BAE BOY

2-15

When the clouds started to get real dark and heavy looking, and we could smell the rain coming, we headed on back to what the locals just called The Barbecue.

It was this big barn that had been converted into a two-story party space, and there were big old barbecue pits of every kind imaginable out back of it.

Inside the barn there were picnic tables, a huge bar and a big old dance floor. And upstairs there was some sort of banquet type of area, but when there wasn't any banquet going on you could just go play pool and other games up there. Or watch TV. It was almost a sports bar.

Behind that, up a little hill, was this nice cabin where the family and their guests could go to get away from the pachanga for a while. That's where we were headed until Duke got called over to survey all the big slabs of cow and pig on the pits.

There weren't any women around yet, just guys throwing more wood on the fires and sipping Modelo while they kept an eye on those fires and the food that was roasting on it.

"Killed the fatted calf," Duke said.

"C'mon, man. This isn't all about me, right?"

He laughed and said, "Not this time. Ropin' competition later. Big one. Cause the weather made a mess of the arena they usually use."

"You're feedin' everybody?"

"Contestants and staff and their people, we will. Locals'll put up booths and all for the spectators."

"My uncle used to do that out at his place. Ropin' and all that. High school kids, mostly."

"Your area, Marana, they've got a whole buncha good kids now. Every weekend, there's a coupla winners from over that way on TV, too. Makin' quite a name for themselves."

One of the guys brought over some slices of brisket on a paper plate. It was melt in your mouth, overnight cooked tender and juicy.

Duke took a bite and nodded and said, "Damn, that's good! Save that one there, wouldja?"

And the guy gave us a proud grin and said, "Si, Jefe," and then nodded to me and said, "Jefito," as he was leaving.

"I can't get used to that," I told Duke.

"What, that nickname they call you?"

"It's okay when someone's joking around, but I know they're not."

"Here's the thing. If they do start jokin' around with it, you're done here. And I know that won't set well with you, but it's the truth. Because even the old families will expect you to be respected in that way. Not like some kinda slave owner, but just...it's how they see things."

"Yeah...I dunno. I'm 19, you know?"

"Yeah, but the head man is the head man. And when he stops acting like one or lets somebody else act like they're more the head man than he is, it'll be like in school when the kids start talkin' back to the teacher. You can't ever get that respect back."

"Some teachers let their kids use their first names." Another Wyatt thing...

"Well, some of 'em prob'ly can. The good ones. But a good teacher sets boundaries in a way that makes the kids feel safer. Kids don't respect the ones that can't do that. And it's the same here. Remember, Spanish has familiar and formal pronouns, even. It's built into the language to address people differently according to whether you know them well or they're in a position of power."