Emmy And Me

Dinner that night was a strange combination of sad and happy. The Castro house was filled with family and friends come to pay their respects, which was sad, since everybody seemed to have loved Angela and felt her loss. On the other hand, it was a family reunion of sorts, so everyone was happy to see each other despite the unfortunate reason for the occasion.

I could speak just barely good enough to hold limited and slow conversations, but a lot of the family spoke better English than my Spanish, which helped immensely. I think it’s probably accurate to say that I met almost everybody from the large extended family that night- it felt like hundreds of people, but the number couldn’t have been as large as all that.

After a while, I picked up on something that I found surprising, and the more I paid attention, the clearer it became. I’m not sure how to explain it, but it seemed they had a very different attitude about death (and murder in particular) than I’d expect from American families. Not a single person ever hinted that Emmy or I might be to blame in any way for Angela’s death. They all just sort of accepted that people have enemies, and these things sometimes happen. I guess living in a country that had been wracked by guerrilla war and cartel violence for generations can change your perspective on these things.

A number of the older folks expressed some disapproval of the living arrangement that we’d had, but I detected very little of that directed at us being lesbians- mostly it seemed the disapproval was aimed at us being a threesome, which was a bridge slightly too far for some of the grandparents in the family. The younger family members seemed more fascinated by the idea than anything, asking lots of questions about how it worked for us.

At some point in the evening Cecilia appointed herself as my translator, sticking by me to help fill in any gaps in communication between me and whomever I was speaking with at the time. Clearly Emmy didn’t need that kind of assistance, since her Spanish was excellent, but mine was far from that.

Cecilia found herself defending our ménage à trois to various family members on more than one occasion. Her Spanish was way too quick for me to follow, but I managed to understand that Cecilia was doing her best to convince relatives that our relationship was true and beautiful, and we really had been in love, the three of us, and so on.

After one such discussion, I asked Cecilia if she really felt that way.

“Pues, claro,” she said. “Any fool could see it. You loved Angela very much, and she loved you and was very happy.”

“Thanks,” I said, pulling her into a hug. She tried to squirm out of it at first, but then relaxed and wrapped her arms around my waist. We held each other like that for a while, ignoring the crowd of relatives swirling around us.

Finally, when we parted, Cecilia wiped the tears from her eyes and said, “I miss her so much.”

“I do, too, Cecy,” I replied. “It hurts.”

Emmy went up to sleep in Angela’s room long before the majority of family and friends left, but I stayed and helped Mamá and Cecilia straighten up once everyone had gone.

“Emmy, she is still in very much pain,” Mamá said. “This is very hard for her.”

“She tries to hide it, but she was hurt much more in the attack than she likes to admit,” I agreed. “Physically and emotionally.”

“I worry for her,” Mamá said.

“Me, too. I don’t know what I can do to help her other than what I’m already doing, though.”

“I also don’t know,” Mamá admitted. “I think maybe time is the only thing that will help her. When do you leave to go back to the US?”

“First thing the day after tomorrow,” I told her. “I wish we could stay longer, but she refuses to cancel the tour.”

“Brave, but foolish,” Mamá said, shaking her head. “When will the tour finish?”

“Not quite five more weeks,” I said, accepting the glass of avena she handed me as we sat at the table.

“Maybe you two should come back here when it is done,” Mamá said. “She can rest here until she is strong enough.”

“You would be O.K. with that?” I asked.

“Of course!” Mamá exclaimed, as if surprised I would even ask. “Family does for family,” she said, and as far as she was concerned that was all that needed to be said on the subject.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice a little husky with emotion.

Rafael returned from chauffeuring some elderly relatives back home a little while later and soon he and I found ourselves in his home office, drinking some of the bourbon I’d given him.

“What are your plans?” he asked once we’d had a few sips.

“About what in particular?” I asked, unclear on what he meant.

“In general, in specific, all of it. I know you- you always think of what to do next.”

I leaned back, looking to make sure the door was shut and we wouldn’t be overheard. “In the immediate term, I’m going to travel with Emmy for the rest of the tour. I’m going to be seen by her side as much as possible, being the supportive wife as we go through these trying times,” I said.

“This is good,” Rafael said, nodding. “There were reporters at the memorial today- one I know is a… stringer?” he asked, making sure he had the right word. When I nodded, he said, “For the Associated Press, so there is great interest in you two now.”

“Yeah, but also- and this is more important- Emmy just needs it right now. You’ve seen how weak she still is, and how fragile she is emotionally. She needs me more than I need to do anything else for now.”

“True,” Rafael agreed. “I think that you two should come back here when the tour is over. Stay here with us, and let her recover surrounded by family. Your mother is a lovely woman, but she does not seem…” he said, not sure how to verbalize his thoughts. “And Emmy’s parents,” he said lifting his hands in a shrug.

“No, you’re right. Mom’s not great with loss and Emmy’s mom and dad, they aren’t really the comforting types,” I agreed.

“Then it is settled,” Rafael said.

“I’m going to need to take care of things,” I said.

“You do know who ordered the hit?”

“Sort of. We know that most of the attackers were associated with a group of Night Children based in New York. We know their headquarters, but they don’t know that we do,” I explained.

“So they were Night Children? Are these the same that were causing you troubles before, when we visited Los Angeles?” Rafael asked.

“They might be the same. We don’t really know since we have no idea how far their influence spreads, but these guys were able to put nine attackers in play a thousand miles away from their base, so I’d think they have plenty of pull. In any case, my guys are preparing for an attack, but we need to wait for just the right moment when we can catch them by surprise.”

“I did tell you that urban assaults were the specialty of my unit in the military, right? I could help, if you need it,” Rafael offered.

“I think we have more than enough manpower, but thanks,” I said.

“Your man here, Jody- he returned to the United States two days after the attack, and took some men with him,” Rafael said, proving that he was paying attention to our doings.

“He and Grant are training the men right now,” I replied. “When it comes time, we’ll be ready.”

“I imagine you will,” Rafael, said, nodding. After a moment of thought, he asked, “What will happen after?”

“Our hope is that we get enough intel from taking their headquarters that we can root out all of the opposition and also figure out who their outside contacts are.”

“Hoping is not a very good strategy,” Rafael said. “But sometimes it is all that we have. But I was asking about what you and Emmy will do with your lives.”

“We haven’t talked about it yet,” I admitted. “Emmy… She’s a very private person, even with me. It’s hard to get her to talk about things like that. If I had to guess, in a year or so, after she’s fully healed, we’ll try again to have another baby. It was really hard for her to conceive the first time, and I don’t know what kind of damage she might have taken in the attack…”

“A living baby will do very much to heal her emotions,” Rafael said, refreshing my glass, then pouring himself another couple of fingers. “My Marisa, she lost her first baby, and it was very hard on her. Very hard. She was terribly frightened it would happen again when she got pregnant with Angela, but then, when she finally held our beautiful baby girl in her arms, it was my old, loving Marisa back. The light returned to her in that moment.”

“Like I said, Emmy and I haven’t talked about it, but hope we can give it another try,” I told him. “We still have a bunch of eggs for the procedure, after all.”

“Where do you see things in two years? In five?” Rafael asked.

“Let’s see… In two years I’ll have complete control of North America and a really solid presence here in South America. Emmy will either be pregnant or we’ll already have our little baby, and…” I said, running out of things to say.

“You plan to continue here in Colombia?” Rafael asked.

“Absolutely,” I replied. “After we get Colombia locked down we’ll start with the neighboring countries, but my guess is that we’ll find the most Night Children in older cities on the Atlantic and Caribbean coasts. Here in Colombia, for instance, while there are hundreds of Night Children here, there might only be a fraction of that number in Bogotá or Medellín. If I had to guess, I’d expect big numbers in Salvador, Buenos Aires, Rio, Sao Paolo and Caracas but not very many in, say, Lima or Santiago.”

“Your plans have not changed with Angela’s death?” Rafael asked for clarification.

“If anything, it’s made it clear that we need to push harder, to clear out any resistance,” I told him.

“This is good,” Rafael said, leaning back. “I had been concerned that you would abandon your new people here.”

“That isn’t going to happen,” I assured him. “Regardless of any personal setbacks, this campaign is going to continue to its end. It looks like you’ve been following how things are going here, so you must know that pretty much the entire communities of Albornoz and Tierra Bomba have joined our nation already.”

“Yes, Ricky and me, we talk,” Rafael admitted. “It is good work you are doing here.”

“That’s not going to stop. We’re working with local leaders to figure out how we can best help the people here, and there have been some good ideas.”

“This must cost you a lot of money,” Rafael said.

“It does,” I agreed. “But this is what we have our money for, so we can do this. This is very important work.”

Rafael nodded, assured that we weren’t going to abandon our promises to his fellow Colombians. “I expected no less, but it is good to hear you say it.”

Once again I didn’t have the heart to roust Emmy out of Angela’s old bed, so I texted the guys that we’d be staying at the Castro house. Eddie replied that they were patrolling the neighborhood and everything was calm, so I slid into that little bed and held Emmy in my arms until I fell asleep, too.

The next day I left Emmy at the house while I went to Tierra Bomba with Ricky in the morning. We talked with some of the local elders and looked at a couple of possible sites for cultural center schools. I showed him the old hacienda on the road out of town, and he agreed that it could be perfect, but would take a lot of work to build to suit.

Shrugging, I said, “Construction needs local workers, right?”

In Barrio Albornoz we had lunch at the same familiar place, and the old lady who ran the restaurant greeted me warmly. Through Ricky’s translation she said that her whole family was now makeup-free and living as themselves, finally proud to show their heritage.

“A lot of people here have stopped hiding,” Ricky said as he piloted the little truck like a local through the streets. "It has been amazing.”

“That’s what we want,” I said, pleased at how easily Cartagena was going for our outreach.

“Um, Leah, how long do you think you will need me here?” Ricky finally asked.

“If you want to go back to the US, it can be arranged,” I assured him.

“Um, no,” Ricky said. “I was hoping I could stay here for a while. I like it here, you know?”

“I like it here, too,” I agreed. “Rafael tells me that you two talk…”

“He’s been a great help,” Ricky said. “He knows all the right people here to get things done.”

“He does know everybody here,” I agreed. “I’m thinking that when we’re ready to start moving beyond Cartagena, I’ll still keep this as our capital. We’ll need to set up a training center here, for our folks who are going to go on into other cities.”

“So this really is long-term for you?” Ricky asked as he pulled to a stop in front of the Castro house.

“Very long-term. This is who we are. This is what we do,” I told him, looking him straight in the eyes. “We are here, and this is now our land, and these are our people. It’s that simple.”

I found Emmy in the kitchen, sitting at the table while Mamá bustled around the kitchen.

“You look nice and rested,” I said, giving her a kiss. “I’m glad you got good sleep last night.”

“She sleep well because she knows this is her home, not just another hotel,” Mamá said, handing me a glass of that coconut and lime drink Angela used to like so much. “Staying in hoteles is not good for the soul.”

Emmy gave me a smile at that. “Mamá is right,” she said. “I am so tired of hotels.”

“Em,” I said, holding her hand. “You’re the one who insisted on continuing the tour.”

“I know,” she admitted. “And I believe it was the right choice, but this, being here… It has been so good for me.”

“Did Mamá tell you that they’ve invited us to come back and stay as long as you need once the tour is over?” I asked.

“Claro que sí!” Mamá said over her shoulder. “Emmy, she need family around her. You, too, Lee. You are strong, but it is not weak to need family. You two come back and stay until Emmy is strong,” she said, shaking her finger in admonishment at us.

“I would like that,” Emmy whispered hopefully.

“Of course we’ll come back. Of course we will,” earning me a grateful smile from Emmy.

Andy and Jenna joined us at the Castro house for dinner. Somehow we managed to keep the conversation light, not straying into the subject of the reason we were all in Cartagena anyway. When Jenna mentioned that a monkey had tried to bite her, Cecilia told her that they only bite tourists.

“How do they know?” Jenna asked.

“They know because only tourists try to feed them. People who live here know better,” Cecilia said.

Andy laughed. “She got you there,” he said. “Personally, I thought the sloth was much cooler. It was in the same park right by that big church, but in a different tree than all those monkeys.”

“Sloth?” Cecilia asked.

“El perezoso,” Rafael explained. “In English, it is called a sloth. Sloth is also the sin of laziness.”

“Sloth,” Cecilia said, trying the word out. Then she turned to Andy. “You must be very careful with the sloths,” she said, her mouth having a hard time with the word. “They are very dangerous.” At Andy’s incredulous look, she said, “They move slow to fool you, but when you get close they will leap suddenly to attack.”

“Seriously?” Andy asked.

“She’s teasing you,” Jenna said. “You big goof.”

“No, it is true. They are very savage. Even the jaguares are afraid of them,” Cecilia said, but her smile gave it away.

“You had me for a moment,” Andy admitted, making everybody laugh.

“Dinner was nice tonight,” Emmy said as we settled into Angela’s little bed for our last night there in Cartagena. “I miss Angela terribly, but it was good to not talk about it. I am sorry if that sounds selfish…”

“It’s not selfish,” I said. “Angela was a very special person and we both loved her very much, but now we need to figure out how to move forward without her, and so do Mamá, Rafael and Cecy. It’s hard, but life continues for the rest of us, after all. Angela wouldn’t want us to be miserable, would she?”

“No, she would not,” Emmy admitted. “She would want us to be happy.” After a few minutes of silence, Emmy asked, “Mamá and Papá- will they continue to be part of our lives?”

“I would like them to be,” I replied, “And they seem to assume that of course we would, and that makes me happy. Of course, every time I see them I’m going to think of Angela, but in a good way, if that makes sense. I’ve really grown fond of the whole family, and it’s really easy for me to understand why Angela turned out the way she did, you know? I guess they represent a part of her to me, and maybe we do the same for them. But yeah, I like the idea of coming back here after the tour, just to give you peace and quiet to recover.”

“I see Angela in Papá’s face, and in Cecy’s expressions. Sometimes, when Mamá says certain things I hear Angela’s voice, too. It hurts a little bit, but it is also comforting,” Emmy said, snuggling up closer against me. “I do not want to lose them.”

“I don’t, either,” I agreed. “I told Ricky today that I want to keep Cartagena as our base here in South America, and honestly, a lot of that is to remain in touch with the Castros.”

Emmy turned her head and kissed my arm wrapped around her. “I do miss her more than I ever would have thought possible,” she said.

“I do too, baby,” I said. “I do, too.”

“This is the first time I’ve ever flown in a private jet,” Jenna said as we leveled out on our flight to Houston. “I didn’t even know you guys had one.”

“We don’t,” I said, looking up from my laptop. “This belongs to Emmy’s parents. We’re just borrowing it for a week, that’s all.”

“How much does something like this cost?” Andy asked.

“A lot,” I told him. “Obviously, purchase price is all over the map, depending on what model, used or new, that kind of thing. A plane like this, used? As low as fifteen mil, as high last twenty-two or so. Add in annual running costs of two million a year, plus or minus, and it starts to add up.”

“How does that pencil out versus flying commercial? Like, first class?”

“You’d have to fly a lot to justify it on a cost comparison, but that’s not why people like the Lascauxs own a jet like this. For them, it’s the convenience, right? Take this flight, for example. As far as I know there are no direct flights from Cartagena to Houston, so we’d have a stopover in either Panama City, Bogotá or Miami, which adds hours to the flight. Then there’s the scheduling- we would have to fly when the airline ran a plane, not when we wanted to. As it is, this allowed us to spend a whole extra day in Cartagena, so in effect, that’s what we’re paying for.”

“I guess when you have enough money, the cost of things don’t matter as much,” Andy said, nodding his head in understanding.

“No, that’s absolutely right. The convenience and comfort become much greater considerations, when the cost really isn’t a factor,” I agreed.

“Have you thought about getting your own plane?” Jenna asked. “You guys have enough money.”

“We do,” I admitted. “I’ve considered it, but just haven’t been able to rationalize the cost just yet. Now that we own a place in London and I’ll be traveling to Cartagena on the regular, things might change…”

“I can’t help but notice that both of those are, um, ‘Angela places’," Jenna said.

“When you guys were out and about in Cartagena, did you see any Night Children? Besides the guys we brought, I mean?” I asked.

“We saw a busker at the park with the monkeys,” Andy said. “You remember, right?” he asked, nudging Jenna with his elbow.

“Yeah,” Jenna agreed.

“Well, it turns out there are a whole lot of them in town, and they’re all joining our nation, so Cartagena is turning out to be a very important town as far as Night Children business is concerned, so I’ll have to come down every now and then to maintain a presence. Plus, Emmy and I both love the rest of the Castro family and don’t want to lose contact with them.”

“And London?” Jenna prompted.

“Buying there was Angela’s idea, but the argument was sound and hasn’t changed,” I told her.

“I thought it was about the babies, so you guys could be close to Emmy’s parents,” Jenna objected.

“We’re gonna try again,” I said, even though Emmy and I had not exactly spoken about it. I hoped it was true, anyway.