When I Knew You (15 page)

Antonia nodded. "So you don't want to draw attention by peeling out of here, right?" Her southern drawl was thicker, but the flush in her cheeks was starting to fade even as she looked in the side view mirror.
 

We sat there for a minute, then, when I saw another car leaving, I pulled a ball cap from the back seat and put it on. "Duck down. That way it looks like there's just one person." Antonia slouched down in the seat while I eased out of the lot, hoping I looked like just another senior citizen who scored free waffles.

Chapter 18

Antonia inched up after we got on the freeway. She reached over and squeezed my leg affectionately, relief on her face. She looked out the side window. "Where are we going?"
 

"The university."
 

"Good," she said. "I think I've been there before."

She'd been there a lot. She was part of a study on traumatic brain injuries. Every month she'd go in and meet with a new set of graduate students. She'd go through a series of tests. I used to go with her, fill out a sheet with little bubbles next to multiple choice questions. The answers always looked like a straight line down the form: "no change."

It was a twenty-minute drive to UTEP and I finally stopped checking the rear view mirror obsessively when we hit downtown. We'd driven in silence as if Eliah could hear us inside the truck as if by being quiet we were less visible, less vulnerable.
 

I'd driven this route to the University hundreds of times, so much that lane changing felt automatic. When I started college, UTEP was my first step to forming my own life. Margie helped me select some of my courses and had insisted I take self-defense courses in my extra curriculum. Initially, I had scoffed, but after a month of learning how to slip out of holds and put someone in a hand lock, I felt something I hadn't ever since my mother's accident. I felt safe. I took a more advanced class, and soon was helping out giving volunteer classes off campus that my instructor had set up as his "pay it forward" gift.

As we exited the freeway the campus rose from the foothills. The red tile roofs and squared off buildings were eye-catching from miles away. Designed to mimic Bhutanese architecture, the buildings on campus looked more like a hybrid of pueblos and haciendas, albeit on a giant scale. The creamy stucco blended into the desert surroundings seamlessly. Somehow the monastic style created for the sides of the Himalayans looked right at home on the desert rock that formed the Franklins.

"Why are we coming here?" Antonia asked as we turned into the parking lot. We'd talked earlier about coming to the library, to meet with the graduate student maybe get some time on the internet.
 

"To see if we can find Theresa, remember?" I bit down on my impatience. Still it was strange she'd forget from this morning when we'd discussed it. Her memory was usually better than that. Not a whole lot, granted.

"Right, right," she said. "And computers, right? We need a computer?" Her brow furrowed in concentration and she suddenly looked very fragile.
 

"Right. Do you have your ID?" I asked. Since she came in for memory work with students, the University gave her a student ID. It would let us access the library's computers. I'd been cut off from computers ever since the accident since the cell phone I had was just a cheap flip phone.
 

I hoped some research would help me get some sort of handle on what we were dealing with. Besides the campus library sounded safe. If nothing else we could research escape routes, phone numbers, names, anything that might help.

Antonia dug through her purse, found her wallet and pulled out an orange ID. "Got it," she grinned, looking at me earnestly.

I felt the old exhaustion that had been gone for a few months. It was exhausting praising her tiny victories, the little things she'd remember, the small, infinitely small steps she'd make in her memory only to slip back two days later to having to be reminded where her hairbrushes were or how to activate her toothbrush.
 

There were days I couldn't do it and I'd slip out before her day began, driving to the University while the stars still lingered on the far horizon. I'd forget about her for a while.
 

It never seemed ironic until now.

I took the card. "Perfect. Let's go."

The last person on my mother's list was the graduate student, Theresa. I hoped she had in her possession some sort of Rosetta Stone that would decipher all of these envelopes, or give us something to link them together. My mother was smart; it didn't make sense that she'd have left all of this for safe keeping, and not give anyone a key to understanding it.
 

As we walked toward the library I thought of the note and the business card for someone named Robert. I needed to find out who he was and what he knew about all of this.

As for the graduate student, Theresa, we hadn't been able to reach her. I'd left messages but never heard back. I finally texted her, hoping maybe she'd answer. I could only hope that Eliah hadn't gotten to her first.
 

We'd just sat down to a computer when my phone vibrated in my pocket indicating a new text message. It was from Theresa. She apologized, she had been busy, but could meet us in the next five minutes at the student union.
 

Antonia sighed. "Maybe we should meet her later."

I knew all this jumping from one thing to another was disruptive for her. But I couldn't risk us losing this last envelope. "It'll only take a minute, I'm sure."

She hesitated, her brows knitting together as she got up from her chair.
 

"Is everything okay?" I asked, pulling my backpack onto my shoulder.

She glanced over her shoulder, then shrugged. "I'm probably still shook up from the credit union, I guess. Let's go."

We walked over to the union, and I pointed out all the buildings where I'd taken classes. She pointed out the building that had a small gun range in it.
 

"I was a marksman in college, did you know that? It's in my notes." She looked wistful. "I have trouble getting your Abuela to take me to the range, even though I ask. I think she's scared I'll shoot her."

"Really?" I said, surprised. "I took marksmanship too."

"No kidding?" She laughed and her face brightening. "Wow! Like mother, like daughter."

I had to admit, we looked like the typical mother-daughter touring campus, and for a second I wondered what it would have been like to have the other Antonia, my mom, here. Sure, she wasn't always the nicest of people, but she was the woman who could run circles around plenty of professors here. Would she have been teaching classes here once she finished her thesis? If it weren't for the story I was trying to unravel, would she still have her mind, her memories?

Did someone try to kill her that day? Or was it an accident all along and Antonia was looking for a reason for all of this. I could have believed she was paranoid about her accident, that it was a symptomatic echo of her long absence from the present.
 

Except for the fire. Except for the attack in San Elizario. Except for Eliah. My stomach tightened.

Theresa was sitting in the corner of the union, glancing around the crowd. She had mentioned she'd be wearing a maroon top, and she was easy to spot. She had blonde highlights growing out of a dark crown of wavy hair and was as thin as a coffee straw. We waved and headed over.

"I'm sorry I was so hard to reach," she said, pulling a bulging navy messenger bag onto her lap. She smiled, chatty and bubbly. "My phone broke, and I got it back today. Cost almost a hundred bucks to fix. Then they wiped out everything and I didn't even have my messages. If you hadn't texted me, I would never have even known you'd called."

The words poured out of her in a torrent and her smile was thin. "It's fine, we really appreciate this," I said.

Antonia touched my arm. "I'm going to stop at the ladies room, Kati. I'll be right back."

"What?" I was about to ask her to wait, but it seemed silly. The sick feeling in my stomach came back. "Um, okay, I guess. I'll be right here. Come right back, okay?"

She nodded then walked off. When I turned back to Theresa, she looked at me like I was a lunatic.
Whatever.
 

"So you need the envelope Professor Gray left for your mom?" Theresa flipped open her navy bag.
 

I nodded and fighting the urge to watch Antonia head for the back of the student union where the restrooms were.
 

"Right," I said. "The envelope. Did you bring it?"

"Sure did," she said, looking through her bag. "It must be pretty important. He left me a note about it and everything." She pulled out a white padded envelope, silver bangles clinked on her tiny wrist as she handed it to me. "Do you know what's in there?"

"No." I took the envelope from her and shoved it in my bag. She looked disappointed. "Is the professor still around?" I asked.

She shook her head. "He's been gone ever since he left the note. Some conference in Guadalajara. Should be back this Friday. It's finals in three weeks. I can do most of the class, but he likes to do the wrap-up." She stood up. "Sorry to run, I have to prep for my 1:00."

"No problem," I said. I got up, feeling uneasy. Glancing around, there was no sign of Antonia. I decided to head to the restroom to find her, my anxiety rising like a rocket.
Damn it.
I shouldn't have let her go without me. But it was just the restroom.
 

I burst through the door, nearly running into two girls in matching t-shirts that said Club Zero. "Antonia?" I called out. There was no answer. I checked each stall. Nothing.

The sick feeling in my stomach grew, my throat felt as if I was breathing through wool. "Antonia!" I called louder, pushing out of the bathroom and into the crowd. "Antonia!"

I searched the student union for over two hours. I'd climbed the stairs a half dozen times and even searched the aisles of the bookstore across the street. I'd been back and forth to the parking lot twice, had even left a note for her on the truck in case I missed her. By the time I sat down in the truck, my hands were shaking.
 

I stared at the phone. The only person I could think of calling was the last person I wanted to talk to.
 

I dialed Abuela.
 

"You LOST her?"
 

"I'm sure she wandered off, and she might call you or..."

"You LOST your MOTHER?" Her voice was shrill, and I held the phone away from my ear a couple of inches. "Kati! It's bad enough that she got you mixed up in all this. And now she's gone? You stay right there. I need to call the police."

"No! No," I said, remembering Calerdon's admonishments about the police, but I couldn't very well tell her that. "It's just that... You know, they won't do anything for 24 hours—or longer."
 

I flipped through the envelopes, found the one from the credit union. I frantically pulled out the card for Alacon, the private investigator.
 

"I have someone I can call. Someone who searches for missing persons. He can get things rolling."

"Are you sure?" She sounded skeptical.
 

No, of course not.
"Absolutely." I bit my lip. As long as Alacon was still in Las Cruces at this twelve-year-old phone number.

"Fine. I finally have your number now on the caller-ID. I'll call you," she said, her voice curt. "If you haven't found her by tonight, I'm calling the police, Kati."

When we hung up, I wondered why she hadn't called them already.

Alacon's card was simple, the font small and concise centered on the card. The phone rang once and the voice that answered was a woman's voice, high and rushed. "Willie."

"Um, is this Willie Alacon?"

"Yeah. Who is this?" Her voice had a trace of a midwestern accent.

"My name is Kati Perez. My mother is..."

"I know who your mother is." Alacon interrupted. Her voice quieted. "Where are you?"

Trust no one.

When I hesitated, I heard a sigh on the other end of the line.

"Fine. Don't tell me. If you've got nothing to say, then I'll get back to work."

"No," I said, feeling the panic rise again through my confusion. "It's just been... Never mind. I'm near campus."

"Good. Meet me at the Whataburger on Montana. Be there in thirty minutes."

My mind raced. "Wait, how will I know you?"

She laughed. "Girl, you can't miss me. I'll be the best-dressed guerra in the joint." The line went dead.

I put on my dark sunglasses, started the truck and put it in gear, heading east. And for the first time since my mother woke up, I let the tears slip down my face.

Chapter 19

When I was little, before the accident, I used to beg to go to Whataburger on Sundays. Sundays were our "cheat day" my mother said. During the week, it was all healthy food with a balance of vegetables and grains, a splash of dairy in the morning, juice at night. Back then I hadn't been allowed a soda during the week—until Abuela moved in and all the food rules went out the window.

On those Sundays, I got to pick where we "cheated," and I wasn't allowed to pick the same place more than twice a month. Whataburger was my go-to place. I didn't know if this was something my mother had told Alacon, or if it was one of those small town coincidences. Either way it felt strange to pull into the triangle shaped building with the giant W outside.
 

I checked my face in the rearview mirror to make sure the traces of my meltdown were gone. Bruises still yellowed my face and my eyes were a little puffy.
 

I put on my convenience store sunglasses. Much better.

Shouldering my backpack, I walked in and ordered a giant sweet tea. The place was nearly deserted. A woman stared out a window while her child tossed french fries in the air. In the corner, were two big men eating the largest burgers I'd ever seen, swallowing them as if they were sliders. I picked a table where I could watch the door. I'd finished about a quarter of my tea when Alacon walked in.