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Authors: Steven Gould
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Later, I learned how to time things, to ride the breakers in and to row out without taking on too much water.
Rodrigo, one of Alejandra's many cousins, teased me about the sail and oars. He wanted me to buy an outboard, but I hated the stink and the noise. Every time he brought it up, I rubbed my fingers against my thumb. "iTu tienes dinero para la gasolina ? "
He was always broke so he had no answer. He'd reached the magic age of fourteen and what little money he had went to las ninas, the girls. While I took him out fishing and lob–stering, sometimes Alejandra forbade me to lend the boat to him, to impress the girls.
"You might not drown, mon cher, and I know Rodrigo can swim like a fish, but his girlfriends? Let him get his own boat. I don't want him sailing off to remote beaches. He'll get them drowned, or worse!"
I didn't quite see what was worse than being drowned, but I figured out what she meant, eventually. It seemed odd, since she had boyfriends and there'd been times when they'd spent the night.
She blushed when I pointed this out, but she said, "I am not fourteen or thirteen. That is the difference."
Rodrigo's answer to this prohibition was to try to get me to take him and his filles du jour out, but the dingy was too small. I offered to take these girls for rides sin el–without him–but this didn't go over so well.
Every three months I climbed the hill into the jungle behind the Monjarraz compound and jumped to Sam's place in
California
. Usually I would just transport Consuelo and some gifts back, but once Sam came, too, and I took him fishing.
I had my eleventh birthday, and then my twelfth.
Pretty much I kept the rules. I didn't jump near Alejandra's house or anywhere near people. If I wanted to practice, I'd take my boat out at sunrise and sail to the Isla la Montosa, a rocky island east, out from
Tangolunda
Bay
. I could usually get in an hour before the dive boats showed up with the tourists.
I was being careful.
So I really resented it when they still found me.
Chapter Five Going to Ground
I had ten minutes' warning–an enormous amount of time, really. Didn't even have to jump. Not immediately. I was at the translation agency, Significado Claro, answering phones for Alejandra while she attended a real estate purchase at the lawyer's office down the block. An American couple were buying property for their retirement.
They had a bit of espahol but wisely wanted to be absolutely clear on everything they were signing.
Our dentist, the elderly Dr. Andres Ortega, called and asked for Alejandra. I explained she was out and offered to take a message. He asked for me, that is, Guillermo Losada.
"Esyo, Doctor."
He spoke rapidly in Spanish. "Some foreign men were just here with an agent of the AFI. They had dental records. Your dental records." The AFI was the Agencia Federal de Investigation–the Mexican equivalent of the
United States
' FBI. "They were American records and they had a different name on them... Guillermo." He paused. "I had to give them your address. They just left here."
My heart began pounding like waves crashing into the shore after a storm. Ka–thud. Ka–thud.
Traitor teeth. I'd had two fillings eight months before. See what not flossing will do?
"Do they have the address of Alejandra's agency?"
"No – it wasn't in your records. I didn't show them hers."
"Thank you, Doctor. Thank you very much."
I hung up. My impulse was to jump away, to Sam's, but Dr. Ortega's office was in
Santa Cruz
, the next village over. It would take them at least ten minutes to get into La Crucecita and then they would be going to the house.
So I jumped to the house first. I kept my money in a Oaxa–can black pottery hexagonal box, the lid decorated with cutout triangles. I think I liked the box better than the money.
I dropped it in the middle of my bed, on the light spread.
Then the contents of my dresser, grabbing the drawers, dumping them on the spread, and sticking them back in the
Rodrigo, one of Alejandra's many cousins, teased me about the sail and oars. He wanted me to buy an outboard, but I hated the stink and the noise. Every time he brought it up, I rubbed my fingers against my thumb. "iTu tienes dinero para la gasolina ? "
He was always broke so he had no answer. He'd reached the magic age of fourteen and what little money he had went to las ninas, the girls. While I took him out fishing and lob–stering, sometimes Alejandra forbade me to lend the boat to him, to impress the girls.
"You might not drown, mon cher, and I know Rodrigo can swim like a fish, but his girlfriends? Let him get his own boat. I don't want him sailing off to remote beaches. He'll get them drowned, or worse!"
I didn't quite see what was worse than being drowned, but I figured out what she meant, eventually. It seemed odd, since she had boyfriends and there'd been times when they'd spent the night.
She blushed when I pointed this out, but she said, "I am not fourteen or thirteen. That is the difference."
Rodrigo's answer to this prohibition was to try to get me to take him and his filles du jour out, but the dingy was too small. I offered to take these girls for rides sin el–without him–but this didn't go over so well.
Every three months I climbed the hill into the jungle behind the Monjarraz compound and jumped to Sam's place in
California
. Usually I would just transport Consuelo and some gifts back, but once Sam came, too, and I took him fishing.
I had my eleventh birthday, and then my twelfth.
Pretty much I kept the rules. I didn't jump near Alejandra's house or anywhere near people. If I wanted to practice, I'd take my boat out at sunrise and sail to the Isla la Montosa, a rocky island east, out from
Tangolunda
Bay
. I could usually get in an hour before the dive boats showed up with the tourists.
I was being careful.
So I really resented it when they still found me.
Chapter Five Going to Ground
I had ten minutes' warning–an enormous amount of time, really. Didn't even have to jump. Not immediately. I was at the translation agency, Significado Claro, answering phones for Alejandra while she attended a real estate purchase at the lawyer's office down the block. An American couple were buying property for their retirement.
They had a bit of espahol but wisely wanted to be absolutely clear on everything they were signing.
Our dentist, the elderly Dr. Andres Ortega, called and asked for Alejandra. I explained she was out and offered to take a message. He asked for me, that is, Guillermo Losada.
"Esyo, Doctor."
He spoke rapidly in Spanish. "Some foreign men were just here with an agent of the AFI. They had dental records. Your dental records." The AFI was the Agencia Federal de Investigation–the Mexican equivalent of the
United States
' FBI. "They were American records and they had a different name on them... Guillermo." He paused. "I had to give them your address. They just left here."
My heart began pounding like waves crashing into the shore after a storm. Ka–thud. Ka–thud.
Traitor teeth. I'd had two fillings eight months before. See what not flossing will do?
"Do they have the address of Alejandra's agency?"
"No – it wasn't in your records. I didn't show them hers."
"Thank you, Doctor. Thank you very much."
I hung up. My impulse was to jump away, to Sam's, but Dr. Ortega's office was in
Santa Cruz
, the next village over. It would take them at least ten minutes to get into La Crucecita and then they would be going to the house.
So I jumped to the house first. I kept my money in a Oaxa–can black pottery hexagonal box, the lid decorated with cutout triangles. I think I liked the box better than the money.
I dropped it in the middle of my bed, on the light spread.
Then the contents of my dresser, grabbing the drawers, dumping them on the spread, and sticking them back in the
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