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  Leilani was bewildered. The fear in her mother’s eyes and her mouth had been palpable not only when she stared at her inside the classroom, but also when she drove towards the airport, gripping the steering wheel so tight that, from the back passenger seat, Leilani could see the muscles in her arms twitching.

  Leilani and Carmen ran faster, laughing, infected by their mother’s mirth. Leilani felt light and carefree. Everything was going to be all right. But the feeling lasted only a few short minutes.

  Before they reached the plane, she saw a man she remembered seeing with her father once. He was a big man with alert, suspicious eyes that Leilani found menacing. He waited for them at the foot of the steps to the plane.

  He took the suitcase from her mother’s hand and said, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Torres, I couldn’t get him out. Rudy is waiting for you inside the plane. He’s in the front row.”

  The laughter died from her mother’s face and deep worry crept back on her brow. The man was clearly talking about her father. Something awful was going on and no one was telling them anything about it. She had to find out what it was.

  Inside the plane, she spotted her brother sitting on an aisle seat. He stood to let her and Carmen pass to the seats next to him. As was Carmen’s habit on a bus, a train, or a plane, she claimed the window seat and Leilani had to content herself with the place wedged between her and Rudy. At least her brother, the oldest among them, liked her better than Carmen. He would tell her what was going on.

  Her mother took the aisle seat across from Rudy. He helped her place the small luggage Carmen carried in the compartment above her.

  Before she sat down, she reached out silently, reassuring each of them with a tender pat on their hands. But Leilani caught the sadness in her eyes.

  Rudy sat down again and buckled himself in place.

  Leilani said in a soft subdued voice, “Where’s Papá?”

  “He couldn’t come. But he should follow us soon.”

  “What’s going on, Rudy? Where are we going?”

  “I don’t know any more than you do. The guy you saw by the steps? I know him. He picked me up at school, said he had a letter from Papá to me. But I wasn’t supposed to open it until after we get to where we’re going. It’s in my jacket pocket. Then, he brought me here without telling me anything more.”

  “Are we escaping? Is Papá in trouble?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Leilani pouted and scowled. “Because … Why doesn’t anyone say anything and why is everything so mysterious? Can’t you open the letter now?”

  Rudy shook his head. “No! You’ll have to wait, like me.”

  “Does Mamá know what’s going on?”

  “She must, but you know Mamá. She thinks her main role is to protect Papá, at all costs.”

  “But why does Papá need protecting? Did he do something wrong?”

  “I’m as clueless as you about this,” Rudy said, scowling and getting irritated.

  “What about my clothes? My dolls? I promised to call Myrna.”

  “I think Mamá might have brought a few clothes in that big suitcase.”

  “But where’s that suitcase?”

  “The stewardess put it away on a luggage rack. Now, Lani, will you shut up until we get to wherever we’re headed?”

  Leilani pouted again, leaned back against the seat, and closed her eyes. She was going to sleep if nobody wanted to talk to her. Still, she did not give up that easily. She would find out somehow.

  Not long after, she felt her brother’s hand on her arm. He whispered in her ear.

  “I’ll tell you this, though you won’t like. Be prepared. For anything.”

  “Why?” She tried to whisper but her shrill voice rose above the whirr of the plane.

  “Shhh! I don’t know much, but I’ve seen and heard enough. We’re not going back home. Ever. No more Myrna. And you’ll have to make do with the few clothes Mamá packed for you until Papá comes.”

  I. Leilani

  Leilani closed the door behind her last client, a man who had been coming for therapy sessions to stop his compulsion to chew pencils and many other hard inedible objects he got his hands on, objects he invariably put in his mouth. He was a difficult case, though she had to admit to herself that she found his compulsion a little funny. He talked fast and a lot, and often left her tired and thirsty.

  How quickly the week went by. She plopped her body on her office chair and took a bottle of water from a drawer stacked with a dozen of them. She gulped a few mouthfuls before she leaned back, sipping the rest of the water slowly, her eyes focused at nothing in particular, her mind blank. After a day of helping people cope with tough, and sometimes destructive, compulsions, she treasured those ten or fifteen minutes of solitary respite at the end of her workday. They were as necessary to her as eating and sleeping.

  She threw the empty bottle into a bin she used to collect plastic bottles for recycling, and opened the memo app in her iPad. Her week was going to be pretty full. Her schedule for the coming week listed five or six regular clients every day, all of whom she had been working with for some time. Nothing new about that. Most of them would be coming back the week after.

  Thanksgiving was three weeks away. What a relief that she had only five clients to see that week, all of them scheduled on the first two weekdays. She would have time on Wednesday to help her mother prepare Thanksgiving dinner at her home. Rudy and Carmen, with their families, would be there.

  Leilani touched the framed photo of her father on her desk, a habit she acquired shortly after their arrival in the new country. A nostalgic gesture she felt compelled to make before she left her office. For her, the touch was a way of connecting with her father, who she last saw eighteen years ago. He never followed them, as Rudy had said. They had no clue, even now, where he could be.

  On Friday evenings, the momentary connection lasted a little longer. She picked up the picture and studied it. A man in his mid-thirties, looking trim and vigorous in a military uniform with the three triangles of a captain on the shoulders. He had stretched his lips to suggest a smile, although his eyes betrayed anxiety he could not hide—not from Leilani, anyway. She wondered how he looked now. Her mother had aged and put on some weight, so he probably did, too, but she could not imagine him twenty years older.

  The letter he had written Rudy told them nothing about his whereabouts or why he could not join them. But he made it clear that Rudy, who was then sixteen and in his first year in college, must assume responsibility for the family because he, their father, could no longer do so. The family would get help from the man who saw them off at the airport. He would follow them soon and give them an important box.

  Less than a month after they fled Costa Mora, uprisings flared up and continued until a new regime took over. Rudy was sure their father had suffered and died in one of them. But until a year ago, Leilani remained hopeful. Someday, her mother’s doorbell would ring and her father would walk in, gaunt and weak, but alive. Nobody had ever given them evidence that he had been killed, and she preferred to imagine him hiding somewhere in the mountains of Costa Mora.

  Costa Mora, her native land. She knew so little about it, most of it gleaned from the internet. Her stay there had been short, sheltered by high walls, both in school and at home.

  Leilani missed her father—so much that it surprised her. As a child, she had taken his affection and his presence for granted. She hadn’t known how attached to him she had been until she realized, painfully, that she would very likely never see him again.

  Dr. Torres had been away on his job too often. But when he was home, he took obvious pleasure in gathering his children around him. He read to them, told them stories—all made up, Leilani found out later—and took them places for fun and treats. They often left their mother home with her flowers, her bottles of nail polish, and her books. He said she needed a vacation from all of them once in a while, and he was more than happy to ha
ve his children to himself.

  Leilani sensed her father’s presence even when he was no longer there. The box he had left them contained records for stocks and bank accounts he kept in Switzerland and the United States for many years. Though the total value of all his assets did not amount to a fortune in dollars, it had been enough for the Torres family to live comfortably on its interests and earnings, and pay for Rudy’s and Leilani’s college education. It also helped Carmen buy an almond farm with her husband. She had announced, at eighteen, that she was skipping college and getting married. She left, taking her portion of the principal. Mrs. Torres was now living off the profits of the remaining investments.

  *****

  Leilani took her purse out of the lowest drawer in her desk and opened it briefly to make sure everything she usually carried was in it. She got up, snatched her jacket off the coatrack and put it on. She looked around the room and turned off all the lights at the main switch by the door to her office.

  The building had emptied of people who worked or did business in it. Just another normal Friday evening. Only the guard at the lobby remained.

  As she passed by, he said, “Have a nice night, Dr. Torres.”

  He never varied from that parting remark, which she always answered with “Thank you, Addo. Stay cool.”

  Leilani was not comfortable being addressed as “Dr. Torres.” In her mind, Dr. Torres was her father. Besides, she was new in her profession and needed at least another year to match the experience of colleagues with whom she shared an office suite.

  Out in the dark night, Leilani shivered from the cold, damp air. She had vacillated in the morning whether to use her winter coat or not, but the weatherman on television predicted sunshine for the day. She ran toward her car in the lot reserved for staff, nearly empty except for Addo’s pick-up truck.

  Her ride home would take longer than usual. Friday evening started date nights and many students at the nearby university would be out in their cars clogging traffic, or walking around, slowing its flow. She could not complain. She was among them once. She resolved to be patient and think of the relaxing night ahead of her.

  Friday nights were for coddling herself. She would microwave something from her freezer, take a quick bite, undress, and fill her tub with hot water, bubble crystals and aromatic drops. She would put on some music and spend an hour luxuriating in warm, scented water and a cloud of bubbles, her eyes closed, her mind and body yielding to the soothing powers of water and music. For her, that was a bit of heaven on earth. Thinking about it eased the tension in her limbs and her chest.

  She chuckled at her images and realized she was not that different from her mother and Carmen. Her mother had her nails, Carmen her skin, and she, her obsession with her bubbly, aromatic bath.

  Leilani peered in the dark at the buildings she was driving by. She must have been in a trance imagining the rest of her evening. She was already downtown. Most office workers had left for home and the area looked deserted. She glanced at the clock on her dashboard. At a quarter past seven at night, she could go through this part of town quickly. Traffic did not usually slow her down until she reached the commercial sections two miles from the university.

  But she had to be more attentive. Downtown, while safe in the daytime, was threatening at night.

  The next traffic light turned red before she could drive past it. Traffic lights were in full force. She looked around her. No other car next to her, behind her, or in the cross traffic. While that reassured her, she could not yet let her guard down. She was still in downtown.

  She gripped the steering wheel and resisted an impulse to ignore the traffic light and drive on. How annoying that she felt she must obey those streetlights. No one was in sight. Who would know if she ran a light? The cameras would. They were all over.

  When the light turned green, she drove a little faster and it was not until the fourth light that she had to stop. She looked around again and on the other side of the road, about the middle of the next block, she saw three men, standing and facing each other.

  She watched the shadowy figures, more out of a self-preservation instinct than curiosity about what they might be doing. They could be talking, or arguing, or dealing drugs. Anything was possible in that part of town.

  When the light turned green, she let out a long breath of relief. Trembling with an urgency to flee the area, she was about to step on the gas pedal, but her curiosity was too strong to resist. She glanced over at the men one last time.

  Her heart leaped. Another figure was lying on the ground. The standing men were not talking to each other. They were taunting and kicking the fallen man. Their victim folded his arms on his chest, trying to shield himself.

  One of the muggers raised his arm. Leilani saw the steely gleam of an object in his hand. Too slim for a gun. More like a knife or an ice pick. Her heart thumped faster. And her instincts took over.

  Her left hand on the steering wheel, she groped with her right for her purse on the passenger seat and reached inside for the gun she always carried in it. She placed the gun on her lap, and pushed a button to roll the window down on the passenger side. She eased her foot on the accelerator, made a sharp U-turn, and stepped on the gas pedal.

  Limbs shaking, heart racing, she screeched to a stop right next to the men and pointed the gun at them.

  “Get away from him or I’ll shoot! I’m warning you. I’m a dead shot.” She shouted as loud as she could.

  The muggers all turned toward her and froze in place for an instant. The weapon one of them held was a knife. She was ready to shoot the hand holding it, if she was forced to.

  She squinted her eyes at them, her right hand steady on the gun. The adrenalin rush of fear and urgency was gone. She was in control and the thugs knew it. They scurried away.

  Gun still in hand, Leilani got out of the car and ran toward the man. He seemed unconscious, badly beaten. She had to take him to a hospital. Calling an ambulance was not a choice. Not in that part of town. And not with the threat of the thugs returning with other weapons.

  She opened the backdoor to her car and reached over to lay the gun on the front passenger seat. She took a few steps back to where the man lay, and dropped on her haunches to help him up.

  One look at him spread flat on the ground—tall, thick in his arms and legs—and she doubted that she could drag him to the backseat of her car. She grasped his arms and raised him to a seating position, supporting his upper body with her own. He had hard muscles on his arms and his body and she guessed that he must weigh nearly two hundred pounds. How could she, at one hundred fifteen pounds, hope to get him into her car?

  She said, “Sir, can you hear me? We have to get out of here. This is a dangerous part of town.”

  The man grunted. At least he was conscious.

  “Can you get up and lean on me? I’ll take you to the hospital. We should get out of here fast.”

  The man turned his head toward her and opened his eyes behind bruised lids beginning to swell. His breath reeked of alcohol.

  Leilani said, “Please, please try. We have to get out. You need medical attention, and those thugs may come back any minute.”

  The man raised one arm and Leilani put it around her shoulder. “Make an effort to get up. Please.”

  “I’m … trying,” he said. She could barely hear him.

  He raised his knees. Leaning on her, his feet on the ground, he pushed himself up. He tottered. She spread her feet farther apart to steady him. They both took one step at a time to the backseat of her car. Four small, arduous steps to traverse two feet.

  Leilani guided him down to the backseat and let go. He fell heavily, his body bouncing once before it settled on the firm cushion. She picked up his legs and folded them up on the seat.

  Her heart was thumping from his weight and the exertion of hauling him into the car. She straightened and saw movement to her right. A block and a half away, the three thugs were running back t
owards them. She slammed the door and heard the man yelp in pain.

  But she had no time to spare. She ran around to the driver side, thankful that she had left the door open. She got in, pulled the door closed, and pushed the button that locked all doors.

  Trembling once more with fear and an urgent need to escape, she turned the engine on and groped for the gun on the front seat. She put the car in reverse, rammed the gas pedal, and steered the car into a U-turn. The thugs were a block away. She whizzed through three red lights, and looked back at the vanishing figures on her rearview mirror. She took a deep breath and released it slowly.

  A few more deep breaths calmed her down a little more. She turned her head toward the man. “You okay back there?”

  “I’ll live,” he said in a hoarse voice. “But I think you broke my foot when you closed the door.”

  “Oh, my God. I’m sorry.”

  “A little price to pay for saving my life. At least you left me the other foot to hobble on.”

  She smiled. His attempt at humor eased the small pang of guilt she felt, inflicting more injury on him. Were their current situation not so wild and unlikely, she might have liked to get to know him.

  The next instant, he added, between labored breaths,“ Wouldn’t it be nice … if doctors can fix other things wrong with us … as easily … as well … as they can a broken foot?”

  Leilani frowned. Her trained ears detected sadness and regret in how he spoke. He had suffered from some relatively recent painful experience. Loss of someone important to him, most likely. She resisted the urge to ask him. Nothing, at that instant was as urgent as getting him to the hospital. She drove faster.

  Ten minutes later, she stopped at the entrance to Emergency. She glanced back at him. He lay motionless, oblivious to her. She ran out of the car to Reception.

  Not long after, she rushed back to the car, a nursing assistant and a burly hospital security guard following a few paces behind her. As the assistant and the guard placed him on the gurney, he opened his eyes and focused them on Leilani’s face.