The Butterfly’s Daughter (12 page)

Unfortunately, the repairs didn't help the car's speed any. The car roared but advanced slowly along the side street.

“That's okay, El Toro,” she said, patting the dashboard affectionately. “ ‘Slow but sure' works for me. I'll make you a deal. I'll fill you with fuel and promise not to push you too hard if you promise not to break down again. Okay?”

That night Luz was awakened by the ringing of her cell phone. She rose up on her elbows and looked around the darkened room, disoriented. Her phone rang again, and waking more, she lurched across the bed to grab it from the nightstand, thinking it was Sully.

“Hello?”

“Luz?” The voice was muted and high-pitched. “Sorry to bother you. But I had no one else to call!”

“Ofelia?”

“Yes. Can you come get me? Please.”

“Now?”

“Yes . . . wait!” she said in a panicked whisper. There was a pause, during which Luz sat bolt upright, tossing back her covers. Her heart pounded and the adrenaline awoke her fully. She sat clutching the phone, tense and in the ready.

“Please come,” Ofelia said in a hoarse whisper. “I'll meet you downstairs. Don't ring the bell. Hurry!”

“I'll be right there.”

Luz flicked on the bedside lamp. Jeans, a clean T-shirt, and her jacket were draped over the chair. She dressed quickly. While sticking her feet into her boots she glanced at the small alarm clock
by the bed. It was nearly three in the morning. What could be wrong with Ofelia? she wondered as she grabbed her suitcase and the box of ashes. Everyone was sleeping so Luz tiptoed down the stairs, leaving an envelope filled with money and a note to Suzanne on her desk. By the time she reached the front door, she knew. She closed the door quietly behind her.

Outside, the city was asleep. The air hung cold and dank in a fog. Luz knew it was dangerous to be out alone at this time of the night in this part of the city. She shivered and zipped up her jacket while eyeing the street. The traffic light turned green and two cars passed. The sedan slowed in front of her building. From the corner of her eye she spied a male driver checking her out, music slamming against his closed windows and plumes of smoke covering his face. Luz hunched her shoulders, put her keys between her knuckles like someone once told her to do for self-defense, and began walking purposefully toward her car farther down the block.

She climbed in and couldn't lock the doors fast enough. Looking up, she noticed the same sedan passing by again. El Toro sprang to life and she drove off. When she reached Ofelia's apartment she double-parked in front, then leaned across the seat to peer through the side window. A moment later, a door opened and Ofelia emerged wearing a flamboyant, vintage emerald green satin coat and dragging a small carry-on bag. There was something about the way she was hunched over and gripping the railing that propelled Luz to sprint from the car to help her. As she approached, Ofelia looked up.

In the yellow light of the building's light fixture, Luz saw Ofelia's face and gasped. Ofelia's left eye was a slit in her swollen face and her lip was split. She grabbed Ofelia's arm.

“That son of a bitch.”

“Come on, let's just go!” Ofelia urged, breathless and in a garbled whisper. She continued plowing down the stairs in a single-minded focus, one labored step after the other.

When they got to the car, Luz rushed to open the door. “Give me your suitcase.”

Ofelia handed it to Luz, then stiffened and swung her head to look in a panic behind her. “Wait! Where's Serena?”

“Who?”

“
My dog!
Oh,
Dios,
” she cried. “She was right behind me! I've got to go get her!” She turned and began walking slowly up the stairs.

Luz grabbed her arm. “What are you doing? You can't go back up there. Let's get out of here!”

Ofelia jerked her arm away. “Lemme go! She's in the hall. I just gotta open the door.”

“Where's Angel?”

“Passed out. But when he wakes up, he'll kill her. I know he will. For spite.”

Luz silently groaned. “
Okay
! I'll get your dog.” But she was terrified of going into that building with Angel in there. “Are you sure he's passed out?”

“Yes! The dog is just inside. Here.” She plunged into a pocket of the voluminous coat and dragged out the key chain. It clanged noisily in the quiet night.

Luz grabbed it, wrapping her fingers tight around it to silence the keys. “Just leave the suitcase and get in the car. I'll be right back.” She started off but then spun on her heel. “What kind of a dog is it?”

“A Chihuahua. She won't bite.”

“Oh, good,” she said faintly. At least it's not a pit bull, Luz
thought as she went up the stairs. She unlocked the door and opened it slowly, expecting the dog to charge out. Or worse, Angel. But the front entry was empty. Luz opened the door wider, squinting in the dark foyer. What was that dog's name? Was it Sally? She pursed her lips and made soft smacking noises.

“Here, Sally,” she said softly. “Here, girl.”

She heard soft growling farther up in the darkness. She moved to enter the unlit hall. It was dank and smelled of cooking grease. She took another step and heard the soft whoosh and click of the door closing behind her. Instantly, she was plunged into darkness.

Her heart began pounding. “Sally, come!” she called in a stage whisper. The sound of nails click-clacking up the stairs made her grind her teeth in frustration. Luz gripped the railing and stumbled up the stairs like a blind woman. The higher she climbed, the louder the growls grew. When she reached the third floor she spied something huddled in front of an apartment door.

“Come here, Sally. It's okay, I won't hurt you, you little rat,” Luz said as sweetly as she could. But the Chihuahua wanted nothing to do with her. She cowered against the door, lifting one paw and showing her teeth, growling louder. Luz took a step closer.

It was too much for the frantic dog. It erupted in high-pitched, relentless yaps. Luz froze in a panic. Angel would have to be dead not to hear it. Sure enough, a loud crash sounded from inside the apartment, like a chair falling back on the floor.

“That's it.” Luz lurched forward to grab hold of the dog with one hand and grip the railing with the other. She took off down the stairs as fast as she could. Her heels reverberated in the narrow hall but she was beyond caring. As she reached the bottom landing she heard Angel's voice shouting in a sleepy slur from above, “Who's there? Ofelia?”

Luz pushed through the front door as the dog wriggled in her arms to escape. With her free hand she grabbed Ofelia's suitcase and raced toward the car. Ofelia opened her door and Luz tossed the dog into her lap, then slammed the door shut. She ran to the trunk, jerked it open, and crammed Ofelia's carry-on into the cramped space, pounding on it to push it in.

Suddenly the building door swung open. Angel lurched out and stood with his arms wide, rocking on his heels and staring at her in drunken confusion, weaving from left to right as he tried to figure out who she was. Then he spotted Ofelia in the car.

“Hey!” he bellowed. “Where the hell do you think you're going? Get outta that car.” He took a step down. The front door slammed shut behind him, angering him more. He raised his fist. “Don't make me come down there and drag you out.”

“Start the car. Start the car!” Ofelia cried in terror.

Luz clenched her jaw, grabbed the tire iron, and swung it high into the air. “You stay away!” Fury tore at her throat. “Do you hear me? Don't go near her again or I'll call the cops!”

Angel drew back. He staggered, lost his balance, and then fell back on the stairs.

Luz slammed the trunk shut and ran to open her car door and jump in. She tossed the tire iron in the backseat. Her hands were shaking so badly she had a hard time getting the keys from her jeans pocket and into the ignition. Next to her, Ofelia was clutching the shivering dog in her lap. Her eyes were trained on the man struggling to his feet.

“Hurry! Lock the car!” Ofelia said.

Luz turned the key in the engine. The engine cranked but didn't fire.

“No, no, not now!” She tried again. The engine strained again, weaker. Angel was coming down the stairs, yelling in Spanish.

“Go, go, go . . .” Ofelia careened, rocking back and forth.

Luz pumped the gas pedal twice, her hands tightly gripping the wheel. She nearly jumped from her skin when a loud thump pounded on the roof.

Luz jerked her head around and saw the hulking figure of a man at the door, his muscles bulging as he tugged at the handle while viciously hammering the roof and shouting obscenities in a drunken slur. The little dog went crazy, barking and jumping from Ofelia's lap to the floor and back. Ofelia was screaming at him in Spanish.

Time stood still while Luz thought, Is this how my journey will end? Beaten up by some drunken asshole? “Hell, no!” she said, and gripped the keys again. She pumped the gas pedal and turned the ignition. “C'mon, c'mon . . .” She never heard a sweeter sound than the roar of the engine at that moment and swore her devotion to El Toro forever. She rammed the gear into place and took off with Angel still gripping the door handle. Next to her, Ofelia was hysterically screaming, “
¿Sabes qué? ¡Ya me voy!
”

Halfway down the street, Luz glanced at the rearview mirror. Angel was flapping his arms like a bird about to take flight as he fought for balance, before he fell, face-first, onto the street.

A victorious grin creased Luz's face as she spun around the corner.

Migrating monarchs journey throughout their extensive breeding range. However, over half of the monarchs breed in the corn belt of the Midwest. Thus, most years, large numbers of butterflies can be seen migrating through that region in the fall.

D
awn tore at the seam of night, pulling the blackness back a little farther with each passing minute. Luz had left the sharp and jagged cityscape behind and drove through a seemingly endless tunnel of darkness, the only light a cold glare from the highway cobra fixtures and the narrow beams of her car.

She cranked open her window and let the moist freshness of morning air roll over her, reviving her senses. Her hair fluttered behind her like a flag. She released a long sigh, the kind that came from deep within and completely emptied her lungs. Bad air out, good air in, she thought, then ran her fingers through her hair, scratching her scalp vigorously. Lowering her hand, she held it before her eyes. She'd been driving for over two hours and her hands had only just stopped shaking.

What a night, she thought. She still couldn't believe all that had happened. It felt like it was all some horrible nightmare. Or perhaps she was in shock, the suspension of natural reactions after trauma. She had to confess it was nice to have some company as
she drove these long, lonely miles. But never when she planned her trip did she include a woman in her eighth month of pregnancy. It was crazy to take Ofelia along, but what choice did she have? She shook her head. “Well, Abuela, this certainly wasn't part of our plan.”

After they'd escaped Angel, she had driven directly to Las Damas and double-parked in front, thinking Ofelia would want to stay there. When the car stopped Ofelia jerked up and looked wildly out the window, searching the street as though expecting to see Angel come roaring down.

“We can't stay here,” she said in hysteria. “He's
loco.
He's got a gun. He told me he'd use it if I left him. And he will. I know he will!”

Luz felt the fear tightening her chest again. “You'll be safe here. Suzanne won't let him in.”

“No! It's the first place he'll come. He's probably on his way now.”

Luz froze in indecision.

“Luz, please,” Ofelia shouted. “Get us out of here!”

“I'll take you to the police,” Luz said, and shifted into gear.

“Police can't do shit. He has to shoot me first.” Ofelia wiped her eyes and pulled her dog closer to her chest.

Luz glanced nervously at Ofelia, then took off down the street, not sure where she was headed. Her only goal at the moment was to get as far from Angel as possible. “Do you know a shelter nearby?”

“That's no good either.”

“Ofelia . . .”

“No, listen,” she said in an urgent whisper. “A woman I knew came here from Florida. Her husband was beating her, real bad. But when he pulled a knife, she ran. She went to a shelter. I don't
know how he found out she was in Chicago but one day she was walking home from work and this car pulled up and it was him. He dragged her screaming into the car and nobody stopped him. They found her body a week later in some ditch. Nobody did nothing.” She sniffed and looked back out the window. “Sometimes, a girl just disappears forever.”

Luz wiped her damp palms on her jeans. “Where can I take you?”

“Take me with you!”

“To Texas?” she blurted in disbelief.

“Yes! He won't follow me there.”

“But . . . you don't know anyone. And what about your job? Mr. Cordero?”

“No job is worth my life, and he can't protect me. Nobody can. I'll call him. He'll understand. It's not safe here and I got nowhere else to go!”

“But . . .” Luz swallowed thickly. “What if you have the baby?”

“I'm not due for another month,” Ofelia rushed to say.

“You'd need your passport.”

“I have it. I stuffed it in before I left.” She bent over to get her purse, dug through it for a moment, then pulled out her passport. “And I have money. Look.” Ofelia opened an envelope to show a thick wad of bills. “It's almost five hundred dollars. I hid it. Just in case.”

Luz couldn't speak. Common sense warred with her emotions. This was crazy. It wasn't part of her plan. Then Luz imagined Ofelia so afraid that she was sneaking money, some clothes, her passport, hiding them from Angel in her apartment, just in case she had to flee.