by Sasha Leone
For a while there, I don’t think he knew where he was leading us. To him, I don’t think it really mattered, as long as it was away from the one place Lady knew we were.
Poor Lady...
Suddenly, the rickety floorboards of the makeshift mansion creak and a door rattles open. My first instinct is to cover Oscar. Even if Angel has brought us to friends, no one outside of our little circle knows about our son, and the instinct to protect him from everything and anything is strong. It seems to be strong in Angel, too, because his first reaction to the opening door is to step in front of us, blocking Oscar and I from view.
“Ah, Mr. Montoya, how good to see you again.” The voice is old but full of a wise energy. I peak under Angel’s hulking shoulder and get a glimpse of an elderly man with white hair and a bent back. He shuffles over to a big chair in the center of the room; it almost looks like a makeshift throne.
“Wilmar,” Angel nods, respectfully. The panic in his voice is gone, but there’s still an anxiousness there that’s hard to miss.
“I see you’ve brought a guest.” Wilmar pops his head around Angel like a turtle. “Oh, two guests, it seems.”
Angel protectively re-positions himself between us and Wilmar again. “We’re looking for a safe place to stay,” Angel says.
Somehow, Wilmar is able to stretch his turtle-like neck out long enough to see past Angel’s broad shoulders again.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Catalina,” he smiles. “I’ve heard so many wonderful things.”
From who? I want to ask, but I let Angel do the talking. “And who is that peaceful little bundle of joy in your arms?”
Angel ignores his question. “Can we hideout nearby?”
It’s strange, hearing Angel asks for anything. Usually, he just takes, but I guess these are dire times.
“Of course, my boy,” Wilmar smiles. “I will have a room set up for the three of you immediately.” The old man turns back to the door and cups his hands over his mouth. “Anna!”
For a silent moment, my pounding heart stops beating. Could it be?
It only takes a split-second to confirm that it is.
“Anna!?” I’m saying her name almost even before she bursts through the door.
It’s the young seamstress who helped me escape Dante’s wedding.
“Catalina!” She cries back, immediately rushing forward to embrace me. Angel allows her to pass, but Anna stops when she sees the precious bundle wrapped up in my arms.
She covers her mouth with a straight hand and gasps. “Who is that little cutie!?”
My first instinct is to spill my guts to her. The truth is, I’m proud of my baby boy. He’s been through so much already in his short life and he’s been just as good about it all as any mother could ever ask. But the moment my mouth opens, something else tugs it shut again. How much should I reveal? Outside of a very small and tight circle, no one knows about Oscar. Unless someone got Lady to talk...
“This is Oscar,” I say, not lying, but the fact that he’s my son, our son, could put him in so much danger that I just can’t bring myself to elaborate any further.
Anna seems to pick up on my hesitancy. She respects my vagueness, while also appearing to understand what it means. This is my child. My eyes dart over to Angel; he looks just as apprehensive as I feel. This is our child.
“What an adorable little cherub,” Anna lilts, peering into my arms. “And so quiet! What a blessing!”
It feels so nice to hear something positive about Oscar from an outsider. “He is a blessing, isn’t he?” I smile, looking down at my baby boy.
Wilmar’s bones creak as he pushes himself off of his makeshift throne and onto his feet. “My dear,” he addresses Anna. “It looks like we’ll be having company tonight. Would you mind preparing a room for our guests?”
Anna’s excitement at the proposal is almost enough to mask my desperate fear—but it also serves to fan the flames of my guilt. If we leave, we’ll be leaving people like Anna behind; people who’ve risked their lives for the good of my family.
Oscar wriggles in my arms and I can’t help but sigh.
If we stay here and something happens to us, then will those who’ve helped us have sacrificed their lives for nothing?
The conflict threatens to tear me apart from the inside as I follow Anna out of the makeshift office. Angel stays behind to discuss matters with Wilmar.
“How romantic!” Anna lilts, when we’re out of sight. “The rebel prince and the princess staying here, right next door to me!”
“You don’t live here?” I ask, subtly sniffing my armpits. I don’t feel like a princess. I’m dirty and bruised and oh-so exhausted. There was a small shower in the corner of our bunker, but it had no curtains and I only ever remembered to use it every other time that Lady went for supplies.
Poor Lady... she’s another one we’d be leaving behind. How could we do that to her? Her kindness has literally saved my family.
A heavy responsibility nearly drags me through the rickety floorboards as Anna leads me up a tight cement spiral staircase to the third floor.
“I live with my family just across the street, but I often do housework around here for Wilmar. He’s so kind and generous that I’d probably help him out for free if he asked... but don’t tell him that!” Anna giggles and I force a friendly smile onto my face. Her levity is a welcome change of pace, but I just can’t bring myself to feel joyous right now. So many things have gone wrong, and I still have the biggest decision of all to make.
“How’s your... I mean... How are...” I want to ask Anna how she’s feeling but I just can’t quite seem to settle on how to say it. We both experienced the same chaotic violence at the wedding, and I know how badly it’s haunted me. It’s likely that I killed a man, and Anna’s threading needle was just as bloody as mine when I saw her last.
“I’m not bad,” Anna says, seemingly oblivious to what I’m getting at. From behind, I study her skin for signs of damage, but I don’t spot any. She practically bounces up the stairs. “Though, I am still a little sore from the wedding...” For a split-second, I swear I hear the hint of something very heavy and disturbed in her voice, but she trails off quickly enough to disguise it. Anna may be better at hiding her pain from the outside world, but I can still sense it in her. Everybody is fighting for their lives now; it’s not just me.
“Me too,” I respond, forcing out a half-chuckle to keep from sounding too dark. “That was crazy.”
“So crazy,” Anna agrees, before I see her head fall again from the weight of the memory. “I’ve been trying not to think about it so much, though. You know? It’s almost too crazy.”
I nod and hold Oscar a little tighter in my arms. “I know exactly what you mean,” I assure her. “There was footage of the aftermath on the news...”
“Yeah, I saw that, too,” Anna mumbles, before opening a door and changing her demeanour.
Faint beams of sunlight shimmer in through a half-closed window. Outside I can hear birds chirping and even children playing... but it’s all undercut by a constant rumble in the distance—people are still fighting; still dying.
“I think you should stay up here,” Anna says, sweeping her arm around the charming little room like it’s a grand showcase. “This area is pretty safe because of Wilmar, but, god forbid, if you have to suddenly escape, this room has a secret door that leads straight to the roof—and if that fails, you can just use the window.”
A window...
How long was I stuck in that underground bunker? It’s hard to tell. Time went by like a dream down there. Now, a window sounds like heaven to me.
“This is so nice, thank you,” I offer.
Oscar stirs in my arms and Anna tilts her head with innocent curiosity. “He’s so cute,” she sings. “Oh, but we don’t have any baby food!” Her finger finds her lips as she tries to figure out how to change that. “... I can go out and get some.”
A sharp pain cuts through my chest at the t
hought. Going out to get supplies is too dangerous; it’s what Lady was doing when she was captured...
Before I can express my concerns, Anna perks up. “Oh wait, no! I don’t even have to go far. Marta’s daughter just had a baby, I bet they have loads of extra formula. They’re pretty much hoarders,” she giggles, as if the act of kindness isn’t any big deal. Maybe, in normal times, it wouldn’t be such a grand gesture, but during a violent revolution? I’m ready to canonize anybody who helps me.
It’s funny, I’ve been secluded for so long now that the memory of living in a connected community fills me both with a bittersweet nostalgia and a nerve-racking anxiety. Who can I trust? I remember never having to question that, not back when I lived with Marcela...
Suddenly, another sharp pain shoots through me. I nearly crumple over.
Marcela...
Her cold blue hand still reaches out for help in my nightmares some nights. How many people have suffered because of me? How many more will?
“Marta’s husband actually fought for you at Dante’s wedding,” Anna mentions as she fluffs the sheets on the bed in the far corner of the room.
I’m only half listening. My mind has been transported back to my home town. Happy memories of friends and parties and holidays mix in with the dread of what became of it all. Dark plumes of smoke muddy the good times, and soon all I can remember is the death and destruction.
“I’m sure he would be thrilled to meet the two of you. I think he’s been to one of Angel’s speeches before, but I don’t think he’s ever gotten a chance to...”
“Who?” I ask, suddenly snapping back to the here and now.
“Marta’s husband. Jeison.”
“He fought at the wedding?”
Anna nods.
“He’s... did he... I mean, he still wants to meet...” There’s another question I’m struggling to ask. This time, however, Anna seems to know exactly what I’m getting at.
“He’s fine,” she assures me. “Well, actually, he has a few nasty cuts, but nothing a few weeks of rest won’t fix.”
A sigh of relief escapes my lungs, but the moment it does, I’m reminded of all those bloody white sheets. Jeison might have made it back to his family, but how many others didn’t?
Before I can become too racked with guilt, Oscar stirs awake in my arms.
“Mama,” he smiles and my heavy heart melts.
I smile down at him and gently brush the sleep from his eyes. “Wakey-wakey,” I whisper.
Anna’s at my side in an instant. “Oh, what gorgeous green eyes he has!” she gasps.
Oscar’s gaze is immediately on the new woman. He stares at her with complete wonder, his eyes as wide as milk saucers.
His reaction is completely understandable. Except for Angel, he hasn’t ever met anyone new in the entirety of his short life. Lady, Juan and I have been the extent of his interactions—I can only hope that it doesn’t stunt his growth, social or otherwise.
“Who’s a cute little baby” Anna sings.
Oscar tilts his head to the side, like he’s trying to understand what exactly is happening. This definitely isn’t how Angel greeted him during their first encounter.
“You are,” I answer for him with a gentle bop to his nose. That seems to snap him out of his curious daze. A little laugh escapes his even tinier lips.
“Oh, I just love babies,” Anna squeals. “Let me go get him some formula. I need him to love me!”
Before I can ask her to at least be careful, she’s gone. A soft wind blows in through the half-open window and I close my eyes and try to relish it. For now, we’re still safe. Be thankful, Cat.
Oscar tugs my eyes back open by pulling on a strand of my hair. “What is it?” I ask, still lost in the strange peace of the little bedroom.
“Boo-boo,” he gurgles. “Dada, boo-boo.”
It’s hard to tell what he wants more, his lunch or his father. The fact that both are within his reach fills me with a soft reassurance. Like most things these days, though, it doesn’t last long.
“What am I going to do?” I ask my baby boy. He tilts his head like a puppy, trying to understand.
“Dada!” he repeats, louder this time.
I don’t know whether to cry or smile. Angel. Do I follow his lead or blaze my own trail? My conscience won’t let me think in peace. All I want is a better life for Oscar, but is his future brighter if we run or if we stay?
It’s an impossible question... but I’ve survived the impossible before.
“We’ll figure this out,” I whisper, more to myself than to my baby boy. “We have to.”
22
Angel
The wind wakes me up in the morning.
There are no chirping birds, no sounds of children playing; even the fighting happening off in the distance is blanketed by the howling wind.
I get out of bed and slam the rickety window shut. It’s been so long since I’ve slept near any source of fresh air, but the last thing I want to do is wake up Oscar and Cat.
“Angel?”
Shit. I’m too late.
“Go back to bed,” I tell Cat. She needs her rest, especially if we’re going to make it out of here as soon as I want.
“Is everything alright?” she asks, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Yeah. It’s just another turn in the weather.”
That seems to satiate her early morning curiosity. Cat stretches out and lets a big yawn escape her lips. “Why didn’t we come here sooner?” she asks, looking around the cramped little bedroom with a relaxed gaze. That’s something I haven’t seen in a while—hell, have I ever really seen Cat completely relaxed?
Oscar whimpers from below her and she reaches to pick him up off the mattress. He slept with us last night, alternating between using my chest as a pillow and cuddling up on the little sliver of mattress between Cat and I. He’s still sleeping, and I plan to keep it that way; so, I keep my voice low.
“We’re not as safe here as we were in the bunker,” I tell Cat. There’s no use in hiding the truth from her. If I’m going to get her on board with this whole escape plan, she’s going to need to understand just how dangerous it is here for us, for her, for Oscar. “Already now, two extra people know about Oscar and our whereabouts, maybe already more. I like Anna, but she went to get those bottles for Oscar from a neighbour. What did she tell them they were for?”
“... I’m sure she was discreet,” Cat mumbles, standing up with Oscar in her arms.
“Maybe, maybe not,” I respond. “Are we really willing to risk our family on the whims of outsiders?”
That causes Cat to furrow her brow in contention. “Isn’t that what we’re already doing?” she whispers, her voice is sharp and determined. Her squinted brown eyes study the little room we’ve found shelter in. “Not only here, but with the whole revolution. We’d be lost without the ‘outsiders’ who have already helped us.”
I bite my tongue. It looks like Cat hasn’t been able to shed that irritating conscience of hers quite yet. So be it. Sure, I’d rather have her willingly get on board with my plan, but even if she never does, it’s not a huge deal. This is my family we’re talking about, my son; I’ll drag them onto whatever ship I deem to be the safest, even if it’s the last thing my shipmate wants to do.
That’s part of being a leader, a captain; it’s the way life goes when you’re in charge—sometimes, you just have to do what’s best for everyone, even if someone doesn’t like it.
“They’d be just as lost without us,” I retort, and I truly believe it... to a certain extent.
We’ve been mutually benefitting each other, the people of Colombia and I. Right now, I need to leave the fight for the sake of my family, and they need to keep fighting for the sake of theirs. I’ve already called up my friends in Paris and Dublin and had shipments of weapons delivered into the hands of those who need it, and there’s more on the way.
The revolution is being fought with my resources, and we have a chance to win b
ecause of it. No guilt tripping by Catalina is going to make me think any differently, because in the end, I know what I’m doing.
“Whatever,” Catalina mumbles, just as Oscar’s big eyes flutter open.
“Mama,” he smiles, tugging at her long messy hair.
Cat gives him a kiss on the forehead and I let the matter drop for a moment to go over and grab his chubby little hand.
“Good morning, buddy.”
“Dada, boo-boo,” Oscar demands, reaching out for me to hold him. Cat lets me take my boy and I wrap him up in my arms.
“Looks like I’m still just a butler, huh?” I tease.
“I’ll fetch the formula from downstairs,” Cat yawns. She’s only wearing a long t-shirt, and when she turns to leave, the bottom flutters up just enough to give me a tempting view of her tight little ass.
I bite my lip with desire, before the door slams shut and fatherhood finds me alone with my son. He nuzzles his head into my chest and I let Cat’s body fade from my head.
When was the last time we even fucked? When was the last time I even thought about it?
I’ve been so pre-occupied with everything that the one thing that initially drew me to Cat has been lost in the background.
Sure, we slept together last night, but we barely touched. All that mattered was Oscar’s comfort. I don’t regret it, but a man has needs...
It probably doesn’t help that she’s mad at me. Cat doesn’t agree with my approach to dealing with Oscar’s safety and I get that, but it’s not going to change my mind. I know what’s best for us, and it comes from knowledge I’ve gained over years of experience. Danger may never stop being dangerous, but I’m certainly more used to dealing with it than most, and that includes Cat.
“Dada, boo-boo,” Oscar mumbles into my chest.
“It’s on its way,” I assure him.
Suddenly, the familiar sound of my phone buzzing alive interrupts the silence that surrounds us. For some strange reason, my initial reaction is to ignore it.
That’s an odd response... Usually, any news, business or otherwise, has me chomping at the bit, but with Oscar in my arms, everything else suddenly feels like more of a burden than a necessity. Right now, I’m spending time with my son, and the rest of the world can go to hell while I am.