by C. J. Skuse
That’s what children do to a person. They rip you wide open, forever.
‘Tenoch? Tenoch?’ And with my little yarn gatita on his chest, he fell into a deep, snoring sleep.
Friday, 14 June – Holiday Inn el Agua, Rocas Calientes
Tenoch grew stronger by the day and was up and about again by the time Rafael had come back to me that Friday, like he’d promised.
Me and Raf spent a blissful few days together, barely leaving his room. And each morning when we’d appear late for breakfast, both burning with afterglow, his family would lead the hotel dining room in a round of applause which ordinarily would have been hella embarrassing but we just laughed.
With Dr Gonzales permanently at the house to look after Tenoch, I didn’t have to concern myself with his care at all so I could stay at the hotel indefinitely, joining in with the dancing, the late-night drinking games, the deep philosophical and political debates. And Rafael would kiss me and hold me as the night grew colder on the terrace and lend me his Venetian Bergamot-scented hoody when I began to shiver.
Seriously. It was like a fucking Hugh Grant movie, without the irritating posh friends and floppy hair.
Early that Friday evening, we headed out on the beach to feed the strays some of the scraps of our sandwiches at lunch. By chance, a group of biologists from a local conservation project were releasing buckets of hatched baby turtles into the ocean and we were invited to help. We took two Olive Ridley babies each and placed them on the sand about ten metres from the water’s edge. And we watched them all scurry up the wet sand, heading for the water, disappearing into the tumbling waves, never to be seen again.
‘They’re so tiny,’ I said, holding Rafael as we watched them all go, little black dots, swallowed up by the waves.
‘I wonder if any of them’ll make it. I overheard one of the volunteers saying only about one in a thousand get to adulthood.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Yeah. But the ones that do live to, like, a hundred years. Like tortoises.’
‘That’s pretty cool.’
We sat on the wet sand, watching the sun go down and the turtles swim away and the volunteers picked up their baskets and walked back up to their vans.
‘How come you never talk about your army career? I asked him.
‘Huh?’
‘We talk all the time. You ask about me, I ask about you. You tell me about your ex-wife, your favourite films, songs, pizza toppings. But you never ever talk about the army.’
‘Not much to say. I got kicked out.’
‘Yeah, but what was it like? Did you get to kill people?’
He looked at me. ‘Yes.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘I don’t wanna put those images in your mind.’ He kissed the centre of my forehead.
‘If they’re in your mind, I want them in mine as well,’ I said.
‘The last tour I was on,’ he sniffed, ‘I was burnt out. We were a contingent of ground combat troops supporting coalition forces against ISIS in Syria. It was my third tour. I’d seen some things on the last one I couldn’t process. Psych nurse said it was “part and parcel and I had to compartmentalise it” but I didn’t know how.’
‘Compartmentalise what?’
‘Seeing a woman stoned to death. Finding the charred body of a 12-year-old girl, set on fire for talking to a boy. On my second tour, our battalion came across a quarry in the desert where these people had been crucified. A few of ’em were kids. One was still alive. He’d been there for days. They haunt my dreams, these people.’
‘Did he live, the boy?’
He shook his head. ‘Another time, there was this house where an explosion had gone off – we were sent in to clear it – and I moved a couple planks out the way and there was a baby under the rubble. Covered in blood.’
‘Holy shit.’
‘My parents were so proud when I joined up,’ Raf continued. ‘It’s a big deal when a Latino gets honours in the American military. My dad has some crazy-assed debts on his business that he doesn’t think I know about but even so, they threw the biggest party. Then I found out about Tina and… I lost my shit. I don’t think I’ve ever fully got it back. Salomé says I wanted to get kicked out. She says I’m an artist with paint, not blood. She might be right. I thought it was for me but … I’ve still let them all down.’
‘No, you haven’t. They love you no matter what. I bet there are a lot of other military families who’d love to have their sons or daughters back home with them.’
He laughed, holding my face with one hand and kissing my cheek. ‘You’re talking like a mom.’
‘Am I? Oh.’ That pulled me up.
‘It’s OK, baby. You don’t need to make me feel better. I know I’ve fucked up. I’m 33 years old and I buss tables in my dad’s restaurant. I put up shelves and paint walls for my aunt. I fitted my sister’s wardrobe.’ He stared out to sea. ‘I don’t have a clue who I am now.’
‘Guess what,’ I said to him, bringing him back to face me. ‘I don’t know who I am either.’
‘You wanna find out who we are together?’
I nodded. ‘Big time.’
I liked how I was when I was with him – he smoothed the hate out of me, and I tried to hug and kiss the sadness out of him. But sooner or later he was going to see the real me – and that would be the ultimate clincher. He didn’t have to wait long either.
The following night, in fact.
We’d spent the perfect Saturday together at Campo A Mesa, a sunny, field-to-table restaurant up in the hills, eating lunch and petting ponies, lying in long grass, drinking bottomless mimosas and falling asleep in each other’s arms. And that evening we came back to the beachfront and ate fresh crab on the griddle, cooked by one of the fishermen, and Rafael and he got into an easy conversation which he translated so I could join in. It was a magical one-of-a-kind sort of day.
‘You have cilantro in your teeth,’ he said as we walked back to the hotel.
‘Do I?’ I said. ‘I don’t have a mirror.’
‘I’ll be your mirror,’ he said, turning to me face on.
‘You’ll need to get it out for me then, won’t you?’ I said as he leaned into me, holding my hands and kissed me slowly, deeply, edging his tongue inside my mouth and licking across my top teeth. I pulled away. ‘Did you get it?’
‘Nah, I’ll have to try again.’ And he did it again, this time all along the bottom set instead.
‘Got it now?’
‘Yeah, I got it,’ he said. I kissed him again. I didn’t ever want to stop. ‘Are you good at getting cilantro out of other places?’ I asked. ‘Cos I got some in some other places too.’
He got all embarrassed and dipped his head and I nudged him, giving his ass a little kick as he strode out in front of me.
‘It’s been a nice day, hasn’t it?’
‘The best,’ he said, putting his arm around me.
‘Don’t let’s stop having days like this.’
‘OK, if you insist.’
But, of course, there came the banana skin. They don’t just stop dropping from the sky because you’re in love. At least, not for me.
We were walking across the car park at the back of the hotel and two guys were sitting on a low wall, drinking.
‘Hey girl, you got some good titties there,’ the blond American shouted, followed by the laugh of his tall, red-haired friend.
‘Keep walking,’ said Raf, squeezing my hand a little tighter.
‘I’m not afraid of them,’ I said. ‘I’m afraid for them.’
‘Yeah. Me too.’ Rafael tried to laugh but he was winding tight.
The comments carried on, all across the parking lot. ‘Hey girl, come back and show us those big titties. Come on. You can do better than him!’
God knows why he’d said that. Rafael was a walking-talking Aztec god and he was skinny-assed dick crust in ill-fitting jeans.
‘Come on over here and suck on this big ol’ dick, babe!’
His mate was even worse – a ginger belch on legs wearing Letterman sweats and puffing out his chest to appear more hench than he actually was. I’d seen more hench on Judi Dench.
We were almost at the back steps to the sun terrace when they got in front of us. Raf squeezed my hand tighter and stepped in front of me.
‘Girl, come on, you got a twofer here. Where you going? Will you let us suck on those big titties?’
Hurr-hurr-hurr. In stereo. They proceeded to make suckling noises. I was strangely calm, God knows why.
Raf’s hackles were up. ‘Podrían cerrar la boca y tener un poco de respeto ese, huh?’
This only made them laugh louder. ‘OK, Beaner, whatever you say,’ said the blond.
‘Chinga Tu Madre!’ Raf yelled and spat on the ground before them. This only caused the red-haired one to unzip his fly and grab his package. He thrust it forward.
‘How about you watch us take your girl, cabrón? I’ll take the pink, and my boy here can take the stink. Then we switch.’
‘Yeah, let’s cuck the fucker!’ said Blondie.
‘Uh, do I get a say in any of this?’ I said, craning my neck around Raf’s broad shoulders. Hurrr-hurrr-hurrrrrrrrrrrr.
I was getting bored by this point. I did not want to fight – I just wanted to leave. I leaned into Raf. ‘Why don’t we go to my place and fuck each other’s brains out, hmm?’ I didn’t want to rise to their bait nor their flaccid penises which were, by this point, dangling quite openly in our general direction.
But Raf was steaming. ‘Yeah. Before I do something they’ll live to regret.’
We turned on our heels away from the hotel and towards the beach.
‘Hey, you gettin’ angry with us, pendejo?’
‘Keep walking,’ I said.
‘Girl, we’re not giving up on you!’
We headed down the steps to the beach. The walk seemed endless and made all the more difficult in the shifting sand, but after a short while, we couldn’t hear them anymore. Thought we’d lost them.
But they’d followed us. We got to the second set of steps along the beach and there they were, on the steps with their bottles, zips still undone.
‘Hey baby girl, where you been all my life?’ Hurr-hurr-hurr.
‘I’ve had enough of this,’ said Rafael, marching up the sand towards them and yanking the beer bottle out of the blond one’s hand, smashing it on the steps. The ginger one grabbed him to hold him back as the blond started punching him in the stomach.
By the time I got to them, Raf had straddled the blond on the ground and was punching his face as the redhead choked him in a headlock. My boy was fighting two guys at once – I’d never seen anything hotter. It was like live gay porn. Even so, I steamed in, picking up one of the bottles, and smashing the ginger guy over the head. Beer and blood spurted.
‘I got it!’ Rafael puffed as the ginge staggered backwards.
But I couldn’t let go. New Me wanted to do the right thing and leave it to the trained soldier, but Rhiannon didn’t want to be left out.
‘Take him,’ I said, nodding at the blond. ‘I got this one.’
I lurched my head back and nutted him square in the face, the way Dad liked to do, kicking him backwards into a plastic table and chairs. I was on him like a panther, mounting his trunk and grasping his head with one hand, half a glass bottle in the other, stabbing his face, his neck, his eye sockets. Stabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstab. Just like old times.
The man screamed and beat my arms, smashing into my throat with his fists as he writhed on the sand. I didn’t know what was happening until Rafael had hold of me, shouting
‘Let go, baby! Let go!’
I turned my attention to the guy’s shorts and yanked them down, grabbing his cock in one hand and the broken bottle in the other but before I could get stuck in, Rafael had pulled me away. The blond guy, now covered in blood too, scrabbled for his screaming, blind friend and dragged him up the beach, away from us.
‘We’ve gotta get out of here,’ Rafael panted, pulling me to my feet and taking my hand. ‘Come on.’
I dropped the bottle and we ran through the streets and didn’t stop until we had reached the cemetery where we could hide amongst the trees. We were both covered in blood, shaking like leaves and laughing like maniacs.
‘Fuck!’ Raf shouted, grabbing an empty jug from one of the graves and filling it with water from a nearby tap. He poured it over my hands first then his own to wash away the blood. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck! Where are you hurt?’ He held my face with his free hand.
‘I don’t think I am,’ I panted. ‘Nothing hurts. I feel amazing!’ And I laughed, hysterically, almost in his face. I was so happy – it was the first time ever something like that had happened and I hadn’t risen to the bait until I had to. And I had done it to protect Rafael. It was for him, not for me. I loved him. I loved me. I loved us.
‘Your lip’s bleeding,’ he said, caressing my face so gently.
‘So’s yours.’
He pulled off his shirt and tore it right down the sleeve, soaking it with water and padding it gently over my mouth. We caught our breaths and wiped our faces and he sat beside me on a tomb.
‘My God, you can throw a punch, girl.’ He dabbed at my mouth with the torn cloth, making a face I couldn’t read.
‘What’s that face for?’
‘Doesn’t that hurt you?’
‘No. It was fun beating someone up with you tonight.’
‘You really are a maniac. Where’d you learn to fight like that?’
‘I did warn you. Daddy made a soldier out of me.’
‘Your eyes went black, baby.’
‘They were hurting us. That’s all I could see. It’s like everything became loud in my head.’ I touched his lip. ‘Does that hurt?’
‘No, I’m good. I’m just thinkin’ ’bout you. What if he’d had a knife?’
‘I didn’t think about that. I would have killed for you tonight.’
‘I’d kill for you every night.’
And he held on tight to me – tight enough that I felt secure, but not so tight I couldn’t leave if I’d wanted to. When he pulled away, he removed the hair that had become stuck in the blood and looked me face on. ‘You know, my grandmother said something to me when she first met my ex-wife. She said, “Ella te debilitara, Rafael.” You know what that means?’
‘No.’
‘She will weaken you. You know what she said about you when she met you? “Ella te fortalecerà.” She will strengthen you. Abuela’s 98 and she’s never been wrong about anything.’
And we kissed so fiercely, blood trickling into my mouth, until I couldn’t tell whose I was tasting.
Sunday, 16 June – Holiday Inn el Agua, Rocas Calientes
Paco
I decided to go back to San Diego with Rafael and his family that Sunday evening – they had a flight booked for 8 p.m and I was going to join them to cement my fresh start. Raf had told them all about the men who’d attacked us and I’d won some major fam points for stepping up to defend him and Bianca had cuddled us both for the longest time, before clipping Raf around the ear for ‘starting a fight’.
‘I didn’t start it, Mom, they started it. We—’
‘—finished it,’ I added. Raf winked at me as his mother scanned his face, probably doing the X-ray thing for signs of internal bleeding.
‘She’s going to come back with us tonight, Mama.’
‘You are?’ said Bianca. ‘That’s wonderful! We will book your flight.’
‘No, it’s OK, I can do that, don’t worry.’
‘I insist, we pay for your flight. Nicolas can do it on his app. Let him know your passport number.’
‘I’ll have to get it – it’s back at the house.’
‘We have to be out of the rooms at noon, then we will go down to the beach for the afternoon until we have to go to the airport. You come, yes?’
‘Well, I should go back and spend some time with m
y uncle, I think, say goodbye. But thank you. I’ll meet you back here later.’
‘The cars will leave at six,’ she said before kissing me on both cheeks and grabbing a plate from the stack and reaching for the serving spoon in the scrambled egg.
‘I’ll pick you up about five thirty,’ said Raf as he saw me out of the hotel after breakfast and walked me back to my bike along the beachfront. He gripped my hand. ‘I’m real glad you’re coming back with us.’
‘Yeah, so am I.’
‘You got something on your mind?’
‘How did you know? I didn’t even know something was on my mind until you said it.’
‘I can tell with you. You go all quiet and you sort of do this staring thing. It’s, like, momentary but I see it.’
‘I’m gonna miss my uncle, that’s all. He’s been good to me.’
‘It’s not forever. You can come back whenever you want.’
‘I don’t think I can,’ I said and fell against him into a hug.
‘Why not?’
‘He’s not going to be… with us much longer,’ I said.
‘Oh baby, I’m sorry,’ said Raf, rubbing his hand up and down my back in long strokes, which was so soothing I almost fell asleep against him as he held me there. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I’ve been trying to block it out. Pretend it wasn’t happening.’
He didn’t seem to want any further explanation. Must have thought I meant cancer. ‘Do you want me to come back with you and get your stuff?’
‘No, I’ll be OK.’ I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. ‘Go have a good day with your fam. Say bye to Salomé for me. I’ll see you later.’
‘Five thirty,’ he said, not letting go of my hand. He pulled me back in as I tried to leave.
‘What’s up?’
‘Are you gonna be all right?’
‘Yeah. I got my bike.’
‘I can take you up there in the car. It won’t take ten minutes.’ I gave him the eyebrows. ‘I know. We gotta survive apart to be better together.’
‘Something like that.’
I gave him one final lingering kiss and unchained my bike from the racks near the ice cream shop. He waved me goodbye and I rode away.