Page 95 of Hunter's Hidden Camera
“That’s all just an act,” says Carlos. “We’re trying to teach her real toughness. Real strength. ‘Cause the world is easy on some people, and the world is hard on some people. It don’t matter your race or your money or your gender. It’s like God just picks and chooses at random. ‘This boy is gonna have it easy. This boy is gonna have it hard.’ God pointed at Blanca, and he said, ‘Hard.’ So we gotta make sure she knows how to deal with a life like that.”
I don’t know that I agree with Carlos, but I nod my head. “Sure, sure.”
“I mean, there was a time when it looked like she was going to be okay. Growing up. But then middle school came, and then we knew. She gonna have a hard life.”
“What happened in middle school?” I ask.
“You don’t know?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“If you knew, you would know,” Carlos says. “In sixth grade, Blanca had this best friend, some white-bread girl named Monica. And Blanca went over to her house all the time for sleepovers. Monica’s parents never let her come to our apartment because our neighborhood was bad, and her parents were all like lawyers and rich and couldn’t be seen in our area or some shit. So whenever Blanca was at Monica’s house, Monica’s dad was, like, friendly. Too friendly. Blanca told us later that she knew something was wrong with him, but she didn’t know what, really. He looked at her weird. He stroked her arm. He touched her leg. He’d give her a hug that lasted too long. You know what I’m getting at, right?”
“I think so.”
“Well, Blanca didn’t really think anything about it, because it didn’t seem to bother Monica at all. Then one night, Blanca had to take a piss in the middle of the night, so she walked out of Monica’s room and went into the bathroom. But before she could shut the door, Monica’s dad came in and turned off the light. Blanca tried to scream, but this motherfucker put his hand over her mouth. He started smelling her neck.
“She was frozen. She didn’t know what to do. I mean, she was eleven, so what was she gonna do? Lucky for her, Monica’s mother walked into the bathroom just in time, and Blanca ran out and went back into Monica’s room. She couldn’t sleep the rest of the night, because she was watching the door. He didn’t come in.
“Blanca had enough sense to tell our family about it the next day, and we went down to the police station to file a report. But it turned into this big thing where it was Blanca’s word against this man’s. And he was this rich lawyer that everyone in town knew. And Blanca was just some fat girl that came from a poor family. No one was gonna believe her. Not even Monica believed her. Not even Monica’s mother believed her, even though this bitch saw it with her own eyes. How are you not gonna believe your own eyes? So there wasn’t enough evidence to get him locked up. Not even enough to have a trial or anything.
“So Manny and I—we were fifteen and sixteen at the time—we followed this man, this lawyer. We staked him out for a week. See where he goes, see what time. Then one night, in the parking lot of the building where his law firm was, we jumped him. Beat the shit out of him. I had a crowbar, and Manny had a hammer. And back then, Manny was crazy. He smashed that hammer down on that man’s dick and balls. He was never gonna fuck again, for reals.
“I don’t know if that’s justice. But it’s what we did.”
I’m stunned into silence.
Manny opens the passenger door. “Get out the front, Carlos.”
“I was here first,” says Carlos.
Manny pulls Carlos out of the seat. “Get out, fool!”
Carlos and Blanca get in the back, and Manny gets in the front. Manny is tall—his legs look like they go on for days. He has a full beard. He wears jeans and what looks like a dress shirt. His face seems to have a permanent snarl.
“‘Sup, Manny,” I say. “Blanca tell you what’s going on?”
“Yeah, she explained it,” Manny says. “So let’s go.”
I start driving towards the mountains. “Thank you for helping.”
Manny shrugs. “Blanca told us she needed our help. So we’re here to help.”
“Cool,” I say.
“Yeah,” Manny says. “Because that’s what brothers do.”
41
Mountains
“Hold up, dude,” says Manny. “You don’t know where this Russian gangster lives, and the only clue you got is from that crazy homeless woman who sits outside the 7-Eleven?”
I nod. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Stop the car.”
“Huh?”
