Illegal

FIFTY-SIX

Payne downshifted as the Mustang climbed toward the peak of the Tejon Pass, a slash in the mountains that separated the Mojave Desert from the San Joaquin Valley. Road signs warned drivers to turn off their A/C, for fear of overheating.

Jimmy and Tino were headed north through the Los Angeles National Forest toward the town of Rutledge in Kings County, home of the far-flung empire of Simeon Rutledge. They had begun the day below sea level in the desert. Now, they ascended to over 4,000 feet, the temperature dropping 35 degrees. Tino began to shiver. He declined Payne's offer to put the top up and sat quietly while the radio filled the car with the throbbing guitars and hoarse voices of the Gipsy Kings playing "Pasajero."

They passed a lake, far below them in a valley, boats stirring up foamy wakes. Tino barely seemed to notice.

"Everything okay, kid?"

"Sure, Himmy."

Payne tried to decipher the boy's serious look. Nothing apparent, but consider the last few days. Back home, Tino had stabbed his mother's abusive and dangerous boss, who then threatened to cut the boy's heart out. He'd run from the cops in Van Nuys and rescued Payne from the sheriff's deputy along the highway. Then the run-in with El Tigre and the horrors of two stash houses. He'd heard how his mother fought off a rapist at the slaughterhouse. Just this morning, he'd escaped a pedophile ex-con and been shot at by a pint-size cowboy.

Not exactly the problems of kids from Bel-Air or Beverly Hills. Missing a goal in soccer practice or losing the debate tournament doesn't measure up.

"What are you thinking about, kid?"

"Back at the chicken ranch, when Chitwood started shooting, why'd you jump on top of me?"

Payne shrugged. "If anyone was gonna take a bullet, I wanted it to be me."

"Because you're a valiente."

"It doesn't need a name. It's just what a man does."

"A man does it for his own hijo. But you did it for someone who's not your own blood, and that makes you a valiente."

"If you say so, kiddo."

Tino squinted into the windstream, then blurted out, "You think mi mami 's pretty?"

"From the picture, muy bonita. Why?"

"Maybe if Sharon marries that cabron Quinn, and you like mi mami, you can marry her."

"You left something out, kid. Your mother would have to like me, too."

"She will," Tino said. "She's never met a man like you."