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He nods. “More than one, actually.”
“I’m interested, but I need to hear more.” This could be the answer to my prayers, or a trap.
“Do you have papers or a passport?” he asks, studying me carefully.
I have an ID, but it’s issued in the US. I’ll still need a passport to travel. “No. I’m a Portuguese citizen, but I don’t have papers.”
“That’s okay. It’ll cost you extra, but I know a ship where they look the other way, as long as you have money.”
“How much money?” I ask, holding my breath.
He shrugs. “It depends how far you’re going, and how generous the captain feels today.”
I glance at the man. He’s a little rough around the edges, but he seems like a nice enough guy. It’s not as though the docks are deserted. There are plenty of people around. But more than that, I don’t have a better option. I don’t haveanyother option.
“Let’s go talk to the captain.” My insides are shaking, and the bravado in my voice surprises me.
“Let’s go,” he says, walking in the direction of the red light the guard cautioned me about. “By the way, I’m Joey.”
“Nice to meet you, Joey. I’m Rosa,” I add without missing a beat. He doesn’t give me the creeps like the guy in the market, but I don’t know him, and there’s no way I’m giving him my real name.
As we get closer to the ominous red glow, I start to get anxious. Joey doesn’t look like he could fight off unsavory characters or whatever trouble might lurk beyond the red light. “The guard warned me not to go beyond this point. He made it seem dangerous.”
“Yeah. I heard that. But there’s no way you’re getting on a ship without papers, unless you venture farther into the port. Besides, he was talking about you walking around alone. You’re not alone anymore.”
I side-eye the stranger with his gangly frame.It feels like I’m still alone.
47
Daniela
Joey whistles, and a young man peers over the side of the ship.
“Captain around?” Joey yells up to him.
The man nods.
We stand on the edge of the pier, the diesel fluid competing with the smell of brackish water. It’s nauseating. My stomach’s empty, but I’m glad I didn’t eat one of those greasy croquettes.
“Do you know the captain well?” I ask before taking out the water bottle from my pack. I’m still not comfortable with any of this. It’s not at all what I’d envisioned when Melissa described her vacation travel.People embellish.
“We’re not drinking buddies, but I’ve known the captain a long time. He can be intimidating—got to be to take those tankers out on the open ocean, day after day. Nerves of steel. But he’s a good guy when you get to know him.”
Maybe.“Do you know other people who have traveled with him?”
“Plenty. You worried?”
Scared to death.I shrug.
“You don’t need to worry. The ship’s solid, the crew competent, and the captain knows what he’s doing. You’ll be basking in the sun before you know it.”
Before I can ask any more questions, a man comes into view, unhooks a rope from the top of a ramp, and jogs down toward us. He’s in his forties, maybe, tall and muscular with a suntan. I don’t know if it’s because of his size, or because he has such a stern look, but he’s intimidating. Joey was right.
“Good evening,” he says, sliding his hands into his pants pockets.
“Good evening, Captain. I’d like you to meet Rosa. She’s interested in an adventure, but her passport was stolen.”
The lie trips easily off his tongue. I never said my passport was stolen, but I suppose he had to say something.
