Street Rules

'I don't know who did it,' he grunted stubbornly.

Frank made no rush to speak.

'What if I told you I knew it was a cop.'

He looked at her like he hoped she wasn't playing a really bad joke then he turned his face back out the window. He lost some color and his chest started rising a little faster. Excellent, Frank thought, a direct hit.

'I don't know which cop — or cops —,' she said slowly, 'but I got a pretty good idea. It's only a matter of time now.'

Tonio whirled unexpectedly toward her.

'It ain't a chota,' he insisted, and like a bloodhound, Frank picked up the scent of fear. 'It ain't no fuckin' chota'

His vehemence confirmed his involuntary physical responses.

'Why are you covering for him? Or them. That's what I don't get. What do they have on you?'

'Nothin'! Ain't no one got nothin' on me. You hear? Nothin'!'

He was screaming, almost in tears. The weeks of continual harassment were finally taking their toll, finally wearing him down. Watching him desperately trying to hold himself together, she knew this was where he could go either way.

'Give me a name, Tonio. This is your chance to be a man about this. Don't be like a dog, running with its tail between its legs. Stand up for your sister, your familia. They need you, Tonio. This is your blood. You're all they got left.'

'I can't,' he choked, letting the tears fall. 'I can't. He'll kill us. Like he's killed everyone!'

Frank's blood was itchy, her veins suddenly walled with fiberglass.

'Who'll kill you?'

'He will! He killed everybody and then he killed Placa because she was gonna tell, and now he's gonna kill us if we tell! Don't you see? I can't tell.'

Slipping into his vernacular, she assured, 'He ain't gonna know you told me. Te promete.'

'No! I can't,' he pleaded, his face wet, fists balled.

Frank moved a light hand onto his shoulder.

'Yes, you can,' she whispered, leaning into him.

'I can't, I can't, I can't.'

She squeezed gently, afraid of losing his attention.

'Tonio,' she crooned, finding his huge eyes, 'Digame.'

'If I tol' you, you won' believe me.'

'Te juro. On your sister's grave, I swear I will.'

'You can' tell nobody. Not the other cops, that, that black dude, Taylor, and, and that chino. Nobody. You can't tell nobody 'cause if he find out he'll kill us.'

She believed him. Completely.

'There's only me. Right here, right now, just between you and me. Tell me his name.'

An acrid, bitter smell wafted off Tonio and he gulped air like he was drowning. Frank wooed him, her voice velvety and soft, 'What's his name?'

He rocked back and forth in the seat, like a much smaller boy. She was afraid of losing him, and stroked him again.

'Tell me his name, Tonio.'

The boy said one sharp word. Frank reared back, slapped. The air jammed in her lungs.

'What did you say?' she finally managed.

Tonio heaved, 'I tol' you. I tol' you you wouldn' believe me!'

Frank closed her eyes, torn between back-handing him or choking him with his shirt yanked tight under his throat.

'Just tell me again,' she said quietly, forcing herself into the still spot that she knew was inside her, the place where it was cool and hard and nothing could get to her.

He repeated the last name.

'What's his first name?'

After a second, he told her that too.

Frank looked at the sky overhead. It was blue and clear.

She could see all the way to the San Gabriel's today. It was pretty up there. It would be quiet. She remembered that from her hike with Gail. She thought about how she'd like to be there right now. Looking down on the city, watching the few cotton-ball clouds billowing by. The breeze through the window was sweet and she imagined how it would feel up there, the sun hot on her skin, the wind a cool tickle.

She propped her elbows inside the steering wheel and took a long time massaging the ridge of bone over her eyes. She lit another cigarette, dragged deeply, and passed it to Tonio. He grabbed it.

'That's what Placa was going to tell me,' she stated.

Tonio's shoulders bowed over his scrawny chest. Drained and defeated, the words came pouring out.

'Yeah. And about how he kilt my uncles and sobrinos. And about the dope. We been runnin' it for him since I was little. He and my mother's uncle was in business. Mostly my uncles ran it but my mom and Gloria did too. Then when Gloria had the babies Placa had to do it. But she hated it. She didn't wanna do it no more. She was smart. She wanted to stay clean, go to college. But he wouldn't let her quit. He used to slap her around, punch her a little. She hated him. She used to tell me what she was gonna do to him.'

He paused for air then plunged back into his confession.

'Placa was gonna tell you. My mom and Gloria, oh man, they was so mad when you tolt 'em Placa was gonna meet with you. They don't mind it, you know? They like the money. They hate him but they like the money. But Placa, man, she hated him like nothin' I've ever seen. She used to fight with them all the time. They'd fight so bad. And she made me promise to never carry. She wanted to get out so bad. She was gonna go to school and live in Beverly Hills and she was gonna take me with her.'

Tonio broke down into his hands and Frank sorted though his words.

'How do you know he did it?'

'He come by the night he kilt my Uncle Julio. He tol' us about it. Said it looked like my Uncle Luis done it and wasn't it too bad that he'd kilt hisself over it. My mom was all busted up but she wouldn' do nothin'. Just said we had to do whatever he tol' us. Then he found out Placa was gonna talk to you and he kilt her too. He was really mad after that. He was laughin' when he tolt us about my uncles, but he was real mad about Placa. He said he'd come after the babies if we made anymore trouble. So we couldn't say nothin'. Now I done it. I tol',' he sobbed.

Frank watched a latte-skinned woman tug three children in front of the car. She had another one in her belly. Ike called Mexican women milk makers. That was the nicest thing he called them. Lighting another cigarette, she said dully, 'You did the right thing.'

She smoked, giving them both time to calm down. When she started the car, he looked alarmed.

'Where we goin'?'

'I'm taking you home.'

'Wha' you gonna do?'

'I've gotta think.'

Tonio turned toward her, all the fear back.

'You promised you wouldn' tell nobody.'

She studied him, seeing so much of Placa in the high cheekbones, the pretty mouth.

'I won't,' she responded.

When she walked him into the house, Gloria was on the couch watching a novella with her friends. Their kids tumbled on the floor like puppies. Claudia came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. She looked at her son, then at Frank.

'Where you been?' she asked with unusual concern.