Chapter 4. A Vagrant’s Story
“Ain’t hard to make even the worst of things sound good—that’s why I don’t listen much: I trust my gut. “
– The Scratch Pad of Adelais Martinez
Adelais took in a deep breath as he lowered his body against dirty wood grain. His bare chest bounced off the floor, aiding him in lifting his weight an inch above the ground. He struggled to contain the quivering in his arms as he counted the passing seconds. With a sharp thrust of his biceps, he exhaled, lifting his body back off the ground, drops of sweat falling to the floor in the process. He shook the droplets off, drawing another deep breath to continue the cycle.
After a minute of nonstop pushups, he stood up, leaning his back against the countertop to catch his breath. His tongue swayed around his mouth, catching a taste of copper as it made the rounds. He slid the sticky glob around his gums until it reached the front and spit it out, depositing a small stain of crimson on the bar floor. Adelais snorted, smearing the sanguine mark with his boot.
Taking a sip of water from a glass resting on the counter, he turned his focus toward the wall. He flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles before taking up a good posture. Feet securely in place, he began shadow boxing an illusory opponent, striking out with repeated quick jabs. Dodging one blow after another, he managed to keep his fictitious foe at bay.
Despite maintaining the upper hand on his nonexistent opponent, the momentum of his bloodied swings against the wall left him too distracted to anticipate anything else in his surroundings. The adrenaline fired up his nerves, heightening and amplifying his reflexes.
An imaginary shot rang out from behind him, dropping him to the floor. He remained grounded for a moment, heaving as his muscles ached with bewildered fury. Taking a moment to assess the situation, he realized it was only a past trauma resurfacing once more. He sprung to his feet, striking the wall with a powerful left jab that caught his fist within the foundation.
“Damnit!” Adelais exclaimed, trying to figure out how to remove his hand from its now semi-permanent fixture. As he wriggled around trying to free his hand, he only managed to cut himself. A slow clap echoed from behind. He refused to turn around, focusing on the problem of the moment.
“Gotta say, didn’t think ya’d start fightin’ the walls. Then again, they were about the only thing ya’ haven’t hit yet, so why not?”
He ignored Lorena, struggling with the pain of trying to liberate himself from his wooden incarceration. He pulled his shoulder back, but managed only to lodge more splinters into his hand. Ceasing the fight altogether, he shifted his weight to let Lorena by as she came around to inspect. She placed her hands on his, gently coaxing it out of the wall.
“Not every problem can be solved by force, ya’ big oaf. Sometimes ya’ gotta use a little grace until the situation works in your favor.”
“An’ sometimes ya’ gotta hit shit. What’dya want, Lore?”
“Making sure ya’ aren’t breaking my bar apart, fer one. My ma left it ta’ me—means I gotta take good care of it.”
“I’ll fix the damn hole.”
Adelais grabbed the glass on the counter, forcing the rest of the water down before slamming the glass back on the table. Lorena poured herself a glass from the pitcher and took a seat on a stool next to him. The two exchanged glances, deadlocked, until Lorena’s quiet chuckle broke the silence. She offered him a smile, and took up reading from her prayer book.
A sigh escaped from Adelais’s lips as he stood around. He rubbed his forehead and walked through the kitchen to the back of the bar. He took a seat on the porch, letting the dry, blistering heat bake his naked chest. Looking out over the sandy rocks, his mind started to drift to places locked away long ago. He remembered trees and a lake, a place full of green. The majesty of a clear blue sky full of clouds. The seat of his long-forgotten innocence. Whatever he had been in the past, he was born in the desert, and with a little luck, he would die there too.
He cast a glance to the woodpile sitting against the wall of the building, wondering what might be living under the stray pieces of timber. He’d nearly been stung by a scorpion before, but it was only a small one, and the incident happened to be one of the better parts of that particular day. He leaned forward and pushed off his knees, getting up to inspect the woodpile. He sifted through the old pieces of debris until he came across a reasonably sized piece of plywood. He pulled it out of the pile and inspected it before taking it back inside.
Lugging the wood through the kitchen and back into the bar, he passed Lorena, who paid him no mind as she continued reading. Gathering up his tools on the other side of the bar, he got to work on patching up the hole he put in the wall. “Didn’t mean ta’ break yer bar.” Adelais mumbled. Lorena closed her book and set it down, sitting up to watch him.
“Never figured ya’ did.”
“I jes’…” Adelais trailed off.
Lorena continued to watch as Adelais worked to cover up his mistake. Though not overly skilled with a hammer, he managed to accomplish his goal of trying to mend the damage he had caused. He set the hammer down and looked over his work as Lorena spoke up.
“It’s hard for ya’ here. I get that. None of us got an easy life, and even then, yours has been harder than most. But you’re the oldest, Ade. Yer supposed ta’ be a role model for Sig an’ me. Hell, I ain’t that much older than him, yet here I am runnin’ our little family. That seem right ta’ you?”
Adelais turned around, facing Lorena. He looked her over: an unassuming young woman much stronger and more responsible than anyone he had ever known.
“Ain’t my fault ya’ ended up in charge ‘cause yer ma got herself killed.”
Before he could stop himself from speaking, or involving his brain in the matter, the words had left his mouth. Lorena’s muscles tensed as she stood. Her hand balled up at her side, holding steady as she took a deep breath. She clenched her fist then slowly released it.
“I love ya’, Adelais, but you can be a real ass sometimes.”
Lorena grabbed her prayer book off the counter and headed outside. Adelais watched her go, and wandered back out onto the rear porch shortly after. He took a seat and leaned his head against the railing, watching a loose chicken run from a nearby coop.
“Not havin’ the best day, huh?”
A hand mussed up his hair as it rubbed his head. He grabbed the wrist and pulled it over his shoulder, flipping Siggy over him and dropping his little brother on his back in the dirt. Siggy lay there for a moment, trying to regain the wind that had been knocked out of him.
“Ya’ know better than ta’ sneak up on me, little brother.”
“Didn’t think I could.” Siggy groaned as he sat up, rubbing the back of his head. He got back up on his feet and took a seat next to his big brother, making sure to keep a safe distance between them. “Guess that fight with Alejandro slowed you down a bit, huh?”
“Nothin’ I ain’t dealt with before.”
“Yeah, yeah…you’re a badass.”
Adelais shot a glare at Siggy.
“Just sayin’. Gotta remember some of us ain’t like that.”
Adelais examined Siggy, who nodded with a brotherly expression that told Adelais he knew exactly what had just transpired with Lorena.
“Mind yer damn business, Sig.”
“It’s Lorena, so it is my business. Ever think about what happens ta’ us if something happens ta’ her? Or if she decides she don’t want us around anymore?”
“We’ll get by, like always.”
“Ain’t nowhere left for us ta’ go, Ade. Can’t afford ta’ get kicked out again. There’s nowhere left. We lose this place, only home for us will be with the banditos.”
Adelais snorted, slamming his fist against the side of the railing. He quickly drew his arm back, trying to stop himself from causing any more collateral damage.
“Just sayin’, Ade. I like it here. It’s quiet, almost peaceful, and we got Lorena. Let’s try not to
lose our family this time.”
Adelais cocked a half-grin, faux punching Siggy’s shoulder. He left his hand on his younger brother’s shoulder. Siggy returned the gesture by wrapping his right arm around Ade’s and placing it on his shoulder. They patted each other on the back, Adelais shoving Siggy off shortly after. The younger Martinez brother freed himself of his older brother’s grasp, heading back inside. Rummaging from the pantry echoed out onto the porch as Siggy began preparing a meal.
Looking out over the dusty, sunny afternoon sky, Siggy’s words made a kind of sense. This wasn’t the home they’d lost long ago, but it was home now, and it might be a place worth fighting for. He just had to figure out how to do it without breaking the whole damned place down.