Please.
A wordless prayer, since I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t deserve divine help, so I didn’t plead for myself. Just for everybody else. I hoped whoever was listening knew that.
——————
At sundown, Oscar returned to the house in a real temper.
Señora served us more beans and flat bread while Lupita and Angel tried their best to make conversation. My stomach was in such knots I could only eat a few bites. Oscar didn’t say a word about Max. I didn’t ask. It was honestly a relief when Oscar sent me upstairs like a badly behaved child, telling me cryptically, “Tomorrow, you go. No matter what.” Did that mean he was going to turn me in? Or just turn me out?
I wasn’t waiting to find out. When everyone was asleep, I’d get out of their lives.
It seemed like an eternity before the house settled and I heard Oscar come inside after his smoke, banging around like he owned the place, which I suppose he did. I counted to one hundred, waiting for him to sleep. Then counted to one hundred again.
My plan wasn’t so bad. I’d sneak out and make my way through the ravine until I was out of Oscar’s neighborhood. It couldn’t be too hard to follow the glow of lights to the city, stay clear of streetlights and streetcar stops. If I headed north and east, I’d hit Hollywood eventually—or at least someplace familiar. Then I’d find a place with a telephone and call Max.
Maybe it would take all night, but when needs must.
What I didn’t know was walking a true line through a brushy ravine in the dark wasn’t as easy as strawberry pie. I got out of the house nice and quiet and crept past the outhouse and laundry tubs behind the house. A skitter of apprehension got to me as I plunged into the prickly brush of the ravine. I veered around a few dark stands of scrub trees, then detoured around a patch of brambles. After what seemed like an hour of walking, I was turned around. I could make out the glow of streetlights in the distance but didn’t know how to get to them. I wasn’t scared, though, not yet.
Then I heard the howl—long, eerie, and near.
I froze. I’d heard coyotes prowled the city, had even heard their lonely cry, but I wasn’t in the mood to meet one face-to-face. A rustle of brush made my heart hammer like mad. I looked for a tree to climb, a rock to throw—they’re more afraid of me than I am of them, right? —but there was nothing. The rustle came closer and a dark shape emerged from the brush behind me.
“Did you lose your way to the outhouse, Minerva Sinclaire?”
Roman. My hand went to my chest and I gulped air. I was never so glad to see anyone, even with his smart grin. “Did you follow me?”
He came closer, a devilish smile on his face. “Are you not glad I did?” He stood closer than he had to, the dim light of the moon making his dark eyes glitter. “That coyote might think you make a good meal.”
I wasn’t buying his kind of baloney, but maybe he’d help me. “How do I get out of here?”
“Where you want to go?”
“Anywhere with a telephone.” It was worth a try. It was hard to tell what went on behind those bedroom eyes, but Roman didn’tseem to follow Oscar’s orders any better than I did. The coyote howled again, and I jumped. Roman circled me with his arms and pulled me close.
He didn’t look at all ashamed as I pushed him firmly away. “Whatever you have in mind, forget it, buster.”
His white teeth flashed in the dark. “Chica,it’s not what you are thinking. But you can’t go walking around at night. There’s more danger out there than coyotes and snakes.”
“Snakes?”
He frowned. “And bums. Police. All sorts of bad.”
I put my hands on my hips. “I need out of here. The sooner the better for everybody. I’ll call Max and then be gone.”
He raised a brow. “Max. He fix everything?” He didn’t sound convinced.
Maybe he would. I hoped he would. “Why don’t you like him?” I countered. It was like Max was some kind of leper to these people.
Roman took my hand in his and gave me a look from under those long lashes. “You come back with me,chica,and I tell you all about Max.” He shrugged when I hesitated. “Or stay out here with the scorpions.”
I followed him through the brush and right back up to the big oak tree behind his house. Roman sat down, his back to the trunk, and I slid down beside him, checking first for scorpions. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes—the same brand his big brother smoked. He scraped a match against the bark and cupped the flame over his mouth. He took a puff, then passed it to me. It felt good to hold one again, a familiar anchor in this upside-down world. I took a ladylike puff—harsh, but I wasn’t complaining—and handed it back. I blew out a veil of smoke. Time for him to tell me. “Now, Max Clark.”
Roman looked sideways at me. “We play a game, Minerva. It is calledla verdad.”
I was starting to figure why Oscar and Roman didn’t get along so well. Roman pushed the limits to the bitter end.“La verdad?”
“Sí. ‘Truth,’ you say. I ask you a question and you must answer it with the truth. Then, you ask me a question.”
