He went on, “I did some research too. I found out that Paulo Varga is the police chief of the neighborhood in Cartagena where I used to live. He is an evil and powerful man, with ties to the old Pablo Escobar drug cartel, as well as the worst human trafficking rings in Northern Colombia. Men like him have arms and eyes everywhere. He clearly has informants at immigration. That’s why she wouldn’t say where she’s working. That’s why she has been too afraid to email again. I’m sure the network at her hotel isn’t secure.”
“But why? Why does he care about her?”
“She escaped from him years ago, and men like that can never forgive being beaten. I escaped from him too, so this is also tied into his revenge against me. He has a legitimate grievance against me. I can’t deny that even after all these years. That’s why he threatened me as soon as he found out how to email me.”
“What would he do to her?”
“Everything you don’t want to imagine. He’s an evil man, Ashford. You will have to be extremely careful not to stumble into any of his traps.”
Ashford looked up and caught Manny’s eyes. It startled him that Manny already knew what he had in mind. It was what had to be done. Manny understood.
“I wish I could go with you,” Manny said. “But with my weak legs and a face Paulo knows, I’d be a burden to you. This is something you have to do alone.”
“What are you two talking about?” asked Carmen. “I don’t understand.”
Ashford took a deep breath and turned toward Carmen. “I’m going to Colombia as soon as possible. Leila can’t return here. I have to go to her.”
“How will you find her?”
“I don’t know, but I have to try. She said she can’t live without me. Well, I can’t live without her either. And Cristina can’t live without us both.”
“You’re not thinking of taking the baby with you?” Carmen looked aghast. “It might be dangerous. You don’t know anyone there, and you barely understand Spanish. Leave Cristina with us until you find Leila.”
Ashford looked from Carmen to Manny, then back at Carmen. “If I go, Cristina may not be safe with you here either. Leila implied in her letter that her identity was discovered. That’s probably why we were never contacted. In a legal sense, we’re not even technically family. That discovery puts you in danger too, Manny. I don’t think you want anyone finding out that you lied on your visa application all those years ago.”
“It’s something I’ve worried about many times. But as long as I don’t make any waves, I think I’ll be safe.”
“There’s a danger you haven’t thought of. It’s my mother.”
“What could she do now?”
“She could take Cristina. She’s been emailing me every day. She calls too, but I haven’t answered. I’ll admit I’m afraid to. Her words all sound kind. She promises to take care of Cristina and provide for her. She wants to help raise her. She doesn’t know that Leila isn’t your blood daughter, but someone in the US knows. If my mother tries to, she will find out. If I’m in Colombia, alone, when she does, then she would come after Cristina. As her only blood relative in the country, she would win custody easily.”
Manny ran his hands along his face. Ashford could see beads of sweat on his forehead.
“I have to take Cristina with me. It may be dangerous, but there’s no other way. If I find Leila, when I find her, I won’t be able to bring her back. They won’t let her come back to the country, at least not right away. So, Cristina and I won’t be coming back either. We’ll have to stay in Colombia. That’s what it means to be a family.”
Ashford felt excited and hopeful. Yes, he was also afraid. He looked back at Manny, encouraged by how Manny seemed to understand what he himself was only just beginning to wrap his head around. Ashford’s life was about to change forever. Once he took this step, there was no undoing it. He looked over at Carmen, who nodded.
“You’ll take care of Romeo though, won’t you?” Ashford smiled, trying to lighten the moment.
“Yes. We’ll give her kitty a good home.”
“I’m proud of you,” said Manny. “I believe you can find her. We know she’s working in a hotel restaurant. We’ll put together a list of all the hotels in the city that have restaurants, but my guess is that she’s in either Bocagrande or Getsemaní. That’s a good place to start. There are a lot of tourists around there, so you should feel more comfortable and bring less attention to yourself than you would in the center of the city. Still, you must be careful. A young man traveling alone with a baby is unusual. I’ll tell you everything I know about Paulo Varga, because you must avoid him at all costs.
“But even more important than you avoiding him yourself, you must keep him from knowing about Cristina. If he can’t get to Leila, he’ll go after the people she loves. The only reason he went after her in the first place was to hurt me. You’re right that you have to bring Cristina with you. But you also have to understand that having the baby in Colombia puts all of you in more danger.”
Ashford nodded. Manny stood up and walked toward Ashford, who also stood up. Manny placed his hands on Ashford’s shoulders. “My son . . . may I call you that, even though you haven’t had the chance to marry my daughter?”
Ashford nodded again. Manny’s eyes welled up with tears.
“I feel closer to you, my son, in this sorrow we’re sharing. Leila’s disappearance has been a pain I never thought I would have to endure again. I lost an infant daughter. I watched my first wife get shot and die before my eyes. I didn’t think I’d have to go through something like this again.”
Manny looked down for a moment. With effort, he brought his teary eyes back up to face Ashford’s. “Even though those two losses were painful, losing Leila would break my heart the worst of all. My first wife had lost her hope. My infant daughter hadn’t yet developed hope. But Leila’s hope was something I had worked for many years to be able to give to someone. Seeing how hard she worked for her success allowed me to forget all the old sorrow and believe that my value as a man would be realized though her. She was my daughter in every way that mattered. She was my joy.”
Manny took a deep breath. “I was never prouder of you than when I saw in your eyes—before you said it—what you are prepared to do for Leila. You restore my faith and my hope. I see too that you understand the cost. You understand that you will leave behind everything you know, love, and have worked for in this country.”
“Leila is all I know, love, and have worked for. I would give up anything to be with her. That was true since the moment I met her.”
Ashford looked from Manny to Carmen, then toward the crib where Cristina slept, with no comprehension of the great adventure she would soon take to find her mother. He did feel afraid. He had never viewed himself as a brave man. This would take more courage than he had ever needed before. It was time to learn if he had that kind of courage within him.
37
ASHFORD LOOKED OUT the window of the crowded bus at the bustling city of Cartagena. He held Cristina close on his lap, his other hand clutching his suitcase handle. Even though the bus was coming from the airport, it didn’t look like there were any tourists on board.
Everything looked strange and foreign. The traveling he had done outside of the US was always in a setting carefully planned by his mother. They were either in cities where English was prevalent—London, Rome, Singapore—or in a bubble of American safety with minimal contact with the destination, such as on that well-planned and comically comfortable hike in Nepal when he was fifteen. He had always wanted to actually touch and experience the places he traveled to. Now, he would have his chance. He was terrified of having to use his inadequate Spanish.
As the bus neared the port, the architecture changed into a surprising mix of tall high-rises and ancient brick and adobe buildings from colonial times. These two styles were crammed anachronistically onto the same city blocks. The high-rises were mostly white, shimmering in the bright noon sun, while the old structures wer
e yellow, dark green, blue, or pink. Lush greenery sprouted everywhere, healthy in the moist heat. Trees grew from the small parks and patches of earth between the street corners. Flowered vines hung from pots on balconies. It was elegant but decrepit at the same time.
What was he doing here? How would he even start this crazy search? He and Manny had written out a detailed plan, mapping out his strategy to search for Leila. If she was working at a hotel near the harbor, he should find her in time. But even that was uncertain. She wouldn’t be using her real name. He would have to be careful how he asked his questions so as not to put her in increased danger.
Sweat drenched his shirt despite the open windows of the bus. He was used to the dry heat of Arizona, but this humidity was different. Besides, buses in Arizona were always air-conditioned. Cristina didn’t seem to mind. He supposed this place was in her blood. Maybe he could learn a thing or two from her.
The bus stopped in a square in the middle of Old Town. Ashford stepped off with the baby strapped to his front, pulling the suitcase behind him. Traffic buzzed around the perimeter of the plaza. A tall monument rose from a patch of grass in the middle. A salty breeze reminded him of how close he was to the south Caribbean Sea. He looked around to gather his bearings, trying to remember all the pointers Manny had given him. He reached for the city map in his pocket.
“¿Amigo, necesita un taxi? ¡Qué bonita bebé!”
Ashford jumped. The voice was close by him, almost shouting. He turned and saw a curly-haired man in a short-sleeved yellow shirt, bursting with enthusiasm.
“Uh, no, gracias.”
“You are American! I have English. May I help you today?”
“I don’t need help.” Ashford began to walk.
The man fell in beside him. “A hotel perhaps? I have friends so you will get fair price.”
“I said no thank you.” Ashford stopped and looked the man squarely in the eyes. “Please.”
“Okay, amigo. You have a nice day.” The man turned and hurried away.
The encounter threw him off, meaningless as it was. His nerves were on edge.
He consulted his map as people buzzed about him, then figured out the correct direction, toward the inn Manny had suggested. It was the same inn that Manny and Leila had stayed in years ago while awaiting their visas and plane tickets to America. Manny thought the familiarity and nostalgia might draw Leila to that place, especially if she knew they were looking for her.
He arrived at the inn: Casa Azul. True to its name, the outside was painted sky blue with yellow trim. Going inside, the woman working the desk smiled as she looked at his baby.
“Sí, we have your reservation, Señor Cohen.” She struggled with his unfamiliar last name. “May I have a credit card for the room?”
“Por supuesto.” He reached toward his back pocket, but it was empty. “My wallet. It’s gone. That man picked my pocket.” He had slipped into English, but the woman clearly understood.
“Oh no! Cartagena is awful with pickpockets.”
Ashford wanted to run after the curly-haired man, but it was hopeless now. He had been gone for ten minutes or longer, and here was Ashford with a baby and a suitcase. He was such a fool, leaving his wallet in his back pocket in a place like this.
“I’ll call the police,” said the woman.
He watched while she picked up the phone, then he came to his senses. “No. There’s nothing they can do. Please don’t.” He wouldn’t be a fool about this twice. The last thing he needed was to be known by the police after only an hour in the city. But what would he do, with no money and no credit cards? He sat down in the lobby to think.
He had to call Manny, even though he was embarrassed. He wanted Manny to be confident in him, to believe he could really handle himself down here. Right now, Ashford wasn’t so sure he could. If he couldn’t even take care of his own wallet, how was he going to outsmart the men pursuing Leila?
Before leaving Phoenix, he’d added an international calling plan to his cell phone. He swallowed his pride and called Manny, who gave the inn his own credit card to secure Ashford’s room as well as made a cash advance for him through Western Union. They had already agreed to pool resources for his trip. Ashford promised he would be more careful going forward. Maybe he only imagined the disappointment he thought he heard in Manny’s voice.
The hotel clerk showed him to his room. Her name was Elena, and she was very curious about him, as were the people he had passed earlier on the street. Even the people on the bus had all been watching him. He stood out like a sore thumb.
“If ever you need me to watch your baby, let me know.”
“Thank you.” But Ashford had resolved to take Cristina with him everywhere. If this police chief found out about them, Cristina would be in danger. If she got kidnapped, he could never live with himself. His own love for Leila was secondary now. His primary duty was to reunite Cristina with her mother. He wouldn’t let her out of his sight for a single moment. He would protect her with his life if it came to that.
While unpacking in his room, he called his bank, which canceled his cards and arranged to mail a new credit and debit card to him at the hotel. He still had his passport, and losing his US driver’s license was a small hardship here. He might never need it again.
It was that easy. In a few days, his lost wallet would be forgotten. How different—how unjust, really—that he arrived here, like Leila, with no money and no credit. But as a privileged son of the American system, all was made right for him. Leila, on the other hand, had been spit out and rejected by that system and left with nothing to fall back on.
After the calls were made and Cristina was changed, Ashford sat down on the bed and looked around the room. The window was open. He took a deep breath, familiarizing himself with the air of this new place. Being here felt right. He knew Leila was close, and that knowledge stirred not only his hope but his desire. He longed for her now like in the early days of his passion for her, before their relationship began. It was a desire that took control of everything inside him: a passion in his heart and an urge in his body. This search was about the love of a severed family, the need to reunite a mother with her child. But it was also about a man’s longing for a woman. Ashford wanted to be near her and melt into the delight of her essence. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, tear her clothes off, and make love to her. Being here, knowing she was close, awakened his obsession for her.
He wanted to begin his search. But first he had to make sure he had everything he needed for Cristina. Traveling with an infant was complicated. He went back downstairs. Elena pointed him toward the stores he needed, and he ventured out with the baby strapped to his front.
Ashford was grateful that she had not cried once since they landed. The flight was difficult. He’d had to apologize repeatedly to the other passengers, first flying from Phoenix to Houston and then across the Gulf of Mexico to Cartagena. He remembered Leila saying how good she was on the flight to and from Phoenix back in December. No such luck this time. But since landing, and especially now, her eyes were open wide with wonder at the unfamiliar city.
“This is your mother’s city. This is where she’s from. Even better, she’s here now. We’ll see Mama again very soon.”
After the terror of his first few conversations, his high school Spanish began flooding back to him. Leila always bragged that Colombians spoke the cleanest Spanish in all of Latin America. Ashford didn’t know if that was true, but he did find that he could understand people better than he’d expected.
His legs and shoulders were worn out by the time he returned to Casa Azul late that afternoon. His arms were weighed down by two grocery bags full of diapers, formula, food for himself, powder, and various sundries—hardly the supplies of a daring rescue mission.
Back in the room, Cristina fell asleep, and he needed to rest too. He lay down on his back and sighed.
So here he was. Now what?
38
IF ONLY IT had been another time—even a
nother girl’s life—this would not be so bad. For La Alta perhaps, but not for Leila del Sol.
A job in just this kind of hotel had been her childhood dream. Before Manny gave her a new life and grander hopes, what she had now would have seemed like the pinnacle of her ambition.
But Leila could not spend a single moment of her day forgetting the void that the separation from her daughter carved out in her heart.
She stepped down the stone embankment and sat on the final step above the water. A grove of palms to her right protected her against the hot afternoon sun. The water here on the inner side of the harbor was calm. She saw only a handful of boats in the bay. It was too hot to fish, and the tourists had all returned from their morning adventures. Soon, she would be serving them cocktails in the bar after their siesta and then dinner in the restaurant where she had now been working for almost two weeks.
With the help of some pins and a needle and thread, she had improved the fit of her restaurant uniform. These clothes, along with a new T-shirt and pair of shorts she had bought, were her only clothes other than what she came in.
She looked across at the familiar outline of the city—her city. Where she sat was close to the middle of the round horseshoe of the bay, with the Bocagrande peninsula stretched to her right and the main part of the city sprawled out on her left. The lush Isla de Manzanillo poked out into the water. She did love Cartagena. Deep in her heart, she had always hoped to come back one day, but not like this, not alone.
Still, being here now felt oddly natural. Was this how complacency set in?
As the time began to pass, she had to wonder if this was her life now: serving at this restaurant, sleeping in the working women’s dormitory, which she had moved into after the first few nights on Alejandra’s couch. Maybe there was no way back. Maybe this was the life she would have to get used to.
The Exile Page 22
