Twisted Cross

“What have you ever done except follow me around?” Sal said. “I always protect you and figure out our plans.” Sal peered into the crowd looking for opportunities for easy profits.

   “Who would you kick around if not me?” Blas said. “I’m the one who got us on the galleon with the Franciscans.” He eased toward the edge of the buckboard, ready for Sal’s temper to flare. “I even got us jobs and our food. You’re beginning to remind me of your dad, the drunkard.”

   Sal threw a wild punch. Blas made a quick move to protect himself. “Cállate, shut your mouth. Enough of this,” Sal said. “Tell Brother David…,”

   “Tell your own lies,” Blas said. He held his ground. “Okay, you’re the hero. Bueno, go ahead and find the silver.”

   “I found it already,” Sal said. They both stopped to look into the crowd of shoppers. “See the chica, that girl over there?” Sal pointed to a young woman in the market with a basket of flowers on her head—her two silver earrings flashed in the sunlight.