Without Borders (22 page)

He shrugged, staring at the flickering fire. “Like with Marisol. At first it was this crazy, primal, sexual thing, but now…” His voice faded as they both watched Marisol sing and dance with a boy in the front row. Even though he looked to be all of ten years old, Annie could tell he was smitten with her friend. Almost as much as the blond, ex-reality star sitting beside her.

“I’m trying not to think about it.” Annie ignored the lump in her throat. She rocked Rosa, wondering if she should tell Phillip about Marisol’s parade of admirers. Wondering if she should tell him not to count on a relationship with her friend. As far as Annie knew, Marisol’s longest actual relationship had lasted three months. And it only lasted that long because her boyfriend had mono and was absent from school for two-thirds of their relationship.

Felipe bent over the guitar. He mouthed the words as he played, and the way his fingers worked the strings made Annie flush. Before long she wasn’t thinking about home or leaving or Marisol.

The music died out as the fire dwindled and the villagers drifted home. Soon, the only remaining guest was Rosa, out cold against Annie’s chest. Their host gestured toward the girl and shook his head, muttering.

“Sorry, what? I mean,
no entiendo
,” Annie said.

“Rosa’s parents live across the street.” The guitar strap still hung over Felipe’s shoulder as he sat. “He will take her home.”

The girl’s little brown fingers curled under her chin. “Can I take her home?” Annie asked.

A deep wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows. “They are not kind people, Annie.”

“I’ll be okay.” She stood and shifted the girl’s weight to her hip. Rosa stirred and her eyelids fluttered, but she settled back into sleep. “You can come with me?” Annie pulled in her lips, hoping he read the words between her words.
And we can sneak into the woods to make out.

“Ah,
sí
.” He lifted an eyebrow and pulled the guitar strap over his head. “
Vamos
.” He put a hand on the small of her back and led her down a windy path between the houses.

His flashlight illuminated the ground in front of them, and Annie’s entire body hummed with his touch. Charged silence stretched between them, and her eyes kept drifting to his profile—his high cheekbones and the slope of his nose, a touch too long for his otherwise perfect face. And for once, she completely understood Marisol’s live-in-the-moment, let’s-get-drunk-and-get-it-on life philosophy. Because all Annie could think about was sneaking into the woods and ripping off Felipe’s clothes.

“It is this one,” he said when they reached a slight, narrow house at the end of the path.

He shined a flashlight in a darkened window, and before they could knock, the door swung open. A woman scowled at them, her face hard and streaked with lines. The blue fabric of her long dress shifted in the night breeze. Behind her, a disheveled man in a red t-shirt and briefs stumbled into view, a scuffed bottle in hand. He gave them all a toothless smile and slid into one of the chairs. Eyelids drooping, he called out, but his words were so slurred, Annie was certain she wouldn’t understand them even if they’d been in perfect English.

“
Buenas
,” Annie said, her heart stuttering. “
¿Su hija?
”

The woman pulled Rosa away and slammed the door, never uttering a word.

Annie’s arms hung slack at her sides. She wondered how many of her belongings would need to stay behind to smuggle the girl home inside her suitcase.

Felipe slipped his hand in hers and tugged. “Come.”

She took a deep breath and nodded, but a loud thwack rooted her feet to the ground. Rosa’s wail sent Annie’s stomach plummeting to her knees. Another thwack.

She thumped on the door with the heel of her hand. “Hey. Hey!”

Another thwack, louder this time. A hand clamped on her arm and pulled her away from the door. She swung around to Felipe. “What are you doing? Aren’t you hearing this?” Her blood rushed by her ears.

“Annie, we need to go.”

“You’re kidding, right?” She turned away and pounded again.

He held her close, pinning her arms at her sides. “This isn’t helping,” he whispered.

She struggled, spinning to face him. “You need to call the police.”

“Annie, there are no police here.”

The door swung open, and Rosa’s father lumbered out to them, slurring.”

Annie shook as she stepped around him, stumbling into the house. She had to find Rosa. Had to. She wouldn’t leave until she pried the sweet little girl from this poor excuse of a family. Anger built in a hard ball inside of her, growing so fast and so large it splintered and worked its way into every muscle.

Rosa lay on the floor. Silent sobs shook her petite body as a hand-shaped welt swelled on her cheek. Annie pushed past the girl’s mother and swung Rosa over her hip. “Let’s go.” She expected Felipe to appear at her side and usher them away from these sick sons of bitches.

He pried the girl from her hands. “Annie, you cannot do this.”

Rosa’s father bumbled toward them, shouting and slurring and spitting curse words even Annie recognized.

Felipe set Rosa in front of the man and lifted his palms. “Annie, get out of here.”

She glanced over her shoulder. Rosa’s mother sat on the floor, her blue dress fanning out around her. Annie wasn’t certain how the woman had ended up there—if Annie had pushed her to the floor in desperation to pick up Rosa or if she’d collapsed there amidst the chaos. But now she stared at the ceiling, silent.

Rosa scrambled over to the woman and buried her snot-streaked face in her mother’s chest. The woman made no effort to comfort the child, and hot tears spilled down Annie’s cheeks, leaking her fury and confusion and sadness across her face.

“Annie, I said to leave.” Felipe’s words came between clenched teeth.

“Are you serious right now?” She threw her hands up and wiped her nose on the hem of her shirt, trying to keep her voice from sprinting into hysterics.

“Leave.”

• • •

Felipe heard the thunk of the man’s fist smashing his shoulder before he felt it. Everything was numbed by his anger. He stumbled but gathered himself up, shoving the drunk’s chest. The man was so
borracho
it took nothing to tip him over.

He stormed toward the door, but Rosa’s cry was still fresh in his mind, and the things the man had threatened to do to Annie had him in a rage. He spun and snarled in the doorway. “You are disgusting,” he spat in jagged Spanish. Outside, he jogged through the dark as a streak of lightning sliced through the sky. He whipped his flashlight from side to side, scouring the area for Annie’s outline. But she was nowhere.

Please be at the house.

He moved faster, sprinting and looking over his shoulder every few steps. Once, he was certain the drunk was following him, but when he wheeled his flashlight around, there was nothing. He made it to the cooling bonfire, and Annie’s hiccups and whimpers rang out as she told the story to Marisol and Juan.

“They’re horrible. And we left her there. Left her!”

“It is okay. Shhh.” Marisol stared at him, her eyes searing holes into his. “You are okay?” she mouthed.

Felipe nodded and slumped over, wheezing and shaking as the adrenaline left his body. He’d gotten so caught up in Annie that his common sense had disappeared. He should have known better than to let her go to that house. Known better than to ignore their host’s warnings. And now they were all paying the price.

The shuffling of feet on damp earth sent him jolting upright, muscles wound tight and heart thudding in his ears. Someone clicked on a flashlight.

Rosa’s father stood where the yard met the trail, leering. The light reflected off the spittle on his chin, and in his left hand he clutched a broken bottle.

Felipe’s voice cracked. “Inside.
Dentro
.” He tried not to show his fear as Marisol ushered Annie and Phillip inside the hut.

Juan stood next to Felipe, and they watched as the man took one step toward them. Juan pulled out his machete, and the drunk tripped over his own bare feet. The girl’s father scrambled backward, slicing his palm on the bottle. It took two tries before he made it up on swaying legs, the bloody shard of glass forgotten on the ground. The man spat and sneered, then turned toward home as if nothing had ever happened.

“We will leave in the morning,” Juan said, tucking the long knife into the holster at his hip. “Sunrise.”

Felipe nodded. Both men turned toward the house, but the tumbling rush of footsteps came again. The child’s father lurched forward, running and falling, running and falling until he was within striking distance. He swatted and swung, and Juan put his hand on the machete. Felipe’s legs and arms were heavy and slow, but he worked his way to the left, drawing the furious
borracho
away from the house.

The door swung open, and Marisol stepped out. Marco’s confiscated rifle trembled in her hands. “Leave us. Leave us!” Each time she repeated the phrase, her words filled with more fervor.

The lush raised his hands and stumbled backward, catching himself a moment before he tumbled into the remains of the fire. Cursing and spitting, he threw the first thing he found into the dying flames before bumbling off into the night.

Felipe ran to the fire and tried to rescue the sex ed supplies, but with new fuel, the fire grew, engulfing it all. The fuzzy uterus shriveled and turned to ash as the furious orange flames lapped at his feet. He raised his eyes from the fire to find a gathering crowd.

“Do not ever come back!”

“You are a disgrace!”

“Please do not go. My baby is sick!”

Shouts came from all sides. The mass of people closed in around them, turning the air hot and furious. Felipe grabbed the supply bags, tossed a few to Juan, and they jogged into the hut with Marisol. Their host shoved a heavy log against the door.

Phillip blinded Felipe with a flashlight, and chaos erupted. Felipe cursed and dropped the bags. Marisol forced Phillip’s light to the ground, and eventually the shouts from outside faded. In the corner, Annie sat with her arms folded across her chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stopping his shaking legs a few feet in front of her.

She shook her head, mouth set in a firm line. “This fucking place…”

Felipe sank against the wall, drowning in his emotions.

“How could you do that?” Annie’s voice was small, but her words were pointed.

Half his mind remained outside, processing the villagers’ irate shouts. “
¿Qué?
”

“Send her back to those people. How can you send a child back to…to a monster? Like you didn’t even think it was wrong. Like, no problem, here in Nicaragua it’s okay to beat your kids.”

“Are you serious?” Felipe’s fury threatened to erupt. He’d put Annie in danger. He’d put the entire brigade in danger, taking her to that house. And he could tolerate her being angry with him for that. But this—

“Yes.”

“What do you want me to do?” He stood, his fists tight at his sides.

Marisol grabbed the flashlight and made her way over to them. The yellow light illuminated Annie’s red-rimmed eyes and the fat, ugly tears streaking her cheeks.

“’Lipe.” Marisol tugged at his arm. “
Ven
. Not now.”

“You want me to kidnap her? Kidnap every child here who has awful parents? Sorry, Annie. That is not going to happen.” He shook off his sister’s grip. “And Rosa. You made things worse for her. Do you think her dad went home and said, ‘Oh, I am so sorry now because the American girl showed me the error of my ways?’”

“Felipe, shhh.” Marisol pulled at him again.

“You handed her off to those people and walked away.” Annie smacked a hand against the dirt floor. “You knew what would happen, and you took her home anyway. How sick is that?”

“Do you know how many nights I had to sit around this fire playing the damn guitar before they would let us vaccinate their
niños
? Do you have any idea how many times we came out here only to have every person in the village ignore us?” The words ran out of his mouth, piling up in the space between them, pushing them further apart.

“So that makes it okay to let someone beat the shit out of a little girl?”

“No. How can you say that?” He started to walk away but flung himself around after a few steps. “Being a good doctor means making hard choices, Annie. Maybe one day you will see.” He took a deep breath, thinking of her bright future, probably working in the best hospitals in America. Never wanting for supplies or equipment or money. “But maybe not.”

Annie’s face crumbled then went slack. For a second he regretted every word. Her hands trembled as she pulled at the ends of her hair. “I want to go home.” She raised her eyes, furious tears working their way down her face. “I’m not staying here.”

Marisol pushed him off into another corner before he could spit out a response.

Juan stepped in front of him, cutting off Felipe’s view of Annie. “What now?” Juan asked.

Their host jabbed a finger at Felipe’s chest. “You must go. Once the people are gone. I cannot have these risks. I have family.”

When they were certain the last of the angry mob had retreated for the night, Felipe loaded his aching body with bags and led the group down the path. Juan and the rifle took the rear, and no one said a word as they slipped out of the village in the darkness.

Annie pulled out her journal, and her shoulders slumped over the blank page.
Brown is never going to happen anyway
.
Not now.
She shoved the cap between her clenched jaws as she pressed her pen to the page. The tip tore through the edge of the paper and still she pushed harder, letting the ink bleed through to the next page.

Day 19: Get me the hell out of this place
.

“Are you okay,
mi Anita
?” Marisol stood over her. Dark circles ringed her eyes.

“Mari, I really need to go home.”

“I do not understand.”

“I
need
to go home. I can’t stay here and do this. I can’t…I can’t.” Annie bore down on the words, forcing them out with less hysteria than she felt.