Marion E Currier

by Linked (retail) (epub)

  My teeth shredded my lip mercilessly. Stealing cars on a daily basis was starting to make me ill. How long could we possibly get away with this? And what did he mean, I could do the fixing? Had I appeared that confident, brave and knowledgeable when I looked at his head? Maybe now would be a good time to tell him that many moons ago a CPR instructor had compared my skills to someone bouncing around on a rocking horse, emphasizing that rather than helping anyone breathe, my particular skill set just broke all of their ribs and sent them pointy-end first into the victim's lungs. So letting me "fix" anyone's injury was sure to cause more damage.

  I carried Santiago over to the Sentra Tee jump started. "I think we need to find you a doctor or a nurse," I tried clarifying my fix-up comment. "I'm not really qualified…"

  "You are," he interrupted. "You'll be amazed at what you're capable of in situations like this." He placed his son onto the backseat. "He‘ll have one heck of a headache when he comes to. Let's get out of here."

  My bottom lip was numb from my nervous mauling. I moved on to the upper lip. There were so many questions whirring through my head, I wasn't sure which to ask first. Should I be on the lookout for the Type O Toyota? Or for local cops? Or maybe offer to drive if Tee would tell me where to take us?

  I longed to hide in the depth of the rainforest. With Rafael. In one of those quiet moments where there was no rest of the world. Just us. Losing myself in his eyes. Knowing how he felt and feeling safe by his side. But the more I tried to will myself there, the less it worked. I stole a sideways glance at Tee. He'd wiped some of the blood across his face, making him appear to be covered in war paint. It would've worked too, what with it being real blood. It was hard to see anything of Rafael in him in his current state. Nor did I know how or what Tee was feeling. Yet I couldn't deny that I felt safer in his presence than when we were apart.

  "How did you lose the cops who were chasing you," I asked.

  "I didn't exactly lose them," Tee replied. "I put the car on cruise control and jumped out on the passenger side before I let it go off road and into a tree. It burned on impact and the cops got busy putting out the flames while I took off on foot."

  "And the injuries?"

  "I flew over a broken down fence when I jumped. Tore my leg open on some nails sticking out of a post and landed head first on a boulder."

  "And you still managed to run off?"

  "Run?" He smirked. "I wouldn't exactly call it that. I probably looked more like a staggering drunk, but I got lucky. The owner of the broken fence had a nice corn crop right behind it, and I got through it before the two guys in the Toyota showed up and everyone realized I wasn't in the burning SUV." He looked at me. "If it's meant to be, then even the crazy stuff has a way of working itself out. When I came out of the field, the owner had come out since he'd heard the crash and could see the smoke. I told him I was being chased and asked if he could take me to Mayagüez."

  My turn to smirk. "What? And he took you just like that without questioning your story?"

  Tee smiled, his teeth looking eerily white amid all of the red streaks. "It's pretty amazing how two hundred dollars in cash can make a believer out of anyone."

  "That's a steep cab fare."

  "It got me back in time."

  "It did," I agreed. "Guess that makes it worth it."

  "Every penny."

  Chapter 20

  We stopped in Aguadilla where I bought water and sutures, hydro peroxide, rubbing alcohol, Band-Aids, scissors, children's Tylenol. I had no real idea what to get for my emergency nurse duty, but was too embarrassed to admit that to Tee. A roll of paper towels, a clean T-shirt and a pair of jeans that looked like it would fit him. Plus some mangoes, bananas and milk. To make up for the surullitos.

  I tried not to act like a spooked rabbit, but still ended up scanning all cars and fellow shoppers so rapidly that I made myself dizzy by the time I got back to the car Tee had parked in the shade of a tree, at the far end of the lot. He got out when he saw me coming, ready to rid himself of nature's war paint. I soaked a couple of paper towels with water, holding them out to him, but he just watched me, an amused smile playing with the corners of his mouth.

  "You can see where the wound is," he said. "Try not to get too brutal around that area. No need to be careful with the rest of my head."

  Right. My bottom lip was not happy about going back into the vice grip between my teeth. Dried blood is a bugger to get off human skin I discovered. I mumbled ‘sorry' so many times that Tee finally grabbed my wrist to stop me.

  "It's fine. I'm fine. You don't need to apologize. I asked you to do this."

  My face knotted up. "It's just…with my particular brand of TLC, your skin is redder when I'm done than when you were covered in blood."

  "You worry too much Melissa. Your brand of TLC is just fine." He smiled, soaking a fresh paper towel and handing it to me. "Switch to peroxide when you get close to where my head is split."

  If I stepped any closer, I was convinced he'd be able to feel my violent heartbeat. It took every ounce of self-control I had to reach up and continue cleaning his face. I wished he'd close his eyes instead of watching me. And then I did the only thing I could to stop myself from going crazy. I closed mine. Tracing the cheekbone, the downward curvature of the nose. Like a blind woman tracing the facial feature of a person she is trying to get to know. Only I already knew this face. When he spoke, I heard Rafael; the reassuring calmness in his voice I'd missed so much during the craziness of the past few days. It was my security blanket, and behind closed lids, I was cleaning the face I came to find in Puerto Rico. The one I'd always protected and watched over, the one I knew better than my own.

  A desperate breath rolled out of me when I felt his hand on mine. I didn't want to open my eyes. Leave me with Rafael just a moment longer. Please. Don't ask me to look.

  "The wound needs to be cleaned," Rafael's voice said softly. "Then you'll have to push the sides of the gash together to put the suture on. Can you do that?"

  I nodded. Through the dark center of Rafael's eyes I eased back into the present and to looking at Tee. Some of the jewelry maker's hair was caked in blood around the opening and I worked as carefully as possible to clean the area. I struggled to stop more "sorrys" from coming out when he tensed up, but he took my makeshift medical treatment without a word of complaint. He handled the clean-up of the leg himself, and I was grateful for it.

  All scrubbed and with fresh clothes on, only a slight limp and the two sutures amid his curls hinted that something was wrong. Good enough to enter a hotel without alarming everyone within a five-mile radius.

  I was surprised that we didn't look for something out of the way again, but Tee headed for the parador Vistamar in Quebradillas. It was quite well visited, although a good number of people seemed to be locals just enjoying the bar by the pool rather than actually staying at the hotel. The building looked like a forgotten relic from the ‘60s, a decade which must have been so good to the hotel that the decision was made to keep things just the way they were back then.

  "People come here for the view," Tee explained as he laid Santiago on one of our two beds. When I stepped onto the balcony, I could see why the throwback ambiance of the hotel itself wasn't all that important. A thicket of thigh-high grasses and brush edged the path to secluded Guajataca beach. Palm trees marked the direction of the wind with their extended fronds, a steady breeze easing the white foaming tentacles of the deep blue Atlantic onto the shore. I inhaled the postcard image.

  "I'm going to lose the car," Tee said behind me. "You'll stay with Santiago?"

  I nodded. Not dwelling on the inevitable fact that losing one car meant having to find yet another tomorrow.

  Santiago stirred, moaning. I went armed with water, Tylenol, and a washcloth to the bed.

  "Hey Santi." Brushing hair out of his face. "How's your head?"

  "It hurts," he mumbled.

  I stopped his hand before he put his fingers into the dried blood above his
ear. "I'm going to have to rub a little," I said, "but I will try not to hurt you, okay. There's some blood in your hair where Valentín hit you."

  Perhaps little boys have to grow into being the bad patients adult men are known to be. For Santiago, the word blood worked better than any smelling salt. I could barely convince him to take the two Tylenol before he scooted off the bed to take a good look at the thin trickle of red that had dried along the side of his face. I assured him it was real, told him the details twice of how his father took out Valentín with a coconut and easily agreed that he, Santiago, was very smart to get right away what Tee wanted him to do in all of this. Had it not been for the fried yucca and lechón Tee brought back to the room, I'm sure I also could have convinced him to have some fruit. But at least he drank the milk. Since his father had sutures on his head, we managed to convince Santi to let us put one on him before he fell asleep again while watching cartoons.

  Tee yawned heartily. "I think I'm gonna do the same," he said, nodding toward his son.

  I essentially had the same idea, but somehow couldn't get that message across to my brain. Lying in the dark, I listened to the airbrakes of trucks going by on Highway Two between the hotel and the beach. At almost midnight, I gave up. Pulling my phone out of my bag, I slipped out onto the balcony.

  It was good to hear Elena's voice and a smile warmed my chest.

  "Since your last call, I haven't taken a sleeping pill until at least midnight," she confessed as I noticed with relief and surprise how un-groggy she sounded. "Everything you tell me is crazy enough. I need to be fully awake when you talk to me because otherwise I wonder in the morning what's real and what's side effect of the pill."

  I laughed quietly. "Even without taking anything to help me sleep, I wonder what's real and what isn't." I whitewashed the happenings of the day, admitting only that the nice smelling detective once again proved to be a first-class jerk before assuring Elena that the jewelry maker, my little eight-year-old naked bedfellow and I were fine and well and staying in a place with a beautiful view.

  "And what about Rafael," she finally asked.

  I stared at the moonlit beach where the waters now rolled onto the sands in glittering black. "Rafael," I repeated softly. "He's there. Every night."

  "Are you any closer to finding him during the day?"

  "Sometimes," I said, thinking of how I touched his cheek and nose today. "You know this isn't over until I have that face-to-face with him. That really good, long talk." I felt a chill at the word over, but wasn't that what this was going to be? Making sure the youngest of the family with Rafael Jagua's eyes was safe before moving on. Although I couldn't even imagine what I'd move on to, but I would have the rest of my life to figure that out.

  I convinced Elena that it was safe again to take her sleeping pill at an earlier hour and thanks to my omission of the words blood, sutures, gunshot, cracked heads and burning car, she believed me. At least one of us would be able to go to sleep tonight.

  The cool air felt good on my arms, and I let it caress me a while longer before turning to go back inside. Seeing Tee leaning against the door took all soothing out of the breeze.

  "Don't you ever sleep? I asked.

  "I could ask you the same thing. I was almost asleep, but then noticed you going outside."

  "So you got curious."

  He shrugged.

  "And just how long have you been standing there?"

  "Since you lied to whomever you were talking to about how our day went."

  Great. Hadn't missed a thing. "My friend Elena in Miami," I said. "Why worry her unnecessarily."

  "When she seems to think you're meeting Rafael."

  "Right." My aorta pulsated wildly.

  "Where and when exactly is that going to happen?"

  His guess was as good as mine. But somehow I didn't think he'd be satisfied with that answer.

  "Soon," I replied. "When we're back in San Juan. And Santiago is safe."

  Tee studied me for a minute, then nodded slowly and opened the door. As I stepped past him, he said into my ear, "Thank him for me."

  My jaw slacked and I tried to find his eyes in the dead of night.

  "For loaning you to Santi and me. All this mess…it's holding up your meeting." He smiled. "But I guess from what you said, you'll see him once you close your eyes."

  My legs went numb and I knew that if I didn't sit or lie down pretty soon, my knees would give out and I'd hit the floor. I staggered blindly to my bed, crawled under the covers as though they were a cocoon in which I could hide. How could he do this to me? With his voice. His eyes. That smile I'd seen so many times. I buried my face in the pillow, afraid my breathing would be so loud and agitated that Tee would be able to hear it in the other bed.

  I don't know how long I lay there, suffocating myself before I finally came up for air. When no traffic was going by on Highway Two, I could hear the sounds of sleep coming from the other bed. I slowly lifted my head, looked at father and son wrapped together. They didn't stir as I first sat on the edge of my bed, then knelt down by theirs. Silently, I traced the outline of Santiago's face, wrapped one of his curls around my fingers. I wanted his image to be embedded in my memory. To stay with me forever, even if it would be just as difficult to live with as the memory of my little Mexican boy.

  I hesitated, but then allowed my fingers to glide along Tee's arm, slung loosely around his son's shoulders. His skin was warm and velvety, and it was difficult to resist intertwining my hand with his. But I was afraid I wouldn't let go if I did.

  Chapter 21

  Anacaona's footsteps were quiet on the wood floor, but I knew by the grin forming on Juan Luis's face that he knew she was coming up behind him. She dipped her hand into the cup she was holding, brushing her cool fingers along the nape of his neck, giggling.

  I had been slightly off when estimating her age in the woods. She was almost 18, but in many ways as much a child as the 19-year-old who now playfully reached for her. Pulling her close until she sat down on the floor beside him, her head resting on his knees and his fingers sifting through the strands of her coarse hair. I glanced at Rafael who watched the gooey-eyed love spectacle with as much amusement as I did.

  "She is so tolerant with him," I said. "I don't even think she realizes that the mischief he gets both of you into isn't really the way a grown-up is supposed to behave."

  Rafael laughed quietly, shaking his head.

  I still couldn't imagine Doña Silvia Figueroa de Aragón giving her blessing to Anacaona marrying her son. Status was important to her and there was no doubt in my mind she pictured Juan Luis accompanied by some general's daughter, rather than a Taíno girl who taught her son more of her language and customs than the other way around. I, on the other hand, thought she was perfect for Rafael's best friend. Saying he defied the conventional behavior and stiff rules imported from the old country was an understatement. Juan Luis was as wild and unpredictable as the island he called home, and Anacaona shared his spirit. Indeed, she was the only girl I'd seen him with who got neither embarrassed nor confused or infuriated by his stunts. She either watched them with interest, laughed at or participated in them. She did not stop him when he and Rafael went out on their own, but also commanded Juan Luis's full attention when she wanted it undivided.

  "I think your mother better get used to having her around," Rafael said, smiling at his buddy, who returned the gesture, but didn't say anything. Just raised the cup Anacaona had brought for him.

  It was long after the sun went down that Rafael and I went to bed in one of the Aragón's guest rooms. The wind blew moonlight through the open balcony doors and the song of the Coquí echoed in the night. I sat huddled at the foot of Rafael's bed, probably looking like a moon-struck bovine, studying his sleeping features in the pale light. Something was amiss about them. They were familiar and yet not quite right. Perhaps it was the hair that seemed to be wilder that usual. Funny, given that he wasn't tossing or turning much. I shrugged it off and
kept watching him. Not feeling one bit apologetic about the goofy grin I knew I sported.

  It was restful listening to his even breathing, even with my eyes wide open. Right up to the moment where the night air became obscured by a grayish fog. I blinked a few times, but it did not dissipate. On the contrary. It was getting worse.

  "This isn't fog," I said, jumping up and pulling Rafael's blanket with me. "Wake up! Something's on fire. You have to get out. You have to warn the others."

  The latter wasn't really necessary as I could hear shouting and hurried footsteps below. I rushed onto the balcony, saw the yellow glow of flames leaping hungrily past the roof of the smoke house. They were in search of fodder and sure to find it in low hanging palm fronds. Which would then pass the flame to the next tree and to the next and onto the very balcony I stood on.

  "Rafael!"

  He rolled onto his stomach, his face in a pillow. Exasperated, I flung the blanket like a lasso around me. It snagged on a heavy candle stick that tumbled from the nightstand against his back. Finally! He jerked up, coughing with the first breath he took. Disoriented, he tried seeing in the fast-growing smoke cloud. I wanted him to get out. He stumbled out of bed, too groggy from the smoke to be fully alert. I needed to get him down on his knees to where the air was still fairly breathable. I sent the blanket airborne, entangling it in his feet and sending Rafael crashing to his knees.

  "Sorry," I shouted, hurrying over and crouching down beside him. "It was the only thing I could think of to get you close to the ground."

  He coughed again, but crawled forward, reaching up into the smoke to open the door. The hallway was still quite clear and after a moment of shaking off the dizziness, Rafael got back on his feet. We ran outside and he joined the line of those passing water buckets. I was probably less than helpful, scurrying back and forth, worrying about everyone's well-being more than the fire itself. Where was Don Osorio? Front of the fire line. Good. And his wife Doña Silvia? Off to the side, attending to her aging mother who had difficulty breathing. Did she have some water? Yes. Juan Luis was soot-smeared, but alert and accounted for, Anacaona working by his side. Of course I assured myself several times that Rafael was fine and really in condition to be hefting heavy water buckets.