Dinner for Two

By David Reed


"Drink deeply this poison that is life. Drink as if your life depends upon it -- and it does."
-- Pindar the Elder, Athens 323 BC.


Chapter 1: King of Garbage

James shook at the sight. The first summer dress sighting. He almost swallowed his baloney sandwich whole. Were those tanned legs peeking out from beneath that daring hemline? The weather report said it was only an early spring thaw. Summer couldn't come fast enough based on the condition of those legs.
He studied his half-eaten sandwich. Would a girl like that date a man who worked construction and ate baloney sandwiches? He puzzled on this thought. "Why not?" he said to himself finally. The reasons he had for choosing baloney were reasons any woman worth keeping would appreciate. He ate baloney because it was cheap, easy to prepare and tasty. Why would a woman appreciate this? Because this freed up time, energy and money -- all of which he could splurge on her when the time came.
His boss, Jeff, had offered some advice on attracting ladies.
"For one thing, James," he had said, "you are sleeping on camping equipment."
James tried to explain that his Thermarest brand air mattress had the functional thickness of a full mattress. Jeff scoffed at this and explained, in his know-it-all way, how beds are about more than thickness but also about being able to pop out of bed when you have to piss at night without crawling on the floor and grunting to an upright position.
"Plus," said Jeff, "I'm paying you enough to allow you to buy a real bed. And what if you succeed in getting a woman in your bedroom? You gonna do her on your Dermarest?"
"Thermarest," he corrected. Yes, Jeff could “do her” on his Thermarest just fine, thank you very much. Though, he had to admit to himself, that if she were to stay over one of them would end up sleeping on the bare floor.
It occurred to James at that moment, that accepting advice on dating from a handsome guy like Jeff was roughly equivalent to accepting financial advice from someone who had inherited a fortune - neither had to work to excel in their area of speciality.
Unlike his ruggedly handsome boss, James intuited that a good woman could find his decidedly bachelor surroundings to be energizing. All his junk may very well activate her domestic instinct and cause her to zip about putting her proverbial woman's touch on everything. Average guys needed to think like women -- unlike men with jaws so thick you could pound nails with them.
James accepted his better's advice with docility. He was in the dog house having put his boot through a window on their latest housing project. He had been demoted from Sheetrock hanger down to garbage wrangler. This meant he had to go on beverage runs and take advice from everyone.
Only his Mexican co-workers continued to treat him with respect. One more mistake and his pay would be cut. Another mistake and he would be would be without a job. The Mexicans understood his tenuous position. If they lost their job they would also lose their work visa. At least he would be able to stay in the United States.
James was not worried about screwing up again. He was already the bottom of the bottom -- lower than a squirrel's ass. All he had to do was put trash in a bin. It wasn't like he was going to lose his ability to identify garbage and then lose his capacity to lob said garbage into said bin. How could he fail?
He would find out.

Chapter 2: Summer Arrives


The subdivision was finished. James hadn't kicked in any more windows and he had managed to keep the lots conspicuously trash free. Unemployment might be ugly but it was the kind of ugly that scared him into being a good worker. He also learned to pass the time by learning the work songs of his Mexican colleagues. They were masters of passing the time with hard work and traditional music. They chortled at his lame pronunciation as he sang along but he felt they respected how he honored their ways.
He had the rest of July off. This meant no pay but no backbreaking toil also. Thankfully, he had saved enough money to attempt some dating or maybe even some travel. He considered making the trip south to Tijuana with his friend Troy, but Troy always wanted to watch the disgusting donkey shows. He just wanted to find a mamacita caliente and drink mimosas with her.
So Tijuana was off. What else could James do during his break? One of the Mexican roofers, Jorge, invited him to his hacienda for a "barbacoa" and to meet his beautiful cousin, Esperanza. He agreed despite his reservations.
Esperanza was beautiful as foretold. They drank tequilas on the back porch serenaded by mariachi music as they circumvented the language barrier. It occurred to him that he had been selected to marry pretty Esperanza and give her a U.S. citizenship. At first he wasn't crazy about this but the tequila was working. Providing a place in America for this beauty was sounding better all the time. He sipped his tequila and dreamed of happy times in the not too distant future.
James got her number from Jorge and ended up picking Esperanza up for dinner the following Friday night. He wanted to impress her with his diverse palette but he ended up taking her to the Red Iguana for Mexican food. She wasn't too impressed with her food. She just kind of picked at it with her fork. The din of the crowd complicated matters as they strived to communicate. He was pleased that she laughed at his jokes though she probably understood only half of them.
He thought about getting lucky with her on the way home. He kept trying to formulate a plan to invite her to his house in Spanish. He got halfway to his house but ended up taking her home. They were finished by ten.
Except they weren't.
To his delight, she offered to have him come up and listen to some traditional music. He was delighted and intrigued. He followed her up watching her hips sway. Once inside, she turned on the music and summoned him to dance with her eyes and swaying hips. He required no further encouragement. It would be a night to remember.
He sat up late not able to sleep. In her bed, he watched how the curve of her hip caught the moonlight. All their lovemaking had got him thinking about the future. A future with Esperanza - with little niños y niñas - was formulating a picture in his mind. It was a picture that he liked. He almost shook Esperanza to share his plans but kept watching the moonlight play on her hip.


Chapter 3: The Reckoning
He
It was early August and he was back to work on a new housing project in Rancho fucking Cucamonga out in San Bernardino county. As he had hoped, he was no longer the garbage wrangler and was back hanging drywall. It was almost worth driving all the way out to the job site to not have to pick up trash all day in the hot sun. He was happy as can be swinging a hammer and annoying his Gringo coworkers with his traditional Mexican work songs. They cranked up the boombox to drown him out but he just kept on singing. Life was good.
One day, about a week into the job, he heard a pickup truck pull up, a door slam and some shouting. He looked out the window and saw a large man gesturing to his boss and screaming in broken English. His heart skipped a beat when he heard the stranger shout his name. James weighed the risks and decided it would be safer to stay hidden in the house. By now the boss had probably told the man he wasn't there anyway. However, curiosity got the better of him and he found himself approaching the stranger on rubber legs.
The Mexican Hulk eyed him carefully as he approached.
“You James?” he asked.
James nodded.
“You know Esperanza Gomez?”
“I do,” he managed to say. This man had driven all this way to discuss Esperanza?
“You fuck her?”
James stood still. He watched veins pop out of his neck. James would not survive a fight with this man.
“Stay away from her okay, cabron? She’s mine,” he said and he turned to walk back to his truck.
Then James decided to do something stupid. “That’s not the impression I got, a-amigo.”
The man stopped and turned to face James. “What did you say?” he said lifting a taunting eyebrow. Something told him this man had never heard such lip in his life.
James gulped and somehow doubled down on stupid. “The other night. It didn't seem like she belonged to anyone else.”
The man’s face melted into rage. Then his eyes scanned the worksite as if calculating the odds of fighting everyone there; his lips counting the number of men as if he had a chance against all of them.
Then he flashed a handsome grin. “I like you, Gringo,” he finally said. “Just stay away, comprende?” He got into his truck and zoomed away in a cloud of dust.
As he walked back to work, James thought about the danger he now was in. Whatever the danger, he would find a way to handle it. He hadn't realized it till then, but he was in love. The kind of love worth fighting a man like that -- a man who just considered kicking the ass of every man on the job site. He thanked the man in his heart for showing how much she meant to him. Danger or no danger he was in. All in.


Chapter 4: Javier


Javier prided himself on two things: performing an honest day’s work for an honest day's pay and being able to kick ass of anyone north of the border. He could have kicked the ass of everyone on that construction site. They would try to surround him but he would have sent them all to the hospital. He had done it before.
He had lived in California for less than three years and he already owned his own masonry company hiring no one but his own kind. After all, Mexicans know how to work. Mexico is the Saudi Arabia of good old-fashioned hard work. Any hombre not pulling his share could saddle up the donkey he rode in on and head for the border. Javier tolerated no weakness in any form.
The situation with James was troubling. Never had a woman gone traitor on him. Why would she sleep with that pale cabron when she had Javier, the real item? He was frustrated. He could take James to the Mojave desert and bury him alive, but that would not be sportsmanlike. He needed to win the heart of Esperanza fair and square. So killing El Gringo, however tempting, was off the table for now. He needed a legal plan to win the lovely heart of Esperanza.


Chapter 4: Esmeralda


Esmeralda too was in love. She pined away for her elicit Latin lover Javier Garcia Garcia Manuel Martinez. Oh, how she loved to say his name. How it rolled off her parched tongue.
Would Javier visit her tonight? It was frustrating for her to play the older back burner woman. She lived next to the beautiful siren Latina Esmeralda. Her beauty was beyond all reason. Naturally, a steady stream of suitors knocked on her door at hours of the night and day, including her angel, Javier. Though it broke her heart, how could he blame her? Her main man seemed to be young Anglo named James. She knew his name because she cried it out during their intense lovemaking.
She used to cry out Javier too but that had petered in recent weeks much too her joy. The routine was like this. Javier knocks on her door, they fight, Javier comes over and knocks on her door and he sits on her couch and moans about his love life while playing with her exposed breasts.
She had got him to suck on her nipples but he wasn't interested in going farther than that. Judging by his tight pants, she could tell he wanted more. She had never got him to go beyond boobs. No kidding, no fucking -- just boobs. No kisses even.
So that was the routine; wait for a the fighting, unbutton her blouse and wait for her boobs to be tickled by his glorious mustache.


Chapter 5: James and Esperanza


When he picked her up for their Friday night dinner date at the Red Iguana, he thought about bringing up the confrontation with Javier at the work site. He decided against it. He hoped Javier was fading from her life and he was not going to bring him back to the center of things.
As he picked at his chili verde burritos, he talked about work but kept Javier out of things. He wondered if she new about the confrontation two days earlier. Then she spoke and brought Javier back into the picture.
“James?” she said. He looked up from his burrito. “Have you had occasion to meet my ex-boyfriend, Javier Gutierrez?”
James nodded.
“I was afraid of this.” She looked really worried.
“Why?” James said.
“He’s a dangerous man, James. H-he’s a monster. Don't confront him. Ever.”
James couldn't think of anyone he would like to confront less.
“Why? What's up?” James asked.
Esperanza looked pensively out the window.
“We had a bad breakup. It was awful. He isn't done with me yet. It's like I'm his personal property. I would feel terrible if something happened to you because of this.”
James told him about the incident at work.
“I worried something like this would happen.”
“I've been wondering. How in the world did he find my work site?”
“Oh, James. He’s crazy smart. I thought of moving to avoid him but it's of no use. I could move to the bottom of the ocean and he would still manage to find me.”
She reached over and touched his hand. Don't confront him. He is dangerous. He’s an absolute monster. You have no idea. He wears a necklace made of skull fragments. He told me it was made of raccoon fragments, but I know the truth. All of his victims end up with bashed-in heads. Those fragments are made of human skull pieces.
James blanched at this. He was enemies with a vicious murderer. How had he gotten into this mess?
“I’ll never be safe until he goes to prison permanently. The problem is: the kind that Javier kills are not the kind the police are likely to look for. These men are people the police would like to see dead. Javier is too smart to leave behind any clues. He’s smarter than the entire Los Angeles police force.”
James shook his head in disbelief. He was the sworn enemy of the smartest killer in Los Angeles.
“We need to give the police some evidence,” James said.
“What do you mean?”
“No matter who is victims have been, sooner or later he is going to kill a regular person like me. Someone with standing in the community.”
“What can we do?” she asked.
“Well there's nothing i can do. Nothing I can think of anyway. Try asking him about his exploits.”
“His murders you mean?”
“Right,” James said.
“Maybe I could do that.”
“Good. Don't focus on the murders though. You don't want him to suspect anything.”
“Okay,” she said. “I know how to go about this.”
“You do?”
“Sure. Men love to brag. I’ll just ask him about his, uh, jobs and let him gush out the details. He’ll never suspect that I’m onto him.
“You can do that?”
“Yep. Men love to brag. Remember how you told me how many drywall panels you can hang in an hour? Like that.” She folded her napkin and looked very pleased with herself. James was looking at a woman who was as brave as she was beautiful. If they got through this alive the would be amazing partners and lovers. Forever.


Chapter 6: the death plan


The longer Javier thought about it, the more a simple truth presented itself: James must die. And die in the most horrible way imaginable. Then Esperanza would be his again. Simple.
This presented new territory for immigrants didn't have identities and had no real standing in the community. He needed to be careful. He might need to call in a few favors rather than kicking his head in by himself. Trouble is, he didn't know anyone strong or fast enough to kick someone‘s head in like he could. Only his spinning axe kick could properly do the trick. This move was fast becoming legendary in the valley. Even the most hardened, well-armed hombre would turn tail and run when they saw him assume his trademark karate stance. He had even stopped carrying weapons. His patented kick was instant death.
So James needed to die. That much was settled in his mind. One caveat occurred to him. He needed to have an alibi. Not for the police, but for Esperanza. She would never forgive him if she knew he had done the deed. So he would need to be clever. This murder required some planning. Esperanza would soon be his again. This made him smile. He took off his necklace and examined it. He saw the perfect place for James’ skull fragment. Perfect. He smiled. He had a plan.


Chapter 7: James


Unbeknownst to Javier, James was no shrinking violet. Despite his humble demeanor, James had scores of trophies from his tournament days. James had a Third Dan black belt in taekwondo. He had been terrorizing full-contact tournaments for years.
Esperanza had told him about Javier’s lethal spin kick. This would be his strategy: to match his fighting skill against his enemy’s. James wished he knew some lethal kicks. The best he could do would be to kick him in the temple with a spinning heel. Then he would have to choke him until dead. The best result would be for him to knock Javier unconscious and call the police.
Another option had occurred to him: simply don't fight. This was no organized tournament; no judge would intervene if things got out of hand. Plus, a fight to the death seemed so pointless. He didn't want a man’s death on his conscience.
He could bring a gun. Since Javier was intent on killing him, it could be considered self defense. This was doubtful. He knew that drawing a gun in a fight was illegal. And shooting an unarmed man - even a killer like Javier - would get him arrested for murder.
If he was going to shoot Javier he should hunt him down under the cover of darkness and hope the police didn't try to find the killer of a an immigrant-murderer. He puzzled on this. It had possibilities. Then he shook his head. He reminded himself what Esperanza had said about him being able to find her on the bottom of the ocean. Also, Javier had also been able to track down his job site with no apparent effort.
He was too smart; too street-experienced. With all the enemies he had developed over the years he probably had eyes in the back of his head. What if he turned the tables on him by catching him out of his element? He could hide at Esperanza’s house and then blow his brains out when he least expected it. With his instincts, he might never catch Javier off guard, but right then it sounded a lot better than going to to toe against the man.
He couldn't believe he was planning to kill a man. Desperate times. He would do it for her, for them. As long as a man like Javier was in Esperanza’s life, she would never be safe. He would do it for their future niños y niños. To paraphrase Metallica, nothing else mattered.


Chapter 8: Sergeant Baker


The rumor had been circulating for weeks. Someone in the valley known as “Lone Wolf” had been killing immigrants by kicking them in the head. This suspect was known to have a necklace studded with his victims’ skull fragments. Sergeant Baker shook his head. He thought he had heard of heard everything.
As long as he was killing immigrants he would be tough to identify. He hated to admit it, but Javier needed to kill a U.S. citizen or the case would turn cold. He shook his head again. He was getting too old for this shit.
The case had gotten little traction with headquarters at LAPD homicide. Sergeant Baker had became the default expert in the case because no one else cared about the it. This was all to the good. He had been itching to get out on the street and chase bandits and ditch his boring desk job and get out on the street and chase bandits.
One problem is that no one believed that a kick would kill a man. It was like something out of a Bruce Lee movie. Every forensics expert assured him: no one ever died from a single kick. Impossible. If the victim were lying down he could be “curb stomped” until dead but that did not fit the “M.O.” for this killer. Only a handful of street contacts had seen it happen. All the expert concluded it was blunt-force trauma and not from kicking. The Sergeant was getting nowhere if he didn't make progress shortly, he would back humping a desk at again. The chief was breathing down his neck.
He did have one lead: a girlfriend. One Esperanza Gomez on Grape Street.


Chapter 9: the Girl and the Sergeant


When the sergeant came knocking, Esperanza was boiling water for coffee in her bath robe getting ready for work. Esperanza let him in.
“Coffee?” she asked.
The sergeant nodded and took his place at the breakfast nook. She brought him coffee with creamer and a muffin.
“What can I do for you, officer?”
“I’m looking for a suspect known as ‘Lone Wolf.’ A contact said you two are friendly like lovers maybe.”
She nodded.
“So you do know him.” He took a sip of his coffee.
“I know him.”
“What can you tell me about him?”
“That he's a murderer that must be stopped.”
The sergeant took out his pad and paper and began taking notes.
“Whatever number you think he's killed. Double it. Triple it. He’s got to be stopped.”
“His name, ma’am?”
“Javier. Javier Gutierrez.”
Do you know of his residence or whereabouts?
She shook her head. “Javier keeps moving. I don't know where he lives. “
“So he visits you here?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
The officer took another toasty sip. “And when does he visit you here?”
“Tuesday night. Monday or Tuesday night.”
“Do you expect him this Monday or Tuesday?”
She nodded.
“Perfect,” he said. But then he furrowed his brow and shook his head.
“What is it, officer?”
“We don't have much to go on at this point. Would you be willing to wear a wire?”


Chapter 10: Esperanza y Esmeralda


There it was. Like clockwork, the Monday night quarreling in the apartment. Esmerelda had grown to depend on it. Her nipples tingled as if on cue. Javier would soon be over to supply his mammarian administrations.
This night was sounding different. The shouting was escalating and Javier was sounding dangerous. She pressed her ear against the adjoining wall.
“The police know about you,” said Esperanza.
"No es posible."
"Si posible. Es verdad!”
“The dumbfuck cops can't find their asses with both hands. They know nothing.”
“I told them.”
“Puta!”
Why was Esperanza pressing him? She knew better than to ask him about his business. Esmeralda couldn't know that Esperanza was trying to get his confession on tape for the police. Javier would not be visiting her tonight. Also, Esperanza was in real trouble. She had to do something. Call the cops? No time for that. She looked around her living room. She had an idea.
Javier’s face was a deep red. He normally looked that way after a heavy bout of drinking. Esperanza had never seen him so angry. Then the door opened behind him. It was the last thing she could have expected. It was Esmeralda creeping across the room brandishing a fireplace poker.
Javier never saw it coming. “WHACK!” Esmeralda swung the poker like a big leaguer, connecting with the side of his head. Javier whelped like a hurt puppy and sank to his knees. Again: “WHACK!” Now He was face down and motionless. Out cold.
“Dios mio, is he dead?"
Esperanza studied his inert form and could see the wrinkles shifting on his jacket.
"No. He's breathing," she said reaching for her phone. She is dialed 911 and waited for the dispatcher. “Hello? This is Esperanza Gomez. I have been working with the police. Yes. With Officer Baker. I have the murder suspect unconscious in my living room. His name is Javier Gutierrez. Officer Baker knows all about him. Yes. I will." She hung up and opened the window overlooking the street to listen for police sirens.
Esmeralda was giddy with adrenaline. Her whole body shook as she stood vigil over his prone body. She knew this would be the end of her boob caresses. Soon Javier would be safely locked away far away from female breasts. Served him right. Her Romeo had turned out to be a criminal. She wouldn't stand for that. She was glad they never went all the way and done the deed.
"Come on, you filthy punk," she said, daring him to make a move.
"It's OK, Esmeralda. You got him. The police are on their way."


Sirens. Soon the police were crowding the living room and lifting Javier's massive body off the floor. Four officers grabbed each of his limbs and carried him out the doorway.
As they were leaving, Esmeralda thought she saw one of Javier's eyes flick open. Was he awake?
She called down the stairs. "You better hand cuff him, officers."
"We've got it. Thank you, ma'am," said one of the officers.
Then she heard the men shouting and Javier yelling. Esmeralda and Esperanza dashed to the window. Javier was running like hell across the parking lot into the darkness beyond. Esperanza shrieked in horror and Esmeralda shook her head in disbelief. They were both thinking the same thing: how could an injured man escape while being carried by four armed and trained men?
Esmeralda knew the answer: Javier was the devil himself.


Chapter 11: James v. James


James completed his morning workout and sat down for a boiled egg and coffee. His strict diet was paying dividends: almost fifteen pounds of useless fat down the drain. And that included the muscle mass he had gained.
Yet something had shifted. His heart had not been in his workout that morning. He wasn't throwing open the windows glazed with sweat as per usual. The night before, he had determined that his best friend was not a spinning heel kick but a loaded weapon. A gun would leave nothing to chance. The man who freed himself from four armed cops would not lose a fight with James.
He had a new plan congealing in his mind: When Javier came over to Esperanza's apartment, he would be hiding. When Javier arrived he would text Officer Baker who would hurry over with sirens on mute and make the arrest. Unbeknownst to Officer Baker, he would be the backup plan. The police had fucked up once before. He couldn't count on their expertise.
When he sprang out of the closet, Esperanza would hit the deck and he would fill the man with hot lead. He had never fired a weapon before but he had time to practice. With such a small area like Esperanza's living room to work with, he should be able to fire with accuracy.
The previous night he had done some rehearsing. He practiced jumping out of his closet armed with a loaded banana in place of a gun. He did that twice and felt embarrassed. Like he was auditioning for a 70's police procedural.
He spent the rest of the evening looking at firearm training videos on YouTube. He didn't learn much except that lots of American men think Uncle Sam is coming to take their guns away. He figured if he could learn how these men hoped to repel Seal Team Six he would be able to handle Javier. In the end he decided these men had issues with their penises and had never faced an armed intruder. He turned off the computer and went to bed.
James took a long, cool shower feeling more and more satisfied with his decision. He turned off the water and went to the sink to shave. Having taken a cool shower, he wouldn't need to towel the steam from the mirror. For the first time he could remember, he could see his face clearly in the morning light.
Something had gone wrong. Something was shifting within him. The evidence was in his eyes. His eyes had taken a turn for the murderous. Yes, he was planning on taking down a killer, but it was a human being who had yet to see his day in court. Were the roles reversed, Javier wouldn't give two shakes about taking his life -- in fact he intended to do precisely that. So why should he hesitate?
Because his life wasn't worth defending if it wasn't worth anything. Shooting a man - any man - in the back was disgusting. It would devalue him in a way that would prevent him from looking Esperanza in the eyes.
There was another problem, and the very thought of it filled him with dread: the other reason he couldn't bring himself to kill Javier was that he was - dare he admit it - somehow wildly beautiful. That handsome grin he threw him at the job site was terrifying but somehow appealing. He wanted to run away and after him at the same time. It was a million miles different from Esperanza's tender smile but somehow vexed him in the same way.
What was going on? That smile. He had seen it before. He sat on his bed and let his imagination transport him back 22 years to his senior year at North Hollywood High. He had spotted his best friend, Eric, standing in the hallway between classes. Then something awful happened. Out of nowhere, Brad, captain of the football team, spun toward Eric and landed his elbow into Eric's temple. Eric was stunned by the blow but managed to raise a pair of shaky fists to attempt a defense. He got in a couple shots in but Brad took him apart. Eric's face became a swollen, pink mass until Mister Mayfield broke it up and escorted them both to the principal's office.
What had brought this 22-year-old memory to mind? He didn't know. Something about a handsome man, his friend Eric, being beat to a pulp by an uncaring bully. Was Eric Esperanza in his mind: someone beautiful he needed to protect? Was Eric himself: standing up to a mean-spirited opponent?
Something was missing. He lie prostrate on his bed, late for work but needing to sort out this bevy of emotions. If he wasn't a killer, then what he? He wasn't going to walk out that door until he knew who he was and what was his role to play. Work be damned.
What differentiated him from Javier? On one level this was easy: Javier was a cold-blooded killer; he was not. They had some in common too. Both were advanced practitioners of the martial arts; both sought the love of lovely Esperanza.
He thought about how he reacted to Javier’s handsome smile and how it reminded him of poor Eric in happier times. What kind of man daydreamed about the smile of other men? A gay one? Yes. But was he gay? No. His desire for Esperanza proved that he was not.
What else could he be? Bisexual? Was that a thing? Could a real man be attracted to another man? In his case it would explain a lot. Even if it wasn't a “thing,” it described him. Perhaps, it even defined him.
If Esperanza knew about his bisexuality would she leave him? No. He could depend on that. What if poor Eric had known? Would he have submitted him to scorn and outed him in front of the senior class? Maybe.
What if Javier knew? Would he be able to use his feminine side against him to gain the upper hand and destroy him? No way to know until the time came. Besides, what did that even mean?
Then he thought some more. The hour was getting late and sunlight was blazing through his bedroom window. His boss would be furious by now. But he wasn't done. Sunlight was streaming into his very soul.
What if his bisexuality wasn't a hindrance against Javier; what if it was an advantage. One thing he was sure of: being open about himself was a strength. His father had taught him that. He was stronger acknowledging his whole self. Further it gave him depth of character; nuance of soul.
So much for the self-therapy. How could it save his life in his quest against Javier? Well he was a good, honest person. That wouldn't hurt. But, how could his sexuality assist him?
Javier was the quintessence of Mexican machismo. The prototypical male. A natural leader, a woman slayer and fighter. Yet James could see this raging male heart of his might be limiting him in a crucial way.
His bisexuality didn't make him feminine. That was not the advantage he was seeking. What it did was give him access to his entire person. The masculine and feminine energies; the whole yin and yang. It was coming together like a bolt of lightning.
How could this be used against Javier? He wasn't sure, but he had never felt so determined and confident in his life; he had never felt so worthy of a good woman's love. His plan was settling in his mind, while he tugged on his work trousers: no closet antics using a banana, no guns and no cops. Just he and Javier mano a mano.
One thing he knew for sure: he wouldn't trade places with Javier for all the beans in Mexico.


Chapter 12: The Fight


A lieutenant of Javier’s delivered the message to his job site: the fight was scheduled at an abandoned warehouse in Chatsworth. Esperanza urged him not to go, but the fight was on. Esperanza called Sergeant Baker and told him the details. James shook his head: that old cop would just foul things up.
James trained like mad. He called in sick twice in order to hone his craft. He studied Jeet Kune Do instructional videos -- the martial art created created by Bruce Lee. He felt strong and fast enough to take on Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris at the same time. Yet somehow the figure of Javier loomed heavy in his mind, as if he were the greatest opponent imaginable. Surely he was over-training. He was in far better shape than he was in 2002, when he had gone undefeated in every full-contact tournament that season. Javier should be the scared one.
Surely he was faster than Javier. Theoretically, he could keep his distance and wait for Javier to lose his breath. Then he would move in for the kill, picking him apart. Yet, he couldn't count on his speed to be an advantage though. Javier was too smart to chase him around the warehouse. Javier's brain would be more than a match for his speed and conditioning. Plus he was young, strong and probably kicked like a donkey. It was important not to be overconfident. Also, he must avoid Javier's eyes. He would focus on his torso as sensei had taught him. They were fearsome to say the least.


James drove to the warehouse with Esperanza and Esmeralda that night just before sunset. The warehouse was almost empty when they got there. No doubt Javier would make a dramatic entrance at the last minute.
James took the extra time to practice and stretch. Esperanza wondered where he had gotten his fighting suit. He was decked out in pink, lavender and blue. What did it mean? Was he trying to mock his opponent with the feminine colors? She hoped Officer Baker would arrive before the senseless brutality commenced.
As predicted, Javier showed up with his entourage at the last minute. In his robe and sunglasses he looked like a heavyweight prize fighter. James knew he should be intimidated but he wasn't.
However, he did gulp when he doffed his robe. He had never seen Javier shirtless before. He was ripped beyond all reason. Hopefully his speed and dexterity would outflank his opponent’s brute strength. Otherwise this fight would be over quick.
A man in a black suit stepped into the middle of the floor and introduced the opponents. He pointed to James. “In this corner, with 23 wins at the tournament level, “Jaaaaames the six pack Joooohnson.” James didn't know who the announcer was. He wondered where he had gotten his tournament record. Also, his last name wasn't Johnson.
“And in this corner we have Javier the Crippler Gutierrez. With no losses and fourteen fatalities.” Applause erupted from that end of the floor. The announcer continued: “This fight has only one round. The fight last till one man submits or cannot continue. There will be no stoppages and no standing eight count. May the best man win.”
Javier strode in the ring, ready to fight. James met him in the center of of the floor. They touched bare fists. The fight had begun.
James thought he would be able to gauge Javier's vulnerabilities with the first minute. He was a little rusty, but he usually could quickly discern his opponent’s strengths and weaknesses early on.
He was surprised how aggressive and unbalanced Javier was. He kept leaning over to throw his right cross. It was a sloppy technique that James saw coming a mile away. So far, James dodged everything with ease.
James decided he had a solid understanding of Javie’s bag of tricks. It was his turn to go on offense. He managed to slide in his patented front kick. He pulled back his toes so the balls of his foot made purchase with Javier's rib cage. It made maximum impact but had no effect on his opponent. Javier shot him that handsome smile. It was going to be a long night.
The two men circled each other in an apparent stalemate. Then came Javier’s side kicks and spin kicks. Again, his style was aggressive but sloppy. An ordinary civilian would be unconscious by now, but James was not impressed. Javier was breathing heavy now while James had not broken a sweat. He winked at Esperanza. She shouted her name. He would be with her soon. Even if he had to go through hell to do it.
Hell was coming. Javier pulled out a few new tricks that showcased his demonic strength. James soon realized that Javier had some background in grappling and throwing. James was not prepared for this: his experience was with the striking arts only.
Javier rushed him like a wounded bull. James stepped gingerly aside and served him s knee to the chin as he passed. Javier was getting angrier all the time. This satisfied James to see, though he knew some fighters fought better with a burr under their saddle. Javier might be one of those.
James was caught off guard. Javier was able to grab him by arm, then the waist and throw him into the ground with a pile driver. He saw stars and he heard the shrieking of Esperanza and Esmeralda. But he emerged mostly unscathed much to his opponent’s dismay. His superior flexibility was paying off. He shook it off and sprang to his feet without using his hands. This move always brought cheers from the tournament crowds. Applause erupted here as well on both sides. Things were going his way. He looked over and saw that Esperanza was beaming. He blew her a kiss and continued.
James found himself in his comfort element. It was now his turn to teach a few lessons. He cracked open a few winning techniques from his tournaments days. He started peppering Javier with a barrage of lightning-quick kicks. James’ use of double kicks were hitting home with furious success. Javier’s guard was useless. He couldn't move his hands fast enough to block the incoming kicks. Sometimes James would kick low and then high. He didn't rechamber his kicks each time which made it easy for him to hit home again without putting his foot down. Javier was in trouble. His face registered shock. Had he known James was an experienced fighter? The smaller man was scoring at will now. Javier would have to adjust his fighting plan or it was going to be lights out.
James was still hardly breathing while his opponent was heaving desperately. James back pedaled and circled. He was showboating now, Ali style. James could see a new career in his future: kick the ass every gangster in Southern California with Javier being his first example.
James had more hell to go through. Javier was far from done. He was tired and bleeding but completely unafraid. He was ready to end this in a flurry of brutal, fatal attacks. Would James be ready?
Javier walked up to James. James readied himself with his traditional taekwondo stance. Javier simply grabbed his lead hand and raised it behind his back. James yelped and sunk to the ground. He was at a loss. He had no counter for an arm bar. He reflected on the UFC fights he had seen. He had a plan. He simply spun away from his opponent and the hold popped off. James got up and bowed to the crowd which went wild. He bowed to Javier who was in a less celebratory mood. Javier was running out of ideas. Unlike James he was very tired.
James was in a buoyant mode and looking to close the deal. But how should he end it? Unlike Javier, he didn't possess any lethal moves. He soared toward his opponent and administered his most theatrical kick: the flask kick. He flipped backwards catching Javier under the chin. He landed on his feet having executed a perfect flip in the air. The crowd was silent. Javier was lying on his back lifeless. His mouthguard lying to one side. James had only one idea for the grand finish.
James straddled his opponent's chest and plowed his fists into his face. He pounded him feverishly without mercy. Was he dead? James would make sure. He choked him. Still no response from Javier.
He heard the door to the warehouse fly open. In ran Officer Baker. He appeared at James’ side.
“Good work, buddy. I’ll take it from here.” This time the officer was smart enough to use handcuffs. Javier was done. James helped him carry Javier to his squad car. And that was that.
He had done it. Esperanza flew into his arms followed by a sobbing Esmeralda. He had done it for Esperanza, Esmeralda and Eric. He had done it for their future niños y niñas.
Most importantly, he had done it for himself. He knew who he was and the role he was to play in this world. He was a good man after all. Esperanza deserved it.