The sun felt cold on my skin. I couldn’t hear any crickets chirp, or any birds sing. The garden had died, and the trees had stopped dancing in the wind.

The corridors seemed longer, and to walk down them was an endless, aimless trip. The hall looked bigger, but somehow not as grand as it usually did.

My favorite songs didn’t sound the same, my piña colada had a bitter aftertaste. Someone at the party suggested sliding down the staircase on a mattress, and even that couldn’t bring a smile to my face.

There were no colors at sunset, no stars in the night sky. My dinner had no flavor, and anyways, I didn’t even feel hungry. I was still coming down from the drugs, and not even the new colors that my brain hallucinated managed to interest me.

He’d avoided me all day, and then he’d disappeared at night, and that made the whole world feel empty.

It was him I saw when I closed my eyes. That short-lived smile on his face when I turned to face him, and his hands were still wrapped around my waist, right before I told him I’d mistaken him for someone else.

It hurt me that I might have hurt him, but the most painful thought of all was that this incident might have made me lose one of my only friends.

Since then, Juan hadn’t said a single word, and he hadn’t looked at me once, not even a side-eye. Without him around to share a drink with me and lose our minds together, this night of madness had felt a little too lonely.

I woke up with the Sun on the next morning, still in bed next to Pablo. He hadn’t tried to smother me with a pillow, which I supposed meant he hadn’t found out about the things that happened the day before.

Even though Juan wasn’t around, I still poured myself a drink. The dynamic duo he and I used to form was more of a terrible trio if you count alcohol, and as long as there were hundreds of bottles of liquor stashed in Pablo’s pantry and kitchen cabinets, I would never really be alone.

I roamed around the house, cocktail in hand, glaring at anyone who dared to stare at my drink for too long. I wasn’t looking for judgment or morals, just for someone to talk to, someone to pull me out of my misery, or my insanity, or whatever this state of mind was called.

Outside in the garden, right beside the iron-wrought gate that led to the staff’s quarters, under a white stone arch and the twisted branches of bougainvillea, sat two maids, holding hands. One in a pristine baby blue uniform, and the other in a tear-stained mint green apron.

“Un dia me dice si, el siguiente dice que no,” sniffled Majo as I walked up to them. “Justo ayer queria coger y hoy me dice que se arrepiente. Te lo juro Mafer, ese chavo esta loco.”

One day he tells me yes, and the next he says no. Just yesterday, he wanted to fuck and today he tells me he regrets it. I swear, Mafer, this guy is insane.

“Hey,” I said to the girls, swallowing what was left of my drink with a loud gulp. “Have you seen Juan?”

“Si lo veo, lo mato,” spat Majo, before she burst into tears again.

If I see him, I’ll kill him.

Mafer gently rubbed her hand down her friend’s back as she looked up at me, pinching her bottom lip between her teeth.

“What happened?” I asked her.

“Just boy stuff,” she whispered. “It’s fine.”

Majo buried her face in her hands, and let out a frustrated cry.

“A las mujeres las come, las mastica y las escupe como mierda,” she seethed.

He eats up women, chews them, and spits them out like a piece of shit.

She lifted up her head again, her cheeks flushed and her eyes red, and glared right in my direction.

“No soy la primera, y no vas a ser la última.”

I’m not the first one, and you won’t be the last.

Mafer’s eyes widened, and clenched her teeth to stop her jaw from dropping. Majo stormed off, sobbing loudly, and when the dust she kicked up in her wake finally settled, Mafer was staring right at me.

“You and Juan,” she breathed. “Is that why he broke up with her?”

“Oh no, she– I don’t think it’s anything to do with me. We would never,” I stammered. “We’re just friends.”

“Why does she think it’s your fault?” she frowned, fidgeting with her apron.

“I don’t know, but she’s wrong,” I mumbled.

A sigh slipped through her parted lips.

“Just beware of him,” she said.

I nodded, and gulped, and Mafer smiled softly. Her sweet, crooked grins never failed to warm my heart, just like when the sun peeks through the clouds after a gust of cold wind. She patted the wall she was settled on, and I sat beside her.

“Do you think Majo’s right about Juan?” I asked. “Do you think he’s an asshole?”

“I think he’s one of those men who doesn’t fall in love,” she murmured. “He just finds easy targets.”

Easy targets. That rang a bell. I tried and tried to recall what I’d been told about men who liked to find easy targets, but my memory was as blurry as my eyesight at two in the morning on a Saturday night. Still, I was sure that I’d heard it before, and I had a lingering feeling that it was from Juan himself.

“Why? What did he do?”

“He used her. He knew she wanted attention and affection, but all he wanted was sex. So he lied to her,” she muttered. “He promised her the Earth, and kept telling her how much better she was than his fiancé and anybody else he’d ever met. He told her he wished he could marry her, but then as soon as he got bored and found someone else to fuck, he dumped her.”

“Well, just so you know, that someone else isn’t me,” I replied.

“I know,” she whispered. “But promise me you’ll be careful.”

Her deep brown eyes stared right into mine, and her eyebrows scrunched up like a scolding mother’s. My cheeks started to blush, and I felt awful – as embarrassed as in one of those childhood nightmares where you walk into your classroom naked.

“Do you think I’m an easy target?” I asked meekly.

She took a deep breath. A little too deep. She broke eye contact and glanced towards the ground as she answered.

“No.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” I sighed. “I guess I am an easy target. I have a long history of men taking advantage of me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Gustavo’s an obvious example,” I thought out loud. “And then, remember that time when I went to a club at the beach? There was a guy there, he found me alone, kind of lost, basically an easy target. We danced together, chatted a bit, danced some more and then he tried to spike my drink. Juan pulled me out of there before he could do anything. I guess that’s part of the reason why we’re friends.”

Why we were friends, perhaps. Because if Mafer was right, he’d seen me as an easy target, a girl too high and drugged up to notice whose groin I was grinding against. The perfect opportunity to kiss my neck and grope my tit. I clenched my teeth at the thought of it.

“What’s wrong, Emilia?”

“Nothing,” I mumbled, staring at the bottom of my empty glass.

She wrapped an arm around me, and I rested my head on her shoulder, nestling my face in her silky hair, as if it was a curtain that could hide me from my sorrows.

“You know, when you think of it, even Pablo must have seen me as an easy target,” I groaned. “I told him everything about me, so not only does he think I have daddy issues, he knows I’m a little desperate for any kind of love. And then, on top of all that, I don’t have any other choice than to get on well with him if I want him to spare my life.”

“I don’t think it’s that black or white. You’re much more than that,” she whispered, curling a lock of my hair around her finger. “When I look at you, I see a beautiful, perfect woman. One with quick wits and a sense of humor, and who is much stronger than she thinks. I admire you, and I’m sure a lot of people do. I see a lot of good reasons why a man like Pablo would fall in love with you.”

Her soft voice and darling words managed to wring a smile out of me. Mafer always knew what to say and how to heal me. Perhaps it was just a bandaid on a gaping wound, but it was the world’s coolest, most soothing bandaid, like the ones kids get, decorated with their favorite cartoons.

Somewhere nearby, gravel crunched under heavy steps, and I burrowed deeper into Mafer’s shoulder. Whoever this was, I hoped they would ignore us and walk away. I prayed they would go get lost in the jungle and find a pointy stick to kick around, and perhaps go fuck themselves with. But through the thick strands of Mafer’s raven hair, I saw two muddy boots, stopping right in front of me.

There wasn’t a single person aside from Mafer that could make this moment better rather than worse. I didn’t want to be bothered by anybody.

“I think you forget me, Baby Dog,” mumbled a deep voice. “Now you never come and see me.”

Anybody, except for Oso.

My head jolted up so fast, it bumped against Mafer’s temple. Oso opened his arms wide, and I threw myself into them. He hugged me, and I held him as hard as I could, as if I’d drop dead the second I let go.

“Don’t squeeze too hard, my eyes will explode like popcorn,” he chuckled.

For a moment, everything felt right. The entirety of the cruel world around me disappeared, and it could get sucked into a black hole for all I cared. For this one beautiful instant, all that was left was Oso and Mafer, two people I could trust blindly, the only ones that had never hurt or failed me.

“Why are you crying now?” murmured Oso, flicking a tear off my cheek with the tip of his thumb. “You miss me too much?”

I nodded, and he hugged me tight. I accidentally stepped on his toes, but rather than cry out and push me away, he held me closer and swayed from one foot to the other. It reminded me of one night, half a lifetime ago, when I’d stood on top of my Dad’s shoes and danced in the exact same way, back when I was a child and everything was okay.

“Que pasó? Quien le hizó esto?” he asked.

What happened? Who did this to her?

I don’t know what Mafer said, or if she even answered at all, but Oso’s arms tightened even more.

“What make you happy?” he asked. “I can make joke, sing the song of Pitbull, we can run, we can buy ice cream or cotton sugar.”

“All of that,” I chortled. “I want all of it, minus the running.”

“We can go to San José,” he suggested.

My eyes must have sparkled with excitement, because his face brightened up with a grin.

“Mafer, do you want to come with us?” I asked.

“I don’t think Pablo would let that happen,” she mumbled. “For me or for you.”

“Well, he told me I could go wherever I want as long as I follow protocol,” I shrugged. “And you’re still technically my maid, aren’t you? Which should mean I can decide whether you can come with me or not.”

We quickly decided on a strategy. While Mafer went to change out of her uniform, Oso would fill out the paperwork, and I’d practice my best doe-eyed gaze before I asked Pablo to let me go out for the day, and that he’d be an asshole and a hypocrite if he refused.

As I walked through the hall, a guard warned me that Pablo was looking for me. My brain swung back and forth between thoughts, on the one hand, ′great, so was I’, and on the other, a dreadful ′oh God, what have I done now’.

I made my way to the bedroom, where I had been told I would find him, tension rising with every step.

I found him sitting on the bed, with a bunch of flowers between his hands and a beaming smile on his face.

“These are for you,” he said, as he handed me the bouquet. “I hope you like them.”

“I love them,” I whispered. “What are these for?”

“Just for decoration, I guess?” he murmured, arching one eyebrow. “I don’t know, I thought they looked pretty in your hair yesterday, so I went to pick these this morning. I don’t think I need a reason to give you flowers, do I?”

“No you don’t,” I whispered. “Thank you, Pablo, they’re beautiful.”

He took the flowers from my hands and put them down on the bedside table. His lips dove into the crook of my neck, and his hand under my dress. As Pablo’s fingers dug into the back of my thigh and he pushed me onto the bed, alarms went off in my head.

Easy target, they screamed. He thinks you’re an easy target. He gave me flowers to make me swoon, and now he wants to fuck. Little did he know, I was done being an easy target, and giving a bunch of dead plants tied together with a string was no longer enough to make me open my legs.

“Pablo,” I said, placing my hand on the center of his chest. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Hmm?”

His breaths were hastening, his movements gaining pace, his hands gripping to my hips as I tried to squirm away.

“Can I go to San José?”

“Sure,” he muttered. “We can go later if you want to.”

“I meant now, with Oso, and uh, Mafer,” I mumbled. “Not necessarily with you.”

He rolled off of me and sat up on the bed, grimacing as he readjusted his dick under his jeans.

“Why?” he sighed.

“I just figured you’d be too busy.”

“And you’re going to go there wearing that dress?” he muttered, eyeing me from head to toe. “It’s very short.”

“Yeah, but it has pockets,” I shrugged.

“Why the fuck do you need pockets?”

I rolled my eyes. “Where else would I put all the men I’m going to attract with my very short dress?”

“You can go out on one condition,” he groaned, although a discreet smile drew across his lips. “Make sure your bodyguard shoots every motherfucker who lays his eyes on you.”

“I will. Thank you,” I murmured, as he left a kiss on my jaw, right below my ear.

I smiled as I stood up, but gulped as I left the room. Some men had done worse things than lay their eyes on me, and some of them still hadn’t paid the price Pablo would put on their sins. The chills darting down my spine turned to a snowstorm once I caught myself wondering when was the last time I’d seen Juan.

I reached the front door at the same time the Sandovals walked in, but it was just Hernan and Manée, and the somber looks on both of their faces.

“Where’s Juan?”

Fretful words slipped out of my mouth like a gasp. Their eyes widened and their brows scrunched up, as if I’d just asked them the world’s weirdest question.

“What?” Manée scowled.

Their grim expressions vanished. Perhaps they were just shadows on their features, figments of my imagination, or even a typical example of resting-bitch-faces.

“Hey Em,” Juan’s head peeked around the front door, bags under his eyes and a cigarette between his lips. “What’s up?”

If Pablo hadn’t killed Juan for what he’d done the day before, it was because he didn’t know. But if he was here right now and had seen the way Juan stared at me, his gaze running down my bare legs like molasses, he would have shot him anyway.

“Nothing,” I answered, stumbling over my words and the steps that led down from the front door. “Just wondering. See you.”

I scuttled over to the pick-up truck that had been waiting for me with its engine running, and climbed into the passenger seat before anyone could catch me and tell me anything.

“Be nice to my car,” mumbled Oso as I slammed the door behind me.

“Sorry.”

I looked outside the window, past the back seat and the ecstatic grin on Mafer’s face. Juan was still staring in my direction, and it felt like even San José wasn’t far enough to run away from his awkward glare.

“Let’s go, girls,” said Oso, his deep voice echoed by Shania Twain’s on the radio.

Even the sight of my bodyguard, whose frame made the armored Toyota Escape look like a clown car, singing about how the best thing about being a woman is the prerogative to have a little fun, didn’t evoke more in me than a tight-lipped smile.

Oso frantically pressed the button that opened the passenger-side window, and sighed loudly when I didn’t pop my head outside to feel the wind on my face.

“Baby Dog, do you want a joke?” he chirped.

“Sure.”

“Why does the little girl fall?”

“Why?”

He snorted before he even said the punchline, and took a deep breath to compose himself.

“Because she have no legs.”

Oso wheezed so hard his lung might have collapsed. He slapped the palm of his hand on the steering wheel, accidentally honking the horn, which make him laugh even harder.

“That was awful, Big Puppy.”

He rolled his eyes at me, and a few happy tears fell from their corners.

“Okay, I have a better one,” he said. “What is stupidest animal in the jungle?”

“I don’t know.”

“The polar bear.”

“What?” frowned Mafer.

“The polar bear!” screamed Oso. “Because he is very lost. He does not live in the jungle.”

“Oh my god,” I cackled. “Those are the worst jokes I’ve ever heard.”

“Don’t lie to me, you know it’s funny,” he snickered. “I see your smile, Baby Dog.”

By the time we reached the bustling center of San José, I felt better. The sun was warmer, the colors brighter, and my head finally cleared. There wasn’t even a hint of the smell of lavender floating in the air.

To be surrounded by the town and its people, some hard at work and others lounging by the side of the lake, felt like being on another planet. A better planet, where neither Juan or Pablo existed.

Oso and I bought beers and creme brulée gelatos at a small stand by the side of the lake. Mafer got a lime and orange granita with a funny little paper parasol on top. We sank our feet in the sun-warmed sand, paddled around in the lake’s crystal-clear water, and cried with laughter at Oso’s dumb jokes.

“I have a good one,” I said. “What do you call a fish with no eyes?”

“You cannot call him, because he can not hear,” answered Oso, as he burst out laughing. “Very good joke.”

“I said a fish with no eyes, not no ears.”

“But fish have no ears.”

“Stop ruining my joke, Big Puppy,” I chuckled, kicking the surface of the water to splash his face. “You call it a fsh.”

“Fsh?” Oso repeated. “I don’t understand.”

“A fish with no I’s?” I sighed. “Like, the letter I.”

“My joke is better.”

We playfully punched each other on the shoulders, and I noticed how accustomed I’d grown to violence. Oso’s gun was right there, tucked in the band of his swimming shorts, and I never flinched whenever it peeked through beneath his shirt.

Since I’d been with Pablo, I’d seen awful things and been through worse ones, I’d found myself too many times on the wrong side of a gun. Violence was everywhere, on every guard, in every holster, in every head, and looming around every corner.

I was glad to be far away from that, even just for a few hours. I felt safer alone with Oso and Mafer, and I really needed that break and peace of mind.

The fact that Oso was one of the only men in San José with a gun made it even better, for not a single man dared to stare at me or my legs. Although we were loud, boisterous, and perhaps a little obnoxious, I felt like I was standing on top of the world. I was anything but an easy target.

After all this sunlight and emotions, my throat began to itch for another drink.

“Hey Dad can we–” I began to say, but an overwhelming shame stopped me. “Fuck, I need to stop calling you that.”

“Never stop, Baby Dog,” Oso grinned, before pointing at Mafer. “We are Mom and Dad.”

“Mafer can’t be my Mom, she’s younger than me,” I chortled.

“How old?”

“Twenty-one,” she replied.

“Already?” I frowned. “Did I miss your birthday?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t that long ago,” she shrugged with a sweet smile. “It doesn’t matter, don’t worry.”

“Uh, yes it does,” I cried out. “We have to celebrate.”

“We can have a party in my favorite restaurant,” said Oso. “It is very close to here.”

“I can pay,” I added. “With Pablo’s credit card.”

We had our meal in that restaurant, a quaint wooden shack on top of a jetty that stretched out onto the lake. We ordered a bucket of cold beers, and shared three plates of fried fish and rice, jumbo shrimp drenched in garlic butter, and a massive bowl of ceviche. Oso ate most of the food, I drank most of the beers.

For dessert, we got one of the waiters to bring out a small cake for Mafer’s birthday. I ordered angel’s food, because I thought it was fitting for Mafer, but it turned out to be a regular sponge cake with strawberry syrup and a single candle on top.

Nonetheless, we sang ‘Happy Birthday’, Oso taught me how to say it in Spanish, but then explained he was just singing about how much he wanted to eat cake.

We chatted for a little, watching the birds as they flew low on the surface of the lake. We told each other about how we had been doing, catching up on all the small talk we’d missed out on during these past few days. Well, Oso and I did. Mafer kept staring at her phone.

“Who are you texting?” I asked.

She blushed, and quickly hid her phone beneath the table.

“Is it your boyfriend?” I smirked.

“Mafer, you have a boyfriend?” frowned Oso.

“Yes she does,” I giggled. “And I think I know who he is.”

Her lips parted, her eyes widened, and her cheeks turned a dark shade of purple.

“I don’t think you know him, Emilia,” she chuckled softly.

“Is it José Galdámez?”

Oso burst out in bellowing laughter, and Mafer all but choked on a small piece of cake.

“Very good one, Baby Dog,” Oso guffawed. “I think that is the best joke ever.”

“I mean you did say your boyfriend’s name was José,” I muttered. “I don’t see what’s so crazy about it.”

“José Galdámez, the friend of Pablo? Big businessman?” Oso kept on wheezing. “He will never date a girl like Mafer.”

Mafer stayed quiet and tight-lipped, wiggling around on her seat and fidgeting with the napkin she’d neatly folded over her knees. The sad look on her face thrummed on my heartstrings with a painful note.

“That’s a bit rude, Oso,” I mumbled. “Don’t make fun of her.”

She smiled a little, and soon we decided it was time to go home. The sun was almost down, dark clouds were rolling in, and there was a party at Pablo’s that night I was supposed to be attending.

“Mafer, about earlier, and the boyfriend thing,” I whispered on our way back to the car. “I’m sorry if I said anything–”

“Don’t worry,” she said with a warming grin. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“So it isn’t him?” I asked. “Because he is pretty handsome.”

“No, no it isn’t,” she chuckled. “My José is even better.”

I smiled back at her. “I’d really like to meet him, one day. He sounds amazing.”

“Soon, maybe,” she answered dreamily, before she cleared her throat. “But, just to be safe, I think it’s best if you don’t tell anyone about my boyfriend. Some maids have gotten in trouble before for stuff like that.”

“Oh, got it,” I breathed. “I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

She turned around, and I let out the grimace I’d been holding back. I’d been awful at keeping my mouth shut, and had told quite a few people about Mafer’s boyfriend. I even had a blurry memory of a party where I told someone I’d never met that my maid was ‘basically relationship goals’ and sort of made up that her boyfriend was a ‘successful philanthropist’.

I quickly got my mind off of it as we belted out the words to our favorite songs on the entire trip home. All in all, this had been a great day. My mind was empty, my belly was full, my skin was sun-kissed and my spirits were lifted.

I headed up to the bedroom to go change into a new dress, and check on the pretty flowers I’d left on the bedside table. With me and Mafer gone for the afternoon, I doubted anyone at home would have had the foresight to find them a nice vase and put them in water.

I pushed the door to the bedroom. The flowers were still strewn on the night table, and Pablo was sitting on the bed, with his eyes rolled back, and his mouth half open.

My heart dropped in my chest.

Pablo’s pants were around his ankles, and a young blonde girl’s head was between his legs.

Easy Target

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