“No. Do you have a boyfriend?”
“I did, but not anymore. He kissed my best friend.”
I’m relieved. She asks me why I’m here early in the season. Usually tourists arrive around the end of June. I think about saying that I just had an appendectomy and came to rest at Thierry’s, but I don’t want to lie to her. I just say that I came with my dad.
“Does he work at the oyster farm too?”
“No. He came to see Thierry.”
“Is he Thierry’s brother or your mother’s brother?”
I have to think fast: if Noemi meets my dad, she’ll notice that he doesn’t look like Thierry.
“He’s my mom’s brother,” I say.
“He’s nice, Thierry. Did you know he’s been in prison?”
“Yes. But how do you know that?”
“My father told me. He’s a policeman.”
I stop breathing. Noemi’s a nice girl, but when Dad learns that her father is a cop, I bet he won’t let me see her again.
We reach the end of the embankment. To get to Thierry’s house I have to keep walking on the sand. Noemi points to a house at the end of a street.
“That’s my house. Want to come over for a snack?”
I want to say yes, but I’m afraid to meet her father. What if he’s seen my picture?
“I don’t think—”
“Come on, no one’s home. My mother’s out and my dad’s at work until tonight.”
If her father is away, I guess I can go. I take off my wet shoes and walk barefoot too. The gravel digs into my heels, but it doesn’t hurt too much. Anyway, Noemi isn’t complaining, and I’m about to have a snack at her house.
We eat thick slices of chocolate cake and watch TV: we like the same cartoons. She explains what happened on episodes I missed. It’s one of the best afternoons I can remember, and one of the best cakes I’ve ever eaten. Then the phone rings.
When Noemi hangs up, she tells me her father said he’s on the trail of a bank robber who’s been on TV and to tell her mom he’ll be home late tonight.
My heart stars beating fast and I feel my face get hot. I look at the clock and say that I have to go.
I behave stupidly. I want to explain about my dad. I want to tell her that today is the first time I’ve felt normal since my dad’s picture was shown on TV. I want to say that sailing was great, that I wish we could be friends, that I’d like to come to her house every day, but I leave in a hurry, almost without saying goodbye.
I run to Thierry’s. I don’t think about the fact that Dad slapped my face. Just about how he has to flee.
“Dad, they’re looking for you!” I shout as I open the door.
He’s reading a book. “Who is ‘they’?” he asks, putting the book down in a flash.
“The cops! We have to go!”
My dad jumps up. While I tell him about Noemi, sailing, Noemi’s dad on the phone, and the cake, Thierry rushes in, out of breath.
“Rafael, they came to question me.”
“Anthony just told me. Where do I hide?”
“We’ll go during the night. For the time being, stay put. You’re okay here until tomorrow. Did the neighbors see you?”
“No. But they saw Anthony.”
“That’s all right. I told people at work that my nephew is visiting.” He turns toward me. “Anthony, remember, if anyone asks you, you’re my nephew, got it?”
I nod, shaking. I want Mom. I want to talk and fight with Lise, to play video games with Hassan, to stay silent on the sailboat, and to eat cake at Noemi’s. I don’t want my dad to go away. I don’t want to say that Thierry is my uncle. I don’t want the police to question me.
Dad sits me on his knees. “I’m going into hiding, Anthony. Don’t tell anyone, not even your new friend, understand?”
“I want to go with you.”
“No, not this time.”
Thierry is looking at us. I lean close to my father’s ear so Thierry won’t hear me. “I don’t want to stay with him,” I whisper.
“He’s my friend, Anthony, he’s helping me. You’re going to sleep here. I won’t be far.”
“You promise?”
“I swear.”
To delay going to bed, I ask Dad to turn on the radio and play cards with me. He sighs and helps me put my pajamas on. He starts to tell me a story—something about an underwater treasure and a prince who becomes an outlaw. I don’t remember exactly.
When I wake up, Dad is gone.
I hear noises in the kitchen. Thierry is doing the dishes. As soon as he sees me, he turns off the radio and folds the newspaper.
He makes me a cup of hot chocolate. I take a look at the paper. There’s a picture of my dad on the front page, the one that we saw at home on TV, where you can’t recognize him.
“Don’t worry,” Thierry says. “He’ll have to leave sooner, that’s all.”
“Can I see him one last time?”
“Of course. Tomorrow night’s the village fair. I’m in charge of the fireworks. Your father will help me set them off and then he’ll disappear.”
“What if someone recognizes him?”
“That won’t happen. It’ll be dark. You’ll be able to say goodbye then. I’ll take you home to your mom afterward.”
Thierry holds my hand on the way to the sailing club. He has huge, hairy tarantula-like hands that crush mine. He points to some huts built on stilts, with large nets hanging out. There are many of them, close to each other.
“We call that a fishery,” Thierry says. “Your father is there, in the third hut. We’ll see him tonight.”
Noemi is waiting for me at the club. Her hair is tied up because of the wind. She waves to Thierry. I want to ask her about her father’s search but I’m afraid she’ll suspect something.
I want to talk to her but I don’t know where to start, so we don’t speak.
When we’re out on the bay, she gives me the tiller. She’s looking straight at me, which makes me uncomfortable. I’m not thinking about my dad anymore.
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” she asks me.
Next thing I know, we’ve capsized into the water. I don’t know what happened. While we hold on to the daggerboard, a monitor comes over on his own sailboat and helps us lift up our sail. I’m so embarrassed! I don’t even look at Noemi.
We don’t say anything as we head home. She walks in front of me, barefoot, and I follow her in my wet shoes. I want to say I’m sorry about the boat, but I can’t utter a single word. I just keep on walking behind her. Finally she turns back and takes my hand. We sit on the embankment.
“Want to kiss me?” she asks.
Of course I want to kiss her
We eat a snack at Noemi’s house and she asks me if I want to stay longer; she says we can call Thierry to see if it’s all right. I would really like to stay, but I’m worried about her father seeing me. And I’m right to worry. Her dad comes home a few minutes later. He looks me in the eyes and I’m afraid he’ll recognize me. But he nods and smiles.
“Your parents won’t wonder what’s keeping you?” he asks.
“They will,” I say. “I’d better go now.”
I say goodbye to him and Noemi walks with me to Thierry’s. We kiss. She says that it would be nice to sail together tomorrow.
I take a shower. Thierry brings me dry clothes and asks if I want to go see my dad.
“Can I?”
“The police think he left on a boat,” Thierry says. “Put a sweater on and we’ll go to him.”
Dad is waiting for us on the beach, hidden by the rocks and the darkness. He asks me what I’ve been doing and if I’m not too bored. I don’t want to tell him that I have a girlfriend, so I talk about sailing and how the boat capsized. I want to ask him when he’s leaving, whether he’ll come back soon, and if he’ll send me postcards. But he’s the one who asks questions first.
“Will you help me with the fireworks?”
“Since when do you know how to make fireworks g
o off?” I ask him.
“Do you want to help or not? We can fire the last one together.”
“Sure.”
Thierry goes up to the hut and lifts the nets. Dad grabs some sand in his hands and tosses it away. The wind sends it back in our direction.
“Let’s go in,” he says.
It’s raining lightly, which I didn’t notice before. We go in to see Thierry. The hut is very small, with just a stove and a bed. The floor is made of badly joined planks; the wind comes up through them and I can hear the sea under our feet. The floor creaks. On the bed, I see a pair of binoculars.
Dad shows me a small window through which he’s seen me walking to the club with Thierry.
With a flashlight, we watch Thierry leaning over his nets. He’s caught one big fish and a lot of small ones.
We leave Dad and head back to Thierry’s house. On the way, we come across some policemen. Thierry takes my hand and says hello to them.
“Are they looking for my dad?” I whisper when we’ve passed them.
“Yes. But they won’t find him.”
“It’s all my fault.”
“No, Anthony, it’s not your fault.”
“You’re lying. I heard what you told him.”
“He shouldn’t have brought you with him, that’s true. It’s dangerous for you and for him. But even without you, they’d be looking for him.”
I fall asleep all by myself, with no night-light, and without feeling scared.
• 7 •
The Pyrotechnician
Thierry wakes me up early, right in the middle of a great morning dream. He opens the shutters; it’s gray outside and the rain knocks against the windows. He’s not going to the oyster farm today. Instead, he’s spending the day in the village to prepare for tonight’s fair. He has to set up the trestles and the boards for the dance floor, and he says I have to go with him. I’d like to tell him that I’d rather go sailing with Noemi.
“Can I come this morning and go sailing this afternoon?” I ask.
“Sure, if you like. Sailing is fun, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
I don’t tell him that what I especially like is being with Noemi.
In the village, everyone knows Thierry, so I can walk around without any problem. Shopkeepers even give me gifts: a pencil with the name of the village written on it, and a cap. Thierry introduces me to everybody as his nephew.
The supply of fireworks for tonight is stored in a shed near a church. Thierry takes me there and tells me that I’m going to help him carry the load to his truck. I just have to be very careful, since firework shells are fragile.
“And my dad?”
“We’ll meet him later on the beach to prepare for tonight.”
“What if someone spots him?”
“Not likely. I do the fireworks every year, and somebody always helps me. There’s no reason for anyone to think it’s your dad. Besides, they believe he’s already gone.”
Thierry still has more to do after I finish loading the shells into the truck. He tells me to go wait in the church. There’s no one in there. Near the altar among the candles, I see a boat all made of gold, real gold. Even the sails are gold. Since I’m alone, I touch it. It’s cold and smooth. I’ve never touched so much gold before. Whenever I’ve visited castles, which always have a lot of gold, the tour guide always warns everyone to keep their hands off everything.
Thierry honks his horn and I come out of the church.
“It’s nice in there, isn’t it? Some fishermen had it built to thank God for saving their lives in a storm.”
“I don’t know if I believe in God.”
“Well, I do.”
We reach the dunes. Dad comes down from the hut and sits in the back of the truck.
We drive up to the wet sand; then we walk on the beach and Thierry starts to dig holes.
“Just dig holes like mine, Anthony.”
“Deep?”
“Like mine.”
A fine mist starts coming down. There’s no one else on the beach. We dig holes to put the shells in. They have to hold until tonight, so we’ll cover them with plastic trash bags and cardboard boxes to protect them from the rain and wind.
Thierry is showing me the shells when I notice a shape farther out. Dad jumps up right away, tense. Thierry squints to try to see who it is.
“It’s okay,” Thierry says. “It’s Noemi, the cop’s daughter.”
“Go see her, Anthony.”
“Can’t she come here?”
Thierry and Dad look at each other and Thierry nods.
“I’d like to show her the shells,” I say.
“If you want.”
I run toward her. She’s barefoot, even though it’s freezing. I’m happy to see her, because this time I’m dressed in my regular clothes, and wearing my Nikes instead of the rotten Top-Siders Thierry lent me.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi. What are you up to?”
“I’m helping Thierry with the fireworks. You want to see a shell?”
“I thought kids weren’t allowed?”
We go together to look at the shells. Noemi asks questions, which Thierry answers, and I help my dad unroll the yellow ribbon that will mark off the security perimeter. Since fireworks are dangerous, Dad says it’s important to keep people from coming too close. Thierry begins putting the shells in the holes.
Noemi goes to get sandwiches and juice, and we have a picnic on the beach even though the weather is bad. It’s like being on vacation, minus Mom and Lise. Lise always complains that she’s tired of picnics.
After we eat, Noemi and I leave Thierry to go to the club. Dad’s not around anymore. Thierry signaled me to go and not to worry. I think Noemi saw us exchange a look. Maybe she understood what it was all about.
On the water, I see motorboats patrolling between the sailboats.
“It’s my dad! There on that boat!” Noemi shouts.
Noemi gestures wildly with her arm, and a Zodiac comes close to us. Her father is wearing his uniform, and he’s with other policemen. We ask him what they’re doing.
“We’re watching for Rafael Cantes. He’s in the area, so we’re inspecting all boats.”
Thierry is wrong. They’re still looking for my dad. I have to warn him, but I don’t want Noemi to suspect anything. If I tell her the truth, I might get back on land faster, and Dad will have a better chance of escaping.
But what if I tell her about Dad and she doesn’t understand? Then what? Or what if I tell her and she ends up betraying her father by helping me? If my dad gets caught, I could see him in the visiting room, but if he escapes, I won’t see him for a very long time. And if he gets caught because of me, he won’t want to see me ever again.
I should have told Dad why he has to give the money back. Lise is right; he’ll never be free otherwise.
The sailing monitors order all boats back to the dock in case the situation becomes dangerous.
As we’re putting the equipment away, the police boats continue to circle and search the remaining boats out on the bay.
Noemi asks me to meet her in front of the club after the fireworks so we can ride the bumper cars.
It’s dark now, and the tide is high.
The sand is wet, and our markers are still visible. Thierry, Dad, and I remove the trash bags and the cardboard boxes covering the shells.
People are arriving from the village. We can hear music from the fair and the squeals of excited kids, and the smell of grilled sausages, beer, and chocolate crepes fills the air. It’s almost like Bastille Day, only last year on Bastille Day, Lise and I were at summer camp. It was very cloudy and we never saw the fireworks. I fell asleep. But this year that’s not going to happen. This year I’m the one who will help light the fuses.
The fireworks are about to start.
I can see that my dad is nervous. He smokes cigarette after cigarette, and I start to wonder how he’s able to light the matches before the wind blows out the f
lames. Thierry is like a watchdog. He zeroes in on people who come too close and tells them to keep away. He talks to them loudly, with that scary, gruff voice of his.
The first shell is fired; it makes a small blue flame. I try to watch it climb into the sky but it goes too fast. I don’t have time to see the shower. I see only the last sparks, which are kind of yellow. It smells good. On the embankment, people start to clap. I see my dad smile. He keeps lighting the fuses, quickly now. People keep clapping; the sea is rising; there’s a nice light breeze.
Dad and Thierry spring from shell to shell. They remind me of acrobats.
The shells explode in the sky faster and faster, people applaud louder and louder, and the flares form gray clouds that float and fall down quickly. I can’t see the real stars, only the blue, red, pink, green, and yellow colors of the flares. I like the blue ones best—the most beautiful, for sure—but there are very few of them.
Suddenly the clapping stops. The crowd starts to part, as if it’s making way for something. I hear a siren. Men start to run in all directions. They shout. I hardly have time to see my dad climb quickly into a small dinghy that I didn’t notice until now. He thought of everything, I see.
I don’t know what comes over me: I help push the dinghy out. Dad starts the motor and says goodbye to me, quickly, in a whisper, but he takes a long look at me. I look at the flares: the final one still has to be fired, the one he and I were supposed to fire together. I’ve been watching my dad all night, so I know what to do. I light the fuse. If Yaya were here, she’d faint with fear.
The police are running over to us. Thierry looks at them, motionless. He doesn’t try to flee: he’s waiting for them.
Once they take Thierry away, I’m alone. I take care of the remaining shells, which doesn’t give me time to think about anything else. I concentrate so hard that I could make spoons bend just by looking at them.
I see Noemi’s father in uniform. I hide so he can’t see me, but he’s not paying attention to me anyway. He doesn’t even seem to recognize me. I hear him swear and he looks on as my dad goes off in the dinghy. He shouts that he needs a Zodiac.
On the Run Page 6