Read Dustland Requiem (A Bard's Folktale) Page 19


  Chapter 16. (The Worst Day Since) Yesterday

  “The more I learn, the less I know.”

  – Lorena’s Prayer Book

  Outer Region of Los Tios, Mexico

  Lorena lay in her bed for a good portion of the day, Perrito always at her side. Her stomach rumbled, though she couldn’t tell if she was any kind of hungry. Shuffling and other noises kept echoing outside her room—she’d figured they were Kody. He was the only one left. Either way, it wasn’t worth getting up to check.

  “Lorena, do you mind if I come in?” Kody said outside the door.

  She caught him peeking his head in, though she paid him no mind. He gradually brought the rest of his body into her room. Like her, he looked like one giant pincushion. Yesterday hadn’t been particularly kind to either one of them, and the developing scars and bruises ensured they wouldn’t forget any time soon. Kody sat at the foot of Lorena’s bed, staring at the wall.

  “I didn’t know him that well, but Siggy was a good man.”

  Lorena barely lifted her head as she replied. “Have you heard from Adelais?”

  “Not since he took the truck. He probably needs some time. How’re you holding up?”

  “My…brother just died. And I—my brother just died.”

  Kody nodded. The two remained in silence, neither fully aware of the other. Perrito brought his head onto the bed, staring at Lorena with puppy dog eyes. She patted him and invited him onto the bed. The dog took a spot next to Kody, who began petting him as well. After a few minutes of comforting and being comforted by the dog, Kody took to his feet.

  “I don’t know about you, but sitting around just messes with my head. I’m gonna try to clean up the rest of the bar. As much as it can be cleaned, anyway. Some townsfolk already helped… uh…deal with the kitchen. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

  Lorena grabbed Kody’s wrist as he moved to leave. He turned back to her, but no words left her mouth. Her gaze lingered on him. Kody nodded. She released his wrist, and he continued toward the door. Kody paused for a moment, observing her crutches lying idly against the doorframe, and brought them to her bedside before heading out into the bar.

  Lorena took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She reached for her crutches, and fumbled around with them, trying to stand up. She started slowly, hobbling back and forth from her bed and catching herself on Perrito a few times. Once she got a feel for walking with them again, she dressed and redressed herself. She tried a number of different shirt and pants combinations, uninterested in any of her dresses. Nothing felt right. She ended up wearing what she was wearing.

  She made her way into the bar, nodding to Kody as she and Perrito made their way outside. Reluctant at first, she looked around, checking every possible avenue of approach. She saw no sign nor heard any indication of banditos, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. The town, other than the bar itself, had been left untouched.

  She and Perrito made their way to the little chantry. A mare stood tied up outside the entrance. She looked around, trying to find someone who could’ve ridden it. Perrito, being but the clumsy dog he was, carelessly wandered into the church, leaving her no choice but to follow.

  “Perrito, get back he—” she whispered after him.

  Sitting in the same spot near the altar as when she had first met him was the stranger, Alejandro’s brother. Wide-eyed, she froze dead in her tracks, fighting the urge to run. A nauseating contingent of guilt developed within her at the thought of whether to leave Perrito to his own fate, as he so willingly wandered into an assured death trap.

  “Pay me no mind. Like I said before, I come only to pay my respects,” the stranger said.

  “Perrito, come over here now!” Lorena commanded in her quietest voice.

  “You come to the church and do not pray?”

  The stranger turned his head to meet her. He moved aside, making a space for her where she had been the last time they met.

  “I’m a bandito. I make no secret of it. But not all of us want needless bloodshed. I’m alone, and have no interest in harming you. If you wish to pray, I’d welcome your company. If you’d just as soon leave, that’s fine too.”

  Lorena remained near the door, refusing to move. Perrito, now being petted by the stranger, rested comfortably on his blanket bed. He left Lorena no option if she wished to keep an eye on her dog.

  She left one of her crutches in the doorway, holding the door-blanket wide open as she apprehensively approached the already lit altar. She felt her back pocket to make sure she still had her small knife, just in case. She knelt before the altar. “Why’re ya’ here? You ain’t from here. Bet there’re plenty of churches between here and wherever ya’ are from.”

  “Nostalgia. My brother just died, and this was the last place I saw him.”

  “Alejandro, the…” She thought carefully before insulting the bandito’s deceased brother, Siggy coming to mind, “the man who did this ta’ my leg.” She lifted her ankle.

  “Yes. My brother was overly aggressive. Probably why he was killed.”

  Lorena nodded, ignoring the small trembling her body refused to cease.

  “There was a raid on this town yesterday. Several banditos were killed, and if I’m not mistaken, one of yours too?” the stranger lifted his head to meet her eye-line.

  Lorena tensed up, instinctively reaching for her back pocket. As her fingers edged their way to the grip of her knife, she remembered where she was and suppressed her anger. “How do ya’—?”

  “Not all banditos work together, but we still talk.”

  Lorena hesitated, staring into the flame of the candles.

  “I lost my brother, Siggy.”

  “You lost a brother too. My condolences. If you don’t mind my asking…”

  Lorena couldn’t be sure, but it sounded as if the bandito’s voice began wavering.

  “What do you believe happens to them when they die?”

  “I dunno. All I know is I loved my brother, an’ now he’s gone.” Lorena’s eyes began watering, but she did her best to hold back the tears. Looking over to the bandito for the first time, she saw the subtle glistening on his cheek. “Are you… are ya’ crying?” she asked.

  The bandito wiped his cheek. After a moment, he turned to her. “Alejandro was a bastard. But like you, I loved my brother.”

  Lorena finally managed to relax, the trembling in her body starting to subside. “What’s yer name?”

  “I am Arturo Romero, of the infamous Romero family. Yours?”

  “Lorena.”

  “I wish I could say it was a pleasure, Lorena, but you see our circumstance.”

  Perrito wandered over to Lorena, taking a seat next to her. He nudged her, waiting to be petted.

  “Arturo, most banditos are nothin’ but violent bastards. Why’re ya’ with ‘em?”

  “I was born into it. I was told since I was very small that I would be a leader of the bandito clan. It’s my role in life, so I accept it. As to the violence…well, a dog’s only as good as its owner, wouldn’t you agree? If the owner is kind hearted, then you have a good mongrel like your dog here. However, if the owner is cruel…well, I think we all know.”

  “So the current ‘owner’ of the banditos…”

  “Is senile, but dangerous. There are those of us, kin leaders, who have been trying to convince Estaban to change his ways, but he’s been doing this much longer than most of us have been alive. To live this kind of life as long as he has…he’s everything anyone has ever said.”

  Lorena sat quietly, listening to Arturo’s story. Her stomach left her feeling uneasy; something she couldn’t describe reminded her of Siggy.

  “So yer a peaceful bandito? But banditos kill people.”

  “I am a bandito, so yes, I kill when I need to. Aren’t there times when you would—”

  A loud car pulled up outside, blasting LMFAO’s dance mix, “Party Rock Anthem,” as the engine cut off. They both turned toward the entrance of the
chantry to see a bright-red convertible parked outside the bar. The mare tied up near the chantry’s entryway began fretting, causing a ruckus.

  “Seems it’s my time to go. Viaje is getting upset. I wish you health and safety, Lorena, and truly, I regret what happened to your brother.”

  “I—I’m sorry Alejandro was yours.”

  Arturo excused himself and headed outside. Lorena, with Perrito’s help, rose to her feet and grabbed her crutches. The two of them exited the chantry, watching Arturo ride off.

  “Oh my God, is that you, Lauren?”

  Lorena redirected her attention to a buxom, short-haired brunette who ran up squealing and started hugging her. Hearing the commotion, Kody ran outside to help Lorena.

  “Uh, crutches. Careful please. An’ my name ain’t Lauren, it’s Lorena. Also ow, an’ who the hell?”

  As Lorena spoke, she looked past the strawberry brunette semi-accosting her to the rough-rugged man with the stubbly face still sitting in the passenger seat putting out a cigarette. Her least favorite cousin.

  “…aw shit.”

  Kody, standing baffled on the steps of the bar, watched Lorena. He stood, apparently waiting for some sort of sign to either help or stay out of the way. Receiving none, he spoke up.

  “Lorena, what’s—”

  The girl hugging Lorena slowly turned around to face Kody. He recognized the beaded hemp necklace he had made her still tied around her neck. “Huh. You changed your hair.”

  “You gotta be shittin’ me.” The hazel-eyed half-Mexican sighed. “Why the hell not?” Alma

  rubbed her forehead. “Hey, ex-honey bunny, how ya’ been?” was all she had to say.