Pagodaville, page 13
Lorna went out to the turn-around. When she saw Anya, Milton, and Cheenah her emotions splayed like a jellyfish preparing for flight. She wanted to yell, cry, shake them, hug them. She said nothing but watched as they walked gingerly around the taped excavated graves. They looked small, defeated. Even Anya’s defiance seemed to deflate.
Luis approached Lorna with a man by his side. “Miss Lorna, this is Marco Puente.”
Lorna reached out her hand. The poor man looked like a scarecrow. “Hello Marco, I am Lorna Hughes. Luis has told me a lot about you.”
He nodded and took her hand. His grasp was soft, his eyes watery. He bowed his head. “Thank you, Miss, for seeing me today.”
Lorna’s resolved softened momentarily. “You are welcome, Marco. Thank you for coming.”
Anya approached Lorna.
Lorna crossed her arms in front of her chest again, prepared for battle.
Anya said, “Miss Lorna. I think maybe it would be best if we could all come in and go right to the kitchen.”
Lorna was pleased that Anya finally got the memo about calling her by her given name. “Why the kitchen?”
“The painting on the wall. I told Marco you did not cover it up. He says it will help him to explain things.”
“Okay. Let’s get going.”
Anya assembled the troops and they went single file, heads bowed and silent, into the main building.
Lorna looked at Cheenah as she passed by. Not a single phone call while she was away. Nothing to connect them. So much for the sisterhood.
Doreen was the last one to enter. Lorna looked her square in the eye. Blue met green with a jolt of lightening between them. All Lorna could do was breathe in the essence of Doreen. She smelled like wind and engine. Lost was the bravado.
Lorna said, “You look tired.”
Doreen nodded. “You don’t even know.”
Once assembled in the kitchen, Lorna and Avril went to the front of the pack.
Lorna put her hand on Avril’s shoulder. “I would like to introduce you to Avril Klane. She is my dearest friend and was kind enough to come to my rescue when the rest of you decided to run.”
Anya, Milton, and Cheenah exchanged looks with each other and put their heads down.
“So, who will start?”
Marco cleared his throat then raised his hand. “I will speak.” Cheenah gently took him by the elbow and brought him in front of the mural, near the sink.
Marco looked up at the painting. All eyes were on him. He crooked his head this way and that and a slow smile came over his face. “Such a bonito day this was, remember everyone?” He turned to face his family. They spoke in low tones.
“Of course.”
“I will never forget.”
“Look how happy we were.”
“I miss them, our parents.”
“We shared everything.”
Marco continued to speak, his voice so soft, almost a whisper. “You see, Miss, I was only seven years old here at this time. This is my mother, Tita, and this is my father, Diego.” He pointed to two of the four adults in the painting. He was portrayed running towards them with laughter on his chubby, happy, childhood face. His mother had her arms open to him and his father was smiling down.
He continued, “This right here,” he leaned over the sink and tapped his finger on a little girl. “This is Alianah.” He turned to face Anya.
She whispered, “Yes, that is me.”
Lorna wanted to ask her why she never shared that the people in the mural were her family, but she turned back to Marco, who moved a bit down the counter and said, “Ah, this is Cheenah and Luis. They were always getting into mischief those two.” Cheenah and Luis were near a tree and had their heads together in some sort of plan.
“I see now,” Lorna nodded.
“And these people here, are Consuela and Cesare. They are the parents of Anya, Cheenah, and Luis. Consuela and Tita were sisters, but not blood sisters. The Puente family adopted Consuela.”
“Who painted the mural, Marco?”
“Madre.”
“Very talented. She really captured the moment. Tender and loving.”
Marco turned to face Lorna. He clasped his hands in front of him at his waist. “I loved my family so very much. It was so hard, that day, when I had to leave. When I told them about what I saw, they were so very afraid for my life. I remember papa and uncle Cesare sitting me down and explaining how important it was that I did not say anything to anyone else.” Marco sighed deeply.
Lorna approached him and put her hand on his arm. “Do you want to sit down, Marco?”
“No, no. I am fine right here.” He looked to Cheenah who nodded her head for him to continue.
“Miss. You see, when I was to become eighteen years old, my family gave to me a very wonderful party. It was at The Palms where Cesare and Consuela were caretakers. I had my very first girlfriend then and we planned, for so many weeks, to meet that night of the party back here,” he raised his hand toward the ceiling, “so we could be…together.” He cleared his throat then continued. “So, I hid my bicycle in the bushes at The Palms, then rode very fast to come back to get things ready, you know, make sure everything was just right. We planned it, you see, to wait until everyone had much to drink and would not miss us.”
Lorna nodded. She could picture the night clearly. An eighteen-year old boy nervous and excited about becoming a man.
“When I came back here to The Pagoda, I saw Mister G with all these men in white shirts with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. There was a big tractor with a big claw on the front and a cement mix truck. They must have worked quickly because the equipment was not there when we left for the party just a few hours before.” He started to pace. “You see, there were two big holes in the ground already and then, there was this other truck, a van, with the doors come up right to the very edge of what turned out to be the tennis court hole. When Mister G and his men opened the doors to the back of the van, they yelled for the people inside to get out. You see, their hands, they were tied behind their back, like this.” Marco demonstrated then continued, his hands slightly shaking. “Then the men and Mister G lined these other men up around the edge of the hole, you see. Then Mister G took a shotgun and started to kill the men standing at the edge of the hole one by one with rapido fire. A few of these men tried to run away but they got shot in the back. Mister G, he ordered his men to pull the other bodies back and then throw them into the hole with the other bodies.”
Complete silence in the room.
Marco looked over to Cheenah who nodded her head for him to continue. He said, “I had to wait for Marianna, so I stayed behind the bushes. I did not want my beloved to see what was going on. I could barely keep my breath. When I saw her coming towards me on her bicycle, I quickly met her and told her we had to return to The Palms. She did not know what was going on, but she saw how scared I was.
“When we arrived, I told her I had to speak with my uncle, Cesare. I told her to go get him and bring him outside. I did not want to go back into the party. Because if I told my father, he would go immediately to The Pagoda, and I did not want him to get killed!”
Marco took a deep breath to steady himself, then continued. “So, I told uncle Cesare what I saw, and at first he did not believe me. But he must have believed me soon because I started to…crying very hard. He told me I had to tell my father right away. He tried to calm me down and told me when he was younger, he saw lawmen kill two very famous criminals in a cottage near to where he worked to pick oranges with his father, and that he hated violence.”
Lorna wondered why Cesare ever came here in the first place if he knew that the mob owned the very motels they worked in, got paid for, raised their kids in. If he knew that violence was a big part of the job description of being in the mob, why subject his family to it? Unless, of course, he really did not know what they did.
“You see, miss, it was almost two o’clock in the morning, and Cesare and Diego snuck over to The Pagoda. They watched as the cement truck filled in the big holes. The very next day Mister G presented to my father a new little court and swimming pool. It was so very hard to be as we were and not let on that we knew what he did. If he found out, it would mean we would lose everything or maybe end up in some hole in the ground, too. It was then a rule in our families that no one, no matter what, was to speak of what was buried under the grounds.”
Avril took in a deep breath and murmured, “Good God.”
Marco continued, “My family was very worried that Mister G would find out I knew, and so then I had to go live with my father’s brother, Bernardo, in Mexico City. At least for a while.”
Lorna gently asked, “Marco, who was Mister G?”
A choked voice came from the back of the group. “Gino DiLaRusso.”
All heads turned towards Doreen.
Marco looked directly at Doreen. “You know of this man?”
Doreen stepped to the front of the group. “Yes. He was my grandfather.”
Marco visibly paled. He stepped back from her and then blurted out in one breathless sentence, “Please, please, I did not do anything for so many years I told only my family and my family sent me away to keep me safe because they thought Mister G would kill me if he found out I knew about the bodies.” He crumpled against the counter and put his head in his hands. “So many bodies.” He shook with sobs.
Cheenah went to him and put her arms around his shoulders. “Is hokay, Marco. Come on, is hokay, you are safe here.” She scowled at Doreen who had her face in her hands.
Marco spoke under his breath in Spanish.
Lorna went to him and held his hand. “It was very brave of you to come here today. Cheenah is correct, you are safe, Marco. The past is gone now.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Lorna moved the group out of the kitchen into the lobby and waited until everyone was comfortable.
“First of all, I want to thank you for coming back. I don’t have to tell you it’s been a very rough couple of days.” She paused here then stated, “I am seriously considering reselling the motel.”
This elicited gasps.
“When I bought this property, my wish was to provide a place where creative people could create. Where the atmosphere would be kind, gentle, and rewarding. Are you following me?”
They all nodded.
“Things were going along so well. Anya, Milton, Cheenah, you three were my world. You kept me focused, you kept up with your tasks, showed me that this could be done. You accepted me and my sexuality so… quickly. I truly thought I was building a new family, one that cared, and shared a vision of sorts. We took this beat-up property and made it habitable again.”
Nods and murmurs.
“Oh yes. We worked hard.”
“Yes, it has come so far.”
“Yes, it is so beautiful.”
“Then a stranger arrives on the scene.” She looked at Doreen. Doreen tried to smile but instead pinched her lips together and nodded slightly.
“She arrives at my doorstep, seemingly interested in my ad for renters, but now I see that she is back here because there is history here for her. Did she know that when she arrived on our doorstep that day a few weeks ago? Yeah, I think she did. Did she realize that the motel where her grandfather committed his heinous crimes was one and the same offered in The Connection ad, and that she had hit pay-dirt? Yeah, I’m pretty sure she did. So, was I surprised when she just happened to return here to the motel, today of all days? Not really. Fate was working its charms.”
Doreen bowed her head, her hands clasped between her knees.
“But I digress. We are here today to figure out why after so many years, the remains of brutal murders are finally unearthed. Why didn’t any of you say anything? Do you all realize you might be complicit in a felony?”
This was not true, but she thought a little sensationalism was called for.
There were more audible gasps.
“If I had not thought to dig up the court to build a garden for my tenants, none of this would be happening. But I did. And I should have followed my gut when you guys,” she nodded towards Anya and Milton and Cheenah, “took off down south for a fake sick cousin.”
Anya interrupted quietly and said, “But Miss, we do have a cousin named Gloria, only she lives in California. And she is well, however—"
“Anya!” Lorna pursed her lips and continued. “I should have stopped you and demanded an explanation! My God, you guys, why didn’t you talk to me? Was I that unapproachable?”
The sound of the overhead ceiling fan provided some white noise while everyone waited. Lorna crossed her arms in front of her chest and paced. “I will stay here all night until one of you has a believable answer.”
Milton stood up. “Miss Lorna. It is because we love you that we came back as quickly as we could. It was our reason to leave. We had to go to Marco to convince him to come back with us. At first, he refused. But after Anya and I left him, Cheenah was able to persuade him to come with her. He was frightened of coming back here, but you see, he has been living with his frights for many years now. Back then, there was no going to the policia. There was no one to tell because everyone in town was, how do you say, paid away to keep quiet.”
Lorna nodded. She understood how the mob worked from reading and watching movies. But, hearing about it first-hand made it more plausible that Marco had to carry this horrible secret around with him for his entire adult life, with only his family to protect him, and for them to keep quiet as well for their own protection.
Luis said, “You see, Miss Lorna, the Mexican family is very strong together. We protect our own. When Marco had to leave us, he went with other relatives who he could not tell. Maybe our parents did the wrong thing by sending him away, but they were so very frightened for his life. And he was so scared. He was not well from then on, Miss Lorna. He just gave up on life. And we missed him so very much. Diego and Tita, they could not have any more children for some reason, and Marco was all they had. They had us, but it wasn’t the same.”
Lorna asked, “Did Mister G ever find out? I mean, if Mister G did not know Marco witnessed the murders, why would Marco have to leave his family?”
No one spoke for a moment.
Then Anya stood up and Milton sat down. “Because that is how we did things, Miss Lorna. We were all very scared at the time. All we knew is that we were well cared for.”
Lorna said quietly, “Yeah, well cared for to keep quiet for them.” She looked over at Doreen who averted her eyes back down towards the floor.
Anya pleaded. “Miss Lorna. I must ask of you not to sell the motel. It is so beautiful. You made a great movement—er, uhm—move from Clevahland. Milton and I and everyone made things beautiful again for your guests. We saw how much you wanted these things to work. We were just scared, is all, and we did not know how to make it right. We thought maybe if we went down to bring Marco back it would make things right again. And maybe he could be right again, too.”
“I appreciate that, Anya, I really do. But I must understand why you didn’t tell me about things when I started to dig up. I put a lot of trust into you three. We could have worked this problem together. It didn’t have to go this far.”
Anya sat back down.
Cheenah stood. “Miss Lorna. We did not know what to do. When Miss Doreen arrived unexpectedly and said her father had been killed in the mafia, we were very worried that maybe she was sent by Mister G’s family to…uhm. Well, to take care of…”
Lorna guffawed. “Cheenah! I can’t even believe I’m hearing this!”
When no one said anything, Lorna realized with stark-raving clarity that maybe they did think the story wasn’t over yet…that revenge could come at any time. But revenge for what? These people were no more involved in the crimes committed so many years ago than the man in the moon.
Lorna shook her head then looked at Doreen. “Care to comment?”
Doreen looked up from staring at her clasped hands. Her face pained. “I think I can clear a few things up.” Everyone turned to face her. “Do I have to stand?”
Lorna, despite her mixed feelings about Doreen at the present time, had to stifle a chuckle. “No. You just have to talk. The truth.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about this on my trip down here. I haven’t slept much so, I hope I can make sense.” She cleared her throat and stretched her neck and shoulders. “Lorna, I apologize for coming here under the disguise of being interested in your ad. Well, actually, I thought the concept was, is pretty fantastic but…I was after something else.”
Lorna leaned against the stereo cabinet. She watched Doreen’s mouth move, her beautifully shaped mouth.
“See, in the family, there is a pecking order. Like, one guy is the top man and then everyone underneath him is more like a…a…I dunno, like a service man. There’s a whole lotta levels, see. My grandfather was the top man for many years. He had so many different levels under him that I don’t even understand all of it. He ran all the deals, assigned his crews, opened clubs and bars, ran gambling joints from one end of New York to Miami. He was highly respected. He was known throughout the family as the brains behind all the operations. You didn’t mess with Gino’s operations. If you did, well, then…” she paused, “so, from what my uncle Vinnie tells me, Gino found out about a group of guys who were running a scam in the family. They were double-dipping into some big funds. They thought they could get away with it, but they never made it. It was the dumbest thing to try to outsmart Gino. His connections ran so deep. So, Vinnie tells me that when Gino got wind of it, he rounded up the bad eggs and brought them here. The motel was clearly out of the way and no one would be the wiser. See, those guys—the ones who tried to get away with stealing from within the family— are the ones who were buried underneath your court, Lorna.”
“Jesus…” Lorna and Avril exchanged glances.
“In the family, all things come around. Know what I mean? Even the top man isn’t safe. Even though Gino kept his security guys around him at all times, they couldn’t keep an eye on everything. There is always some kind of revenge going on within the family. It’s such a complicated mess, really. You guys still following me?”
