On the Other Side of the Bridge (15 page)

It wasn't eight o'clock yet, but already they had made a little over two hundred dollars. At this rate, Lonnie thought they would have a pile of money by the end of the day.

Customers continued to arrive. Soon, they had a yard full of people, some buying, but many more just looking around.

At a quarter till nine, Lonnie's grandparents Salinas showed up.

“Looks like you still haven't found a job yet,” Lonnie's grandpa told his son-in-law.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because if you had, you wouldn't need to have a yard sale.”

“I'm just getting rid of some old stuff. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Well, have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Have you found a job?”

Lonnie's dad glared at him. “I'm telling you again, Arthur. That's none of your business. You wanna buy something, fine, but—”

“Arthur!” Lonnie's grandma shrieked. She rushed over, holding a glass bowl. “Do you see what Richard's selling?”

“It's a punch bowl,” Lonnie's dad said. “So what?”

“No, it's not,” she said, flabbergasted. “This is Waterford crystal. We gave it to you and Becky for a wedding present.”

“Okay, so it was a wedding present. But we ain't married no more.”

Lonnie's grandma cradled the bowl in her arms, as if she was holding a baby. “I can't believe you would sell it for fifteen dollars.”

“You think that's too much?” Lonnie's dad asked.

She blinked in disbelief. “Richard, we paid almost five hundred dollars for this bowl.”

“How much do you think I should ask for it then? A hundred?”

“I don't want you to sell it at all,” she said. “If you can't appreciate something this valuable, I want it back.”

“You can't have it back. But I'll sell it to you, if you wanna buy it. For fifteen bucks, like the sticker on the bowl says.”

“Look, Richard,” Lonnie's grandpa started.

“No, you look! I'm tired of you showing up at my house without calling first.”

“We have a right to see Lonnie. You can't stop us from seeing our grandson.”

“I ain't saying you can't see him. I just want you to call to let me know you're coming.”

“Why? Are you hiding something?”

“No, it's just good manners.”

Lonnie's grandpa sneered at him. “And what if we don't call?”

“Then maybe as soon as you show up, me and Lonnie will suddenly have a bunch of errands to run.”

“We only came to invite Lonnie to join us for breakfast,” Lonnie's grandma said, still holding the crystal
bowl tightly against her body. Turning to her grandson, she asked, “How have you been,
mijo
?”

“Real good, Grandma.”

“You look skinny. Are you getting enough to eat?”

“I'm eating fine.”

“
Hmmph
. Junk food,” Lonnie's grandpa said.

“No, really. We hardly ever eat out,” Lonnie told him. “Me and my dad cook just about every night.” Lonnie felt he needed to include his dad, even though he had only prepared dinner once.

“We came to pick you up to take you to Denny's,” his grandpa said.

“I can't,” Lonnie said. “I need to help my dad with the yard sale. Besides, I've already eaten. But thanks anyway.”

A woman with a little boy called Lonnie's dad over because she wanted to pay for three action figures and a pair of wall sconces.

“I'd better use the bathroom before we leave,” Lonnie's grandpa said. He gave his wife an eye signal. “You probably need to go too, don't you?”

“What? Oh, yes. I'd better go.” She handed Lonnie the crystal bowl. “Don't drop it, and don't let anyone buy it.”

While Lonnie's dad was distracted with customers, his in-laws entered the house through the kitchen door.

They both might have had sudden urges to pee, but Lonnie doubted it. More than likely, they had gone inside to snoop around. Luckily, the house was spotless.

A few minutes later, his grandparents walked out, and his grandma took the crystal bowl from Lonnie. “Are you sure you don't want to join us for breakfast?”

“Yeah, I'm sure, Grandma. But thanks for inviting me.”

As they started up the walkway Lonnie's dad hollered at them, “Hey! You didn't pay for that bowl.”

His mother-in-law scowled at him.

“Fifteen bucks,” Lonnie's dad said, holding out his hand.

Lonnie's grandpa drew his wallet from his back pocket, took out a ten and a five and slapped them in his son-in-law's hand. “You happy now?”

“I appreciate your business, Arthur. Y'all have a good day.”

On the way to their car, Lonnie's grandma's heel got caught in a crack on the sidewalk, and she stumbled. Her husband grabbed her by the arm, but as he did, she let go of the crystal bowl and it fell, shattering in pieces.

“Sweet,” Lonnie's dad said, grinning.

At five-thirty, they shut down the yard sale. After putting away everything that didn't sell, they sat on the porch to relax — Lonnie with a Coke and his dad with a beer. Lonnie knew his dad would never stop drinking, but he was glad that he was making a stronger effort to curtail his habit.

They made $476 from the sale. Earlier in the week, Lonnie's dad pawned his wife's gun, as well as their wedding rings, plus a couple of other rings and a necklace. When they added that money to what they had made from the yard sale, Lonnie thought they were in great shape, financially.

He sat back in a lawn chair and enjoyed the cool October air. The trees had begun to turn colors, and some of them had started to lose their leaves. By the end of November, his dad would have him raking them up.

Lonnie had no way of knowing that he would never again rake a single leaf from their yard.

D
ETECTIVE
P
AUL
C
AMPBELL
from the Marsville Homicide Division called Lonnie's dad to notify him that Kevin Williams, the man who murdered his wife, had been killed by his cellmate. They had gotten into an argument, and the cellmate slammed Kevin Williams' head against the wall, causing him to die from blunt force trauma.

“Well, at least we won't have to deal with a trial and go through the whole thing again,” Lonnie's dad mused. “I guess that's what you call poetic justice.”

Justice? Lonnie hadn't been looking forward to the trial, but he wanted to stare at Kevin Williams' eyes when the prosecutors took him apart. He wanted to hear him say he was sorry for what he had done and apologize to them. That wouldn't happen now. Kevin Williams was dead, but not for the crime he had committed. As far as Lonnie was concerned, his death wasn't punishment enough.

They celebrated Thanksgiving in Abilene, at Lonnie's grandparents Rodríguez's house, the first time they had done so. Ever since his dad stormed out, years ago, and moved to Marsville, his relationship with his parents had been strained.

If any ill feelings existed between them, no one showed it. Lonnie's grandparents graciously welcomed
them into their home. Already, the house was filled with relatives, most of whom Lonnie had never seen before.

The air inside was rich with delicious aromas of meats, vegetables, breads and desserts. Every inch of counter space in the kitchen had been taken up with covered dishes. Pots warmed on the stove, and a turkey heated in the oven.

After greeting everyone, Lonnie and his dad joined a group of family members in the den to watch a football game between the Detroit Lions and the Green Bay Packers.

Lonnie looked out the sliding glass door and saw his cousin Enrique tossing a football with another cousin, Julián, in the back yard, so he went outside.

The moment he stepped onto the porch, Enrique threw the ball to him in a fast, tight spiral. “Catch it, Lonnie!”

Though taken by surprise, Lonnie raised his hands and caught the ball with ease. He threw it to Julián, who dropped it, but quickly picked it up and flung it to Enrique.

They continued playing catch, until a teen-aged girl appeared on the porch.

“Whoa, who's that babe?” Lonnie asked Julián

“Put your tongue back in your mouth,
primo
,” he said. “That's Rita. She's your cousin.”

“My cousin?” Lonnie said, embarrassed.

Julián laughed. “That's the thing about living in Abilene,
primo
. The Rodríguezes are spread all over town, so you've got to be real careful who you hit on, 'cause she could turn out to be a relative. Come on, I'll introduce you to her.”

It dawned on Lonnie that Rita was his aunt Lydia's daughter. He hadn't seen her since they were little kids.

“Rita, say hi to Lon Chaney, your
primo
from Marsville,” Julián said.

She giggled. “Lon Chaney? Are you serious? Who are your brothers? Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi?”

“Just call me Lonnie,” he said.

“Lonnie?” Rita gave a start of surprise. “Oh, my
gatos
! You're Tío Richard's son, right? The one who's mom …” She reached up and hugged him. “I'm sorry I didn't recognize you. It's been a long time.”

“I guess you weren't at the funeral then?”

“No, my mom couldn't take off from work. How are you doing? I mean, with everything that's happened?”

“I have my good days and bad days,” Lonnie said with a shrug.

“How long are you going to be in Abilene?”

“Until Sunday, I think. We're staying here with my grandparents.”

“Cool,” Enrique said. “Maybe we can do some stuff while you're in town.”

“What stuff?” Julián asked. “There's nothing to do in Abilene, except to watch the tumbleweeds roll by.”

“Don't listen to him,” Rita said. “There are lots of things to do.”

“Name one,” Julián said.

“Well, there's the Mall of Abilene. We can go there.”

“Trust me,
primo
,” Julián said. “Watching the tumbleweeds roll by is more exciting than hanging out at the Mall of Abilene.”

“What grade are you in?” Rita asked.

Lonnie held up seven fingers. “Seventh.”

“Me, too. So are Henry K and Julián.”

“Who's Henry K?” Lonnie asked.

“That's what we call Enrique,” Rita said. “It's an old joke. When he was in the first grade, he had this teacher … what was her name?”

“Mrs. Culpepper,” Enrique answered with a smile, knowing what was coming next.

“That's right. Anyway, Mrs. Culpepper was a southern-belle type with a thick
suthen
accent. Whenever she said Enrique's name, it came out as En-ree-kay, and I thought she was calling him Henry K. So the name stuck, and now he's Henry K.”

“Do you guys spend a lot of time together?” Lonnie asked, thinking about how much fun it would be to hang out with them.

“I'd say so,” Rita replied, looking at her cousins for confirmation. “The three of us go to Red Adair Middle School. Henry K's on the football team.”

“Yeah, he told me. Do you play football, too?” Lonnie asked Julián.

“Are you kidding?” Henry K said. “Rita plays better football than him. Watch. Rita, go long.”

She took off running, her pony tail bobbing on her back. Henry K threw a bomb, high in the air. Rita looked up over her right shoulder, reached for the ball and brought it in. Lonnie gawked in amazement at how athletic she was. He didn't know if he could have caught that pass.

“Go for it, Henry K!” Rita shouted, throwing the ball back to him. He caught it, then tossed it to Lonnie.

The four of them took a corner of the yard and threw passes to each other. Henry K was right about Julián, though. Rita was a much better player than he was. Half the time, he dropped the ball.

“You know, if you lived here, you could go to school with us,” Rita told Lonnie after a while.

Henry K cracked a smile. “Yeah, and if you're real lucky, you could have Mr. Tovar for math. Hey, you kids …” he started, then the three of them chimed in together, “Get off da lockers!” and hooted with laughter.

“What does that mean?” Lonnie asked.

Rita caught her breath. “Nothing. It's just something stupid we say.”

“No, it's something stupid Mr. Tovar says,” Henry K said. “We just repeat it.”

“I think it'd be cool going to school with you guys,” Lonnie told them.

“Believe me,
primo
,” Julián said. “You do not want to live in Abilene. Man, I'd do anything to move out of here.”

“I don't know about that. I kind of like Abilene,” Lonnie said, although moving here was unlikely. His dad had been estranged from his family for years. The only reason they were in town was because they had nowhere else to celebrate Thanksgiving.

Tía Lydia came out to announce that lunch was ready. After they washed up, Lonnie and his cousins joined the rest of the family around the table, and everyone held hands.