“I know, it’s like a cave in there,” Javier says, laughing.
“How do you do your homework? How do you work on those piñatas with so little light?”
“You grow raccoon eyes after a while.” Javier makes circles around his eyes with his thumbs and index fingers. Then, turning serious, he says, “That was a lot of money you left us yesterday. More than three piñatas’ worth. Thanks.”
Emiliano nods. They walk side by side toward the bus stop half a mile down the hill, then pause to sit on the rusty hood of an abandoned car. A squealing pig with two barefoot kids behind it runs on the dirt road in front of them. Javier watches with delight while Emiliano wonders how to say what he wants to say. He had a speech along the lines of Mr. Esmeralda’s, but right there and then, with the smell of raw sewage making it hard to breathe, telling Javier that there’s no way to be successful without getting a little dirty seems inappropriate for some reason.
“So what is it?” Javier asks. In the distance, it sounds as if the pig has been caught.
Emiliano takes a deep breath, which he immediately regrets. He searches for a source of the smell more specific than the whole neighborhood and notices a stream of water flowing down the hill behind them.
“Wouldn’t it be good if you could get out of this place?” Emiliano asks.
Javier shrugs. “There’s worse places.”
Is he serious? Javier is smiling, but Emiliano can tell that he also meant what he said.
He decides to launch into it. “After I picked up your piñatas yesterday, I ran into some people who want to do business with me. With us, if you’re interested.”
“Yeah?”
“We wouldn’t be working for them, like their employees or anything. We would have our own operation, but they would supply us with the product.”
“Product? You mean they also make handicrafts?”
“No. We would continue to make the handicrafts. I mean, you would continue to make the piñatas and other papier-mâché animals.”
“Along with the other Jiparis.”
“Actually, this particular operation, this part of the business, would be just you and me.”
Javier looks confused. “I don’t understand. Why do we need these other guys?”
“They would supply the product to put inside the piñatas. Then the piñatas would be taken across the border to the United States, pretty much the way they’re being shipped now, except they would go to shops controlled by our business associates.”
Javier stares at Emiliano with open-eyed amazement for a long time and then laughs. “ ‘Product.’ You mean cocaine, heroin, things like that.”
“Yes. I think we could decide what kind, if we preferred one kind of product over another.”
Javier shakes his head. He and Emiliano watch the barefoot boys, who have now caught the pig. One boy holds its front legs and the other the back legs. The pig is breathing heavily and making tiny baby sounds. They carry the pig back toward the houses.
Emiliano continues, after the boys and the pig have gone by, “We would be in control of the operation. We would always keep it small. The same number of piñatas you’re making now. No more. You stay in school. I stay in school. Nothing really changes. Let’s say we do six piñatas a week. As I understand it, that amount will get us, after we pay everyone, around fifteen thousand pesos. Eight thousand for you and seven thousand for me. Or more for you, if you want, since you’re doing most of the work.”
Javier whistles. “That’s a lot.”
“Yeah, it is. That’s just for six piñatas. The guy I talked to suggested twelve a week, but I think fewer is better.”
“Eight thousand a week.”
“Your mother and Rosario together don’t make that much in a year.”
“Gosh.” Javier scratches his head. Then, “And if we’re caught? I’ve been in a Juárez jail. You think this place stinks …”
“I thought about that a lot,” Emiliano says. “If we do this, I want to make sure that no one knows who you are. You’ll never have any contact with anyone but me. Not with the suppliers, not with the shop owners. No one. If something happens, they will only be able to trace the piñatas to me. I’ll even start making some in my house so they believe me when I tell them it’s just me.”
“You’re not afraid?”
“The main thing is to keep it small, not get greedy. If we can do that, we’ll be okay. I’ll continue selling other kids’ handicrafts. Our operation will blend in unnoticed. Once I make enough to take care of my mother and sister, and you make enough to take care of your mother and sisters, we stop. I’m thinking maybe one year, two years at the most.”
“Is that why you want to do this? So we can help our families?”
Emiliano swallows. Is that the only reason? Is it necessary to tell Javier all of the reasons? He exhales. He will answer truthfully. That’s what he decided to do last night. “I guess there’s another reason.” He stares for a few moments at a puddle in the middle of the road. Where did that puddle come from? It hasn’t rained in two months. “I … I like this girl at school. Her name is Perla Rubi. She’s … Her family is very wealthy. Her father knows the people that we would be doing business with. Anyway, Perla Rubi’s father talked to me and explained to me how things are, business-wise, here in Juárez, and maybe all of Mexico, how you can’t really get ahead unless you’re willing to do things you don’t like.”
“And Perla Rubi? She wants you to do it too?”
He remembers the promise of Perla Rubi’s kiss. “I’m not sure she knows the details of what I’d be doing, but she’s happy that her father likes me. It would be impossible for her to have me as a boyfriend if her family did not accept me. And from what her father said to me, they would not accept me unless I could take care of her. They want someone who will do all it takes—make all the sacrifices that are needed—for their daughter.” He shakes his head. “Right now, how am I ever going to do that? I mean, look at me. I’m going to graduate from high school next year, and what will I do? I’m not smart enough to go to college. I’m good at soccer, but not good enough to make a living out of it. I want to own my own store, but how will I get the money for that? So what will I do? Work in an assembly plant?” Emiliano slides down from the hood.
Javier slides down too and stands next to him. They both lean on the car, looking at a little girl returning home from the water spigot with a plastic bucket. After she goes past them, Javier says, “It’s okay with me. If you want to do it, I’ll do it too.”
Emiliano pushes himself away from the car. Javier looks as if he’s holding something back. “Tell me,” Emiliano says. “If we’re going to be partners, we need to be honest with each other.”
“ ‘I will be honest with myself and others,’ ” Javier says, remembering the Jipari pledge.
“I know. I feel bad about our Jipari pledge too.” Emiliano and Javier both stare at the ground for a few moments. “Maybe it’s not realistic—that part of the pledge. We’ll be faithful to the rest of the pledge. We’ll abstain from all intoxicants and we will be doing something for the benefit of others.”