The Jew of Home Depot and Other Stories by Max Apple

Author:Max Apple
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Johns Hopkins University Press
Published: 2007-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

House of the Lowered

AS SOON as he heard that Carlos was coming to visit him before the 92nd shipped out to Iraq, Elario decided to throw a party. “Barbecue, mariachi, the works,” he said. “The marine is landing in Houston.” Though he rarely saw his son, Elario talked about him a lot. “Carlos always knew he had a father,” he told me, “it wasn’t much, sometimes maybe ten dollars a month, but every day of his life that boy knew he had a father who sent money.”

I had to hand it to Elario, he’d come a long way. Two years ago, when he asked for credit, I didn’t even know his name, but I recognized him because he’d been coming in for a few weeks to window shop double quad speakers.

“Mr. Aaron,” he said, “el diablo needs sound, some blocks, and a skirt.”

“You’re talking close to a thousand,” I said.

“I’m gonna give you this,” he said, “for collateral.”

He put into my hand a head shot of a teenage boy in a little frame that he pulled right off his keychain.

“Is this an antique or something?” I asked.

“That’s Carlos,” he said, “he’s on the track team at San Antonio Union.” I looked at it and I thought, this guy is not a good credit risk.

“Every weekend I’ll work the money off,” he said, “trees, lawns, plumbing, whatever you need.”

I did have a lot of yard work so even though I knew better, I jacked up the price by 25 percent and gave him the credit. The next Saturday Elario showed up at my house in a ’57 Chevy that I didn’t think would ever make it out of the driveway. He’d lowered that Bel-Air coupe to maybe three inches over the road.

“You’re risking your chrome on every pothole,” I warned him.

“You’re right,” he said, “but what can I do? The snake loves it.” He pointed to the reptile on his left arm. I saw that particular tattoo on lots of gang members and in various colors. Elario had the long model, shoulder all the way to his wrist with the snake’s head on the back of his hand. “Who’s running the show?” I asked him, “you or the snake?” He laughed about that the whole time he worked on my flowerbeds.

In a hundred years I would never have thought that someone like Elario would end up in the store, but when I put out the Help Wanted sign he had already worked off his credit so I gave him a shot at the job. Maybe he has cost me a few sales because of those gold chains and his partly chewed off ear, but most of our customers come from the barrio, and, like I told him, I believe that by all rights Houston should still be part of Mexico.

He disagreed. The Mexican cops were worse, he said. Everyone was on the take and the judges were all whores. At least in Houston after a few days you could make a decent bail arrangement.

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