Manumission (Rudy and Mayra)

Rudy parked his beat up, black roller suitcase outside his third quincalla of the morning. He pulled out his flip cell phone from his guayabera pocket and pressed number 1.
"Really? Really? Really?" Even before Mayra spoke, from the way she exhaled loudly, Rudy felt her annoyance like a blow. He pictured her shaking her head, her long jet black hair with its lunar de canas waving. He pictured her scrunching up her face, making her full lips into a thin, hard line, setting her jaw. He pictured the way she got ugly when she thought of him. "This is the third time you call me this morning. Basta ya. Enough."
Rudy pushed back his long wavy gray hair, straightened his glasses, and shivered. "What can I do? I'm feeling betrayed. Do you hear me? You won't hear me. Everything's different. You're different."
"Really, Rudy? I'm different. Well, you're the same. Always away. You're away three weeks of every month and everything's the same with me. I'm stuck here in this almacen, day in day out. Just me, the boxes, all the stuff in the world, and the phone..."
"You, the phone, and Rolo."
"Oh really, Rudy..."
He screamed. He shook. It took all his strength not to smash the phone. He didn't smash it because it was his only link to Mayra. "I'm not a fool. I'm not an old fool."
"Entre Rolo y yo no hay nada. Nothing. There's nothing between Rolo and me."
Rudy said nothing. He waited for Mayra to confess. The silence went on and yet neither of them hung up the phone, or broke down and spoke.
He heard Mayra exhale loudly again. "I've been waiting for my manumission, for you to set me free, Rudy. But now I see it's up to me. Mayra slowly closed her tiny phone, identical to Rudy's. They were on the same plan. She looked around her at the shelves on each of the four walls of the almacen. Their warehouse held box upon box of hair barrettes, colored pencils, scissors, spools of thread, puzzles, hairbrushes, balloons. All the stuff on earth, everything anyone could ever want to buy in a quincalla.
She sat on her stool. Her tears began in her belly, and rose up, a lava of tears and rage.
Rolo pushed open the door and let in a flood of noon sunlight. He'd come for the shipment of mugs Mayra had just packed for the farmacia de Coral. Rudy had called the order in first thing this morning. Rolo wore a tight t-shirt pasted to his strong chest by sweat. He'd been packing the van most of the morning for a run to the post office. This morning he'd shown up for work with the tips of his long dreadlocks bleached bright yellow. "You've been crying." He moved toward her, with his arms out. He was almost twenty years younger than she was and he liked to say he loved her. But in the bright sunlight she could see his unlined, beautiful, blue black face and she just couldn't believe him. He brought his face closer, pushed his lips toward hers. She pushed him away.
"I wish that you knew what it means to be free." He half hummed the words into her ear.
She reached into the top drawer of her high desk. She pulled out a ring with three keys. She put the keys into his hand. "These are the keys to the almacen. You know the business. My half of it is yours. You and Rudy que se las arreglen."
She grabbed her bag and walked toward the open door. As she strode into the light she called back, "Maybe I do know what it means to be free." She walked out. She had no idea where she was going.