Zed looks up from his laptop and says, “Tsunamis, Rafa. Don’t want to be at the water’s edge when it’s an offshore earthquake.”
“Mountains?” Rafa counters.
“Volcanoes and volcanic rifts. The earth moves, lava flows,” Zed says. “I say, tents in the desert or maybe portables, campers, or something.”
“You and your Atacama Desert,” Rafa retorts.
“Delirious for the desert,” Zed says. “Must be the Congo in my blood. Raised and bred in the heat.”
“Ugh,” is Twizzle’s response. “Let’s not forget that our foundation now owns a piece of the Chilean wine industry. We are committed to maintaining a winery here.”
“Just like the tequila farm in the desert. I look forward to it.”
“And they have one-story residences adjacent to it that can be expanded to accommodate us all,” Twizzle says.
Sonnet looks over at the twin, who is back to staring out the window. “Back to our immediate problem, ladies, and gentlemen, okay? What do we do now about the screamer?”
The twin turns to them and says, “You do nothing. This is for me.” She closes her eyes, stretches out her arms and becomes rigid. Instantly, the atmosphere in the room becomes charged with static. Butterflies and moths appear out of nowhere and fill the room. They float about and flicker over everything, then as quickly as they appeared, they disappear and behind the twin, beyond the window outside, the air is thick with a solid cloud of them that cuts off the sunlight as their numbers grow.
“Damn,” Zed says quietly.
As they watch, the insects rise into the sky like an angry thunderhead and spread out over the landscape, growing exponentially in number, reaching out over the city and countryside to blanket everything with their mass.
Twizzle and Rafa walk to the window to witness the spread of the twin in insect form. They stand mesmerized by her display of power.
“Ominous,” Rafa says to Twizzle.
When the butterflies and moths reach some critical mass, they stop multiplying but continue spreading out over the terrain, letting sunlight through and minimizing the visual impact of their quantity.
“Plague of locusts,” Rafa says.
“Headlines for sure,” Twizzle says. “No one will know what to make of the phenomenon.”
The twin stands between them as a statue. Twizzle and Rafa take care not to disturb her in any way.
“So I guess I stand vigil for her in this state,” Sonnet says. “No use inconveniencing the rest of you.”
Twizzle shakes her head. “No. We both keep vigil for her. This is too important to leave to just one person. Let the men carry on without us.”
“So we stay checked into this hotel for the time being, I assume,” Zed says.
Twizzle’s cell phone vibrates in her back pocket. She pulls it from her pants, studies the display and announces to everyone, “It’s Doctor Eloisa de la Cruz.”
She answers the call, listens, makes a few comments, finishes the call and then replaces the phone in her back pocket. “El’s people have found our mystery man; the one Forbes and Zed ran into at the site of the three boys fused into the car.”
“Where?”
“Hasn’t left that neighborhood. Is still hanging around, wandering the streets. One of her kids noticed him from the description.”
“Adults missed him,” Forbes guesses.
“Of course. Mister visible-only-to-kids.”
“So we need her children to lead us to him.”
“It appears to be the case. Forbes, he didn’t react adversely to you so I think you should be the one to approach him. If you didn’t scare him off last time, he’ll probably allow you to see him again.”
Zed gets up from the table, walks to one of Sonnet’s suitcases, opens it and pulls a bottle of orchid tequila from the case.
“Zed, what are you doing?” Sonnet asks.
“Satisfying my curiosity. You aren’t the least bit in the dark about what the twin is doing?”
She shrugs and says, “I can guess.”
“So can I, but I’d like to do more than that.” He uncorks the bottle, raises it to his lips and gulps down a measure of the orchid-enhanced aged tequila. When he finishes, he wipes the top of the bottle and extends it in offering to others in the room. When they all decline, he corks the bottle and puts it back into the suitcase. He walks over to the twin and stands about a foot away from her, studying her.
After a few minutes of silence, Sonnet says, “So? Talk to us. What do you see?”
Zed turns to her with a big smile. “She is a witchy nexus. All those insects? They are mainlined into her head.” He steps to one side of her and points out the window. “Every one of them is networked back to her. She has created an entire grid over the city with each bug as a node. When our screamer returns, she will be on it the moment it cuts loose. If you could see what I see, you would see a city and countryside glowing with her grid; everywhere as far as the eye can see. For all I know, it extends all the way to the ocean. I mean it disappears into the horizon.”
He walks away from the window and says, “Our twin is the most compact Gi there has ever been, I think, and maybe the most powerful. Nothing like what we were accustomed to in the Congo. What a marvel she is.”
He directs his delivery to Sonnet. “And to think that she chose you as her model to walk around in. Must be something special there.”
Sonnet blushes and looks away demurely. “Special,” she repeats sarcastically.
Chapter 24
Day 2
Santiago, Chile
Isabel perks up in her pew as his odor wafts through the air around her. Turning and looking back towards the church entry, she sees only closed doors. He must be on the other side of them waiting for her. She slides out of the pew, noiselessly glides back to the big doors, pulls them open and steps into the bright sunlight. There, at the sidewalk entry, on the other side of the gates, he is waiting and watching.
Knowing his presence inside the sacred building would create a stir, he maintains distance, realizing that his odor even this close can be disruptive. He smiles when he sees her and he nods in acknowledgment.
She breaks into a big smile, rushes to him, wraps both arms around his big body, and presses her head against his stomach. The warmth and bulk of him against her is consolation and solace that quickly give way to grief. She looks up at him and says in Spanish, “My guardian angel took Sister Mary,” then she bursts into tears. She buries her face in his stomach, and her loud crying is muffled and then, once the worst is out, turns to soft sobs and sighs.
He places his mountain hand tenderly on her small shoulder and rubs gently. He knows how much Sister Mary meant to her, but doesn’t ask for details. They aren’t important. The loss is all that matters for his Isabel. Delving into the specifics of her guardian angel would just cause her more distress. Better that she simply grieve and then move on. Any attempt to reconcile the child with the larger entity would be a mistake. In time, she’ll face herself and then full understanding will occur.
“I’m sorry for you, child. Loss of one so dear can be hard.”
Finished with her cry, she pulls her face away from his stomach and says, “I have nowhere to go and my stomach feels hollow.”
His heart goes out to her. In this state, she’s so pitiable, so vulnerable, and so small. He reaches inside his dirty coat and pulls out the money Forbes gave him. Her child's face lights up in surprise at the offering. Grief gives way to relief. Without hesitation, she scoops it all out of his big hands, basks in its quantity like an avaricious child and then... hesitates before pocketing it. She looks up into his cloudy face and warm fatherly eyes, and loses all concern for herself.
“What about you? Don’t you need this?”
He gives her a kind smile and says, “I’m well cared for, little one, but I imagine you need a place to put your head tonight.”
Isabel frowns and admits that her situation is as it was only a few days a
go. “I can’t go back to that building with the metal drums. My guardian angel wrecked it.”
“Yes, that place is compromised. I have something more comfortable.”
“A house this time? Something with a real bed?”
“Yes, little one, a bed and running hot water.”
“A bathroom?”
“Yes. The owners of the apartment are away.”
“What about neighbors? Apartments have been trouble.”
“We enter from the rear. No one will see us if we’re careful.”
She hugs him again and then says, “Can I get food first and then we go?”
“Of course, little one. I’ll wait across from wherever you want to get food.”
She knows exactly where she wants to eat, a place that Sister Mary took her to a number of times in the past. But with that thought, the loss of her best-friend-ever hits her once more. When she looks down at her new pants and shoes, she is reminded of the new Isabel Sister Mary had started, and it brings a fresh round of pain. Sister Mary was going to bring her out of the shadows and recreate her as the new Isabel. Together they would conquer the world as secret sisters. But now all that is gone. Sister Mary is gone. Isabel is back at the edges with her huge friend who rules his shadow world.
Being brought out into the light by Sister Mary’s kindness (unlike the last family she was placed with) made her realize life could be better, there was hope after all. But that hope is dashed and she is back to sneaking around and hiding again.
She looks up into her dark friend's eyes, and somehow his presence smooths the wrinkles of her situation. He has been with her for so long, always catching her when she falls back into homelessness, that she realizes her moment with Sister Mary was an anomaly; that her destiny is the street and the accompanying loneliness. Whether she likes it or not, her guardian angel is here to stay, for better or worse.
“My guardian angel will never take you from me, will he?” she asks the big man.
He looks beyond her to the church spire, and then over to the Madonna in the distance on top of the mountain. “No little one, your guardian angel will never see me as a threat to you. I am here to serve as best I can.”
“Serve,” she thinks. She has never heard him talk about himself like that and she has never thought of him as her servant. “Serve,” she says out loud.
He has said too much. She needs to be treated like the child she appears to be. It is how their relationship works, how she gets by in this modern world. When she changes, then he will modify his dialogue with her. Until then, he is to be the “father figure” to her daughter self. He looks down at her small figure with her new stylish clothes and sees a cute child growing up. As a woman, she would be beautiful and irresistible. He is sure she would leave many broken hearts behind if she matured.
“I am responsible for you, Isabel. In my limited way, I am to provide for you and be there for you when others disappoint. You’re experiencing the growing pains that come with independence. As you find yourself, you will need me less and less. But until then, I will always be just around the corner for you.”
Isabel, like any child listening to an adult talk of things she has not yet experienced, is not quite clear on his meaning but grasps the gist and intent.
“Shall we get you some food?” he asks.
Her face is radiant. “Can I share with you? Can we eat together?”
He nods and says, “The usual for me, please.”
Together they start off towards the restaurant. When they come upon ten female mannequins lined up at the curb and facing a clothes shop, Isabel stops to inspect each ensemble worn by the mannequins, comparing them to her new clothes, checking out her reflection in the shop window next to theirs.
Across the street, Carlos’ sister, the recipient of the video from Carlos of Roberto’s brother choking Isabel (sent from Carlos’ cell phone just before Carlos tried to stop Roberto’s brother from choking Isabel), points to Isabel.
“There! There she is.” Carlos, who turned up dead along with Roberto’s brother and Pablo, all fused with the car, has been a subject of much anguish for her. The mysterious circumstances of his death, the interrogations by the police, and the many theories of what actually happened and who might have been responsible, all come back to the video sent to her moments before his death. What did Isabel have to do with his death?
“What do you want to do?” one of her friends asks.
“Force the Mapuche slut to talk, tell me what happened to my brother,” she says in venom-laced voice and starts across the street to confront Isabel. A girl with her grabs her by the shoulder and stops her.
“Wait. Look. I think Skunk Mountain is with her. See how he just stands there and waits.”
Carlos’ sister catches herself, stops and watches for a minute and then curses. She wants nothing to do with the big man, and is frightened by his presence as much as she is disgusted by his odor. When she sees Isabel address him and he speaks back, she suspects her friend is right, so she pulls back to the sidewalk and continues watching the two of them. When Isabel and the big man finally leave the mannequins and continue down the street, she is convinced they are together.
“We follow them. Maybe he’ll leave her and she’ll be alone.” Her friends agree to the arrangement and the four of them pace Isabel and her friend from across the street, keeping behind them and acting as if they are all out window shopping. One of the girls pulls out her cell phone and calls her brother.
Isabel and her escort walk to an intersection where Isabel buys two sodas from a street vendor–one for her and one for her friend. They pause to enjoy the drinks, and Isabel points to the restaurant she wants to go to, ahead on the opposite side of the street. He nods in approval, finishes his drink, tosses the empty in a trashcan and says, “Whenever you’re ready.”
They walk across the intersection and continue down the street-vendor-clogged sidewalk, through the maze of pedestrians and finally almost to the restaurant. Isabel’s big friend stops a storefront away from the Paseo opposite the restaurant, and folds back into a store vestibule.
“I’ll wait here, little one. After you get the food, we can walk together eating it.”
Knowing his propensity for avoiding people, she understands and doesn’t question his actions. She crosses the street, walks past the tables and chairs arrayed out on the sidewalk, and enters the restaurant to order food to go.
Carlos’ sister, leading her friends, decides this is her chance. The big stinky man won’t intervene when she confronts Isabel in a place as public as the restaurant. Boldly, she leads her girl entourage into the small restaurant and waits for Isabel to finish ordering. Her friends whisper behind her and she whirls on them with a “shush!” that quiets them. When the man behind the counter asks her what she would like, she feels compelled to order and selects the cheapest item on the menu, then stands next to Isabel to wait for her food. But her impatience gets the best of her and she demands of Isabel, “What happened to my brother?”
Isabel, assuming she is talking to someone else, ignores her until the girl grabs her by the arm and says more loudly, “What happened to my brother? Why did you kill him?”
Startled at being grabbed, and shocked by the accusation, Isabel pulls from the girl's grip and says, “What? What are you talking about?”
“My brother, Carlos, and Pablo and Roberto’s brother, all dead right after Roberto chokes you. I seen it. Carlos recorded it and sent it to me. Why was Roberto’s brother choking you? What happened to my brother after he recorded you? Why are you with Skunk Mountain? Did he do it? Did he kill my brother?”
Isabel withers under the barrage of questions and open hostility. One of the other girls pushes her against the glass food counter and says, “Tell us you freak. Who killed Carlos?”
Isabel can only stutter out her innocence, but denial just incites Carlos’ sister to greater hostility. She slams Isabel against the counter so hard that the employee on the other side of
the counter yells at her and tells her to take it outside. For Isabel, the break is her cue to run. She twists out of Carlos’ sister’s grip and darts out the open door to the tables and chairs outside. Across the street, she sees her friend still in the shadows of the storefront niche, and she runs in his direction, around a moving car and up onto the sidewalk. She avoids a couple who are window shopping, and she stops breathlessly behind him to peek only her head out at the girls, who are in hot pursuit.
The girls, led by Carlos’ sister, come to a screeching halt only feet away from Skunk Mountain, who opens his shirt and exposes his mottled and striped chest. Immediately they are assaulted by a stench that makes them nearly puke. Their eyes begin to burn from the smell and they are forced to turn their heads away in repulsion. Isabel, used to the normal odor of her friend, winces as he exudes the equivalent of skunk repellant into the air around them. The results are predictable. The girls forget their anger and retreat, nauseated from the odor, coughing, and choking.
He turns to her and says calmly, “Maybe another restaurant would be better, little one. Some place away from angry children.”
She takes him by the hand and pulls him out of the vestibule. Together they walk swiftly away from the encounter and disappear around the corner at the intersection. Carlos’ sister and friends do not follow.
But they are watched closely by two others who have been keeping track of the big man for hours–an adult and a child who are linked to Doctor Eloisa de la Cruz. The child raises her nose to the odor Skunk Mountain has emitted, and smiles. She is quite familiar with that means of defense. As she passes the girls, who are still coughing and complaining from the aerosol assault, she grins and inaudibly says derisively to them, “Gilipollas,” then ignores them and focuses on Isabel and her big friend.
Chapter 25
Day 2
Santiago, Chile
Forbes’ cell phone pings, signaling that a text message has arrived. Stopped at a traffic light, he pulls the cell phone from his pocket. It’s Doctor Eloisa de la Cruz’s two people who are watching the man the kids call Skunk Mountain. The text describes where they are and instructs him to text them when he arrives.
Girl with all the Pain Page 14
