Unlimited (15 page)

“Only because you make it so.”

“Is that why you called, to make me impatient with myself?”

“Partly, yes, of course, if it will make you decide any quicker. But mostly no, it is not why I called. My mother is coming to Juárez. She is attending a gala event where I am speaking. She asks if you will join us.”

Sofia had met Enrique's mother. Three times. “She asked for me? Really?”

“Well, no. Not exactly. She asked if you were coming. She
hoped
you would be there.”

“Enrique, your mother wants you to marry that rich lady from Mexico City.”

He was silent.

“I saw the photo of you two. Your mother had the society magazine open to the page the last time we met. She wanted to be sure I saw it. You two looked very nice together.”

Enrique sighed. “My mother is very old school.”

“She loathes the ground I walk on.”

“She does not hate you. She . . .”

“She thinks you would be better with the society lady on your arm. What do the Americans call it? Eye candy.”

“The event in Juárez is in four days. Say yes.”

She did not need to check her calendar. “In four days I have appointments at the clinics in Potrero del Llano and El Mangle. I am meeting with the doctors and bidding on the new clinic. I want to supply everything, and I think they might—”

“Oh, very well. I suppose I'll just have to call the eye candy in Mexico City.”

“Don't you dare.”

“She meant nothing, that one. She is the daughter of my father's oldest friend.”

“You have told me all this before. Where are you today?”

“A fund-raiser Chihuahua City, then I dedicate a new dam. Then a city council meeting that will go very late. I will miss seeing you.”

Sofia saw her brother's truck pull up in front of the shop. “Pedro has just arrived.”

“Let me have a word with him, please. And Sofia, think hard about what I have said, please. Think very hard.”

Pedro considered himself a keen observer. It was a talent, like his singing, something that held a special significance to very few. But it helped him immensely. Enrique claimed it made him indispensable. The mayor tended to exaggerate sometimes, which was a failure of most politicians Pedro had met. But in this instance, he had the impression that Enrique meant what he said.

Pedro knew the instant he stepped through the office doors that his sister was on the phone with Enrique. He saw the tight slant to her gaze, the way she studied the sunlight on the glass, as though drilling for faults that Pedro did not believe were there.

Enrique had proven his worth a hundred times over since coming to office in Ojinaga. He had stood up for the people of Ojinaga when no one else had, not the police or the army or any former politician.

Pedro could not understand why his sister did not leap at the chance to marry Enrique. He worried that she might delay and fret until Enrique grew impatient and moved on. He had not felt more helpless since childhood. “I need a word with Enrique.”

She handed him the phone. “He has just said the same thing.”

Pedro exchanged greetings, then listened as Enrique sketched out several matters requiring urgent attention. Finally Pedro said, “
Padron
, there is a matter we need to discuss.”

“I should be back in my office by six.”

“This cannot wait. And you do not want to discuss this in your office.” Pedro described the trip to the professor's house. And the attack with the same hunter that had been after Simon.

When he was done, Enrique's good humor had been replaced by a weary grimness. “It was a bad idea, taking the American to the home of Vasquez.”

“With respect, I disagree.”

“You put yourself at risk. You endangered Señor Simon, when we already knew the bad ones sought him. You might have brought them back to the orphanage. How could this possibly have been a good idea?”

“Señor Simon said he could possibly make the apparatus work. But to do so, he needed information that only Vasquez had.”

“The police tell me the home has been thoroughly searched.”

“Simon found something the hunters missed.”

Enrique huffed in surprise. “How is this possible?”

Pedro described the globe Simon had recognized from Vasquez's MIT office. And the secret compartment that opened with the key Simon still carried around his neck. “Inside were the professor's Bible and two pages of data. Simon tells me the information could prove vital.”

“Perhaps we should move the American somewhere else.”

“Harold wants him to stay at the orphanage.”

Enrique let out a loud sigh. “We must ensure the children's safety.”

Pedro relaxed. This was what he had been after all along. For Enrique to take responsibility for the orphanage's protection.

Enrique asked, “You truly think the American can accomplish what the professor could not?”

“Vasquez was certain of this. Harold thinks the same.”

“I will make the necessary arrangements. For five days. Once he obtains his new passport . . . one way or the other, our world will go back to the way it was before he arrived.”

Pedro hung up the phone very softly. His sister's face had the pinched expression she wore before an explosion. “What were you thinking, taking Simon to Armando's home?”

Pedro remained silent. Any response was futile. As was any possible reason he might give.

But for once, the tirade did not begin. Instead Sofia closed her eyes. “Do you really think Simon is part of God's plan?”

He grinned. He could not help it. “Harold thinks so.”

“I asked what you think.”

His grin grew broader still. “I think the changes in this gringo have only just started. And when God has time to grow in him . . .”

A faint tremor touched his sister's voice. “Yes? What then?”

Pedro leaned across her desk and whispered, “Boom.”

That day Sofia had a long hard drive, and in two different directions. The two-lane desert highways were ribbed with constant repairs. In the mountains the steep inclines and sharp curves were rimmed by rusting guardrails or none at all. But there was little traffic, and Sofia knew the roads very well. Once she was through the mountains, she settled into a comfortable speed and cruised. Her thoughts made for noisy companions.

She did not reach any conclusion. But she had not expected to. So she prayed. Again. She had been praying about it daily since Enrique had asked her to get married. And as usual, there was no sense of guidance from above. All she knew was the same silence, as vast and nebulous as the desert that surrounded her.

It was dark when she finally parked in front of her apartment. She was too late for dinner at the orphanage, so she fixed a salad and ate it standing at the kitchen counter. She loved the counter. It was made of Mexican cedar, shaped and planed by hand and left unfinished. Every time she used it, she smelled a hint of the wood's fragrance, like a distillation of everything that was good and fine in her desert land.

After dinner, she walked across the square, greeting two of her neighbors who were minding their grandchildren and letting them run around a bit before putting them down for the night. She entered through the gates and stood there. She often did this at the end of a long day. She breathed the fragrances that had shaped her world as a child, the evening meal and the dust and the children and the same cleanser Harold had always used. She considered it as beautiful a bouquet as the cedar counter.

Her biggest goal in life was to be there for others. Just like Harold had been there for her. She wanted nothing more than to be that someone, at that point in time when they were most alone.

That was what drove her relationship with Enrique. He helped propel her to do greater things. He invited her to step forward and stand upon the national stage. Beside him.
With
him.

But she was troubled by the absence of love.

She told herself that many good marriages had begun on friendship and shared goals. And she was fond of Enrique. She really was. She often tried to tell herself that she loved him, at least a little.

But deep in her heart she yearned for more.

And yet . . . and yet, what right did she have, an orphan with no family and no name and no title, to ask for even this? Enrique was rich and powerful and destined for greatness. What was she doing dragging her feet and yearning like a child, seeking a love that might not even exist?

No matter how hard she prayed, no matter how many times she begged and pleaded for guidance, God remained silent.

Then she noticed something out of place.

She walked across the orphanage's courtyard. In front of the last classroom stood the front table. In the moonlight glinted bits and pieces of what looked like electronic devices. Just sitting there. Out in the open.

She realized none of the lights were working. Which was hardly unusual. They had been restricting power usage since the money became tight. But there was not even a lamp glowing in Harold's office. “The power company cut us off?”

“This afternoon.” Simon bustled out of the classroom. “And you are exactly what we need, another set of hands. Juan, give her the flashlight.”

“What are you doing?”

“Making solar lanterns.”

“But they don't work.”

“I'm pretty sure I solved the problem. Can you move over about three feet? No, the other way. Now bring the flashlight in, closer, okay, stop. Keep it steady. Juan, you got that piece?”

“Here, Señor Simon.”

“Great. Grab that wire. Okay, hold it steady while I solder, that's it. Good job.”

Juan's teeth flashed in the dim light. “You want the bulbs?”

“Where did I leave them?”

“The box is under the long table.”

“My man.” As Juan scampered into the classroom, Simon swept the hair from his forehead. The bandage glinted white in the light. “He's one amazing kid.”

“Why can this not wait until tomorrow?”

“Because—”

His reply was cut off by a thin wail. It was a tragic sound, a faint warbling of childhood woe. A broken heart unable to even shape a word.

Juan hurried back out. “Gabriella, she is starting again.”

“Yeah, I heard. Sofia, aim that light on my hands. Good. Okay, hold it steady, let's see if it fits.” There was an audible snap. “Bingo. Where's the housing?”

“Here, Señor Simon.”

There was a trio of further clicks, then, “Here goes.”

A soft light pushed back the dark, illuminating two tired and sweaty faces. Simon and Juan shared a huge grin. Simon said, “High-five. No, no, raise your hand. That's it.” They slapped palms.

Simon wiped the device with his shirttail and headed for the girl's dorm. “We've been charging the lantern batteries all afternoon while I worked on the circuitry. The lantern should glow now until daybreak.”

Juan explained, “Gabriella is afraid of the dark.”

Sofia followed Simon across the courtyard and up the stairs and across the veranda. Harold sat in a chair beside Gabriella's bed. A lone candle burned on the bedside table. He blew it out as Simon set down the lantern and asked the little girl, “Can you thank the gentleman?”

Gabriella looked so small, lying there. So beautiful. She was a fragile little bird with enormous dark eyes that darted from one adult to the next. Fearful. Alone even in the midst of all these people.

Harold said, “Simon and Juan have worked all day, just so you would not be afraid. You are surrounded by people who care very deeply for you. And who will do everything to keep you safe.”

He rose from the chair and motioned them out. Simon looked both exhausted and immensely pleased with himself.

Sofia stopped in the doorway and turned back. Gabriella still lay there, watching. Sofia walked back over and bent down and kissed the girl's forehead. “Sleep and do not dream.”

When she emerged from the dormitory, she found all three men waiting for her. Harold had one arm around Juan's shoulders, the other rested upon Simon's arm. As though he wanted her to see this act, and understand.

She needed to accept that Simon was becoming one of them.

Simon woke up to the pale wash of a new day. He carried a fragment of an idea with him as he rose and washed his face and dressed. He flipped the bathroom switch, and when the light did not come on, he slipped downstairs and across the courtyard and into the boy's dormitory. The beds were separated by chest-high wooden barriers, like stalls with their fronts open to the central aisle. He touched Juan's shoulder. The boy came instantly awake. Simon turned and walked back outside.

When the boy joined him, Simon asked, “Has the power come back on?”

“No, Señor Simon.”

“This can't be good.”

“Harold is worried about all the food stored in the freezers.”