling to make ends meet and so is Heli. When the aliens landed and caused all that mess, Heli and I found all these guns in the espaceship. So, we didn’t want the boys to get them. They’d go to jail!” My grandmother glared at me and so did Heli. According to them they were saving all the boys in the hood from juvie or jail.
“Uh huh” I said. “Go on.”
“Well after a while you got me that tablet chingadera and I was looking at things about espace on Google because I was worried after Carlos and the others got back that there would be more aliens.”
“Go on.”
“Pues, Heli was here and we ran into this guy on Viejitos.com that was really into space stuff.”
“Abuela, what is viejitos.com?” I had a bad feeling about this.
“Oh, it’s a dating site for old Mexicans” said Doña Heli smiling.
“Oh. My. God. DATING for viejitos?“
That earned me another slap.
“You think because we’re old we don’t need love too?” My grandmother was furious. “I’m even on Tindr! I have lots of los boyfriends.”
“Well no. I mean I didn’t think. I mean but the viejitos are well um…” I had no words and I was horrified. Tindr? WTF?
“What?” this from Doña Heli. “As mi amiga, Priscilla (here, she crossed herself as did Heli), que descanse en paz, used to say, just because they can’t cut the mustard doesn’t mean they can’t lick the jar.”
“Good God!” It didn’t even bear contemplating.
“I told you not to blaspheme!” This time the smack went to the back of my head.
“Can we get back to the guns? Please, abuela? We can get back to you two on a dating site for old folk later.”
“Humph.” Folding her arms, she glared at me, look at Doña Heli and nodded.
Apparently, this guy had gone on and on about rayguns and how he’d bought a model one for a thousand dollars and that’s when the dollar signs started floating in their brains. They asked this guy what he would pay for a real one and he said anything but all he had was $3,000.00. They invited him over for coffee and showed him one gun. They told him they’d found it at the laundromat. He bought it and they began soliciting other buyers in secret, using the tamale cart as a front.
“We need money so we don’t have to go depend on anyone. We don’t want to be poor and eating cat food.” My grandmother was tearing up – the fake tearing up she did when she wanted her way.
“Abuela, why didn’t you ask me for money? You know I have plenty. By the way, how many have you sold?” I asked.
She looked at Doña Heli. Doña Heli said, “1,206. There are only 2,2294 left between my house, the garage and your abuela’s.”
Oh my…
“Abuela! Did you know that the government tracks all activity online? Not to mention the IRS.”
“I’m not completely stupid. Ruben and Smiley gave me a scrambler chingadera for the internet and I keep it all in cash so the IRS doesn’t see it.”
“Wait, Ruben and Smiley know?” My head was beginning to hurt.
“No. No one does but us and now you. They gave me the scrambler cosa because I told them I had un estalker.” My grandmother was gleeful now.
“A stalker?” I almost choked.
“Pues si. Heli and I have been dating a lot on that site besides selling guns and tamales, you know. We can be estalked by cabrones we don’t date a second time. Like that pervertido remember, Heli? The one that wanted to lick your toes?”
I needed to die now. Quick. My brain was frying.
“Abuela! This is going to stop. No more selling these guns. You are going to get arrested or something. Or worse.” We need to figure something out. Besides, what if these get into the wrong hands. What if the aliens come back? Shouldn’t we have these weapons?”
Heli looked worried. “We didn’t think of that.”
My grandmother shrugged.
“But we can keep the money we have right, mijita?” she smiled her nicest, most manipulative smile.
I grumbled. “Okay, but I’m going to talk to Ruben and Carlos about this. No arguments. They are the strategists with all this and Carlos did bring back that second spaceship. He’ll know what to do.”
They reluctantly agreed but swore me to secrecy about the money before getting into the car to visit the Valle de Guadalupe for the weekend while I dealt with their mess. I didn’t even want to think who they were going wine-tasting with. Crazy old women.
This was going to be bad. I knew it.
#
A few days later, I stood on the porch of the old green and white house in Lincoln Heights, waiting for someone to answer the bell. I was nervous and so I tapped my foot and chewed on the same silly strand of hair that always escaped, not matter how much goddamned hairspray or gel I used. I was still trying to formulate what to say to Ruben, when Smiley answered the door.
“Heyyyy, Liliana, long time!” she smiled and yanked me into a big hug. She smelled like baby powder and enchiladas. From the telltale red splatters on her apron, I figured I’d interrupted her cooking.
Smiley I and I went way back. All the way to grade school, went no one could ever pronounce her name so she told them to just call her Smiley like the family did. It stuck and fit her far better than Hortensia did.
“So what’s up?” she said, stepping back and taking a good, long look at me.
“You look all lawyer chingona and shit, Lil. Maybe you could help my Ruben with his papers?”
“Sure, I don’t know why he doesn’t call me. I can help.”
“You know how he is” she said.
I knew. That goddamned Chicano pride was a doubled-edged sword. Well, if he knew what was best for his little family, he’d damned well better see me so I could help him fix his status. Worrying about deportation wasn’t good for Smiley or their little boy.
“Yeah, I know,” I said.
“I’m making enchis,”she grinned. “Wanna help? I’ll feed you.”
“Okay. Is Ruben around?” I followed her into the kitchen, tying on the apron she handed me.
“He’ll be back in a few. He’s over at Dopey’s. Think Dope is coming for dinner too,” she said. “Why, what’s up?”
“First of all, how is Dopey?” I asked.
“Well, if you mean is he still seeing that ghost Elena in his old green car, then yeah. He sees her and talks to her,” she said.
“You think she’s real?” I asked.
“Oh, Lil, she’s real alright. I’ve seen her. It’s so sad. I feel bad for them both,” Smiley looked at the enchilada she was rolling.
“Well, it is what it is, Lil. Now tell me what’s up with you and why you want the guys.”
“Oh my God, let me tell you about my Grandma and Doña Heli,” I said, dipping a hot out of the frying oil tortilla and dreded it through the red sauce.
Smiley listened wide-eyed while I told her about those crazy old women. “Valgame, Dios! Are you fucking serious? Tindr? “
I nodded ruefully. “Yup, Tindr.”
“And rayguns they lifted from the space ranfla?” she asked.
“Yeah. And now there’s these vatos in black suits stalking them and other nefarious characters lurking and I think they are in danger.”
“Fucking hell.” Smiley rolled an enchilada neatly, placed it in the baking dish and shook her head. “Ruben and Dopey might know what to do.”
“I hope so, because I’m clueless and those viejitas only care about cash and dirty old men.”
Smiley snorted. “Do you remember my Grandma Priscilla?”
“Oh my, God. Ew.” I cringed remembering that crazy old lady and her wildly inappropriate sex stories.
We both chanted in unison, “Un palito, y un vasito de agua, no se le neiga a nadie!” then clinging to each other for support, we laughed till tears ran, the enchiladas forgotten. It was a wacky Mexican saying Smiley’s grandma would always say that essentially meant it was rude to refuse anyone either a glass or water or a penis. Don’t ask me, I don’t make up these dichos.
“What are you crazy rucas up to?” said a deep voice.
“Is that Lil?” said another.
Smiley and I stopped laughing and wiped our eyes.
“Just catching up with Liliana, Babe,” Smiley said to Ruben, owner of the first voice.
“Heya, Lil. Long time, no see,” he said coming over and giving me a big hug.
“Lils!” this came from Dopey who pushed Ruben out of the way, picked me up and swung me around.
“Let me down, goddamnit. I’m a lawyer.” I said laughing.
“Hey guys. It’s good to see you too,” I said once Dopey had put me down. “Ruben, you gotta come see me at my office or at least let’s get started at my apartment.”
“That why you came? Did Smiley call you?” he asked glaring at her.
“Don’t be an ass. No, she didn’t. I’m here about my grandma,” I said, giving him a dirty look.
“Let me get the enchiladas in the oven and start the rice, then Lil will tell you her story. I think we all need some food and cervezas for this one,” Smiley said, snapping Ruben on the butt with her kitchen towel.
He laughed. “Sounds serious.”
“You have no idea,” I said, as I followed Smiley to the kitchen.
Later, after we’d eaten our fill and had ice cold beers in hand, Smiley went to put her boy down for his nap, while I went out onto the wide porch with the guys.
“Sientate,” Ruben said, pointing at the wooden bench his dad had made back when we were kids. “Sit and get comfortable, Lil.”
I sat, slipping off my shoes, then curling my legs under me. The guys sat too, Ruben on the wide wooden railing that circled the wrap-around porch and Dopey on a stool in the corner.
“So, what’s up, Lil,” Ruben said. “You said it was serious.”
I told them everything, watching their eyes take it all in.
“Motherfucker!” Dopey exclaimed. “Are you serious? They found rayguns?”
“Uh huh.”
“Where?” he asked. “Because I was in that fucking ranfla for weeks and never found shit.”
“Yeah,” Ruben said. “The vatos and I stripped the fucker down and we didn’t see anything. Are you sure, Lil?”
“Yes, I’m fucking sure. They found them in a compartment on the floor of it. Those crazy old viejas went right under you guys and loaded up twelve times.”
“What da actual fuck?” This from Dopey.
“Yeah, according to my grandma, you guys were up top messing with dials and shit. They went under the thing, to try and eavesdrop on what you were all saying and found the stash.” I shook my head at their antics.
“Well, damn,” Ruben said. “Ain’t that about some shit?”
“How’d they get them home?” asked Dopey.
“In the tamale cans, then rolled ’em out in the carts.”
Ruben shook his head. “Crazy. I remember seeing them and thinking of getting a tamale too, but was too busy.”
“No tamales in those cans,” I said. “So now I don’t know what to do. They say some guys are following them. Vatos in black suits. Some other mafia-looking guys too,” I told them, shivering a little in the night air.
Smiley came out onto the porch and took a beer out of the cooler before curling up next to me. “He’s asleep.”
Ruben smiled, his face softening. “Good.”
“Well, I want to see these rayguns, Lil.”
“Me too,” said Dopey.
“Me three,” said Smiley.
I laughed. “Does Junior want to go too?”
“Nope,” Smiley said laughing. “Too hard to get that little fool to sleep. My mom will come over and watch him.”
“Let me have another beer first,” I said, catching the one Dopey tossed at me. “I think I’m gonna need it.”
On the way over to my grandma’s, Dopey said, “You know Lil, Elena says Chekov says if you have a rifle hanging in a scene, by the third chapter, it has to go off.”
“So, what are you trying to say, Dope?” I asked, annoyed that he was talking to that ghost again, or at least he said he was talking to a ghost. Who knew? I wasn’t so sure, no matter what Smiley thought. Maybe it was that I had had a kind of thing for Dopey back in the day. I didn’t now, but I worried about him all the same.
“Just saying that since they found these things and they been selling ’em, stands to reason someone might use one.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I said.
He nodded, looking over his shoulder.
“You still living on your own over in Highland Park?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Maybe you should have your grandma come stay with you.”
“You know how she is, Dope,” I said. “She’s not coming to stay with me and certainly not give up her cash cow the rayguns or her Tindr dates easily. We’re gonna have a fight on our hands.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I know.” He shuddered, “de veras? Tindr?”
“Yup. Tindr and the damned Valle de Guadalupe for wine tasting.”
“Fuck.”
“Uh huh.”
We arrived at my grandmother’s little house and I let myself in with my key, yelling, “Abuela, I brought company.”
She walked in, wringing a dish towel in her hands. She looked nervous.
“Are you okay, Abuela?” I asked.
“No, hija,” she said, then started to cry.
I gathered her up and hugged her, patting her back and muttering soothing words, while Smiley and the guys clustered around us. When she calmed down, she greeted everyone and we all went into her small, but comfortable kitchen to find out what had upset her. Smiley got her seated and sat next to her patting her hand and being soothing in the way only Smiley can do. She’s one of those people that can make anyone feel safe and at ease. I think that’s why we’ve been friends so long. I’m not like that. I’m the one people get away from in a hurry because I will tell your ass off in a heartbeat. These days, I do it in court with proper legal diction, but I could still slap someone into the ground if they pissed me off. I was pissed now, wondering who’d made my grandma cry. I held it together though as I made tea for her, and cafe del olla for the guys.
“They took Heli!” she blurted out and started bawling again as I set the cups on the table.
“Who did?” we all asked at the same time.
“The vatos in the black suits,” she cried. “Es mi culpa, it’s all my fault.”
“Abuela, Heli is probably just as much as fault as you, but we need to know what went down,” I asked, putting on my stern court voice.
Dopey cleared his throat. “Doña Belen, you said some vatos in black suits took Heli. Did you see them?”
“Si,” she said, sniffing into her embroidered hankie. “We were on the porch. It was a nice night so we thought we would have a tequila and check out Tindr.”
Smiley grabbed my hand and pinched me so I wouldn’t open my big mouth and get smacked. Her body was shaking though, so I knew she was holding in laughter.
Ruben asked, “Why didn’t you tell me about the guns? Do you still have them?”
My grandma glared at him, “And why should I tell you anything, you little mocosillo? I’ve changed your diapers, you and Carlos over there, so don’t get smart with me, cabron.
Smiley squeezed my hand harder.
“Despensa, señora,” Ruben said. “I meant no disrespect, I am just trying to help you with Heli.”
Mollified, she sniffed again and nodded. “Si, los rayguns are in the storage closet.”
Ruben got up to check the closet and I could hear his gasp as he saw them. Dopey trailed after him and they both whispered to each other urgently before coming back to the table, each with a gun in hand.
Smiley’s eyes widened as she saw the guns they laid on the table. “Hijole!”
“So, Doña Belen, what happened to Heli?” Ruben asked gently.
“We were on the porch and some vatos in black suits just came up, grabbed her, and before I could hit them with the tablet cosa, they threw her in a black van. They tried to grab me, but I threw my chancla at them and ran. I hid near old Santo’s house, you know him, the curandero?”
We all nodded and shuddered. That dude sacrificed live chickens and goats and did it in the nude. Not a pretty sight, at all.
My grandmother went on, “I knew they wouldn’t find me there, so I stayed for a long time, then came back and was going to get a gun and go look for Heli, but that’s when you came.”
“Did you see which way they headed?” Dopey asked, scratching his chin.
“Si!” My grandmother was very excited, “They headed towards Lincoln Park. Ustedes saben, where the aliens were. They are parked near the gym.”
She smiled a nasty little smile at me, “I may have gone looking before I came home. I saw them parked there and came home to get the guns.”
I was going to have a heart attack, I knew it.
Ruben was looking at the gun in front of him with a puzzled look on his face. “There’s no trigger, Dopes,” he said. “Just all these weird lights.”
Dopey was looking at the gun too, turning it over and trying to find the trigger.
My abuela looked smug. “There’s not one. You have to touch the red light, the purple one and the yellow in quick succession so it shoots,” she said.
Grabbing the one in Dopey’s hand, she quickly passed her finger over the lights and a stream of purple, glowing light, radiated out, making a whistling noise that hurt our ears and took out the kitchen door. I mean like boom, it was just gone.
“Holy fuck!” I’m not sure which of us, or if all of us said it, but it was Dopey that got the smack in the head for which I was profoundly grateful. My lip was still swollen from the day before.
My grandma smiled. “You kids owe me a new door,” she said.
That was my abuela, take out a door, blame the kids, get new and more expensive door. She could make trial lawyers I knew cringe in fear.
“How did you figure that out, señora?” Ruben asked, eyeing my grandmother with a speculative look.
“Heli and I did. We’ve been practicing too. It was after that pervertido that kept coming around asking to lick our toes. He kept bothering us, so we figured it out and vaporized him.
I blinked. “You did what?”
My grandma looked and me, “It’s not killing if they just disappear. That’s not a sin. Besides he was a pervert. God understands.”
Oh. My. God.
“Lil,” Dopes said. “Don’t freak out, ruca. Your abuela is probably right. I mean, I got sucked into an alien and just landed on a spaceship, so maybe when she vaporized that dude, he just got displaced.”
Ruben nodded. “Anyway, now is not the time to freak the hell out. We gotta go get Heli. Those vatos in the black suits are probably CIA or something.”
Dopey said, “I already texted the homies. They’re going to meet us at the park.
“Good” Ruben said. “Tell them to go ’round the other side, by the lake, the circle alongside the little hill and lay low. I’m gonna load these rayguns into my car.”
Dopey looked at me. “Chekov’s Raygun, Lil.”
“Shut the fuck up, Dopes.”
“Malcriada!” my grandmother yelled, smacking me in the head. “I should wash that mouth.”
Smiley had run back to her house and was just now pulling into the driveway with Ruben’s mini-van. I looked at it, then at Ruben.
“Don’t say it, Lil,” he said, looking pained. “I traded in the lowrider for the van when Junior came along. Don’t even say a word.”
I knew better than to say anything, but I promised myself that if we survived this night I would never let him live it down. A cholo in mini-van, oh my god.
#
We’d loaded Ruben’s van with the rayguns, my grandmother yelling at us to be careful the whole time. I wanted her to stay home, but was quickly outvoted by everyone. She insisted on going. Ruben and Dopey thought she needed to be there to show the homies how to use the damned things and Smiley was yapping about women’s rights, feminism and shit till I wanted to slap her. At the last minute, before we were about to leave, my grandmother ran back into the house and came back out huffing and dragging a large trunk.
“This too,” she told Ruben. “We have to take this.”
He didn’t question her, just yelled at Dopey and together they lifted the heavy thing into the van.
“What is it, Abuela?” I asked.
“Chanclas and Aqua Net, of course,” she said. “In case the aliens come back.”
Ruben and Dopey looked at each other and shrugged. “Makes sense.”
Smiley grinned, opened the truck, slipped a pair of chanclas and a can of hairspray into pockets and said, “Orale, now we’re talking.”
“What the hell, Smiley?” I asked.
“Lil, the Aqua Net melts the aliens, and the chanclas hurt ‘em bad. Don’t you remember me telling you about it after that pleito in the park?”
“Vaguely.” Honestly, I hadn’t believed it, but now faced with actual rayguns, well okay then.
My grandmother just gloated. Of all the things I remember about that night, that gloating look was one of the things that stood out. I knew that no matter what happened, I would be hearing about how she knew what was important in a crisis. I could already imagine her telling all her friends about how her granddaughter with the que fancy law degree didn’t know what to bring to a rumble or that Aqua Net killed aliens.
We got into the van and drove with the lights off down the side streets to Mission and Valley. We circled round the DMV, then Ruben pulled up near the bathrooms and we all slipped out silently. Dopey texted some of the guys and they showed up at the van. Assembly line style, Ruben began handing out rayguns. My grandmother was whispering to the guys to take her trunk to the hillside, and knowing how mean she could get, they didn’t question her, just ran hauling that damned heavy chingadera, till they disappeared into the darkness.
“Braid your hair, Lil,” Smiley said to me, already twisting hers into braids with experienced, fast finger work. “Whatever happens you don’t want some fucker to grab you by that desmadre you call hair.”
I fingered my messy curls and nodded resolutely. “Yep, I remember.”
My long curly locks had once been my downfall in a schoolyard fight. I was winning, then that stupid girl, Evie, had grabbed me by the hair and taken me down. It was Smiley who’d jumped on top and pulled her off, but not before I got a nice shiner. I’d never lived it down.
“You have something for me to tie it with?” I asked her as I braided my hair and swirled the braids around my head ala Frida. She handed me a rubber band and some hairpins.
She shook her head at me. “Always gotta be prepared, Lil. Never know what’s going to catch you. You’re losing your street sense.”
I didn’t say anything because I knew she was right. I tied up my hair, took the sweatshirt she handed me and pulled it on over my silk shirt. She didn’t say it but I could hear her thinking, “that thing is gonna get ripped right off.”
She looked at me approvingly when I was done. “Now you look hood.”
I laughed.
“Do you still throw knives, Lil?” she asked.
“That, I haven’t lost. I win bar bets with knife throwing at dartboards.”
She laughed and handed me a few knives that she pulled out of a diaper bag with a picture of Snoopy on it. “Good. Take these.”
Together, with my grandmother between us, we quietly followed after the guys. When we got to the hillside behind the gym, my grandmother crept over to Ruben and Dopey who were now whispering to the homies. From where Smiley and I crouched low, I could see her showing the vatos and rucas how to use the guns, with Ruben and Dopey whispering for them to pay attention. She then filled her own apron pockets with at least five guns that I could see and looked out over to the parking lot.
“What do we do?” she asked Ruben.
They whispered to each other for a while with Ruben shaking his head and finally, throwing up his hands. He glared at her and then crept over to me.
“She’s fucking crazy, your abuela,” he said.
“I know that. What’s going on?”
“She wants to go by herself down there and find out what those vatos want,” he said, running frustrated fingers through his hair. “I told her no, but she insists.”
“Oh hell, no!” I said, looking towards where my grandmother had been standing.
“Shit!” Dopey said. “Ruben, that loca is down in the parking lot. We gotta head down there.”
“Damnit!” This from Ruben and I simultaneously.
I started to run down the hillside, but Smiley stopped me.
“Don’t go getting yourself killed, Lil,” she said. “We’ll go together, quietly.”
Ruben nodded.
Together, the four of us crept down the hill. We could see my grandmother standing in the parking lot and the black van doors opened. Two vatos dressed all in black, stepped out, and another dragged Doña Heli out.
As we got closer, we could hear them speaking.
“Tell us where you’ve hidden the rayguns and nothing will happen to your friend, one of the vatos said reasonably. “We just want the guns and to know where you got them.”
“From tu pinche madre,”said my grandmother. “You let Heli go, cabron.”
“Ma’am you are being unreasonable. We’re government agents and you have to cooperate.” He took a step towards my grandmother, who stood there small, unafraid and defiant.
Heli was struggling and calling the guy holding her every name in the book. She cursed his mother, his grandmother and his future children. Dopey, who was beside me, winced.
“Don’t tell them anything, Belen,” shouted Heli. “Que se van al diablo.”
“Listen Ma’am,” said the other guy.
“Como que listen?” my grandmother yelled. “I pay my taxes and I don’t have to listen to shit you say. You do what I say cabron, you are my employee because of my taxes.”
The guy holding Heli said, “Fuck this Bruce, just call ICE. Entiendes, lady? LA MIGRA.”
My grandmother drew herself up straighter and seemed taller than her five-foot, two-inch self. “I’m an American citizen, you shithead,” she yelled at him. “Third generation, and before that my ancestors were doing algebra while yours were scratching their heads trying to figure out how to wipe their asses.”
Dopey snickered and I pinched him.
My grandmother went on, “You don’t have anything better to do than stalk two old women who are just trying to make a living? You should be ashamed of yourselves. Desgraciados.”
The guy nearest her took another step forward, and my grandmother stepped back. He grinned and looked over his shoulder at the guy holding Heli and shouted, “It’s fine, Tom, she’s just scared.”
While he was looking over his shoulder, my grandmother had whipped two rayguns out of her apron and shot them both as if she were Doc Holiday and this was the OK Corral. Purple light flashed, that damned whistling noise happened, both guys disappeared, Heli fell to the floor because the guy holding her had just gone poof, and the one remaining guy was standing with his mouth open like a fish.
“Whaaa,” he started to say but my grandmother just coldly shot him and he was gone.
“Hmmpf!” she said, walking over to Heli. “Are you okay amiga?”
Heli grinned. “That was fun! Do you think they were FBI?”
“CIA, probably,” my grandmother said, kissing her ray gun and handing the other to Heli.
“You kids can come out now,” she yelled.
We all ran down the hillside feeling foolish, useless and not just a little awed by my crazy grandmother and her friend.
“No more selling rayguns on the internet, Abuela.” I said.
She looked at Heli, who shrugged.
“Okay, mijita, we have enough money saved now.”
Ruben took the weapons. “I’m gonna destroy this shit,” he said, as he took them from the reluctant homies. He looked pointedly at my grandmother’s apron pockets. She reluctantly handed them over, but not before I saw her slip one into her bra. I pretended not to notice. Hey, listen, there were still the ones they sold out there and it was probably best to have some protection.
“Best not to have stuff like this and the CIA snooping around,” he said. “We have enough trouble here.”
Dopey nodded, then went to my grandmother’s trunk and took out a bottle of Aqua Net. He sprayed it on one of the guns and it dissolved. “Cool,” he said. “It works, just like on the alien cabrones.”
He and Ruben spent the next hour spraying rayguns with hairspray while Smiley and I took Heli and my grandmother home.
“Want some tamales, Liliana,” Doña Heli asked, when we got to my grandmother’s.
“As long as it doesn’t come with a ray gun or pervert on the side,” I said wearily.
Smiley laughed and we all sat down to tamales and champurrado. Doña Heli’s tamales were the best in the world, bar none. The next morning, as I wearily ironed my shirt for the office, wondering how I was going to make it through the day on so little sleep, I could hear the rattle of the shopping cart and Doña Heli’s strident voice singing out, “Tamales! Tammmmmmmmmmaaaaaaaaaaaaales! Taaaammmaalllllles! Tamales de puerco, pollo, queso, dulce y requeson! Taammmmmales y champurrado. TAMMMMMMMMMALES!“