Tribulations by J. Michael Straczynski

Author:J. Michael Straczynski
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

When Raymond said they wouldn’t be going anyplace fancy, she had assumed they were en route to the nearest Hamburger Hamlet, or another deli. She hadn’t anticipated a drive south into East LA, and a tiny, hole-in-the-wall Chilean restaurant. It was clearly a mom and pop operation, just a few small checkered-cloth tables in a rental space sandwiched between a bail bondsman and a pawnshop.

“You come here a lot?” she asked as they stepped through the door, a small bell announcing their presence. There were no other customers in the place.

“From time to time,” Raymond said. “On special occasions.”

She started to ask what made this a special occasion when the owner of the restaurant and his wife came out of the back, rushing toward Raymond with arms outstretched. The owner was Hector, a large man with a broad, smiling face and a loud voice; his wife Anna was a small, thin woman, more reserved but no less warm in her reception.

When Raymond introduced them he spoke in nearly flawless Spanish. Susan knew a smattering of the language, it was nearly impossible to grow up in Los Angeles without picking it up, but Raymond spoke it with a natural ease.

From the moment of their introduction, everything was a blur of food and music and wine and laughter. The couple was joined by their children, who ranged from about ten to late teens, who wandered in and out of the back room. Plates of home-cooked bread appeared on the table as if by magic, followed by crisp breaded cutlet and shredded beef with onions, peppers and tomato sauce, served alongside steaming bowls of black beans and white rice. Susan could pick up only a little of the exchanges between Raymond and the rest, but there was obvious affection here. They also seemed to be giving him a playful hard time about her presence; she got the impression he didn’t come here with women very often.

When they brought the coffee and flan, Hector pulled Raymond aside and they spoke quietly in another corner of the restaurant. Hector had his hand on Raymond’s shoulder, and his eyes burned with earnestness as he spoke. At one point, Hector pulled a crucifix on a chain out from beneath his shirt, and kissed it.

Susan glanced off to one side, and saw Anna watching the two men talking, her eyes moist. “What are they talking about?” Susan asked.

Anna, she had discovered, knew a little English, not much but more than Hector, enough at least to understand the question. She looked back at Raymond, then at Susan. “Mano de los deos,” she said.

Mano de los Dios? “Hand of God?”

Anna nodded. “Sí. Hand of God.”

And that was all she would say of the conversation.

At the end, Raymond reached for his wallet, but Hector waved off his attempt to pay for the meal. Raymond insisted, still in Spanish. Hector stood his ground. Susan got the impression that this was a common occurrence, one that had assumed a role of tradition between the two men.

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