Thirteen Senses by Víctor Villaseñor Page B

cops. He was a businessman, after all, performing the service of selling quality merchandise to people who were adults and wanted his whiskey of their own freewill!
    And that’s when he saw it.
    That was when he saw that his old mother had her rosary in hand and she was in a trance praying.
    â€œHe will not see the barrels,” she was saying. “Do You hear me, God? He will not see the barrels! My son just got married and he’s starting a new life so he needs Your help right now! Not tomorrow, not next week, but right now, and so You will help him now, God, and that’s that! He will not see the barrels!”
    Salvador pulled the truck to a stop off the side of the road by a huge old tree.
    â€œDo You hear me, God?” continued Doña Margarita with her eyes closed in concentration. “You owe me one, God, and so You will help us now, or I swear You will have me to answer to when I get to Heaven, and we both know that Maria is on my side, and so You better pay close attention to me right now! He will not see the barrels! He will not see the barrels! Do You understand, Papito Dios ? You owe me one, and so he will not see the barrels!
    â€œYou just stay calm,” she said, opening her eyes and turning to Salvador. “You stay calm and everything is fine and he will not see the barrels, con el favor de Dios! ” she added, kissing the crucifix of her rosary. “Do you understand me, mi hijito, God owes me one, and so you just stay calm and everything will be as it is already; perfect!”
    â€œYes, mama, ” said Salvador, taking a deep breath. But oh, his heart was going a million miles an hour! In his rearview mirror, he now saw the huge cop climb out of his car, adjust his gun belt, and walk toward them with a slow, easy gait.
    Salvador thought of his .38 snubnose again.
    â€œNo!” she said. “You will not have any such thoughts! Do you understand? You will just keep calm like I said. God and I are handling this one for you, but from now on, as a married man, you will need to start making your own daily miracles!”
    Salvador nodded and was saying, “Yes, mama, ” when the cop came up to their truck, and he glanced into the bed.
    â€œWell,” said the cop, looking puzzled, “I pulled you over because your rear tires look pretty low, so I figured you had quite a load, but I can see that you’re not hauling anything, so I guess you just need to put some air in your tires.” And, saying this, he tipped his hat. “Drive carefully, and get some air in those tires at the next station.”
    Salvador couldn’t speak. All he could do was nod, and so he nodded again and again, then finally blared out, “Thank you, officer!”
    â€œYou’re welcome,” said the cop, and he looked into the truck bed once more, then returned to his vehicle.
    Salvador said nothing, thought nothing, until the policemen had driven off. Then he got out of the truck, looked in the bed of the Model T, saw the six barrels sitting there in plain sight, and he rubbed his forehead, and paced back and forth by the side of the vehicle.
    â€˜â€˜ Mama, ” he said, finally stopping and staring at her, “how do you do this? My God, in the Revolution, bullets were flying all about us, splattering in the rock and dirt, and I was sure we were going to die, but then you’d have us kneel on the ground and pray to God and—poof, those bullets wouldn’t hit us and we’d be safe.”
    She nodded. “Exactly, mi hijito, you quiet the heart here inside of yourself with prayer, this is the first step in all miracle making.”
    â€œAnd you say that now that I’m a married man, I’m going to have to learn how to make my own daily miracles?”
    â€œExactly,” she said. “To enter into the World of Creation is exactly what every married man and woman must know how to do.
    â€œWhy do you think the institution of