The suite, one of three on the topmost floor, was spacious and, according to the hotel’s website, had a balcony with a long view of both blue sea and green mountains. But from the balcony at night, lights were all they saw on one side, along with a shimmering strip that they guessed was the sea.
They were both tired and ordered supper in their room. After soaking in a tub that took a little while to fill up, they went to bed. Leilani slept fitfully.
She was anxious to finish the necessary transactions with Bernie Tanteo as soon as possible, and as smoothly as she could manage. With no inkling how long and how involved it would be to get her father out of the country, she had cleared her appointment schedule for a month. If their negotiations finished early, maybe she and Justin could spend the rest of the month sightseeing, and she could reacquaint herself with her birthplace.
Before they left California, she had sought a meeting with Bernie Tanteo for the day after their arrival. They agreed to meet at a place she had seen once in her life, a historic walled fort, several centuries old, that people seldom visited on weekday afternoons. Tanteo was careful not to arouse curiosity about their meeting.
Leilani asked if he could bring Dr. Torres along. She wanted to get over the first meeting with her father with all the awkwardness she imagined it would have, at least on her part. But Tanteo refused to do so.
He said in a thick accent, “No, ma’am. I cannot do that. He will attract attention.”
Leilani could not help laughing. “How could he attract any more attention than my husband who’s white?”
“Dr. Torres is well-known. After the conspirators were arrested, his picture and General Huang’s were in all the newspapers for months. Everyone thinks he is dead or still in prison.”
“I see. Okay, you’re right,” Leilani said. “I don’t want to jeopardize our efforts to get him home with us.”
“I thank you, ma’am, for understanding. It is better to keep this business as quiet as we can. You will know more what I’m talking about when you get here.”
*****
Justin and Leilani had a quick early breakfast in the hotel’s dining room on their first morning in the island city. Neither had much appetite, but Justin surveyed the menu with interest and resolved to try a few exotic dishes during their stay. He seemed to be more at home in this now unfamiliar country than she was.
A half hour later, they went to the reception desk to ask about a cab to take them to the fort. The man at the desk offered them a hotel van instead. It would take them to wherever they wanted to go that morning. The hotel was not too busy a couple of weeks after the country had a big national celebration.
“The country takes some time to recover,” a hotel concierge said.
The van drove them to the historic site and dropped them off outside its entrance. The driver would pick them up when they were ready to return to the hotel. He gave them a card with his cell phone number on it and left.
Inside the fort stood a tall moss-clad grey and black stone structure, chipped everywhere with age, and majestic precisely for the same reason. Bernie Tanteo had suggested a meeting place, under a colonnade at the back of the structure. They would have to buy tickets to go through the building, now a museum and a set of government offices.
Justin and Leilani walked towards the building and stopped right in front of it. He said, “I don’t know if we have anything this old where we live.”
“It’s at least five hundred years old,” Leilani said. “I came to this fort twenty years ago on a history tour with my classmates. Nothing inside, then, but empty interior walls of crumbling stone. The new government must have fixed it soon after the uprisings.”
“Good thing they did that. It’s a venerable structure.”
They went straight to the colonnade after buying their tickets. The area looked deserted except for a short stocky man in a flowered shirt and blue jeans sitting on a bench, reading a magazine. That had to be Bernie Tanteo. He closed his magazine and stood up when he saw them.
“Mr. and Mrs. Torres?” he said when they were face-to-face.
“Halverson,” Justin said, extending his hand and smiling down at the man, the top of whose head was at his shoulder level. He was shorter than Leilani. “I’m Leilani’s husband.”
“Oh, sorry, sir, Mr. Halverson. How do you do, sir, ma’am? Thank you for coming.”
Leilani regarded the man’s lined face and sagging jaw. He was probably about her father’s age.
She said, “Please, no ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am,’ Mr. Tanteo. This is Justin. Call me Leilani.”
“Okay. Call me Bernie. You will see me for at least two weeks.”
Justin said, “Can we talk here, Bernie?”
“Yes. I know this place very well. And the workers here know me. Sometimes, I help them. No one comes here on Mondays except a few tourists. Do you want to sit down, Leilani?”
“No, thank you. Where is my father now?”
“He is at my house. He has been staying with me since I found him.”
“How exactly did you find him?” Justin asked.
“I work in many places, do all kinds of things. I saw him at the prison when I went there for a job, to repair the sign outside and repaint it. I do this for them every two years. The salty air corrodes the sign and vandals damage it. They let me choose a few prisoners to help me, from a group the guards bring to me. He was one of them that day. I did not need one but he looked at me and he was pleading. I took pity on him. So, I chose him. But he was very thin and weak and could not work. At the end of the day, I told him he could go back inside. I did not need him again.”
Leilani said, “How did you get him out?”
“He asked me to take him with me. He said if he stayed, he would die in prison without seeing his family. I knew who he was by then and wanted to help him. I remembered he used to treat poor people for free. The guards do not patrol outside the prison. It is minimum security. So I put him in my truck and left.”
Justin said, “Just like that? They didn’t ask you where he was?”
“Not until I reported back three days later. I do that when I finish the job.”
Leilani said, “What did you tell them?”
“I told them I brought him back to the gate by the guard station on the first day, that I did not see him after that and I worked alone for the next few days.”
She said, “They believed you?”
“Yes. I have worked for them for more than fifteen years and I do good work. They trust me. The prison reported him missing.”
Justin said, “Are you in some danger for harboring an escaped prisoner?”
“If they come to my house. I do not think they will come, but who knows. So, I have to get Dr. Torres out of there.”
Leilani said, “How much time do we have?”
“I will feel better if you can leave with him in two weeks. But it could take three. I can get him a fake passport. It is not so difficult here if you have the money. You can buy anything.”
She said, “Can we get this passport ourselves?”
Bernie said, “No. This is not a legal operation. You give me the $500 and I will get the passport with a fake name. But it will pass through inspection, guaranteed. We also have to get him a tourist visa. That is going to be tricky.”
Justin said, “Tricky because …?”
“Your father cannot appear in public. But the applicant has to be at the government office. They ask questions and then take a picture of him.”
Leilani said, “So, what do we do?”
Bernie said, “I will find someone who look like him to help us. But you have to pay, in cash. One thousand dollars should do it, plus all other expenses of coming and staying in the city until we get the visa.”
Justin said, “Where will you get someone?”
“There are many old men in outlying areas of the country who will be glad to do it. That is big money for them. I will te
ll them you are here and you will pay. They will not trust me to pay them. They know I am poor. When we have the man, we will go to a travel agency. You pay but it is faster. They also send someone with the applicant to help with the procedures.”
Leilani scowled. “Do we meet with this stand-in?”
“If you want, but there is no need. You are only interested in those two documents—the passport and the visa.”
She said, “So, what do we do in the meantime?”
“You buy Dr. Torres a round-trip plane ticket. You will only be allowed that with the tourist visa. Get a flight that leaves at night.”
She nodded. “Will we need the visa to buy the ticket?”
“No, everything is checked at departure. That is the only time your father has to come out in public. Once he is on the plane with you, he is safe.”
Justin said, “Is there anything else we should do.”
“Enjoy the city. I will do everything else. You should buy me one of those phones with a fixed amount for calls, if you want to call me. If not, we have to arrange meetings to talk. It is best not to do that. I do not want to attract suspicion. Also, with the phone, you can talk to your father.”
Leilani said, “Don’t you have a phone at your home we can call?”
“No, I cannot afford the extra cost of a phone.”
Justin said, “We can get you that phone now. Show us where.”
“Okay, and I will start looking for a man who can pass for your father. I will call you as soon as I have him and get the passport after that.”
Leilani said, “Can we come to your house to see my father?”
“No, I do not get many visitors and my neighbors know that. If you come, you will attract attention.”
“What about me alone, without Justin?”
“You are a young woman and you look like one of us but you are not. You are different. My neighbors will be curious and they will gossip.”
Justin said to Leilani, “Use Skype. Skype your father. We’ll make sure the phone we buy for Bernie has the app for it.”
“Yes, of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”
*****
After Justin and Leilani bought Bernie his cell phone, he told them he would dial them at eight so Leilani and her father could do a video call. They shook Bernie’s hands and thanked him.
Although grateful and impressed with Bernie’s efficiency, Leilani couldn’t shake off her uneasiness about him. She said, “Is there something fishy about this guy?”
Justin said, “He looks honest enough but, yeah, I’m a little suspicious. I’m not convinced it was that easy for him to whisk your father away from prison.”
“I agree, but we know little about this country.”
“If Bernie is telling the truth, my guess is prison officials think Dr. Torres is no longer a threat to the government. That’s why they’re not searching hard. They don’t care what happens to him.”
“But … if he’s no longer a threat, why not release him?”
Justin shrugged. “Who knows? He’s out. You can take him home. Isn’t that what matters?”
She nodded. “I suppose so. Maybe it’s good they think he’s not a threat anymore. That’ll make it easier for us to get him out.”
Justin said, “Do you want to go back to the fort?”
“I sure do. The museum looked interesting.”
They decided to spend the rest of the day sightseeing. But after the fort, they couldn’t do much. They were still suffering from jet lag, and Leilani was too restless. All she could think of was the coming evening.
After dinner at a restaurant at the mall where their hotel was located, they returned to their hotel room at a quarter to eight.
Leilani said, “I know I will have to see and meet my father sometime. I want to …. But, look, my hands are shaking and I have butterflies in my stomach.” She held her hands out to Justin, her cell phone clutched tightly in her right hand.
Justin sat on the couch next to her and took her hands in both of his. He said, “They’re not only shaking, they’re clammy.”
He gathered her in his arms and held her close. “I’m sure it’ll be all right. Eventually, if not today.”
“What am I going to say to him? What if I don’t remember his face? The picture I have of him in my office was taken twenty-five years ago, in his early thirties. He was young, healthy, and handsome.”
“Expect someone old and emaciated. Bernie said he’s very thin and weak. Be yourself and I think the rest will follow naturally.”
The cell phone in her hand rang at exactly 8 PM. It gave her a start. She swiped the screen and turned on the Skype app.
The face of an old man appeared on the screen. A face with gray thinning hair, sunken eyes and cheeks, and so little flesh on it that the sallow skin seemed to hug the skull underneath it. Leilani gasped. This could not be her father and he surely did not look like an assassin.
The mouth on the face smiled and said, “Is that you, Lani?” The voice was weak and quivering, but she detected a familiar note in it—an inflection used by the same voice when it read stories to her, Rudy, and Carmen.
Leilani wiped the tear in one eye. “Yes, Papá, its me.”
“I can’t see you too clearly. My eyes have gotten old and dim in prison. But I see your mother in you.”
“Do you?” Leilani could not think of anything else to say. Her mind wasn’t working. Her emotions threatened to overwhelm her.
“Yes. You always looked like her the most. Just as beautiful.”
Leilani’s eyes were brimming with tears. “Oh, Papá!”
“I may look like a concentration camp victim, but I’m all right. Bernie has been feeding me well and I’m getting my strength back slowly.”
“Oh, Papá.” She blinked to see her father better and tears rolled down her cheeks.
He stared back at her and could not speak for some moments. Leilani saw that tears also flowed from his eyes. He swiped his eyes and his cheeks with the back of his hand.
He said, “Bernie says I will see you very soon. Your Mamá also.”
Leilani said, “Maybe in three weeks.”
“That’s not long from now. I’ve been waiting twenty years to see you all again. What’s three weeks? I’ve been imagining it all those years, being on a plane back to your Mamá.”
“Oh, Papá.”
“I want to talk to you some more, my child, but I’m tired and you should rest, too. You look exhausted. Three weeks will be over before you know it.”
“Okay, Papá. I’ll see you soon. Take care of yourself.”
She watched her father’s face disappear in less than a blink of an eye, as she turned off her phone. She sat staring into space, cheeks wet with tears.
Justin, who had remained seated next to her on the couch, handed her a handkerchief. Leilani stared at the white fabric for a moment before she took it.
She said, “Thank you. Did you see my father?”
“Yes. He does look like a concentration camp victim, but good food will help that.”
“Except for something in his voice, I can’t see the father I knew in him.”
“But you must admit he didn’t look like a would-be assassin, either.”
“No. He seems so broken down on the surface, but there’s hope in his voice and in his eyes. He’s eager to see Mamá.”
“What about you, Lani?”
“Seeing him this way, I can almost forgive him anything. Maybe, after we’ve been together a while, I’ll find the father I lost in him. Then, maybe, nothing else will matter.”
XX. Reconciling the Past
On the third day, Leilani still had not heard from Bernie. At some minutes past 9 AM while preparing to go sightseeing, the phone in their hotel room rang. Leilani picked it up.
“Hello,” Leilani said, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders at Justin’s look of curiosity. She had no idea who could be calli
ng them on the hotel phone. Not Bernie, who would have rung her cell phone.
A feminine voice answered, “Hello, is this Leilani Torres? This is Virginia Bello—Virgie. Do you remember?”
“Virgie? Virgie.” Leilani searched her memory and guessed the caller could only be someone from her old school. “From grade school at Sacred Heart?”
“Yes, the one with the mole on the bridge of her nose.”
Mole … Virgie … a short, slight girl with thick black wavy hair and smiling black eyes tilting upward to her temples. Virgie often joined her on the bench to watch other girls play in that schoolyard with high walls, isolating and protecting everyone inside from the world outside. Virgie, unlike Myrna, was shy and soft-spoken. When she played, she preferred hopscotch to jumping rope.
“Oh, yeah, Virgie, my second best friend! I remember that beauty mark. How we made fun of you because of it. I’m sorry now that I did. Children can be cruel.”
“You were not as bad as the others. I was more annoyed that I was your second best friend. I always thought you chose the wrong person for your best. It should have been me.”
Virgie’s voice was light, lilting, and at ease and Leilani smiled at her banter. It sounded vaguely familiar and it was bringing back vivid memories of a life she had nearly forgotten: Sunny, hot afternoons sitting under a shade while other girls—all well-behaved—played in their uniforms until their white shirts got soaked with sweat. Hawk-eyed novices covered in white from head to foot ambling around the schoolyard. And always within reach—kind nuns in their penguin habits, working hard to keep their ignorant minds fed and their searching hearts pure.
Those images wrapped her with warmth and beads of sweat on her neck and torso—sweat cooled off in seconds by breezes blowing, once in a while, from a sea a few kilometers away. They had substance, those images. More so than that of the shriveled old man that her father had become. His image tugged at her heart, but it didn’t trigger any deep emotional memories. When she cried during their video call, it was from a sense of having lost a part of her past that had meant a lot to her. It was the second time in two days that a sense of loss had hit her.
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