A Life Rebuilt

by Jean Brashear

  He wanted her out.

  Dragging himself back to the night and focusing on his run, he realized he was nearly in front of the home under construction. Before he passed it, he spotted a figure walking toward the house and he ducked behind a tree to observe. Under the streetlight, he saw that it was a kid, his movements both furtive and awkward as he circled the house, heading for the rear.

  Roman followed with stealth. The kid craned his head to peer through a window, then shook his head and reached for the back doorknob.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you,” Roman said.

  The kid gasped, looked back and took off.

  Roman gave chase. The boy was fast, but he was panicked. Roman caught up with him quickly and took him down.

  The kid started crying. “I wasn’t gonna hurt nothin’, I swear. I wanted to see was it okay.”

  Roman turned him over and remained crouched above him. “Who are you?”

  The boy’s chin jutted. “Ain’t nothin’ you need to know.”

  “You’ll have to tell the police.” The kid didn’t have to know Roman had no way to call them. “What are you doing here?”

  “I ain’t talkin’ to you. Who you think you are, anyway?”

  If Roman hadn’t dealt with scared kids before, he might have bought the bluff. “You don’t need to know,” he echoed.

  Their gazes locked.

  The boy looked away first. “Miss Jenna, she helped me,” he said quietly. “She let me go. I just—I never wanted to do it, but Mako tell me he hurt my kid brother if I don’t do what he say.”

  Ah. Now he got it. “You were one of the thieves from last night.”

  “Didn’t wanna be.”

  “And Jenna let you go.” Anger stirred. “So you left her with that guy, that Mako?”

  “I had to.” His throat worked. “I got a kid brother to watch out for. Can’t go to jail.”

  “You saw he had a knife on her and you left?”

  Again the kid’s eyes shifted.

  “Answer me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Mako could have killed her.” Forcibly Roman throttled his simmering rage. “You abandoned her to him.”

  “She okay. I asked around. She didn’t get hurt.”

  Roman’s voice went deadly soft. “He knocked her to the ground. He tied her hands behind her. He held a knife to her throat. You don’t think that counts as hurt?”

  “I’m sorry.” The kid started crying. “I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. Damien got no food all day, and he little. Mako say he split the money with me, say insurance take care of fixin’ it, nobody loses.”

  God. What kind of world was it where children were so often the ones to suffer the worst?

  And why the hell had another abandoned kid crossed his path? He didn’t want this, didn’t want to care.

  He held the boy’s eyes with his. “Tell me your name.”

  “Freddie.”

  “Where do you live, Freddie?”

  The boy’s eyes shifted. “We got a place.”

  Yeah. But the same place every night? Doubtful. “Where’s Damien right now?”

  “He with his mama. She not working tonight.”

  “She’s not your mother?”

  The boy shook his head.

  “How old are you?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “Why’d you pick this place to rob?”

  His head drooped in shame. “Belong to my bro, Beto. I helped work here one day. Gonna be real nice.”

  Roman stared at the top of the boy’s head and sighed. He rose, held out a hand and helped Freddie to his feet. “Mako’s wrong. This house is being built by volunteers and all the money comes from donations, did you know that? You owe them for what you did. How do you plan to make it right?”

  A quick jerk showed panicked eyes. “I ain’t got no money. I can’t pay.”

  “You know how to work, right?”

  “Don’t matter. Nobody want to hire me. Got to be sixteen.”

  “You think the world hates you? You don’t have a family to take care of you, so you should give up?”

  The boy only shrugged. “Don’t matter what I want.”

  “It does, Freddie. What you want very much matters. You can change all this.”

  “You sound like Miss Jenna. She nice, but she don’t get it. She’s a pretty white lady who thinks talk can fix things.” The boy’s eyes were ancient.

  “I didn’t have parents, either. I never knew my father,” Roman said. “My mother left me when I was a kid.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit. But I had someone a lot like Miss Jenna who believed in me. You know she never told the cops about you?”

  “That what Mako say. He call her stupid. Say she deserve to get robbed.”

  “Forget Mako. What do you think?”

  Freddie was silent a long while. “Be nice if she was right about how the world can be, but she ain’t right. She just don’t get it.”

  Roman didn’t disagree, but to simply let the matter go was a disservice to her. “Maybe the rest of us have to look out for folks like her.”

  “Huh?”

  “Even if her way can’t fix everything, Beto and his family are getting a new house because people like Jenna believe. Is it better for her not to believe?”

  Sullen shake of the head. “I guess not.”

  “So how are you going to repay her for not turning you in?”

  “I ain’t stupid. You tryin’ to get me to say I’ll come back here to help, right?” He looked away. “I don’t know, man.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that you could learn some skills helping out here, skills that might get you a paying job?”

  Freddie blinked. “No.”

  “You afraid of hard work, Freddie?”

  “No.”

  “Then show up here tomorrow and see what you can learn.”

  The boy’s head cocked. “You working here?”

  “No.” No way. Too many people. Too much noise.

  “Don’t know how to do these jobs, neither? Maybe you should show up and learn, too.”

  He nearly grinned. The kid had stones, that was for sure. For a second he was reminded of Ahmed’s audacity, of how the younger boy had faced down bigger tormentors.

  The reminder wiped away any smile. “I already know how.”

  “So, what, you got another job, that it? Maybe I could come there. Think they’d pay me?”

  Roman wasn’t taking anyone home with him. It wasn’t home, anyway. Not now. “No.”

  “You sure good at saying no.” Crestfallen, the boy turned away.

  Every rib showed through the back of his dirty T-shirt.

  No. I don’t want this. I don’t want to get involved. He only wanted to be left the hell alone.

  “I’m outta here. Don’t try to stop me.” But loneliness and reluctance rode every line of the boy’s frame.

  Damn it. “I’ll come for one day, but that’s it.”

  Freddie spun. “For real?”

  “Don’t ask me again.” His voice was too sharp, he realized, but he hated this. Wasn’t the kid’s fault, though. “You’re going to help me fix what you tore up.”

  “You know how to do that wiring shit, seriously? Like you can hook up lights and stuff?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sweet!”

  “How do you plan to live in the meantime? This work doesn’t pay.”

  The boy’s shoulders stiffened. “Not your worry, man. I take care of myself.”

  He was probably trying to, but he was clearly losing the battle. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his frame. Inwardly Roman sighed. Handouts weren’t a good long-term so
lution, but this boy had to eat. He reached for his wallet and withdrew a twenty. “There won’t be any more of this if you don’t use it to buy food for yourself. Eat a good breakfast and be here by seven-thirty. You have a place to stay?”

  “Yeah.”

  Roman doubted he had much of a place, but the boy wasn’t his problem. “I’m not a sucker like Jenna. You get a good night’s sleep, eat a filling breakfast and be here ready to work. Show these people you can work hard, and maybe the foreman will have some ideas about where you can get a job.” He proffered the bill. Freddie took it and folded it carefully, sticking it deep into the pocket of threadbare jeans barely hanging onto his butt.

  And pull up your pants, he wanted to say, but like the food and a place to sleep, he did not want to be involved.

  “Seven-thirty. Now get the hell out of here.”

  The boy lingered. “Mister, you crazy like Miss Jenna? Believe you can change things?”

  Roman snorted. “Not hardly. I know you’re thinking you just copped twenty easy bucks and have no plans to show up tomorrow.”

  “Hunh.” The boy smiled a little. “Guess we’ll see.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, well, I’m outta here.” But he hesitated.

  Roman didn’t move, and finally the boy took off.

  Before Roman could resume his own run, another car drove by, one he recognized. His temper stirred when he realized it was Jenna. You’d better not even stop, much less open the door, he warned her silently. Tell me even you are not that naive.

  When she drove on past, he released the breath he hadn’t been aware of holding.

  He shouldn’t give her another thought. It was none of his concern if she chose to be stubborn and foolish and reckless. Jaw tight, Roman stared after the red taillights vanishing in the distance. Not my problem, he reminded himself. None of them are my problem.

  But he’d promised the kid one day. If he was going to commit that insanity, he needed to change his appearance so she would not recognize him.

  He continued staring sightlessly down the street for a long time.

  CHAPTER THREE

  AS HE SLID INTO the tai chi move High Pat on Horse, Roman’s gratitude was renewed. His body was not the same as it had been before the chopper fell from the sky, but it served him again in a way he’d been warned it never would. His transitions in the tai chi 24 form were executed with an ease that had seemed impossible even just a couple of months ago. The regimen had reconditioned his core and brought stability back to his spine. Yet his were no longer the movements of a man who sought to be the best in the art of war, no longer focused on the stealth and strength required to slip through the shadows and surgically remove threats from existence, no.

  Now they were all about keeping the world at bay, about seeking the place where he could exist without the clamor that chaos and guilt had wrought. Once he’d held complete mastery of his mind every bit as much as he had over his body. He’d commanded men with sure confidence and unerring focus. He’d been able to quiet his mind in the midst of the most tense situation, under any sort of pressure.

  Then innocent children were murdered by zealots in front of his eyes. And a few days later, the team’s chopper had plunged from the sky. Though he’d made it out of the wreckage and dragged two of his men with him—not that he remembered doing it—he’d been thrown into an existence where he controlled nothing. Not whether he lived, not what his future would be. The military career he’d loved had been a casualty, and months had been consumed by his recovery. That’s what came of thinking he could make a difference.

  And now here he was, getting involved with a messed-up kid who probably wouldn’t even show up today. And by returning to the job site and revealing himself, Roman would be creating expectations. Obligations he didn’t want. Responsibilities.

  Once, he’d lived to tackle any responsibility and excel, to exceed any expectation, to prove himself.

  He closed his hands into the final prayerful pose and went completely still. Brought crisp morning air into his lungs and order into his mind as ripples rose from the depths.

  He settled on the cool, damp grass, legs crossed beneath him, a miracle in itself that they could do that so easily now. He focused on slow, steady breaths that cleansed him and eased him into that place where he wanted nothing, where he let go of need, of worry, of desire for anything beyond the still, quiet pool he’d worked very hard to find inside himself.

  Sometime later he emerged, rising into consciousness with his senses renewed, hearing the lone mockingbird chattering in the pecan tree at the edge of the yard, the low hum of faraway morning traffic as the city awoke, the bark of Mr. Cantu’s dog down the block.

  A cat meowed, and he opened his eyes. “Buenos días,” he said to Chico, the ancient three-legged cat his abuela had sheltered and who always reappeared to observe Roman’s morning routine. He extended his hand, and the old tom made his halting way over for a good scratch.

  After the feline was reduced to a purring puddle, he rose more smoothly than either he or the doctors had imagined he’d be able to manage, and walked to his makeshift quarters, the cat trotting alongside. Though Chico had survived on his own before Roman’s return, now Roman supplemented the animal’s diet of small creatures.

  He would feed the cat and feed himself. Then he’d head to the job site to fulfill a rash promise.

  * * *

  IT WAS AFTER LUNCH before Jenna could drop by the site that day. She’d gotten caught on the phone with one of their donors, dealt with questions from the city inspection department and left voice mail messages for her brothers who lived in town. Both were very skilled with all types of construction, and though Jesse was now an artist of growing fame and Cade a renowned adventure photographer, they had been raised like her—never too proud to get their hands dirty. Both were self-employed, so she figured she could tap them for a short stint of help to get this project caught up, if need be.

  She changed into work clothes she’d taken with her to the office, and when she showed up at the site, she wasn’t empty-handed. She’d stopped at a little Mexican grocery not far from her office and picked up pan dulce as a treat for the crew. Good for morale and good for the family who owned the grocery. Jenna bought as many of her own supplies there as the store could provide. She had grown up in a small town in far West Texas and understood the importance of supporting local businesses.

  When she made her way inside the house, she was greeted with smiles, even from Mr. Grumpy. “Hey, Teo, who spiked your water with happy juice?”

  “Come into the kitchen and you’ll see.”

  Curious, she followed. Her eyebrows lifted. “Wow. Wiring. What happened?”

  Teo nodded toward the far wall. “He did. Hey, Roman, I’d like you to meet someone.”

  A man who’d been fishing wire between studs completed his task, then turned.

  Wow was right. And she wasn’t only talking about the wiring.

  “Jenna MacAllister, this is Roman Gallardo. He’s a new volunteer, and man, he’s good. Even brought his own wire to replace some of what was damaged.”

  Tall. Dark. Gorgeous. The words rattled around in her brain and clogged up her throat.

  “Ms. MacAllister,” he said in a deep, resonant voice, nodding. Then he began to move away.

  Teo frowned at her.

  “Oh—sorry.” Jenna gathered herself and extended a hand in welcome. “Thank you very much for helping us out here.”

  He stared at her hand, then finally shifted the coil of wire from his right hand to his left and returned the shake, withdrawing quickly. “Sure.” Immediately he refocused on his work.

  But not quickly enough that she didn’t notice the strength in his fingers, the calluses that backed up his experience. Or to register that this man had a presence to him, a
gravity that was unusual. A look into his beautiful dark brown eyes told her little, only that he was very, very guarded.

  She glanced at Teo and mugged. What’s up with him? Teo shrugged.

  Okay, so this Roman Gallardo wasn’t much of a talker. He was still a godsend.

  “How did you know?” she found herself asking him.

  He went on working as if he hadn’t heard.

  “Mr. Gallardo?”

  Slowly he turned. “What?”

  “How did you know we needed an electrician? Or wire?” Teo was frowning at her again. Hastily, she reassured them both. “I mean, I’m sure not complaining. We really do need your help, and we’re very grateful to have you. I just wondered how you found out.”

  He’d already resumed his task. “I heard about what happened last night.”

  “Where?” Who else knew? She’d managed to skim over the details with Teo and the Marins, but had the cops been talking?

  “Word gets around.” He revolved halfway. “Is that a problem, Ms. MacAllister?”

  “What? Oh, no—no. Neighbors…that’s fine. Just fine.”

  Both men were looking oddly at her, and she realized she probably sounded like a lunatic. “Well, I’ll just get to work now. Thank you so much. And please, call me Jenna.”

  As she walked away with Teo, however, she couldn’t resist a glance over her shoulder. There was something about the man… .

  “Don’t you hang around long, you hear me?” Teo said, yanking her back to the moment. “I remember that tonight is your Girls’ Night Out.”

  “But there’s still catch-up to do.”

  “We’ve made big strides today, I’m telling you. That Roman does the work of two men. You take the night off, missy. You need it.”

  After a restless night and a strenuous day, Jenna thought the smartest plan might be to go home and catch up on her sleep.

  But Teo was right—this was Girls’ Night Out, and as its founder, Jenna made it a policy to never miss.

  For now, though, it was back to work.

  * * *

  ROMAN COULDN’T GET out of there soon enough. Freddie hadn’t shown, not that he should be surprised. However ticked off he was, Roman understood that kids like Freddie were seldom good at simple courtesies most people took for granted. When you were scrambling to survive, things such as appointments and responsibilities went by the wayside. From what little he’d gathered about the boy, Freddie clearly was dealing with a lot of garbage.