Page 30 of Pax

“What can I get you folks to drink?” he asked.

“Just sparkling water for me with a lime, please,” said Deanna.

“I’ll have a beer, anything on draft,” nodded Pax. He wasn’t worried about one beer with Christopher and Patrick sitting at the bar. When the waiter left, he sent a text to the two men, and they both nodded, knowing they would try to speak him as well.

A little while later, he returned, taking their dinner order and apologizing again for the slow service.

“Shorthanded tonight?” asked Pax.

“Yes, sir. I’m doing double duty. I’ve got the patio and the bar to wait on tonight. Most folks are pretty nice about it. It’s too pretty to complain about a little wait.”

“Juan? I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable earlier today,” said Deanna.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, ma’am. I was worried for you. Asking questions around here about the boats sinking isn’t a good thing.”

“Is someone watching you?” asked Pax.

“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m staying on the island for the next few days because I’ve got so many back-to-back shifts. Lots of people are calling in sick, afraid to come across the border. Afraid for their families.”

“Are they choosing people randomly? Approaching them?” asked Pax.

“No. If you want to come across the border illegally, there is always someone willing to do it for a price. People in the cities know not to trust the coyotes, but the people on the farms, those further south, aren’t as aware of how all this happens.”

“Hey! Can I get another beer or what?” yelled one of the young men at the bar.

“Sorry, I’ll be back.”

He raced behind the bar, and Pax looked at Christopher and Patrick, itching for a fight with the loud-mouthed young man. There were three sitting together, all with placards around their necks, designating which conference they were attending.

It happened all too frequently in this area. San Diego was a hot spot for conferences and conventions. People loved coming because of the weather but often took advantage of being away from home, acting like fools. These men were about to find out that behaving like a fool wasn’t healthy for them.

“Sorry, sirs. As I mentioned earlier, I’m the only one working the patio and bar tonight.” He took their glasses and brought them fresh drinks. One of the men gripped his wrist, holding him firmly.

“Speed it up next time, or you’ll be going back across the border the hard way.” He pulled his hand free, staring at the men. Then, slowly smiled. “What are you smiling at, you Mexican trash?”

“Apologize,” said Christopher, standing over his shoulder. The twins were both six-foot-four, bulky and fierce. “I said, apologize.”

“Fuck off, dude. It’s not your business,” he smirked. “Besides, you’re outnumbered.”

“I could be alone,dude, and I wouldn’t be outnumbered.” The man spun around on his stool, staring at the two identical figures in front of him. His friends turned, and both shook their heads.

“Leave it alone, Jay. The guy’s doing the best he can.”

“Yeah, Jay. He’s doing the best he can,” said Patrick.

“Let me guess. You two are some of the murdering, baby-killing SEALs on the island that think your shit doesn’t stink,” said Jay.

“Oh, no. I know my shit stinks. See, it’s a chemical reaction with what you digest, both food and liquid,” said Patrick. The man’s face scrunched into lack of understanding, and Patrick just shook his head.

“Apologize to Juan,” said Christopher, “or you’re going to leave now.”

He was thinking long and hard about whether to apologize and then finally turned around and faced the bartender.

“Sorry.”

“Thank you,” said Juan.

“Let’s go,” said Jay’s friends. He dropped a hundred-dollar bill on the counter and grabbed their friend, heading out of the restaurant. As they left, the restaurant manager came behind the bar.

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