Five Midnights

by Ann Dávila Cardinal

But he couldn’t make the scream leave his mind and go to his mouth.

  The eyes were right in front of his now; Izzy could see and feel the yellow gaze as if it were heat, and he thought again of his father’s ski jacket.

  He was afraid.

  So afraid.

  Dad! I’m afraid!

  He reached out, drawing closer to the yellow, wanting to catch his father, to grab his yellow jacket, pull him closer. He felt a tightening around his body. Was it his father? It was getting harder and harder to draw a breath in the deep cold of the New England air.

  In the distance Izzy could hear the squealing of tires, the opening of car doors … pulling on his legs, pulling him down, back toward the ground, toward earth. None of that mattered anymore, because not only was the pull from above stronger, he found he wanted to go. He could almost touch his father’s jacket, if he could just reach a bit farther.…

  July 9, 1:16 A.M.

  Lupe

  LUPE WAS SITTING wedged between the cushions of the bamboo couch while a ridiculous variety show in Spanish featuring a filthy-minded clown blathered on TV. After Javier left there was no way she was going to fall back to sleep, so she had grabbed the remote, craving the noisy company of the idiot box. She’d been texting Izzy for hours, but midnight had come and gone with no response. Her aunt was asleep, her uncle had still not come home, and she had no vehicle.

  She’d never felt more helpless.

  Lupe was about to snap off the TV and head upstairs when the doorbell rang. The doorbell? At this hour? As she stood staring at the door wondering what to do, her aunt came racing down the stairs, tying her robe sash, her movements quick and jerky, her eyebrows knitted together.

  This couldn’t be good.

  Was it Izzy?

  Oh God, it was Izzy.

  Lupe froze when she saw the uniformed man behind the door, her dinner pushing against the back of her throat.

  The police wouldn’t come here for Izzy. There would have been a phone call from Maria’s sister. Right?

  No.

  Just, no.

  She couldn’t understand what they were saying; it was as if every Spanish word had left her brain. She heard the name “Isadore” but there was way too much mention of her uncle.

  Then her aunt was yelling. “I need to see him. Now!” She was grabbing her purse and keys, still in her silky white robe.

  “Vamos, Lupe!” she barked, pushing the officer out of the way as she made her way to the cruiser parked out front, its blue lights pulsating over the houses across the street.

  Lupe ran, following her aunt down the pathway. She knew she should ask Maria what happened, but she was afraid she couldn’t handle the response, afraid she would sit down on the sidewalk and never get up. The day had been a bad dream but she had a feeling the nightmare was just beginning. She was still worried about Izzy, but this was her uncle, her rock, the one sensible adult in her life.

  As the police car pulled out, she heard the officer radioing in that they were heading to Doctors’ Center Hospital with Chief Dávila’s wife and niece.

  The hospital.

  Tío Esteban in the hospital.

  Lupe couldn’t imagine her broad-chested, 6'4" uncle as anything but invincible. The idea that he could be hurt—or, God forbid, killed—made her feel actual physical pain in her chest. Though she often thought of herself as an orphan, thanks to her mother’s booking on her and her father’s retreat into the bottom of a Bacardi bottle, without Esteban she truly would be orphaned. She tried not to projectile vomit all over the bulletproof plastic wall that separated them from the policeman in front.

  The car jolted to a stop in front of the emergency room at Doctors’ Center Hospital, and her aunt was out the door before Lupe could even reach the handle. She hustled to follow Maria through the automatic glass doors. “Esteban Dávila?” her aunt barked at the first staff member she came to, who pointed down the hall, and Maria was off.

  Lupe saw her aunt turn into a room just ahead, and Lupe paused for a moment. What if he was really hurt?

  She doubled over, wrapped her arms around her stomach as the hospital hummed around her. Her breathing was coming in fast and shallow and the hallway started to spin around her.

  No. Tío didn’t need her to lose it. That was way too selfish and he was never selfish. She stood upright and sprinted to follow where her aunt had gone.

  Tío’s massive figure was perched on the edge of a hospital bed, bandages circling his neck and an IV running out of his arm. Lupe let go a breath she’d been holding since the doorbell rang. Okay. He was hurt, but sitting. He looked tired, but he looked like her uncle.

  Tía was holding his hand in hers and when he saw Lupe he smiled, his mustache lifting with the corners of his mouth. All the tension left her body in a wave.

  Maria gently pulled down the bandages and both women gasped at the angry red ring, blood drying in patches, the deep purple bruising blossoming around his neck like a collar.

  “Ay, papi, you scared me to death!”

  Lupe felt tears well in her own eyes as her aunt readjusted the bandages.

  His eyes caught Lupe’s in their special tractor-beam gaze. “And you, sobrina, were you worried about your old uncle?” He was smiling at her, but she could see something underneath. Something else was wrong.

  Lupe’s mouth pulled into a tight smile. “Nah, I knew you got this.”

  His smile faded. “It seems I should listen to you more often.”

  And then the other shoe dropped.

  Her aunt looked into Esteban’s eyes and asked a one-word question. “Isadore?”

  Lupe saw him swallow and even before he shook his head, she knew. She dropped into the chair at the foot of the bed.

  It had happened after all.

  Izzy was gone.

  Esteban held his wife as she sobbed for her nephew, his glassy gaze catching Lupe’s, a silent nod as if to ask if she was okay.

  Lupe swallowed and nodded back. She realized he was the only person with whom she communicated without words. The thought gave her some warmth despite the chill of the night.

  Oh Izzy.

  Oh God.

  “He didn’t even get to see eighteen years, mi amor! What will I say to my sister?”

  Lupe’s throat tightened at her aunt’s pain.

  Maria wiped away her tears, and pulled herself up. “Lo siento, mi amor. Enough selfishness, you’re hurt.”

  Esteban took her face in his hands. “Querida, there isn’t a selfish bone in your body.” She kissed his hands then began clucking about his injuries, checking the bandages and trying to convince him to lie down. Lupe could see scrapes on his arms and more bruises on his ankles, calves.

  Esteban was brushing off his wife’s concerned hovering, forcing her fussing hands into his own. “I’m okay, really. I hurt most from the fall to the sidewalk.”

  Lupe couldn’t stand it anymore, she had to know. “Were you there? What happened to Izzy? And what the hell happened to your neck?”

  Maria gasped again. “Ay, Lupe! Give your tío a chance to breathe!”

  Her uncle drew in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, like he was resigned to something. “Ay, Maria, querida, can you get me some ice chips? My teeth cut through my lip when I fell and my mouth is on fire.”

  Lupe’s aunt patted his hand. “Seguro, my love, of course.” And she turned toward the door.

  Then stopped.

  She looked back at both of them with narrowed eyes, and noticed the half-full cup of ice chips on the table near the bed. She crossed her arms and stared at Esteban. “You two can discuss whatever you were going to discuss with me here.” She pointed at the ground with her manicured index finger. “This is my family, too, and you will not exclude me. If you haven’t figured it out yet, Esteban Dávila, I don’t need protecting.”

  Esteban sighed, then gave his wife a heartbreaking smile.

  Forget romance novels, sonnets, the smile they shared was the best representation
of love Lupe had ever seen. He loved what made his wife strong. Maria sat down next to her husband and hugged him. Lupe sat down next to them on the bed, the springs’ metallic creaking in response, and the three of them held one another.

  Maria sat up, wiped her eyes, and said, “Bueno. What really happened?”

  Lupe sat with her back bolt upright, ready to take the blow she instinctively knew was coming.

  “It started the other day. I couldn’t stop thinking about when you asked, ‘What if the other two boys are in danger?’ after we left the coffee shop. In my heart I knew you were right, that Isadore could be next and could be in trouble, so I grabbed Ramirez and we went to find him. When he wasn’t at his house, we interviewed some of his less-than-savory friends. He’d been clean for a few months, he was telling the truth about that.” He turned to Maria. “He was trying to turn his life around, they said, but there had been some commotion at The Factory in El Norte earlier in the evening.”

  Lupe stared at the floor. Were they responsible for Izzy getting hurt? If they hadn’t gone to Ángel’s apartment, would he still be alive? The one thing she was sure about was that now was not the time to admit to her aunt and uncle that she’d been there.

  “Turns out the kid who was there when Guillermo was killed, Ángel Sanchez, it was his apartment and he’d talked to Izzy. We’d questioned him about the murders, but the kid was basically comatose, had been since he’d seen Guillermo killed. Witnesses say he said something to Izzy that upset him, something about being cursed. There was an argument, a fire broke out, and Izzy got a bag of heroin and works from a junkie at the party. I was praying he didn’t use them. Even after all these years, I still hope that some of these kids will get out of the life.” He patted Maria’s hand. “And Izzy is … was familia.”

  Lupe pictured Izzy’s face right after the alarm and sprinklers went off. He had looked resigned. She fought to keep her eyes from filling.

  “Detective Ramirez and I jumped in the car and started to drive around the streets, hoping to find him, hoping it wasn’t too late. We stopped by your sister’s house, but she hadn’t seen him. And then, a few blocks from his house, I saw…”

  Lupe was breathless, waiting for her uncle’s next words.

  “What? What did you see?” Maria’s voice was thin and tight.

  “I’m not sure what I saw, but there was Isadore, hanging from a fire escape on the darkened street, his feet dangling. I yanked the car over onto the sidewalk, leapt out of the car, and grabbed on to his legs to pull him down.”

  Lupe shook her head. This didn’t make sense. “Wait, he hanged himself?”

  “No, no.”

  Maria pulled at his shirt. “What was he hanging by?”

  Lupe’s heart was banging like it wanted out.

  “It was—ay, I don’t know. It sounds completamente loco.”

  “What was it?” Both women were yelling now.

  Her uncle rubbed his face from top to bottom as if to erase the memory, the clear tubes winding down his hairy arms. “It makes no sense. All I saw were shadows wrapping around him. It was night and hard to see clearly, but there something huge in the dark and it seemed to have hold of him. I could only see Isadore’s feet, the rest of him was lost in darkness. Whatever it was, it seemed to be wrapped around his chest and was pulling him farther and farther up into the fire escape. I held on as best I could, but I couldn’t budge him. My body kept rising along with Isadore’s, until I could see Ramirez screaming down on the sidewalk, getting smaller and smaller. Then the thing wrapped something cold and strong around my neck.” His hands clasped around his throat, the bruises with even edges like a shadow.

  Maria held her hand over her mouth, silent sobs racking her body.

  Lupe felt vomit rise at the back of her throat again. She knew that if she puked her uncle would stop talking. The feeling subsided but the image of Izzy dangling and her uncle being strangled was still behind her eyes. She didn’t think it would ever leave.

  “I let go of Isadore to pull the—whatever it was—off my neck. I had no choice, but it seemed to have no interest in me, because as soon as I let go of Izzy’s legs, the piece uncoiled from my neck and then I was falling.”

  Lupe cleared her throat then asked in a quiet voice, “What are you saying? I mean, you’re not saying this thing … it was a monster?”

  He threw up his hands. “I still have no idea what it was. How’s that posible? And what are we going to tell Luisa? That her son was taken by a supernatural creature?” The three of them were searching one another’s eyes, each desperate for an answer to the impossible.

  Lupe sat there silently shaking her head back and forth. No, just no. Her uncle, he’s the sensible one. He’s the one she can depend on to always tell her the truth. But this? This was crazy. But he seemed coherent, and if he told her it was raining green Jell-O she would believe him. But she’d seen things in the last few days. Heard things. She thought about telling them everything, but she was afraid they would shut her out, or worse, send her home.

  She realized her aunt was looking at her, watching her. Like she knew.

  Lupe’s phone buzzed in her pocket, saving her. She excused herself from her uncle’s bedside, and found her way to a tree-filled atrium that was empty except for an old man reading by the windows. She yanked her cell phone from her pocket and looked at the screen. Five missed calls from Jessica, her friend from school. At this hour? Wait, and a text from a number she didn’t recognize.

  Ready to join your cousin?

  What? Who the hell was this? Oh, they’d picked the wrong day to—

  She jumped when the phone started ringing in her hand. Lupe was shaking so hard she almost dropped the phone as she pressed the button to answer.

  “Lupe?” Jessica’s voice was pulled tight like a string.

  “Yeah.” Honestly she didn’t have any other words. Yeah.

  Silence for a moment. “Lupe, what’s wrong? Did someone already call you?”

  Lupe dropped into an overstuffed chair nearby. How could Jessica know about Izzy in Vermont?

  She couldn’t.

  “Did someone call me about what?”

  “Oh. I. Oh.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “My mom just called from the hospital, she’s working the night shift, and she woke me up to ask how to reach you. Lupe, your dad checked himself in to the hospital about fifteen minutes ago.”

  Checked himself in. That means they didn’t find him in a ditch. She tried to breathe. “Checked himself in for what?” Her father never went to the doctor, like, ever.

  “She wouldn’t tell me, but I eavesdropped when she talked to my dad after, and I heard them say detox.”

  “Dad? Rehab?” Lupe’s mind tried to grasp the two words that she never thought would be used in the same sentence.

  “Yeah, but that’s good, right?”

  Lupe nodded, as if Jessica could see her through the phone. She started to feel as if the room was spinning around her.

  “Lupe? You okay?”

  She almost forgot that Jessica was on the other end of the line. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” Lupe lied. “I should call my dad.”

  “You can’t. Not for the first forty-eight hours, at least. No contact with anyone outside the hospital. Don’t worry, Lupe, they’ll take good care of him. My mom will look in on him, too.”

  Another call buzzed in, and Lupe jumped again, afraid it was whoever had sent the threatening text. No, it was Javier. Her heart took off like a horse out of the gate. Did he know about Izzy? He must if he was calling this late.

  “Jess, I’ve got to get this. And … thanks.”

  Lupe switched calls. She didn’t even get to say hello.

  “Lupe?” Javier’s voice was tense. “I just heard about your uncle—”

  “Forget my uncle, Javier, Izzy—”

  “I know.”

  Lupe didn’t know two words could hold so much weight. But Javier changed the subjec
t quickly.

  “Are you all right? Where are you?”

  “I’m at the hospital. My tío … he tried to save … he got hurt tonight.” Her voice sounded braver than she felt.

  “I know, I heard. Is he okay?”

  “Yes, gracias a Dios.” She answered absently, making the sign of the cross as she’d seen all the old ladies do.

  Javier chuckled. Chuckled? WTF?

  “Something funny?” Lupe’s voice was icy.

  “Sorry. I think I’m losing it. It’s just, you sounded like a Puerto Rican.”

  Lupe bristled. “I am a Puerto Rican.”

  “Of course. I was just—” A sigh. “Look, Lupe. I wanted to say thank you. For everything. But after hearing about your uncle, about Izzy, I’m thinking that this fate is inevitable for me as well.”

  “No! No way. Not on my watch.” She wasn’t losing anyone else.

  Lupe could hear the smile in his voice as he said again, “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For not giving up. You’re stubborn, and I’m grateful.”

  A warmth like sunshine spread through her chest. “You can thank me when we get you past your birthday.”

  “Look, Izzy used. He gave in. I don’t plan on scoring in the near future or again in this lifetime, for that matter.”

  Never say never. The phrase came back from Lupe’s short stint in Alateen. But she wasn’t going to preach at the guy. “We don’t really know if that’s why Izzy and Memo were killed.”

  “No one knows. But I think our theory about addiction was right. Why Carlos is still alive and I’m…”

  “But we need to find out for certain.” She looked at the door. She didn’t have much time before her aunt came looking for her. “What’s our next step?”

  “No, Lupe. You’ve done enough. Besides, I have to go to Old San Juan this morning. My mother wants me to take a casserole to Vico’s grandmother in El Rubí. She’d made it for Izzy’s birthday dinner, but…”

  “Lupe!” Her aunt appeared in the atrium doorway.

  Lupe talked quickly into the phone. “I’m coming with you.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Yeah, well, I am. See you at nine at the top of the stairs. Bye.” She pressed End just as her aunt arrived and was staring at her with that look. The one that made Lupe feel like her skin, heart, and soul were suddenly transparent.