Blood Game by Ed Gorman Page B

time he ever saw her.
    â€œGo play,” his grandmother said.
    The boy vanished.
    The grandmother was scarcely five feet tall. She had skin the color of coffee and eyes the color of a midnight sky. She wore a loose-fitting white dress and sandals. She came over and sat on the couch, careful not to wrinkle the new yellow spread when she sat down.
    â€œI do not want you to go,” she said.
    â€œI have already told him I will.”
    â€œIt does not matter, Teresa, what you told him.”
    â€œHe is expecting me.”
    â€œYour children are expecting you.”
    â€œThey love you. They will be happy you are around them.”
    â€œCan you imagine what the priest will say?”
    â€œHe will say nothing to me.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œVictor does not believe in priests. He does not want me to see the priest.”
    â€œIt’s terrible what you do.”
    â€œIt’s not. I will lose my looks in a few years. Then I will have only regrets.”
    â€œI have had three daughters.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd I should be thankful.”
    â€œThankful, yes. For our good health.”
    â€œAnd for one other thing, too.”
    â€œWhat?”
    There was craft and malice in the old woman’s gaze. “Only one of them turned out to be a whore.”
    Teresa flushed. “You do not understand.”
    â€œYou think I was not young once, Teresa, as you are young—and beautiful, as you are beautiful?”
    â€œIt is different in the modem world, Mama.”
    â€œHe made you take down the picture of the Virgin?” “Yes.”
    â€œAnd he does not want you to see a priest?”
    â€œNo, he does not want me to see a priest.”
    â€œAnd he wants you to leave your children?”
    Teresa said nothing. She did not want to be called a whore again.
    â€œDoes this not tell you about the man, Teresa? About what is in this man’s heart?”
    â€œHe’s a good man.”
    â€œIn bed he may be good. No other place.”
    â€œWe will be back often.”
    â€œYou don’t really believe that. I can see the lie in your face, Teresa.” She wrung her brown hands. “You are so stupid.”
    â€œHe loves me.”
    The old woman scoffed. “He puts gaudy dresses on your back. He makes you promises. He puts his seed in you. These things are not love.”
    â€œHe said we will live in a fine house in St. Louis.”
    â€œYou are forgetting your cousin Donna.”
    At mention of the name, Teresa lowered her head. “He is not like the man Donna was with.”
    â€œOh, no? And what makes him different, Teresa? What makes him different?”
    â€œVictor is a man of honor.”
    â€œSo was her man until he got tired of her. And do you remember what he did then?”
    â€œPlease. You know how I hate to talk about it.”
    â€œHe threw fire in her face so that she would be in agony and no other man would ever want her. He could not even give her the rest of her life, a chance to live well without him. He would not even do this much for her. So he burned her.”
    â€œPlease.”
    â€œDo you know how she lives today?”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œShe lives in the cellar of her parents’ basement because she looks so horrible that no one can stand to set eyes on her.”
    â€œHe is not like this.”
    â€œOh, no. He is a most honorable man. He makes you take down the picture of the Virgin, and he persuades you to leave your children.”
    She got up and walked across the room to where Teresa sat in a chair. She slapped her very hard across the side of the face.
    Teresa began sobbing.
    â€œBecause he puts his seed in you does not mean he loves you, Teresa.”
    The old woman shook her head sadly, then went out the door and down the steps to play with her grandchildren in the sunlight.

Chapter Twenty
    The referee was a man named Macatee. Stoddard had requested a man named Simek but Simek was