Words All The Way Down

Behind Tristan, in the communal area of the Lynwood Projects, the plucking sound of a vihuela filled the night air. The remnant smells of chicken and steak were slowly giving way to the cloying cinnamon-y sweetness of churros. String lights ran from post to post ensured all shadows pointed in front of him. Only the best for abuela’s birthday.

The street in front of him was dimly lit by the moon above. There were street lights, but they hadn’t worked for longer than he’d been alive. More’s the better, he thought, as he adjusted the pistol in his waistband. No one should have to see what goes on there during the day, let alone at night. He scanned the darkness again.

In an alleyway, he saw a swaying dark shape slowly getting larger. Pistol out of his waistband, he yelled into the night, “Wrong place to be tonight. Keep moving.” The shape kept approaching. Tristan flicked the safety. “Are you deaf or something? I said keep moving.”

“Chill bro. I just want to see abuela,” the shape responded. A few more steps and the shape became Victor. Hands raised, he said, “Is that too much to ask?”

Tristan took aim. “You dipped the fuck out to start your own thing. You have been giving us hell for months now. There are at least six people back there working on gunshot wounds because of you. And you just want to see abuela.” He readjusted his grip, “Yeah, it’s getting there.”

Victor shrugged. If he wasn’t abuela’s favorite, Tristan thought, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. Instead, he asked, “What’s in the box?”

“A snow globe for abuela. That and the knife in my pocket is all I’ve got tonight. Pat me down. Do whatever. Just let me in.”

An accordion joined the vihuela in the background. Out of the corner of his eye, Tristan saw another lookout had moved closer. “Leon,” he called out. “Watch my back while I pat this traitor down.”

Safety back on, pistol back in his waistband, Tristan approached. “You better not try something.”

True to Victor’s word the only items Tristan found were the box and the knife. Moonlight glinted off the blade, just bright enough to read the engraving, PUTA. Victor winked, “I know you have to keep it. Don’t worry. It suits you.” Tristan used the knife to cut the seal on the box. And, sure enough, inside was a snow globe.

Tristan straightened up and pocketed the knife. Squaring his shoulders, he sized up Victor and said, “One last thing” and punched him in the gut. Victor fell to his hands and knees, gasping for air. “Alright. Everything looks good. Follow me and don’t try anything. Leon, keep an eye out.”

From the ground, Victor flipped him off and shakily got back to his feet. Tristan let him collect the box, and they both set off to the communal area. The string lights were blinding at first glance; they were the first light he’d looked at since the sun went down hours ago. As the pair made their way through the party, rustling and murmurs spread out around them. Shirt hems were adjusted to reveal pistols. In the center of it all sat abuela in front of a slightly melted ice cream cake.

Victor placed the box on the table and raised his voice a bit for abuela to hear, “Happy birthday abuela. I have a gift for you.” Abuela took out the snow globe. In the additional light, Tristan saw a plaque he had missed before, IZAMAL.

Abuela cried out laughing, “What is my town doing in this slow globe! They’d think the sky is falling if it actually snowed there.”

She caressed Victor’s cheek, “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you niño.” Tears now filled her eyes. “You’ve grown so thin.” She grabbed the closest food. “Quick eat this churro.” She shoved one in his hand. “You too Tristan, I see you hanging around back there. And, for the rest of you stop staring at me. I’ll be fine.”

Conversation picked back up, and the music Tristan hadn’t noticed stop resumed. He felt the grainy texture of the churro in his hand and took a bite. The sweetness of the dessert he hadn’t expected to eat tonight filled his mouth. In between bites, he looked back at Victor and abuela. At least, for tonight, it looked like things were going to be alright.