Back when Emiliano shoplifted, his first theft was a cheap watch he didn’t even want. It happened a few days after his mother received the divorce papers from his father, who had gone to the United States two years earlier. His father had spent so much time preaching to Emiliano about what was right and wrong that the shoplifting felt like revenge. He wore the watch for a week, like a trophy. Then the stealing became more systematic. He’s always been a good planner. He checked out the store, noticing where the surveillance cameras were located. He had a knife and pliers in his pocket to disconnect items from the sensors that would trigger alarms. He found a man who would buy what he stole. The money he got went to pay the family’s bills, because the money his father continued to send was not enough. He always felt the same mixture of excitement and fear when he entered a store, like he stood on the edge of a deep canyon.
Then he was caught. A stupid mistake, not to have suspected a hidden surveillance camera in an electronics store. This proposal of Mr. Reyes’s is different—not stupid. It represents big money and the risk is small. The need to pay the bills, to make his life and his family’s life safer and more comfortable, is still there. Why not, if he’s careful? He can proceed slowly. Not twelve piñatas, even. Six. Even one half of the thirty thousand pesos Mr. Reyes mentioned would bring happiness to his family, and make it easier for him to be with Perla Rubi.
He sighs and pushes the thought away. He forces himself to remember the three days he spent with Brother Patricio in the Sierra Tarahumara after he was caught stealing. They didn’t have any food or water other than what they found, and Emiliano was full of anger, swearing and fighting. The desert taught him that unchanneled anger would destroy him, that anger needed to be converted into courage and determination to overcome the obstacles in his life. Success takes hard, slow, persistent work, Brother Patricio said. There are no shortcuts to getting what he wants. He must remember that. No shortcuts. He’ll make money, but he’ll work for it.
And Armando and Mr. Reyes? The main thing is that he can say no. No one is forcing him to do anything. He listened to Mr. Reyes, but tomorrow he’ll tell Armando thanks but no thanks. Maybe he’ll wait until Monday. It doesn’t hurt to think about it over the weekend.
One thing’s for sure: He’s not going to lug that box full of whatever to Perla Rubi’s house. If Emiliano gets stopped or someone steals the car with the box, that would be the end of him. What he needs to do is drive straight to Taurus right now and dump the car and the box. He looks at the clock on the dashboard. It’ll be five thirty by the time he gets to Taurus. By the time he bicycles back home, showers, and then gets to Perla Rubi’s house, it will be close to midnight. Perla Rubi wanted him to come at six. All right: He’ll hide the box in a safe place and then drive to Perla Rubi’s in the Mercedes. In the morning, he’ll take the car and box to Armando. But what about tonight, after the party? He slows down and pulls into the gravel area on the side of the road, then takes out his phone.
Please, Paco. Please pick up.
“Hello?”
“Oh, man. I’m so glad you’re home,” Emiliano says. “Listen, I need to park a car in the back of your house for one night.”
“What car?”
“It’s a long story. The grandmother of one of the Jipari kids works at this club, and the owner paid me to take the car to the repair shop. It got too late and I have to keep it overnight. It’s a Mercedes. I don’t want to leave it in front of my house.”
“A Mercedes? What are you up to?”
“Just let me park it in back of your house.”
“Does this have something to do with that birthday party? Are you doing things to try to impress Perla Rubi’s family?”
Emiliano closes his eyes. “I’ll give you a hundred if you let me park in back of your house.”
“How much did you get?”
“For what?”
“For taking the car to the repair shop.”
Emiliano knows exactly where Paco is headed. Best friends think alike, unfortunately. “Five hundred.”
“I’ll let you do it for two hundred.”
“Okay, okay. Two hundred. But you have to lend me your black loafers. I need them for this party.”
“How are you going to get there? I thought you were parking the car in my backyard.”
“I’m parking it in your backyard after I come home from the party.”
“So you are doing this to impress Perla Rubi’s parents. You think driving a fancy car is going to do it? Why don’t you find a nice girl who likes your poor ass for what it is?”
“Are you going to lend me the shoes or not?”
“Fine. If you’re determined to make a fool of yourself, you might as well do it with nice shoes. Don’t step in any crap at your fancy birthday party.”
“I’ll be there in about half an hour.”
“Oh, man, we’re on our way out to dinner. I’ll leave the key to the gate under the Virgen in my mother’s garden. Careful with the flowers. If we’re asleep when you get back, make sure you lock the gate after you park the car.”
“And the shoes?”
“I’ll leave them on a chair on the back porch.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Hey, Emiliano. You’re not doing anything illegal, are you?”
“Bye, Paco.”
Oh, thank God. Someone is watching out for him. He’s not religious, but at moments like this, it’s hard not to believe in the guardian angel his mother claims is always by his side. He was wondering how he was going to explain the Mercedes to Sara and his mother.
It’s ten after five when he pulls up in front of his house. He looks around to make sure no one is on the street or looking out their windows. He pops open the trunk, lifts out the box with the black tape, and takes it to the toolshed in the back. He moves the shovels and picks and rakes and places the box in the farthest corner of the shed. Then he covers it with a canvas splotched with paint. The boxes with the folk art he takes inside the house. He showers, dresses, and is out the door carrying the beautiful chocolate cake Mami left for him on the kitchen table, next to a note from Sara:
We’re on our way to Guillermo’s daughter’s quinceañera. Mami wants to go to the Mass first. Behave at the party. How did you ever get Mami to bake you a cake? You owe her big! Be good.
He texts Perla Rubi.
I’m on my way. Running a little late.
He drives the two blocks to Paco’s house and finds the loafers. Paco even shined them for him. Paco may say that Emiliano and Perla Rubi are not long term, but deep down, Emiliano knows, Paco is rooting for him to succeed. If he makes it permanently into Perla Rubi’s world, there’s hope for everyone. Paco is also a thief, given that Emiliano has to pay him two hundred pesos for one night’s parking and the use of the loafers. Still, the peace of mind he gets from not leaving the expensive car out on the street is worth it. He locks the gate and places the key under the statue of the Virgen de Guadalupe. He pats the Virgen’s head for good luck.
In the last remaining box of the newspaper’s archives of material on the missing girls, Sara finds a picture of the girl in the e-mail. She’s younger and happier looking and doesn’t appear worn out yet. The words Erica Rentería are written in pencil on the back. Sara looks for the letter from the mother or father that always accompanies pictures of the missing girls, but there’s no message or envelope or anything else she can use to contact the family.