Out of Reach

by Kendall Talbot

  “Carter!” She pointed ahead. “There’s people.”

  “Where?”

  “Over there. It’s a jetty.” Lily shielded her eyes from the sun. “They’re kids.” Her heart thumped. “They’re fishing.”

  “Yes. Hola!” Standing, Carter waved both hands above his head. “Hola.”

  The two children waved back.

  “Paddle, Lily. We’re saved.”

  Tears pooled in her eyes. A lump in her throat made it impossible to breathe. Every muscle ached. Yet she sliced that blade through the water, driving toward salvation. The two children continued waving, and soon Lily heard them giggling too. They wore only brightly colored shorts, and their welcoming smiles were a brilliant contrast to their dark skin.

  “Hola necesitamos ayuda.” Carter cupped his mouth, projecting his voice. “Están tus madres o padres aquí?”

  “Sí. Sí,” one of the boys called back.

  “Puedes traerlos por favor.”

  The children ran off like a fox was on their tail.

  Lily frowned at Carter. “What’d you say?”

  “I asked them to get their folks.”

  Lily turned back to the approaching jetty. Carter put his oar into the water to slow their speed, and the second they reached it, she leaned over and clutched at the pylon. Carter launched onto the rickety platform to tie them up. She handed Pompa’s cage and her pack to him, and then he helped her from the boat.

  She fell into his arms. The realization they were saved reduced her legs to jelly. Carter hooked one arm around her waist, picked up Pompa’s cage with his other hand, and she grabbed her pack. Then together they headed toward the little cottage in the distance.

  Through tear-filled eyes, Lily spied a buxom woman waddling toward them. “Ay Dios mío. Estás bien? De donde vienes?”

  Lily only recognized one phrase—ay Dios mío. Oh my God. One of her friends from college was Mexican, and this was her favorite saying. Lily agreed with it wholeheartedly.

  The woman arrived at Lily’s side, clutched her elbow, and led her toward the cottage. Lovely aromas wafting from the building had Lily wondering if she’d died and gone to heaven. Her aching body convinced her otherwise.

  The woman and Carter carried on a conversation Lily couldn’t understand. She switched off trying to work out what they were saying and allowed them to look after her. The giggling boys grabbed Pompa’s cage and her bag and raced ahead with the rooster bouncing between them.

  After a couple of steps inside the cottage, Lily was seated at a small table with four wicker chairs positioned around it. Within seconds, a glass of water and a small bun were in front of her. Lily gulped down the water and then bit into the bread roll. The outer crust cracked to reveal a slightly chewy, vanilla-colored center. Never before had anything tasted so good.

  Carter sat at her side and he too was treated to food and water.

  He placed his hand over Lily’s. “We made it.”

  She nodded. “We did.”

  He grinned. “I’ll see if Teresa has a phone.”

  “Discúlpeme, Teresa, tiene un teléfono?” Carter held his hand to his ear, mimicking his question.

  “No, pero nuestros vecinos hacen.” Teresa shook her head and Lily’s heart sank. The conversation continued between Teresa and Carter, and as if a starter gun had sounded, the two boys shot from the kitchen and raced out the front door.

  Carter turned to her. “Teresa doesn’t have a phone, but her husband’s working at a farm nearby. The boys have gone to get him, and then he’ll take us into town.”

  Lily nodded. “Gracias, Teresa.”

  “De nada.”

  After the small bun came a bowl of curry. It was hot, both in heat and spice, and brimmed with meat and vegetables. Lily scooped large spoonfuls into her mouth. Carter dunked a second bread roll and devoured his food too.

  She became full much sooner than she’d expected, and couldn’t even finish the meal. Carter too had stopped.

  Lily put her hands together as if praying. “Gracias, Teresa. Gracias.”

  The Mexican woman turned, wiping her hands on a towel, smiling.

  “Please sit with us,” Lily said, and Carter translated and indicated a chair.

  Teresa pulled out a seat, and as she leaned forward to sit, Lily noticed a small silver cross around her neck. Her mind flashed to the necklace in the cave.

  “Hey, Carter, can you please ask Teresa if she knows about the mudslide?”

  He blinked at her, then he touched her hand and squeezed. She guessed he knew where Lily was going with her request. He turned back to Teresa, and Lily watched their hands and facial expressions, trying but failing to follow their conversation.

  As their discussion continued at length, Lily grew more confident Teresa could help.

  “What was your father’s name?” Carter asked.

  “Malcom Bennett.”

  He turned back to Teresa, and when he repeated the name the woman’s expression grew grim. At one point, Teresa pointed her finger to her ear and spun it around as she said, “Loco.” Lily recalled Otomi’s reference to the monkeys being loco and wondered who Teresa was referring to.

  Finally, Carter turned to her, and the look in his eyes drove a spike into her heart.

  He placed his hand over hers again, preparing her for what she was about to hear. “Like we’d already figured, the mudslide was in 1980. An entire village was wiped out, killing everyone.”

  “Did she know my father?”

  He nodded. “He was a missionary—”

  “Ahhh, I don’t think so.” Lily shook her head. “Dad never went to church; he didn’t even believe in God.”

  “Let me finish.”

  “Okay.” She said it with the uncertainty it deserved.

  “He worked as a missionary around this area for about a year before he met his wife. They worked together, traveling among the small communities, talking about God and religion. Even once he had his daughter, they continued.”

  Lily tried to picture her dad doing this, but couldn’t.

  “When the mudslide hit that village, he and his wife and child were in a car. They were swept away. He survived but couldn’t get his family out of the mud in time. Apparently, he held on to his wife’s hand until she died.”

  Lily’s chest burned at the horror of it.

  Carter cleared his throat. “Your father stayed with them for three days before he finally let go. Apparently, he walked through the jungle for a week, surviving on just water and berries, and by the time they found him he was a little crazy. Nobody even knew of the mudslide until he told them.”

  Lily covered her mouth. “Oh my God.”

  “Teresa says after the accident, your father stayed around for a few months, but one day he just disappeared.”

  Lily blinked at Carter and Teresa, and tried to picture her father walking from the jungle, exhausted and starving, like they’d just done. It was difficult to believe, and yet it explained much of her father’s actions. It answered why he didn’t believe in God and didn’t want any of his children married in a church. It explained why he was insistent on his children learning survival skills. It might also explain why he’d continued having children until a daughter was born.

  The pain he’d suffered might also explain why he never mentioned his first wife and daughter again. A flush of warmth radiated through her body, bringing a sense of relief. Her father was still the family man she’d always known him to be, and not someone who’d willingly abandoned his wife and child. It appalled her that she’d thought any different.

  Finally, she had answers to the questions that’d brought her to Mexico, and she was confident this knowledge would help her mother’s grieving.

  It made every painful step worthwhile.

  Chapter 25

  The two childre
n came bounding into the kitchen followed by a middle-aged Mexican man with graying hair and a scraggly beard. Carter stood to shake his hand and introduce themselves.

  “Hola, mi nombre es Carter, esta es Lily.” Carter informed Pedro of their situation and asked to be taken to the police.

  “Sí, sí, te llevaré a la policía.”

  After Lily hugged Teresa and said goodbye, she and Carter squeezed into the front of Pedro’s beat-up old pickup. Lily’s pack and Pompa’s cage were put into the back and the two squealing children jumped in too. Carter asked the date, and was surprised to learn it’d been eleven days since they’d left Corozal. He relayed the information to Lily.

  “Feels like so much more.”

  “I agree.”

  “We’re a week overdue. I wonder if my brothers are here.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  Bumping along the winding road, leafy trees brushed against the side of the truck and the kids giggled in the back. Pedro asked many questions, and Carter had just as many of his own. When Carter mentioned the marijuana farm and being chased by men with guns, Pedro’s eyes bulged with apparent fear.

  “Hombres muy malos.” He shook his head. “Hombres muy malos,” he repeated.

  “What’s he saying?” Lily asked.

  “I was telling him about the guys who chased us, and he says they’re very bad men.”

  She huffed. “I could’ve told him that.”

  It was more than an hour before they arrived at a police station. The squat orange building with peeling paint and no windows didn’t portray any semblance of authority. Out front were two horses and two motorbikes.

  Pedro pulled to a stop, Carter jumped out, and Lily winced as he helped her from the pickup. He put his arm around her waist and aided her into the building.

  The police were as efficient as the boxy computer on their desk, but they made up for it with their friendliness. Lily and Carter were treated to more food, and at the insistence of the two overweight officers, they posed for photos that Pedro willingly took. It seemed like hours before they’d explained everything. Several times Carter noticed Lily had closed her eyes, and he wondered if she’d fallen asleep.

  “Por favor,” Carter said. “We need a hospital.”

  “Ahhh, sí, sí, sí.”

  Lily and Carter were whisked out the back of the station and loaded into a beat-up old Jeep that was caked in red dirt from the wheels to the roof. The birdcage and her pack were shoved onto the back seat and the rooster crowed as if in protest. Lily leaned on Carter’s shoulder, and before they’d even traveled through the small town, she was asleep.

  It was several hours before they reached another town. This one was much bigger than the last. They cruised down the main street, and when they arrived at an intersection, Carter was shocked to see the ocean. Golden beaches lined the shore and azure water stretched into the distant horizon.

  Barely five minutes later, the police officer pulled to the curb next to a giant red Perspex cross announcing the emergency entrance to the hospital. Carter put his arms beneath Lily’s knees and around her back and carried her up the pebbled path. The police officer ran at his side, shouting commands in Spanish before they’d even reached the doors.

  Two glass panels slid open, flooding him with cool air. “Ayuda. Ayudame por favor.” Carter called for help and two women in white uniforms came running forward.

  He placed Lily’s limp body onto a trolley and briefed the nurses of their situation. Lily’s bloodshot eyes opened. Her cracked lips parted but no words came out. He wove his fingers into hers and squeezed, but she didn’t respond. His chest tightened at her overwhelming weakness. Carter ran alongside the trolley, clutching her hand while they wheeled her along a fluorescent-lit corridor.

  “What’s happening?” Lily’s voice was a broken whisper.

  “It’s okay, baby, we’re at a hospital now. Close your eyes and rest.”

  She squeezed his hand, and her eyelids fell.

  Hospital staff pulled her trolley into a room with cables dangling from all manner of equipment. The nurse tugged a white curtain around them, and a stout man with a stethoscope around his neck approached Lily. He checked her pulse and his frown drilled his bushy eyebrows together.

  The doctor barked orders at the nurses. An IV drip was attached to Lily’s forearm. One nurse studied the wounds on her hands. Yet another began removing Lily’s boots. When her socks came off, the nurse winced at the sight.

  Carter watched on, fighting exhaustion that threatened to crush him. The room began to swim. Unable to stand a moment more, he tugged a chair to Lily’s side and placed his hand on her arm, hoping she knew he was there.

  Another man in a white coat hooked his hand beneath Carter’s elbow to lift him up. “Vamos, señor, tenemos que mirar a sus lesiones.”

  “I’m okay. Just look after Lily.”

  “She’s in good hands.” The man spoke perfect English. “But you’ll be no help to her if you pass out.”

  Carter had trouble focusing. His eyes burned. His body shook. The man helped him to stand. “I want to see her at all times.” Carter wasn’t sure if he’d actually spoken the words.

  The man pulled open the curtain. A bed was there. The soft mattress was too much to resist. Carter shuffled over, climbed onto the white sheets, and groaned when his head molded into the soft pillow.

  “You can see Lily from here. Okay?”

  He smacked his lips together, trying to get moisture. In the end all he could do was nod.

  The doctor who’d been with Lily appeared at his side. He placed his fingers on Carter’s wrist, checking his pulse. “Where are you hurt?”

  “Everywhere.” Carter didn’t recognize his own voice.

  The doctor smiled. “Okay. Let’s get an IV drip here too.”

  “I have a bullet wound.” Carter reached for his hip, and the doctor’s eyebrows shot up. He clutched at a pair of scissors and came around the other side of the bed.

  “But it’s okay now. Lily cauterized it.”

  The doctor laughed. Maybe he thought Carter was delusional.

  Carter watched for the doctor’s expression as his shorts were cut from his body. The doctor leaned in, his eyes concentrating on the scars. “Good Lord, it is cauterized. Who did you say did this?”

  Carter pointed at the adjacent bed and grinned at the memory of her relaying what she’d done. “With a spoon.”

  The doctor shook his head. “Well, it looks like it’s healing.”

  After a nurse shoved a needle into the back of his hand and connected it to a tube, she went to his feet to remove his shoes. He braced for the pain he knew was coming. She peeled off his wet sock. Carter howled.

  The room swam, darkness crept over the light. He sucked in short, sharp breaths, then everything went black.

  * * * *

  Carter woke to the smells of antiseptic and roast chicken, and the sounds of laughter. He blinked back grogginess, and turned to the people milling around the adjacent bed. Lily was propped up by pillows, dressed in white, and with her dark hair cascading over her shoulders she looked like an angel.

  “Well hello, sleepyhead.” She smiled at Carter and reached over to touch his hand. “How are you?”

  He cleared his throat, noting his tongue was as dry as leather. “Okay. How about you?” Clutching a metal triangle over the bed, he tried to sit.

  “Billy, help him sit up,” Lily requested.

  A man in a checked shirt, with broad shoulders and an equally broad smile, strode to Carter. As Billy fiddled with buttons on the remote control to the bed, Carter frowned at Lily.

  “Carter, I’d like you to meet my brother Billy. And this’s Danny.” She indicated the second man at her side.

  Billy held out his hand, and when Carter gripped it, he tried not to wince at the man�
��s strong embrace. “Thank you for saving my sister.”

  The bed raised and Carter adjusted the pillows behind his head. “Actually, Lily saved me. A few times.”

  “So we heard.” Danny shook his hand too.

  Carter frowned. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “You’ve been dozing on and off for two days.”

  “Two days? Really? What’d I miss?”

  Lily smiled. “Well, my brothers arrived, the police came several times to ask more questions. Oh, and a Sixty Minutes interview.”

  He crinkled his nose at her. “Did not!”

  “Yeah, they did. They interviewed me yesterday, and they’re coming back to interview you later.” The smile fell from her face. “They’re with a police helicopter now, trying to locate Otomi.”

  At the memory of taking photos of Otomi, Carter felt for his jocks, but he was naked beneath the white gown. “Shit.” He sat up and searched the room.

  “What’s wrong?” Lily reached for him.

  “My SD cards. They’re gone.” He tried to get off the bed, but his head spun.

  “Calm down, it’s okay,” Lily said. “The nurses found them when they undressed you. I asked Danny to look after them.”

  He sighed with relief. “Thank God.”

  Danny reached into a drawer at Carter’s side and handed over the little pouch.

  Carter clutched it to his chest, closed his eyes, and inhaled a few calming breaths.

  “Want my computer so you can look at the photos?” Billy asked.

  “Oh, no thanks.” He’d look at the photos in private. Seeing his pictures for the first time was something he treasured. Rarely had he shared that moment with other people, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to break that tradition with Lily’s burly brothers hovering around. Especially as hundreds of photos were sneaky ones he’d taken of Lily.

  He had no idea what she’d told them about him . . . about them, and he didn’t want to be the one breaking the news. Not until he spoke to her first.