The Son of Every Man

Chapter 6.4

Nightfall was still hours away. Eddie had requested privacy in order to meet with the other men in the house, so Miguel and Gabe reentered the guest barracks. It was unreasonably hot inside. As Miguel sat cross-legged on his cot, contemplating whether or not to apologize yet again—this time for snapping at the kid—a book landed in his lap. It was called The Sun Also Rises and the author was Ernest Hemingway. He looked up. "Is it good?"

"Why don't you find out?"

Miguel hesitated. "Is it literature?"

"Yes," Gabe said, digging through his bag. "I can give you something lighter if you think it will be too dense."

"No," Miguel said quickly. "I like dense."

"Then by all means."

Miguel dressed down to shorts and a sleeveless cotton shirt, flung himself on his back and began to read. He became engrossed, so much so that when Gabe spoke up nearly an hour later, Miguel asked him to repeat what he had said.

"I said I agree with you. About that stain on the wall and floor where that man died."

"Oh." Miguel had all but forgotten. "Thanks. I didn't mean to go off like that in there. Eddie really knows how to get me worked up—sometimes I think he does it on purpose."

"Could be."

"I'm glad you're here."

The kid looked over at him. "There's strength in numbers."

"No, I mean that I'm glad it's you specifically. I feel like I could be around you all the time, and you would hardly ever get on my nerves."

Gabe looked back up at the drooping canvas roof of the tent and smiled. "I seriously doubt that. We don't exactly have the best track record."

"Well, I'm the one who's mostly to blame for it."

"I doubt that, too."

Miguel sat up. "What are you reading?"

"The Great Gatsby. I've read it about a hundred times."

"Really?"

"No. Ten times, though, easy."

"Isn't that the one about all the bored white people and the lady who gets hit by the car?"

He got another smile out of the kid. "That's the one."

Awhile later, Miguel turned and said, "How many books do you think you read in a year?"

"A year? No idea. In a month, maybe ten or fifteen. You can do the math."

"And where does it get you?"

"What?"

"Does it get you anywhere?"

Gabe didn't answer right away. The kid was really putting some thought into it. "It gets me away," he said finally.

"Away from all of this," Miguel said in a slow, wistful voice, gesturing with the book still in hand at the tent's drab interior.

"Pretty much."

Eddie entered the barracks no less than an hour later. The sun hung low in the sky and invaded the tent through the open flap, casting a long, manic shadow of their hulking boss onto the back wall.

"I don't get it," he muttered, keeping his volume closely in check. "We gave them the go-ahead to hire whoever they saw fit. We made a show of trusting them to make a good decision outside of our purview...and this is how it goes down."

Miguel lay the book face down on his sweat-covered chest. "What are you talking about?"

"I wanted to oversee it, but Otero said no," he continued. "I'm sure this isn't what he had in mind. It's not a place for women, and Vernon knows that."

"Hold on," said Miguel. The lecturing voice of Alice, leaning over the bar some rainy night, came suddenly to mind. "Are you saying women shouldn't be free to choose where they work?"

Eddie shook his head. "You don't understand. Those women are not free."

"Oh." He looked down. The significance of the statement came to him gradually. "I guess I wasn't paying attention."

"It wasn't all that clear," muttered Eddie.

It probably had been. Miguel liked to think of himself as highly perceptive in all settings, at all times, but he had a bad habit of skipping over things in plain sight. He turned to Gabe. "Did you know?"

"I had a hunch."

"A hunch," Miguel repeated. The kid had a hunch. He looked back at Eddie. "What are you going to do?"

"There's nothing I can do. Not right away. It's a difficult situation."

"What did Vernon say about it?"

"Nothing. He said they're quick studies with a great work ethic. Muskogee gave me a wink at that point. Vernon saw it and kicked him so hard I thought he was going to cry."

Gabe shook his head, staring down at the open pages of his book.

"They share a room in the house," said Eddie. "The other one is Vernon's."

"I don't like it," said Miguel, trying to catch Gabe's eye. The kid just kept looking blankly down at his book. Miguel suspected that he hadn't read a single word since Eddie came in.

"Help me with this," Eddie said, zipping open a large vent flap in the back wall and rolling it upwards. "This should help cool things off in here." Miguel rolled up his side, keeping it even with Eddie's as they went, then secured it at the top with a metal clip.

Eddie left to make his rounds. Gabe read silently on the cot next to him. Miguel tried to refocus on his book, but his mind insisted on wandering. He turned suddenly to Gabe. "What do you make of all that?"

"Sounds like Eddie has it handled."

"Are you sure about that?"

"No."

Miguel sighed. "Well, don't you think they might be in danger?"

"Yes, but Eddie already says there's nothing he can do right now. I'm sure if he could act immediately, he would. There must be some reason he can't."

Eddie returned after the sun had completely set. Miguel went behind the barracks and brushed his teeth, spitting into the dirt. Ten minutes later, the kid lay still on his cot with his eyes closed and Miguel sat propped on his elbows, watching Eddie search through his bag for something. Finally, he drew out a gun—just like that, a fucking gun—inspected it for a few seconds, then placed it back inside. Miguel had always known, at least in theory, that Eddie carried a gun. A concealed weapon was just another component of the uniform worn by most the higher-ups. Otero sometimes even open-carried one on his belt. But as for Eddie...this was the first visual proof Miguel had ever witnessed. Gunslinging Eddie.

"What was that?" Miguel asked in a low voice.

"A Glock."

"What for?"

"For protection."

"Oh," Miguel said. "Guess that's important out here."

"Not just out here," said Eddie. "Everywhere."

;-;