Death for Killing’s Sake Yesterday, I walked with el recrutador. I could tell he doubted me. He doubted my resolve. He thought that I would quaver, that I would panic and in the heat of the moment, I would change my mind. I am not so fickle. Things happen when you are young that change your world. When you are still una bebe’, things don’t make a difference. Things like who’s around and who’s feeding you, that don’t matter, just as long as you get fed. It’s not till you get older, when you start looking round, that you see. Then you see the difference. This recruiter, he thought I was just a stupid girl, that girls can’t be angry, that we can’t hate. He’s wrong. “So, muchacha, why did you bring me here?” “Por que… “I could feel his eyes sliding down my body for the twentieth time that day. I turned away and stared, head up, at the rubble. “Because, this was our house.” I could still see the walls and rooms – ghosts in the shadows - Mama and Sirena. “Ah, so you brought me here to cry…. This will not convince me that you can do the job, muchacha.” I could hear derision in his voice. I turned to look at him, giving him the same assessing look he gave me. “Do I look like I am crying?” I shook my head and raised my eyes from his crotch to meet his. He stared at me for a moment. I knew what he saw, a skinny, no-breasted, fourteen-year-old. A girl with a crooked nose, short-short black hair, men’s ragged clothes and cold, brown, ghost-eyes. His gaze shifted uncomfortably to my dirty, bare feet. “Okay, so, why are we here?” I smiled. “I need to tell you why I have to do this. I need to convince you that I can do what needs to be done. Otherwise, you’ll think I’m just a girl - that I’m just saying I want to do this because it is the thing to do – it is cool. That when I have to push the button, I will freeze and you will waste time and money.” I glared at him. “You are wrong.” He laughed and picked his teeth with his little fingernail. “I am not wrong often, muchacha.” His Adidas shifted in the dirt, toe grinding down. He grinned. “But I’ll listen, I have nothing better to do today.” I stared at him for a moment, not sure if he would listen, but then I shrugged and began. “Okay…. We lived here. All of us did - Mama, Sirena, Paulo, Rosa, Papa and me. I never knew Papa, though. He died before I can remember. Sirena told me soldiers came and took him away one morning when I was very little. She told me they put him in prison and then the next day, they shot him – but I don’t remember that.” I looked at the ghost wall at the corner of the yard. Bougainvillea had grown there. I remembered that. Mama would stand next to the vines, laughing at Sirena and me as we splashed each other with water she had brought for the day. “Hijas, cuidado! I don’t want to go to the well again!” But, she always laughed as she scolded. I shook my head to keep my focus. The recruiter sat down on the crumbled rock left from Mama’s kitchen wall. “There were bougainvillea plants growing on that wall over there. You know the kind with the red-pink flowers? I remember those. I remember them because Mama used to carry extra water from the well for them. Everyday she would water them. She told me that they would be there forever because something has to be…. She lied.” “Paulo died when I was almost five, I remember that, too. That’s when Mama stopped bringing the water. She said it didn’t matter no more. Sirena and I brought water then. We wanted the flowers to stay, to be beautiful; we wanted Mama to be happy.” He shifted and reached in his pocket, pulled out his cellphone and started flipping it open and shut. I needed him to stay and hear my story. I talked faster. “It didn’t make no difference. Mama never even noticed the flowers were still there. She got skinny and she worried about Rosa and Sirena and me. Rosa would laugh and tell her that nothing was going to happen, that we were girls and soldiers don’t kill girls, but Rosa was wrong.” “Mama and I walked to the corner one afternoon to wait for Rosa. The soldiers blew her up while she was walking down the street. She was with her friends, Carmen and Lucia. Mama and I heard an explosion and we saw them just fly apart. The bomb hit them, just them. Nothing else, ‘cept the street under their feet. Mama screamed and ran. She kept picking pieces up and screaming for Rosa. By the time Sirena and I got her home, she was covered in blood. She sat on the floor and hummed quietly while she pulled out her hair. I remember picking it up and trying to put it back, but Sirena stopped me.” “The next time the soldiers came down the street, Mama jumped up and ran outside. She screamed at the soldiers to kill her, too. She ran at the jeeps and tanks and beat on them with her fists. The first time she did it, I think she scared them, but all she ever did was scream and hit their tanks. She did it every time they came by for months. Soon they laughed at her and shoved her away. They called her una vaca estupida. They told her to grow her hair – that it was no wonder she had no husband as ugly as she was - una bruja fea.” “Mama stopped taking care of Sirena and me after that. She would sit in the house and not move for days. Sirena and I had to go out and find food and cook by ourselves. Mama’s flower vines withered.” The recruiter cleared the dust from his throat. “It’s a hard story, muchacha, but we all have hard stories. The soldiers have destroyed many families, but I still don’t think so….” He started to get up from his perch on the rubble. “Wait, I am not finished. There is more.” “I don’t need to hear more. I need someone who hates. Your story is sad, but I see no hate.” He whacked the dust off his pants. “All you have heard is the sad part – the part that any girl would tell you if she wanted you to fuck her.” His eyebrows shot up and he grinned. I knew I had caught his attention. “Well, I don’t want you to fuck me. I am no whore. I need to do this, and if you listen, you will help me do it.” “Okay, chica,” and he laughed as he eased himself back down on the rubble. “Convince me, because you are certainly too skinny to fuck.” I started again. “Like I said, after Rosa died, Mama didn’t feed us no more. She never went out to find food and she didn’t cook. Sirena and I looked for food, but it was hard to find – we didn’t know where Mama had found it, and many days we stayed hungry. After many months, we found holes in the fences and we crossed the border. The garbage behind the restaurants was good. Sometimes it was bad, but we learned to tell if it was because we would get so sick. If the food was good we tried to get Mama to eat it. She would roll it in her mouth and swallow, if one of us watched her.” “One night, I found a big melon in the garbage. It was green and beautiful and big and cool…. I knew Mama would eat it; I wanted her to smile. I shoved it into my bag and we ran for the hole in the fence. But I hit the fence, or Sirena hit the fence, or maybe even the melon hit the fence. The siren went off. Lights popped on and we ran. We ran so hard; I heard Sirena’s breath screaming in and out of her lungs. Bullets hit the walls around us and flying bits of rock cut my arms and face as I ran. We dodged and ran and dodged, trying to get away and get home. I thought we would never make it. We flew around this one corner and there was the courtyard wall ahead of us. Sirena was ahead of me, but she was gasping and whistling and I shouted to her to run. I knew I was going to get caught or hit, but I didn’t. I heard a whump behind me and suddenly the wall next to Sirena exploded. There.” I pointed to the rubble without the bougainvillea vine. I stared at the ghost wall for a moment, took a deep breath and went on. “It was this wall, the wall of our courtyard. It was so hot that night that Mama was sleeping outside, next to the wall. Sirena, the wall, Mama and the bougainvillea all turned to dust and pieces. The flash blew me down and covered me with rocks.” “It knocked me out; my head was spinning when I woke up. There were lots of people – our people and soldiers with guns…. I could see their mouth’s moving. They were shouting and pointing at each other, but I couldn’t hear them. No one seemed to see me, and I didn’t know where I was, the street had changed. I remember sitting up and looking down to see why I was all wet. My hands were covered with blood and dirt. When I looked back up, I saw people throwing rocks at the soldiers. The soldiers started shooting back. People were running, throwing rocks, getting shot and dying as I watched, but I could do nothing. I remember screaming and not hearing my own screams. I remember trying to help, but my legs weren’t working right. I fell down every time I pulled myself up. The soldiers hid behind walls that were in front of me, I wanted to do something to make them stop shooting, but all I had was blood, dirt and a melon in a bag. I cried and watched people die.” “It lasted forever, then the soldiers came out. Some walked over to the people they had killed and kicked them or poked them with their guns. One soldier walked up to me. He was wearing an officer’s uniform. He pointed and silently laughed. I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want him to see the hate and fear in my eyes. I looked over at the rubble. Suddenly, I noticed Mama’s hand lying by the rocks. A boot nudged me, but I didn’t look up. The officer strode over to Mama’s hand - I knew it was her hand, it had her ring on it, the silver one that Papa had given her. He bent down to look in my face and nudged her hand with his toe. It was just her hand – no arm. He laughed; I could see hatred and such evil in his eyes. Then he kicked her hand out into the street.” “I realized I was screaming again when he hit me in the face with the butt of his gun. My nose and lips popped and there was so much blood. I think he walked away, but I don’t know. All I remember is crawling out into the street, dodging boots and feet, feeling for Mama’s hand.” I felt my mouth stretch into a smile. “You know, I remember how her hand felt, still warm in the hot night air… the skin dusty and soft. There was only her hand. That was all I had left. I scrambled back to the rubble and held it close to me until morning.” “In the light, todas mujeras viejas came out and found their dead. I could see them howling, crying and throwing themselves on the bodies. All I could hear was a soft buzz and ring. It was so quiet inside my head. I got up, put Mama’s hand in my pocket, grabbed the melon bag and walked up to the top of that hill.” I pointed. “I found a good place, under an acacia, - a place with shade. I dug a hole, took out the hand, kissed it and buried it. I said goodbye to Mama and Sirena, cried and sat down on a rock, broke the melon open and ate it. It was sweet. I shared the juice with them, hoping something pretty would grow there.” “After that, I became a ghost. No one saw me or talked to me. I walked through the streets, in the middle of the day, but no one knew I was there.” I looked at the recruiter to see if he understood. I don’t think he did, but it doesn’t matter. I know I was a ghost – I had died. But I had to stay for awhile. Mama wasn’t ready for me, yet. “I ate when I needed to. Sometimes I just went into houses and picked up food from tables. No one ever did anything, no one saw me. After awhile, I started going back across the fence – but never through the hole. I would stop outside the guard houses and listen. At first, I listened to see if they knew I was there. They never did. They talked about us. They talked about how stupid we were and how all we want to do is kill.” I glanced at the recruiter, he was listening, his eyes eager. “What else did they say? Did they say things we could use? Can you listen more?” “No, they say nada. They know nada. The only ones that know anything are officers and they don’t stay in the guard houses.” “But what if you listened more, don’t they talk about their plans, their orders?” “No, they don’t get orders until right before they’re supposed to go. It does no good then…. And I am no spy.” “You’re not, I can see that,” he said derisively, “I’m just not sure what you are then. A ghost? What good is a ghost that I can see? No. I don’t think you can do this job, muchacha, you are too crazy for this job.” I laughed. “I may be crazy, but I know I am the only one who can do this job. I know where the officer lives now. I looked for months without knowing what I was looking for. Then finally I saw him at a pizza shop. I was hungry, and had stolen a piece up from his table. I ate half of it before I realized who he was. I threw the rest down and ran outside to vomit. When I was done, I waited. I knew he would come out and I would follow him.” “All day I followed him and finally he went home. I waited until he slept, crept inside and found him in bed with his beautiful wife with the blonde hair. I stared at them. I learned their faces. I found his children and did the same. Then I went back to his room, found his gun, picked it up and put the barrel to his head. I was going to shoot him, but while I stared at his sleeping face, I realized it would mean nothing. There would be no pain for him and I would still be a ghost. I put the gun back and again waited outside. For weeks, maybe months, I followed him and his family – time means nothing to a ghost. But, I know where he lives, who his friends are, who his mistress is, what days the family goes out and where they go. I know the church, the school, the doctors…. I know the names of his wife and children.” I bent over and looked into the recruiter’s face. “The officers and their families are having a summer pool party tomorrow. I will be there. If you let me do this, he will die. He will die and so will many others. It will be worth your while. This is why this ghost is still here.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “This will not work; there is no way you could get into that kind of a party, they won’t let you in! This ‘ghost’ thing is just loco! I told you I can see you. If you were a ghost, I couldn’t!” I put out my hand in front of him telling him to stop. “Wait, I’ll show you. Let’s go to the market. I’ll show you there – no one will see me.” “This is stupid! You are not a ghost! I can see you!” “I know you can see me, but I am still a ghost. Come on.” We walked two blocks to the market. I don’t know why he followed me, but he did. At the fruit, I picked up a banana. In the middle of the store, I peeled and ate it. No one noticed me except the recruiter. When I was done, I threw the peel on the floor and waited. A clerk came over after a minute, picked it up and threw it away. I walked behind the glass cases, I did not sneak. I took an empanada and a cookie. I stood there, eating them behind the counter. The store owner worked around me as though I was invisible. I am a ghost. I picked up his Coke and finished it. In a minute, he picked it up, stared at the bottle with a puzzled look on his face and glanced around as though someone had taken it. I was the only one there and he couldn’t see me. I walked out as he shook his head, mystified. I nodded to the recruiter and we walked down the street. “Now do you believe me?” “No. I don’t know what to believe!” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to do. I know you are crazy, but I may have to give you what you want. This is too good of a chance to give up. What time is the party tomorrow?” “I need to be there by 2:00.” “Meet me at your old house at 12:00. I will be there with my decision.” He reached to pat my shoulder, but I shied away. It is almost 2:00. The officer and his family are some of the last to arrive, as always. From the hilltop overlooking the house, I can see children playing near the pool. The officers and their wives are congregating around near the barbecue grills. I can smell chicken and beef; the meat is charring. I feel the heat of the day on my face, take a deep breath and walk down the slope to the driveway. I know the recruiter is on a hill nearby watching. He will not be disappointed. At the front door, I wait next to a bush until another officer and his family are welcomed and I follow them in. The house is from a movie, something Mama had dreamed about long ago and told me while I sat on her knee. I wander through the house, wishing my life, la vida de mi familia, had been like this – had been something…. Then I find the glass door to the pool. I wander through the crowd, no one sees me, no one moves away, no one bumps me. I am a ghost. I find the officer. He is with several others, but he is not the only one I am looking for. Finally! His wife! The mother of his children! And look, not just one, but two beautiful blonde girls. I slip up next to them, take a deep breath, find the button for the explosives and yell, “Look at me!” Their heads all swiveled around, searching. “Look at me!” I commanded. “Listen!” Suddenly, I am not a ghost. They all stop and stare at the rag-girl with the explosive vest. I speak softly, knowing their ears were focused. “You killed mine, I kill yours, and the death goes on.” The officer and someone else run from across the pool to stop me, but it is too late. My thumb pushes the red button. I see bougainvillea on the wall behind the grill and I smile as my body explodes. Freed, I go to find Mama and Sirena, leaving the officers to find their own families.
