Page 2 of El Malo

“My sweet Rosie Bear,” Mamá whispers against my hair, her hand sliding from my mouth. “Be a good girl. I love you.”

I can hear screams within the restaurant but aside from some shuffling, the kitchen is quiet. Those bad men finally left.

“Mamá,” I whisper. “They’re gone.”

But Mamá is so protective, she keeps me smashed to the floor under her weight. Maybe her butt is going to be the size of Texas soon because she is heavy.

“Mamá!” I cry out. “Move, Mamá!”

She doesn’t move. She doesn’t speak. I squirm out from beneath her and my eyes land on Ana. She’s on the ground, a pool of blood around her body. Her arm lies twisted out in front of her, my bracelet I gave her soaking up blood. Everything is broken around me.

“Mamá!” I scream. “They hurt Ana!”

Mamá doesn’t care. She’s sleeping and I need her to be awake. I shove her over onto her back.

Blood.

Blood.

Blood.

No, Mamá, no.

“No!” I wail. “No!”

Bright red blooms of blood cover her shirt like big roses in several spots. She’s been shot all over her chest. Her eyes that always twinkle with delight are open but dulled. Mamá’s mouth is parted and unmoving.

My mother is not dead.

She is not dead.

“Mamá!”

She. Is. Not. Dead.

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