CigarBox

The newlyweds sped towards San Antonio all during the night, and neared the old town about eleven o’clock the next day. They came down Interstate 10 and entered the city from the western side. Taking the Broadway Street exit, Mike piloted his truck to the Marriott on the River Walk. This hotel positioned itself on the walkway in the center of downtown with a commanding view of both the walk, and the city. It was literally a stone’s throw from the Alamo, and even had helicopter service to the San Antonio airport.

This was June’s very first trip to any city of size. She’d seen El Paso once, but only to pass through it for gasoline with Ray, on their way back from one of his repair jobs that he’d contracted in New Mexico. This was the first time she had actually set foot into a metropolis. The hotel overwhelmed her and in her darling accent she gasped and looked at the lobby and exclaimed, “Oh, Mike, My Ah’s just can’t behold it all!”

If June was beautiful as a girl, she was enchanting as a wife. She seemed to have relaxed a bit, even gaining a little height as she walked, holding herself up proudly because now she was a citizen of the Bend, with all of its rank and privilege. She really didn’t understand credit cards, but Mike gave her money, which she stuffed into the pocket of her jeans. Angie had given her the jeans. They were “501’s.” To compliment them Angie had given her a pair of red Justin boots. June had never owned a pair of “501’s,” and had only seen Justin’s in store windows, and now she owned a pair of each! When she took the boots from the box in her room at the hotel she put the leather up to her face and just inhaled for the longest time. Then, she slipped them onto her tiny feet. Angie had gotten it just right! She’d fitted June’s clothes and boots as if she’d been shopping for herself! It totally amazed June how she’d done that.

She and Mike stayed in the room until about six in the evening, and then ventured out to see the “Walk.” The River Walk in San Antonio is truly a romantic spot. It’s old world flavor, combined with the big city rush above produced an effect equaled nowhere in the world. Mike took her down to the Casa Rio, where he had eaten many times before; where his mother had eaten with his stepfather, and his stepfather’s mother had eaten in 1939 to commemorate her high school graduation. They sat out on the river at a table. No one who is anyone eats inside the café. As they ate their chips and dip the ever-present pigeons came and bummed chips from them, and they fed the birds in spite of the warning of signs around the café about feeding the birds.

The meal consisted of the usual Mexican fare. Actually, the food at the Casa Rio is standard Mexican, with no surprises, but the atmosphere of the River Walk makes it special. June knew her Mexican food, and devoured all the enchiladas, tortillas, and tamales with zest, gulping her iced tea like a field hand while Mike watched in mild amusement. Then two mariachis came to the table.

“Would you like to hear something?”

June looked up in surprise, “You mean you play in right here, on those fat guitars?”

The old Mexican laughed at the little country girl, and replied, “Si, Senorita. We play for you. Whatever you want to hear.”

“I don’t know any Mexican songs, but I just got married, so could you play a newlywed song?”
The old man looked in amazement, “You are a senora? Si, Si, we’ll play a nice wedding song for you.”

They played a romantic ballad, all in Spanish for the pair as June glowed. When the song was finished, Mike whispered into her ear, “Pay them.”

She turned, “Pay them?”

“Pay them. Give them some money. This is what they do for a living.”

“Oh, ok.” She reached into her jean pocket and pulled out a five-dollar bill and handed it to the oldest man.

“Gracias,” he said and then, tipping his hat to the lady he turned and left, going to find another table audience to perform for.

June watched as they moved away from her table. “Mike, I never thought life could be this nice. I must be dreaming.”

She looked surprised, “You really love me!” It was not a question, but a statement of something she’d only just discovered

Mike took her hand, “No, June, I’m the one who’s dreaming. I’m with an angel, and I never want to wake up.”

Mike looked at her in utter amazement, “Of course I love you. What made you think I didn’t love you?”

“Mike, no one’s ever loved me. I’ve always felt that no one cared. When I married you, I did it because I loved you, but I really didn’t expect you to really love me back.”

Mike was just discovering the complexity of his new bride. June hid behind a wall of insecurity, and it all stemmed from a myth she called “Real Daddy,” who drifted in and out of memory. He was a man, larger than life, faceless and mysterious. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Ray, but she looked nothing like him, and he was more like a friend than a father. He was a good friend, but a friend nonetheless. Her real father, on the other hand, had acquired the stuff that legends are made of. She knew he worked in Las Vegas, so that made him a character of myth, more than a man. Her mother had told her the story hundreds of times about how he’d come to town, playing poker with the ranchers, and cleaning them all out until he had to leave town in the middle of the night, but not before becoming June’s father. Barbara had told her the story countless times, each time adding more and more details as the myth grew in both their minds. Knowing he worked in Vegas she imagined he had to be dashing, and well dressed, not bent, tired, and sweaty, wearing that silly floppy hat that Ray wore every day of his life. Real Daddy was a hero. Real Daddy was a “man’s man” with a Derringer hidden in his boot, and an Ace up his sleeve, and Real Daddy never called, never wrote, and never sent a check! He was too cool. She vowed that one day she would go to Vegas and find Real Daddy. He would be proud of her now that she was of the Bend. She’d made up for the mistake her mother had obviously made to loose such a man as Real Daddy!

“Well, I do love you. I love you more every minute. I’ll never be apart from you.” As Mike spoke, he noticed that June’s thoughts seemed to be somewhere else, but no matter, her body was here, and it was beautiful! Under the multi-colored lights of the River Walk, she was positively stunning. Mike could not help but notice the admiring looks given by men as they passed the table, some even looking back for a second time! In all of his life, ever since he could remember, Buddy had bested him in every way imaginable. He could never best him here! June was something Buddy didn’t have, and she was all Mike’s!

They finished their food and went walking around the river. The multi-colored lights enhanced the mood, and the moist tropical air intoxicated her as they moved along through the crowds. They moved back toward the hotel, and then went past it to the other Marriott that was situated just across Commerce Street from the one that had their room. There was a mall here and she went in, fascinated by the stores. Going into the large department store at one end of the mall, she came around a corner and confronted the escalator.

“Mike, I’ve never seen one of these.”

He laughed, “You never seen an escalator? C’mon. You have seen one before.”

She looked at him angrily, “How many two story buildings we got back home?”

He realized she was right. There were no two- story buildings in their town save the homes at the Bend, and they didn’t have escalators. She gingerly stepped forward and put her tiny foot on it, but then quickly withdrew it and giggled.

“Will it grab me?”

“No, here watch.” Mike stepped forward in confidence and stood on the moving stairs as they took him to the second floor of the store. “Now you.”

She looked at the steps all-moving and in one brave moment, she leaped upon them, grasping the rail and began to ride, teetering, all the way to the top. She sighted the stepping off point precisely, and at the opportune moment, she sprung form the steps into the waiting arms of her husband. She laughed, and said, “Wanna do it again!” At that, she went to the down escalator and rode down and then back up. This she did about five times before she figured she’d mastered “escalator-riding,” and was ready to move on to her next project.

They went from there to an ice cream shop and bought cones, even though they’d just eaten. Then they walked the short distance to the Alamo, which was situated just a little off the walk but within a city block of it. She’d only seen the Alamo in books, and a John Wayne Movie, but this building impressed her. It was closed now, but the tourists were still milling about. The old mission was lit with lights from all angles and it cast a romantic mood over the entire area.