A Long Night In Bakersfield
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The day after the shooting, I went back to work. There was a lot of buzz about it in the newsroom and around town; everyone had their own theories as to who did what or why. The police were tight-lipped on details—they’d released only that there would be no charges filed against anyone involved in the incident.
It wasn’t until late afternoon when they finally let me know that my housekeeper, Maria Gomez, had been shot dead while she slept upstairs. She’d died instantly from a single bullet wound through her heart.
I called home right away but got no answer. When I left work at five o’clock, I found a note taped to the door: “Maria has gone with God.” Her body lay in an open casket at Our Lady of Guadalupe Church, where funeral services began just before six p.m., and then she was taken by hearse for burial in the family plot beside her husband’s grave.
My mother said nothing about Maria during our weekly phone call later that night. But my father told me he hadn’t heard anything more than we already knew from the police. He added that since his wife had died, he didn’t think much about how many years they’d both lived, because every year now seemed like one too many.
“Maybe this will help you feel better,” Dad said. “At least your housekeeper is going to rest easy now.”
I felt terrible hearing him say such things. My parents loved Maria as if she were their daughter. They’d known each other all their lives. And it made me sick to imagine them having to go on without her.
It was dark outside when I pulled into the driveway behind my car. As usual, I parked facing out toward the street so I could see any visitors coming up the walkway. A few minutes passed before headlights appeared down the block and turned onto my street.
Someone was driving slowly past my house, probably looking for parking. Then another set of lights came on farther along the road and turned into my cul de sac. This time I recognized the vehicle. It belonged to a friend named Chris.
He pulled up next to my car and rolled down his window. “Hey, man,” he shouted over the sound of traffic. “How are you doing?”
I stepped out of my shoes and walked across the lawn toward him. I was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, which looked strange compared to the way most people dressed in Bakersfield these days. We used to have some pretty good bands here once upon a time, but not anymore. Now the music scene consisted mostly of country singers who wore cowboy hats and boots even though they never rode horses.
Chris had long hair tied back in a ponytail, and he always smelled faintly of cigarettes. His clothes were baggy and worn, and he drove a beat-up old pickup truck. I liked hanging out with him because he reminded me of the kind of guy I’d grown up with in Georgia.
He played guitar in a band called the Rednecks, and sometimes he brought them by the office to play live versions of their songs for us. Their latest album had come out last week, and they’d started playing gigs again.
We sat in my living room talking for a while. I asked him what he thought about the shooting at the store. He shrugged. “That sucks, man. What happened? Did you find out yet?”
“No, not really. Just that someone opened fire on the place.”
“What do you mean, ‘someone’? You don’t think it was one of those idiots who sent you threatening notes?”
I shook my head. “Not unless whoever did this knows me personally. I’ve never met anyone who hates me enough to shoot me. Not even close.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Yeah, I’m positive. If somebody wanted to kill me, they wouldn’t need to send a letter first. All they’d have to do is show up at my front door and pull the trigger.”
“So maybe you should start worrying about getting killed instead of trying to figure out who’s responsible for the shooting.”
“I’ll worry about whatever comes up. Right now I just want to get back to normal. Get some sleep tonight, go to work tomorrow morning, and try to forget about everything else.”
“Well, I guess that makes sense. That’s the best thing you can do under the circumstances.”
“Thanks,” I said.
Then he stood up and stretched. “Look, I gotta run. I’m meeting the guys at the club in half an hour. But I’ll stop by your office sometime soon and bring you something to eat. How does that sound?”
“Sounds great. Thanks, man.”
After he left, I went upstairs to change my clothes. When I came downstairs, Maria’s ghost was sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee. She gave me a smile. “Hi there, sonny boy,” she said.
This wasn’t unusual. Sometimes she would appear to me in the middle of the day or late at night, usually when I was feeling lonely. Or sad. It was hard to tell why she chose to visit me, except that I suppose she must have been worried about me.
She was wearing a white dress today. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, and her eyes were sunken in deep sockets. The only color in her face came from the blue veins running beneath the surface of her cheeks.
“Hello, Mrs. Vargas,” I said. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, yes,” she answered. “Everything is fine. Are you ready to leave for school?”
“Almost,” I replied. “Just waiting on my mom.”
Maria nodded and smiled. “Okay then, let me give you a little advice. Don’t be too quick to judge people. Especially men.”
“Why?”
“Because you might end up being wrong. And the last thing you want to do is make enemies out of the wrong people. Be careful who you trust and who you spend time with. Remember: There are more dangerous people than you know out there.”
“I understand,” I told her. “But how am I supposed to protect myself from all of them?”
“By keeping yourself safe. By making sure nobody gets the chance to hurt you.”
“I will,” I promised. Then I headed out the door.
***
My mother was still asleep when I got home. I didn’t bother waking her. Instead, I took my backpack into the bathroom and changed into my uniform. Afterward, I grabbed my lunch box and made my way downstairs.
When I reached the bottom step, I saw my father standing in the doorway leading to the garage. He looked like he hadn’t slept much either. He wore his usual gray suit and tie, but his shirt was wrinkled and there was a dark stain on the cuff of one sleeve. He held a brown paper sack in one hand.
“Hey, Dad,” I said as I walked past him toward the kitchen.
He followed me inside. “Where’s Mom?”
“Still sleeping. Why?”
“Oh, nothing. Have a good day.”
As we entered the kitchen, I noticed that the house was unusually quiet. No music playing in the background, and no television on in the den. My parent’s bedroom door was closed, so I couldn’t hear anything going on behind it. The only sounds came from our dog barking outside.
“Dad, where’s everybody?” I asked.
“They’re gone,” he said.
“Gone?”
“Your grandparents decided to take off early this morning. They had some business to attend to downstate.”
“Didn’t you say they were coming here yesterday evening?”
“That’s right. We spent most of the afternoon together. Your grandma cooked dinner while your grandpa watched the game.”
“And then what happened?”
“We ate, talked, laughed, and played cards until late at night. Then your grandmother fell asleep on the couch. So your grandfather carried her to bed.”
“How long ago did they leave?”
“About two hours ago. I helped them pack their bags before heading over to the station to meet with Captain Rocha.”
“What about Maria? Did she come by?”
“No, not yet. I expect her any minute though.”
“You think she knows something?”
“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe she doesn’t care anymore. Either way, I don’t blame her for wanting to stay away from us. Not after what happened.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
A few minutes later, Maria arrived carrying a large shopping bag. She set it down next to the refrigerator and stepped aside so that I could enter first. As I passed through the kitchen, I caught sight of the brown paper sack hanging from her elbow.
“I brought you some food,” she said. “Hope you like Chinese.”
I glanced inside the bag. A dozen egg rolls, a couple lo mein dishes, and several fortune cookies.
“Thanks,” I said. “It smells delicious.”
“Here, open these first,” she instructed. “Then you can get started on those other things.”
I pulled out three of the egg rolls and bit into one. It tasted great. But I wasn’t really hungry.
“Are you feeling okay?” she asked.
“Fine,” I lied. “Just tired.”
“Well, if you need me to help you with anything else, just let me know.”
“I’ll try,” I responded.
“Good,” she said. “Now go have fun at school. You’ve been working hard enough lately.”
“I will,” I assured her.
After I finished eating, I went upstairs to change clothes. When I returned, I found Maria sitting cross-legged on the living room floor.
She had laid out everything I would need for today’s class project: a piece of poster board, markers, glue sticks, scissors, and a pair of safety goggles.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I teased.
“Not funny,” she scolded. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re finally taking this seriously.”
“So am I,” I admitted. “Although I wish we weren’t doing it in the basement.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want anybody seeing me.”
“Nobody is allowed down there except for me and your dad.”
“Except for me and my friends,” I corrected. “And I don’t want them to see me.”
Maria stared at me for a moment. Then she shook her head and began gathering up the supplies.
“Okay, let’s get moving,” she ordered.
The rest of the morning went quickly. Maria showed me how to cut and paste, mix colors, use different types of brushes, and more. By noon, I had completed my masterpiece.
“Wow!” I exclaimed when I finished. “This looks amazing! Are you sure nobody has ever done this before?”
“Of course not,” she replied. “But I bet yours will be the best one yet.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “Come on, let’s put it on display.”
We moved all of the furniture back into place, hung the poster board from the ceiling using a rope attached to an overhead beam, and placed a small table underneath the center of the drawing. Then we turned on the lights and stood back to admire our handiwork.
“There,” Maria declared. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Very impressive,” I agreed. “I didn’t realize you were such a good artist.”
“Oh, I’m not,” she insisted. “In fact, I suck at art. But I guess that makes this even better since it’s the worst thing I’ve ever made.”
She reached forward and grabbed the edge of the poster board. Then she lifted it off the ground and held it above her head.
“Look at this!” she shouted. “Can you believe it? This was created by the hands of a child!”
“Do you mean me?” I asked.
“Sure do,” she responded. “See for yourself.”
With that, she lowered the poster board toward the floor. The crowd of students who had gathered around us gasped as the huge image of the dragon appeared.
“Whoa,” someone whispered.
“That’s awesome,” another voice added.
“Is that real?” a third person wondered aloud.
“How did they make it look so realistic?”
“Didn’t anyone tell them that dragons aren’t supposed to fly?”
“Does everybody see what I see?” Maria asked.
“Looks pretty cool to me,” a boy answered.
“Wonderful work, kids,” Ms. Wright announced. “Let’s give these two a round of applause.”
Everyone applauded enthusiastically. Even I clapped along. Afterward, I looked over at Maria. Her face glowed with pride.
“You’re welcome,” she told me. “Now hurry up and finish your project. We still have plenty left to do.”
***
By the time lunch rolled around, I was exhausted. My body ached from standing on my feet all day long. And the constant noise of dozens of voices shouting and laughing seemed to be getting louder and louder with each passing second.
“What are you going to eat?” Maria asked.
“Whatever you’re having,” I replied. “It doesn’t matter to me.”
“Well, I think you should try something new today,” she suggested. “I’m making grilled cheese sandwiches.”
“Sounds good,” I agreed. “Lead the way.”
As we walked across the cafeteria, Maria pointed out several other people she knew. She introduced me to everyone, but most of them already knew who I was. They greeted me warmly anyway, which surprised me because I hadn’t expected any of them to remember me after only one week.
When we arrived at our usual spot near the windows, Maria pulled a plate of food from under the table. Then she handed me a sandwich and a glass of milk.
“Thanks,” I said.
“No problem,” she replied. “Here, take a bite. It’ll taste much better if you chew slowly.”
“I know,” I sighed. “My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton balls right now.”
“Sorry about that,” she apologized. “Maybe we can go somewhere else tomorrow.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I replied. “Or maybe I just need to learn to relax.”
We sat in silence while we ate our lunches. As soon as I finished mine, I pushed away from the table and started walking toward the trash cans. A few seconds later, I heard Maria call out to me.
“Hey, wait up,” she called.
I stopped and waited for her to catch up with me. When she got close enough, she took my arm and led me to a quiet corner of the room where no one could hear us.
“Why don’t you come to sit down here?” she suggested.
“Okay,” I agreed.
Maria guided me to a seat next to hers. Then she leaned forward and spoke softly.
“Listen,” she began. “I want you to stop worrying so much. You’re doing fine. Everyone likes you.”
“They do?” I asked. “Because I feel like an outsider sitting alone at lunch every day.”
“Don’t worry about that,” she assured me. “Nobody cares. Most of the people here are too busy talking to themselves to notice anybody else.”
“But I’m different,” I protested. “And I’m afraid nobody will accept me.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she scoffed. “Just be yourself. That’s all there is to it.”
“It’s not that easy,” I argued. “I’m scared.”
“Of course you are,” Maria reminded me. “Everybody gets nervous when they start a new school. But you’ve been through worse than this before. Remember how hard it was for you to adjust to living with your aunt and uncle last year? Well, things were even harder for me. So I understand exactly what you’re feeling right now.”
“Really?” I asked. “How come you didn’t say anything back then?”
“Because I wasn’t sure if you’d listen,” she explained. “If you weren’t ready to talk, I couldn’t force you into it. Besides, I thought you might be embarrassed if you found out that somebody else went through the same thing.”
“Oh,” I muttered. “So why am I telling you now?”
“I guess I figured you needed someone to confide in,” Maria admitted. “Besides, you never know what kind of help you may be able to offer another person.”
“You mean like you helped me?” I asked.
“Yes,” she nodded. “In fact, I think you played a big part in helping me get over my fear of flying.”
“Me?” I gasped. “How did I do that?”
“Remember how terrified you were during our flight home from Florida?” she asked. “After we landed, I felt terrible about everything that happened. I kept thinking about how I must have caused you so much pain.”
“I didn’t mind,” I insisted. “The whole experience made me realize how lucky I am to live in America.”
“Still, I worried about you,” Maria continued. “I wondered whether or not you would ever forgive me.”
“Forgive you?” I echoed. “What for?”
“Well, I was the one who forced you onto the plane,” she explained. “And I also put you on the wrong bus in Orlando. If I had done my job properly, none of those things would have happened.”
“I still don’t see how I could possibly blame you,” I objected. “I was the one who wanted to visit Disney World. And I told you I wouldn’t complain again if you let me ride Space Mountain.”
“Even though you were being stubborn and difficult,” she noted. “At least until you finally gave in and rode the roller coaster.”
“Yeah,” I laughed. “Now I wish I hadn’t given in. Because I hate that stupid ride!”
“Anyway, after you calmed down, I realized something important,” she added. “You were really upset because you were afraid of getting hurt. You didn’t care about the roller coaster itself; you were only concerned about the possibility of falling off the track and breaking your neck.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “And that’s the way I feel about starting a new school. I’m worried about meeting all these strange kids and making friends. I’m afraid I’ll mess up somehow and end up losing everybody.”
“You won’t lose anyone,” Maria promised. “Trust me, everyone feels the same way when they first arrive at a new place. It takes time to make friends. The trick is to keep trying.”
“Thanks, Maria,” I said gratefully. “I feel better already.”
She patted me on the shoulder and smiled.
“Good,” she replied. “Then maybe you can go eat lunch now.”
“All right,” I agreed. “Thank you for listening to me.”
“My pleasure,” she grinned. “Now let’s both try to forget about our problems and enjoy our lunches together.”
We sat quietly eating our food while we chatted about nothing special. After a few minutes, Maria pushed her tray away and looked around the cafeteria. Then she pointed toward the far corner of the room and spoke softly.
“Look,” she whispered. “There he is.”
I followed her finger and saw a tall boy standing by himself near the window. He seemed to be looking outside as well. His long black hair hung loosely across his forehead, but I noticed several strands were missing. They lay scattered on the floor beneath him.
“Who is that?” I asked.
“His name is Paul,” Maria answered. “He used to be a basketball star at his old school, but now he doesn’t play anymore. That’s probably why nobody talks to him very often.”
“Why isn’t anybody talking to him?” I asked.
Maria shrugged.
“Maybe people just aren’t interested in hanging out with an athlete who lost his skills,” she suggested. “Or maybe they’re afraid of hurting his feelings.”
“That makes sense,” I mused. “But why does he look so sad?”
“Probably because nobody wants to be friends with him,” Maria speculated. “They treat him like a loser instead of realizing that he has other qualities besides sportsmanship.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Well, there are lots of things,” she began. “Paul is nice and polite. He always says ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ Plus, he’s smart. He knows more about science than most of us will learn in five years. And he likes to read books too.”
“Wow,” I exclaimed. “Sounds like a great guy.”
“He is,” Maria assured me. “If only somebody would give him a chance.”
“Do you think you can talk to him?” I asked.
“Sure,” she replied. “It shouldn’t take long. All I need to do is tell him how much I admire his courage. Maybe then he’ll stop feeling lonely.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “Let’s go.”
As we approached, Paul turned toward us. He stared at Maria for a moment before turning back to the window.
“Hi,” he greeted us politely. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Not really,” she admitted. “How about you? Did you come to sit alone again today?”
“No,” he shook his head. “Actually, I came over to ask you a favor.”
“A favor?” she repeated. “What kind of a favor?”
“Would you mind if I joined you for lunch?” he asked. “I’d like to get some fresh air.”
“Of course,” Maria nodded eagerly. “Come on, I want you to meet someone else. This is my friend, Alex.”
“Hi,” Paul replied. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” I responded. “So, what did you want to ask me?”
“Nothing serious,” he explained. “Just wanted to know if you could show me around this place sometime. My parents never took me anywhere interesting growing up, so I don’t have any idea where anything is.”
“Oh,” I frowned. “I guess that wouldn’t work. I’ve been here since last year, and I still haven’t seen half the school.”
“Don’t worry,” Maria reassured him. “I’ll introduce you to lots of people. You should be able to find your way around after that.”
Paul looked relieved.
“Thanks,” he sighed. “This place seems pretty big though. How am I ever going to find everything without help?”
“I promise not to leave you behind,” Maria chuckled. “I can even bring you along with me next weekend when I visit my grandparents.”
“Really?” he asked excitedly. “Can I go too?”
“Sure,” she agreed. “You can ride in the car with us, or you can walk alongside if you prefer.”
“Either one works fine for me,” he declared. “And thank you! I’m sure it will be fun.”
“Great!” Maria grinned. “Now all we need to figure out is which day to take off from school.”
“Friday sounds good,” I suggested. “My dad usually takes me shopping on Saturdays anyway.”
“Good choice,” Paul smiled. “Then I won’t miss anything important.”
After that, we continued chatting until the bell rang. We said goodbye to Paul and went to our classrooms. As we walked down the hallway, Maria told me about her conversation with Paul. She was glowing with happiness.
The End