Protectors

by Kris Nelscott

  Pammy expected the baby to be crying by now. Especially after Eagle had examined her.

  “Are babies supposed to be this quiet?” Pammy asked Strawberry.

  “Babies are all different from each other,” Strawberry said. “Maybe she’s just a good one, quiet.”

  “They learn,” Stella said. “They’re human inside that tiny body. They know when things are bad.”

  “She’s awfully young to know that,” Strawberry said. “But the doc says she’s okay, so I’m thinking she’s okay.”

  Pammy almost corrected Strawberry again. Eagle was not a doctor. Eagle hated being called a doctor.

  But Pammy didn’t say anything, not with Strawberry treating the baby so well.

  “I think she just needs some sleep,” Strawberry said. “Her carrier’s in the kitchen. I’ll put her down in there until we decide what to do with her.”

  Her, not them. Pammy noticed. She wasn’t sure Stella had.

  Strawberry didn’t look at either of them as she opened the kitchen door and disappeared inside.

  Pammy stood for a moment, feeling at loose ends. She knew that Eagle needed the time alone in the locker room. Eagle had a knack for talking to injured women, getting them to admit what really happened, a knack Pammy hadn’t yet learned.

  “You going to go with her?” Stella asked.

  Pammy frowned, looking over at Stella. She was standing, arms crossed, staring at the kitchen door.

  “I don’t know anything about children,” Pammy said.

  “I wasn’t thinking of the baby,” Stella said. “It sounded like Strawberry might tell you how she can help. She certainly doesn’t want to tell me.”

  Strawberry had volunteered that information, but Pammy wasn’t sure she wanted Strawberry’s help. Pammy wasn’t sure what kind of help Strawberry could give.

  “I guess I could find out,” Pammy said, but she sounded as dubious as she felt.

  She glanced at the locker room door, wondering what they would do if Norma was too injured to take care of the child.

  “I’ll get you when they come out,” Stella said. Then she crossed her arms and walked over to the plate-glass window, clearly taking herself out of the conversation.

  Pammy sighed, rotated her stiff shoulders, and wished the stress would ease. This was as bad as she had imagined. No, it was worse because of that baby.

  All three women had to take action, even if Norma didn’t. If Norma were childless and decided to go back to her husband, Pammy would have done nothing. She’d been through that before; she’d learned not to get involved with a domestic, just like her father used to say.

  But Pammy couldn’t just sit by with an innocent life at stake. Clearly Luciano Paolinie was the kind of man who enjoyed hurting small vulnerable things, maybe even destroying them.

  That baby had to be taken away from him, somehow. And given Norma’s condition, there wasn’t enough time to find a good lawyer to see if they could do some behind-the-scenes work in getting Norma out.

  If, and that was a big if, the city fathers didn’t get involved.

  Stella looked over her shoulder. Her reflection, in the darkened window, seemed to move more impatiently than Stella actually had.

  “Go,” she said.

  She wanted to know what was coming next. She knew that this part was out of her hands.

  If Strawberry didn’t have any realistic ideas, then Pammy wasn’t sure what would happen. Because the choices she could foresee were bad ones.

  Clearly that’s all Stella could foresee, as well. Without a family to help, Norma had hardly any options. And the woman that Pammy had observed didn’t seem strong enough to step out on her own.

  Pammy didn’t like the idea that the only person who might be able to help Norma was Strawberry.

  But somehow, they had ended up in that position.

  Pammy rotated her head, trying to loosen even more muscles. A tension headache lurked. She made herself shake her arms as she walked toward the kitchen.

  The room still smelled of old coffee. Strawberry was pacing with the baby, humming a tune that Pammy recognized but couldn’t identify.

  “You’re good with her,” Pammy said.

  “So I’m told,” Strawberry said drily. She had moved the baby carrier to the table, and was adjusting the blanket with one hand, while holding the baby with the other.

  Pammy moved to the table, and grabbed the edge of the blanket. It was soft and warm. She laid it out flat, then folded it back.

  Strawberry eased the baby into it, then pulled the blanket over her, brushing the wisps of hair again.

  Pammy stepped back. She didn’t want to get attached to this child in any way.

  “You said you might be able to help,” Pammy said quietly.

  “Yeah,” Strawberry said. “I can’t tell them, though. They’ll hate me.”

  “Them?” Pammy said.

  “The doc and Mrs. D’Arbus. They’re, like, so square, and the doc, she’s, y’know, military.”

  Pammy frowned. “I’m not sure why Eagle’s military experience is relevant. She’s not going to turn you in to the government.”

  Strawberry continued to brush the baby’s forehead. “You don’t know that.”

  “I can’t imagine any situation in which she would do that,” Pammy said.

  “I can,” Strawberry said. Then she took a deep breath and stood up.

  The baby blinked at her, then the tiny eyes closed. She was tired.

  Pammy watched as the child slid into sleep. Strawberry didn’t, though. She was watching Pammy.

  “If I tell you,” Strawberry said quietly, “you can’t narc.”

  “Narc?” Pammy asked. She’d heard the term, but never in relation to herself.

  “Tell the police,” Strawberry said. “Or anybody.”

  “I can’t promise that,” Pammy said.

  “Then I’m not sure I can help,” Strawberry said.

  Pammy let out a small breath. She needed to hear Strawberry out. It wasn’t as if Pammy were averse to doing something illegal. She did things on the shady side of the law all the time, it seemed. These days, that seemed like the only way to help people.

  “I can’t…you gotta promise,” Strawberry said. “I can’t tell you if you don’t promise. I mean, it’s like helping this baby or keeping quiet. And that sucks, man.”

  And that was true, for all of them. Norma, Stella, and that bastard who had fathered this child had put Pammy and Strawberry in a terrible position.

  Pammy looked at the baby’s little face, eyes closed, long lashes against the pink cheeks. Underneath that thin little shirt was a bruise the size of a grown man’s hand.

  “All right,” Pammy said. “I promise. I won’t narc.”

  Strawberry lifted her head, her chin jutting out just a little. She looked fierce.

  “You better hold to that promise,” she said, with no trace of young woman in her voice. It was as fierce as her expression. “Because if something happens in the next few days, I’ll blame you.”

  Pammy’s heart pounded. “What do you mean, something happens?”

  “If the cops show up or something,” Strawberry said. “It’ll all be on you. And I won’t be quiet about it.”

  Pammy straightened. “I don’t like being threatened in my own place of business.”

  Strawberry’s cheeks grew red, but her gaze remained intense. “I’m being clear. Because I’m trusting you with a very big secret.”

  Pammy could back out right now. She could tell Strawberry to remain silent. But Pammy didn’t. She needed to know now, not just because of this baby, but also because she needed to know who she was letting into her gym.

  “All right,” Pammy said, although she wasn’t sure quite what she was saying “all right” to. “Tell me.”

  Strawberry nodded. She bit her lower lip, then took a deep breath.

  “I work with a group that gets kids to Canada,” she said.

  Pammy frowned. “Kids?”r />
  “Guys. Who got drafted.” Strawberry’s voice was nearly a whisper.

  “Oh.” Pammy let out a small breath of air. Since they’d been talking about the baby, she had been thinking children when Strawberry said kids, not college-age boys.

  “We got a system,” Strawberry said in that same soft voice. “We get new identification, we get them across the border, we give them to a Canadian group, and they start new lives. It’s pretty small, and we’re pretty exclusive. But I know that they would help Norma. And the thing is, for her it wouldn’t be illegal.”

  “Except for the new identification,” Pammy said. “Don’t you work with someone on that?”

  “In Canada,” Strawberry said. “We’d get her the right kind of papers.”

  “Then how will she cross the border?” Pammy asked. “They don’t just wave you through anymore.”

  She noticed that a year ago, when she took an impromptu vacation in Victoria. The easy drive into Canada now required declarations and automobile inspections, probably at the request of the U.S. government.

  “I know they don’t,” Strawberry said. “But it’s an open border. And there are a lot of places that you can drive across without any border guards at all.”

  Pammy felt her cheeks heat. “You know where they are?”

  “They’re on maps. They’re not hard to find,” Strawberry said. “The trick is staying in Canada. I think it’ll be a lot easier for Norma than it is for some twenty-one-year-old single guy.”

  Strawberry was probably right about that.

  “Besides,” Strawberry said, “she might not have to get any Canadian identification. Lots of guys survive without it. If she’s worried about that.”

  Pammy looked down at the sleeping baby because she didn’t want to stare at Strawberry. Pammy had no idea if Norma would do any of that. She would have to give up everything.

  To save the child. Hadn’t she already put herself in jeopardy to do that?

  Pammy took a deep breath. “How do you propose that we get Norma out of here without telling the others the plan?”

  “Just say I’ll handle it,” Strawberry said.

  Pammy had no idea how Eagle would feel about that. But maybe it didn’t matter.

  Still, saying that Strawberry was going to handle all of this would seem arbitrary from Eagle’s point of view. And Pammy had no idea how invested Stella was going to be either.

  “At the very least,” Pammy said, “we’ll have to tell Norma.”

  “No, we don’t,” Strawberry said.

  That surprised Pammy. She had always told the women she was helping what she planned to do. “You’re saying that we just drive her to Canada, and leave her there?”

  “Not quite,” Strawberry said. “I’m proposing that we tell her we’ll get her someplace safe, that it’ll take a couple days to get there since we’ll probably have to stop once or twice. She won’t have any idea where we are, except north. Once she’s in Canada, she can decide if she wants to stay or not.”

  It sounded sensible. It sounded like the kind of thing Pammy would plan. Make sure the woman is safe, and then leave it up to her.

  That wouldn’t guarantee that the baby would be safe, but it would at least take Pammy and Strawberry out of the equation. They would be able to content themselves with the idea that they had done everything they could.

  There were a lot of places this plan could go wrong. Including the drivers. This underground railroad—to use Strawberry’s term from earlier—was designed for young men of draft age, not for women.

  Which probably meant that the drivers and the contacts were male.

  “Do you have someone that you trust to take her up there?” Pammy asked.

  “No,” Strawberry said.

  Pammy stiffened. She looked over at Strawberry. Strawberry’s hand was cradling the baby’s cheek softly, but her gaze was hard.

  “I’ll drive her,” Strawberry said. “I’ll make sure she and Raquel are all right.”

  Strawberry had bonded with this baby. That was probably good. At least, Pammy hoped it was good.

  “What about school?” Pammy asked.

  Strawberry smiled, just a little, still stroking the baby’s forehead. “It’s summer session. Everyone misses some classes. It’s expected.”

  She wasn’t wrong about that.

  “You’ve given this some thought,” Pammy said.

  Strawberry took a deep breath. “Eagle said I don’t make a difference. She wasn’t entirely wrong.”

  That tension headache started working its way up Pammy’s neck again. “You can’t do this just because Eagle challenged you.”

  “Sure I can.” Strawberry nodded her head, her jaw set. “I thought about it. She’s right. I talk a great game. But talk’s easy. Now it’s time to step up.”

  “You’re going from talking to protecting an injured woman with a baby,” Pammy said. “You’d be driving them across hundreds of miles.”

  “I know,” Strawberry said.

  “I’m not sure you do,” Pammy said. “I’ve dealt with women like Norma just a little bit, and the one thing that surprises me about them is how often they change their minds.”

  “What do you mean?” Strawberry asked.

  “One day, they want their husbands out of their lives. The next day, they’re back in the relationship, pretending everything is fine.” Pammy hated that. Maybe that was one reason she tried to keep her distance. She had dealt with it with Linda, who bounced Pammy up and down like a yo-yo, asking for help and then refusing it when it arrived.

  Strawberry played with the baby’s wispy hair. “If I got her to Canada—”

  “That’s not as easy as it sounds,” Pammy said. “It’s a couple days’ drive, and you’ll have to watch her every second. She can’t get near a pay phone. She needs to believe there’s real help coming, and even then, if she calls him anyway and goes back, you can’t interfere.”

  Strawberry’s eyes filled with tears. She was looking at the baby.

  “She wouldn’t do that,” Strawberry said, but her voice was wobbly. Part of her knew that Pammy was right.

  “You don’t know what she’ll do,” Pammy said. “I don’t either. But I’ve seen it happen that way before. And you’ve got to remember, she stayed with him for a long time. She had a baby with him, and I can guarantee that he was hurting her before the child was born. He has a hold over her, and distance might not set her free from that.”

  “It has to,” Strawberry whispered.

  “I wish,” Pammy said.

  Strawberry swallowed heavily.

  Pammy looked at the baby too. Little Raquel was sleeping peacefully. Maybe the first peaceful sleep she’d had in a while.

  “Look,” Pammy said. “I don’t want to talk you out of this. It sounds like a good solution. But it’ll probably be the hardest thing you’ve ever done.”

  “I want to try,” Strawberry said, more to the baby than to Pammy.

  That was all any of them could do. They could try.

  Ultimately, it would be up to Norma. Because they couldn’t take the baby from her. They just had to give her a chance.

  “You have to make up your mind fast,” Pammy said. “And you can’t change it.”

  “I’ve already made up my mind,” Strawberry said. “And don’t worry. I won’t back out.”

  Pammy nodded. “Well then, we’re going to have to move on this now. Because Norma will back out if she stays in the Bay Area. So we have to get her out of here as soon as possible.”

  “All right,” Strawberry said. Her voice was shaking.

  “If she doesn’t have to go to the hospital,” Pammy said, “you’ll have to get her out of here tonight.”

  “And if she does have to go to the hospital?” Strawberry asked.

  Pammy met her gaze. She wasn’t going to say what she thought. If Norma went to the hospital, then she would lose this opportunity. She would lay there and think and worry and lose confidence, and after a day
or two, she would head home, deluding herself into thinking that everything would be okay.

  “Just pray she’s all right,” Pammy said. “That’s about all we can do.”

  29

  Eagle

  Eagle wished she had a Polaroid. She wanted to take photographs of every inch of Norma’s body. The woman was covered in bruises—old bruises, new bruises, fading bruises, bruises just emerging.

  Her husband was a sadist, an effective one. He liked administering pain, but he knew when to stop. He took Norma to the verge of needing emergency medical attention, but never did enough damage to make it inevitable. He gave his wife injuries that she could live with.

  Eagle did not shudder. She had seen this too many times, in a variety of different ways. She’d seen it more than she wanted to here, at the gym, although not this effectively.

  She’d seen this kind of damage in Pleiku on some of the Vietnamese, particularly the guides that the men no longer trusted. There was one officer who had taken torture to an art form, knowing how to inflict the maximum amount of pain for a minimal amount of damage.

  It looked like Luciano Paolinie had learned that skill somewhere too.

  She didn’t mention this to Norma. Norma had been reluctant to show her injuries to Eagle, even though Eagle had insisted. Norma never entirely undressed. She took off some articles of clothing as Eagle needed to examine different parts of her body, but left other articles of clothing on. Eagle had had to cajole to see every inch of Norma, but somehow, she had managed.

  The worst damage she had found was on Norma’s face. Her husband had broken her nose, and judging by the feel of it, he had done so before. Eagle taped it up, despite Norma’s protests, being exceedingly careful with Norma’s left cheek as she did so.

  X-rays would tell Eagle if the cheekbone was damaged, because her fingers couldn’t probe cautiously enough. After the work on the nose, Norma kept moving away. The pain was too much.

  But a damaged cheekbone wasn’t life threatening, and it had become clear that Eagle wouldn’t get Norma to a doctor unless her injuries threatened her life.