by Sam Hawken
‘There’s no place for me at home.’
‘Your father—’
‘Called me a whore and beat me. I was better off here. I came as soon as I could.’
‘And now your father is dead.’
‘Yes.’
She was watching the body bag. The medics picked it up by its ends and carried it to the ambulance, where they muscled it through the back doors. Gonzalo only glanced that way. ‘Is this what you wanted?’ Gonzalo asked.
‘No, of course not.’
‘Do you think you’re free just because your father is gone and your pimp is headed to jail?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘There will be another one, Iris,’ Gonzalo said. ‘And another and another. It doesn’t end here.’
‘I don’t care,’ Iris said.
‘Listen to me, Iris,’ Gonzalo said.
The doors of the ambulance closed. Iris blinked and looked away. When she turned to Gonzalo, he saw she was a thousand miles from him, in a completely different world. He thought to ask what drugs she was on, but it didn’t matter. She would only lie and he would become angry and they would get nowhere.
‘This is where I want to be,’ Iris said finally.
‘No, it isn’t.’
‘Yes, it is.’
Gonzalo dropped his hands to his sides. There was no argument to be made. ‘Then I suppose you have your wish. Good luck, Iris. I will be in touch when it’s time for more testimony.’
‘Goodbye,’ Iris said.
She turned back into the open doorway and vanished into shadow. Gonzalo watched her go.
SIXTEEN
JACK HAD A BOOK, A DETECTIVE NOVEL that he’d been trying to finish for over a year. There was nothing wrong with the book. It was only because Jack had never been much of a reader that the process took so long. He read a few pages here and there, tried to remember what had come before and then put it down again. The spine was battered from the book being laid open on its face.
The lawyer’s bathroom was finished. Jack had done most of the work alone and hired day labor only when he absolutely had to have it. He did not learn those men’s names and did not make small talk with them. Always he was on the lookout for the black SUV and the cops, but no one came to get him. He paid the men their wages and sent them on their way unknown. It was better like that.
Now Jack had time to himself. It seemed a good moment for reading, and so he made a pitcher of Kool-Aid to take out on the back patio. He had a small, round table made of iron that was the perfect height to lay a drink on and put a folding lounge chair by. A square of red-and-white striped awning kept the sun off but not the heat. The pitcher and his glass began to sweat immediately.
He read for two hours straight, which was more than he’d managed in three months of trying. The hero had just discovered the head of the man he was supposed to be looking for. Things were picking up. Jack barely heard the back door slide open on its track.
‘Jack.’
‘Hmm?’
Lidia wore cool white and pastels. She had the faint smell of the house about her, gathered up from her favorite space on the couch. When she stood in front of Jack she folded her arms and stared down at him. ‘We need to talk,’ she said.
Jack put the book down on the table. The pages brushed up against the pitcher of Kool-Aid and a spot darkened with moisture. ‘What about?’ he asked.
‘Marina’s concert is tonight.’
‘Yeah, right. I know.’
‘What about me?’
‘What about you?’
‘I mean, what am I supposed to do tonight? Don’t I get anything special?’
Lidia was a teenager, but at times like these Jack could still see the little child in her. Standing with her arms crossed made them look chubby like they were when she was small. Her face was pouty.
Jack put up his hands. ‘I don’t know, what do you want?’
‘You never asked me if I might to want to spend the night at a friend’s house.’
‘Was I supposed to?’
‘You could have asked.’
‘All right. Okay. I’m sorry I didn’t ask. Did you have somebody you wanted to do a sleepover with?’
‘It’s too late for that now, Jack. Nobody’s going to want to have me over when I can only give them a couple hours’ notice.’
‘Why didn’t you say something earlier, then?’
‘I thought you would ask.’
Jack covered his eyes and rubbed them with his thumb and forefinger until he saw colors. He took a breath and then another and then he said, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t ask. What should I do now?’
‘I don’t know. Something special.’
‘We could order pizza.’
‘I’d rather eat out.’
‘Okay, we can eat out. You got somewhere in mind?’
‘How about Italian food?’
‘Sure. Italian food sounds nice.’
‘And I want to rent a movie.’
‘We can rent a movie, too, if you want. They’ve got one of those vending machine things at the grocery store now. You can pick the movie. Whatever you want.’
Lidia looked at him, her arms still crossed. She let them down. ‘Okay.’
Jack tried a smile. ‘Okay?’ he asked.
‘It’s just that I never get to do anything cool.’
‘That’s because you’re thirteen. When you’re older, you get to do better stuff. Your time will come,’ Jack said.
‘I don’t mean to be bitchy.’
‘I know you don’t.’
‘Can we go before Marina leaves so she knows she’s missing out?’
‘That I can do,’ Jack said. ‘I’ll even put on a nice shirt. Want some of this Kool-Aid?’
‘No thanks. They say the dye in that stuff can make you sick.’
Jack poured himself another glass. The pitcher was half empty. ‘Never made me sick,’ he said.
‘Nothing can stop you, Jack,’ Lidia said, and then she went inside.
He considered the glass of red liquid, half-melted ice cubes floating. Food dye making you sick. What were they going to come up with next? Already it was elbow pads and crash helmets for kids on tricycles and now every day there was some new scare about what you shouldn’t eat. Vilma knew better than that. She never wanted to shelter their children.
Their children.
At the start they figured Vilma was just having trouble getting pregnant because she was getting older, or because she was working too hard or something else they hadn’t known to watch out for yet. For a while they thought it might be Jack who was the problem. They didn’t know that fate was just setting the stage for them, that they were denied this because there were further denials to be had.
Maybe they would have been better prepared for it when it happened if they had taken heed of those early-warning signs. The doctors told them no, it wouldn’t have made a difference, but Jack could not help but think he had made some terrible mistake. If he had only insisted on one more checkup, one more test. But that took responsibility out of Vilma’s hands and put it in his alone. It didn’t work that way.
He drained the glass and the ice clicked against his teeth. He opened wide and swallowed the ice cubes too: two spots of cold traveling deep down inside where they would vanish like bad feelings and doubts. Their children.
There would be no more reading today. The urge had left him and now the book just sat there, waiting for him to come back to it in a day or a week. Someday he’d find out more about the head of the dead man, but not now.
Jack got up from the lounge chair and gathered up his things. He had laundry to do.
SEVENTEEN
MARINA WORE THE DRESS SHE BOUGHT and Jack was no happier about it now than when she first brought it home. She wore it with heels and Jack asked her how she was supposed to dance wearing those things. ‘I’ve got it, Jack,’ she said.
‘How about that sweater?’ Jack pressed.
‘It’s, like, ninety degrees,’ Mar
ina replied.
‘It’ll cool down overnight. You’ll be glad you brought it.’
‘Okay, okay, I’ll take the blue one you got me for Christmas.’
He fussed over her though he knew she hated it. Was her bag packed? Did she make sure she had her toothbrush? Was her cell phone fully charged? Were all her documents in order for the crossing? She answered yes to all of these things, but Jack knew she would; she was responsible and she thought ahead. Jack had taught her those things, and before him there was Vilma, too.
They stood on the front lawn. Marina had her bag over her shoulder. ‘Let me have one more look at you,’ Jack said.
‘I’m going away for one night,’ Marina said. ‘I’m not moving out.’
‘You know I just want to make sure you’re all right,’ Jack said.
‘I know. But, really, the sweater? I’m just going to leave it in the car.’
‘Leave it in the car, then.’
‘I will.’
‘All right.’
He saw her off in her little Galant and he waved at her until the car was out of sight. As he walked back to the house, he thought in the back of his mind that maybe they would turn her away at the border and send her home and then he would have nothing to worry about. Maybe that would be the best thing all around.
Lidia caught him just inside the front door. She was dressed up in a shirt and a nice blouse. ‘Hey, I thought we were going to leave before her,’ she said.
‘She went a little early. Don’t worry, she knows she’s missing out.’
‘Good.’
Jack changed into a white shirt and jeans and even considered putting on a bolo tie but reconsidered. The restaurant wasn’t that nice and he wasn’t trying to impress anyone. He’d never started dating again after Vilma. He doubted he had the stuff to draw eyes anymore.
They drove to the place in Jack’s truck. It was a family restaurant where they had gone a hundred times before. The owners were not Italian, but Mexican. The food tasted authentic anyway and the music they played was always Frank Sinatra or some other Italian crooner.
Lidia ordered an appetizer and Jack did the same. The waiter offered him a wine list. ‘No, thanks,’ Jack said. ‘I’ll stick to water.’
After the waiter was gone, Lidia asked, ‘Why don’t you drink wine, anyway? Is it because of—?’
‘No, it’s not that. I figure there are two kinds of people: ones who drink wine and ones who drink beer. It just so happens that I’m a beer drinker. Wine’s just grape juice that went bad.’
Lidia smiled. ‘That’s a good one. I’m going to remember that.’
The food came and then it was time to eat. They had gone out early and most of the restaurant was empty, but there were a few other families scattered around the big dining room. A child in a high chair made a demolition job out of a little plate of spaghetti. There was more on the outside of the kid than on the inside. It made Jack smile.
‘What do you think Marina’s doing right now?’ Lidia asked.
Jack checked his watch. ‘I don’t know. Getting dolled up some more. Girl-talking with your cousin. You’re not missing anything.’
‘How old do I have to be before I can go out to a concert?’
‘We’ll see how tonight goes. Your sister sets a foot wrong, it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let either of you out of my sight.’
‘You’re just saying that.’
‘Believe it.’
Dean Martin sang ‘Ain’t That a Kick in the Head.’ The food was good and there was plenty of it. Jack knew he should watch it, but it was a special night and special nights had special rules. He even sprang for a dessert both of them could share and followed all of it with a cup of coffee.
‘You given any mind to what you want to watch tonight?’ Jack asked Lidia.
‘I’m thinking a comedy. Something with romance. What?’
‘Nothing. Romance is good.’
‘You were making a face!’
‘I wasn’t,’ Jack said. ‘Come on, let’s pay the bill and get out of here.’
They were on their way out the door when the dinner-hour diners were coming in, the foyer full of people. Jack cleared the path for Lidia and held the door for her. Out in the parking lot the temperature had already dropped from the afternoon to something not quite so stifling, though heat still radiated from the asphalt.
The grocery store was on the way home. Jack stood by while Lidia used the machine to slowly flick through the selections. When someone looked impatient, Jack turned his frown on them and they glanced away. She finally picked out something frothy and girly that would probably be horrible and Jack paid.
The rest of the evening was spent with popcorn and the movie, the two of them on the couch. Jack found he hated the thing less than he thought he would and afterward Lidia said she thought it was kind of dumb, but fun anyway. They both ended up going to bed later than usual.
Afterward Jack lay awake in his bed, listening to the whisper of the air conditioning. The clock at the bedside said it was nearly eleven o’clock. The concert would be finishing up soon and Marina would be back at Bernardo’s by midnight. He hoped she had a good time and he hoped she put on that sweater.
PART TWO
MISSING
ONE
MORNING CAME AND JACK ROSE QUIETLY. He showered and shaved and went to the kitchen in shorts and a T-shirt. Today he would go nowhere and do nothing and that suited him just fine. The smells of a cooking breakfast lured Lidia out of her bedroom and they enjoyed the meal together.
‘What time do you think Marina will be home?’ Lidia asked.
‘I don’t know. Why?’
‘I was thinking we could go to the pool. You could come, too.’
‘Nah, you know I don’t like swimming.’
‘You don’t have to swim. You could just, like, put your feet in the water.’
‘Maybe.’
They cleaned up the dishes and Lidia slipped away to get dressed. Jack almost didn’t hear his cell phone ringing in his bedroom until it had nearly gone to voice mail. He hurried to it.
‘Hello?’
‘Jack, it’s Bernardo.’
‘Hey, Bernardo. I was going to call you later.’
‘Jack, is Patricia with you?’
Bernardo’s voice was sharp with tension and the question hung in space for a long moment before Jack realized what he was asking. He immediately headed for Marina’s room. The door was half-open. Jack pushed it wide and inside was the bed, still made, Marina’s things neatly put away.
‘Jack? Are you there?’
‘I’m here. No, Patricia isn’t with me. Marina didn’t come home last night. She was supposed to stay over with you.’
‘I know, Jack. I had a call on my phone last night, late, but I didn’t answer. It was from Patricia. There was no message. I thought maybe they changed their minds and went home to your house.’
Jack steadied himself against the wall. Lidia emerged from her room, a question on her face, but Jack’s expression silenced her. ‘I don’t know anything about that,’ Jack told Bernardo. ‘I didn’t have any messages.’
‘This is no good,’ Bernardo said, and Jack caught the first notes of burgeoning desperation in his tone. ‘I’m going to call the police. I’m going to hang up and call the police now.’
‘Okay, okay. Call the police. I’m on my way just as soon as I can.’
‘All right, Jack. I will see you soon.’
They broke the connection.
‘Jack, what’s wrong?’ Lidia asked.
‘It’s your sister,’ Jack said. He saw a wave of raw panic rise in her and he put a hand out to quash it. ‘She’s not hurt. It’s not like that. Uncle Bernardo says she didn’t come home with Patricia last night.’
‘Then how do you know she’s not hurt?’
‘I don’t want to think about that right now. Get your shoes on, we’re gonna go. Let me change. We’re gonna go.’
First he dialed Marina�
��s number. It rang five times before it switched over to voice mail. He left a message and then immediately dialed her number again. More rings. Voice mail. Again.
Jack changed out of his lazy clothes and found Lidia waiting by the door, bouncing on the balls of her feet. His hand shook when he put the key in the lock, but it was steady by the time they reached the truck.
It was early enough that the traffic into Nuevo Laredo was not thick. The tremors had started up again by the time he reached the US customs cordon and he gripped the steering wheel to stop them.
He refused to think what he knew he had to think: that Marina should never have gone, and that he should not have let her. ‘Not now,’ he said out loud.
The man from Customs and Border Protection waved for Jack to put down his window. Jack already had his passport in his lap and Lidia handed hers over to the man, who examined them.
‘Nice to see you again,’ the officer said.
Jack looked at him sharply. ‘What?’
‘Nice to see you again. You passed through here not too long ago.’
Jack forced himself to look at the man’s name. Gallego. He didn’t recognize it, but he nodded and tried to smile. ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘We come through here a lot.’
‘Is everything all right?’
Gallego’s eyes were impossible to read behind his sunglasses. It was not too bright yet, but still he wore them. Jack picked a spot on the man’s forehead and looked at that instead of the lenses.
‘We got some bad news this morning,’ Jack said. ‘Family news.’
‘I hope it’s not serious.’
‘I hope not, too.’
Gallego held on to the passports for a long beat and Jack thought he was going to ask them both to get out of the truck. The man handed them back. ‘Be careful across the bridge,’ he said. ‘I heard there was a big shootout around dawn. You don’t want to get in the middle of that kind of thing.’
‘We won’t.’
‘All right, then. Move along.’
Jack’s mind was working before he put up the window, imagining things he did not want to put into words. A shootout before dawn, but where? Who was there? Who was hurt? Marina would not be out so late, he told himself, even if she decided against going home to Bernardo’s. If an American had been hurt, they would know already, wouldn’t they?
