Marjorie Thelen - The Hieroglyphic Staircase

She fell silent. He was right, but she didn’t want to admit it. What was happening here? Was she too defensive? Was he too protective and demanding?

She acquiesced. “All right. I’ll stay with my mother. It’s probably better. Then you can get some rest. We’re both exhausted and strung out.”

He pulled her into a gentle embrace.

“It’s not that I don’t want you around. I want you safe and healthy. Please try to understand, Elena.” His lips brushed her wounded cheek as if trying to heal the ugly bruise and smooth the tension between them.

“I do, really. I don’t mean to be difficult.” She sighed in resignation and looked around. “Did you happen to find my backpack?”

“Yes. I’ll get it for you, and your vest, too. They got wet, but everything should dry out. I’m not sure about your computer though.”

“Oh, no,” Elena said. She hadn’t thought about her computer getting wet. Where would she be if it didn’t work? Well, that was minor compared to what she had just been through.

He brought the backpack and vest. “I tried to hang them up so they’d drip dry. They’re still a little wet.”

“Thanks.” She took the damp offerings, slung the backpack over her shoulder, and fished in several of the vest pockets to see what might be salvageable. Her fingers encountered a cool, metal disc, and she pulled it from its hiding place.

“Look, Dominic,” she said, “the Saint Jude medal I found near the murder site. I forgot all about it. I was going to give it to the inspector.”

Dominic studied the shiny medal. “Good idea. It might be important. Now, doctora Palomares, why don’t I walk you over to the hotel?”

Elena spent two uneventful days at the hotel with Susanna. The road out of town remained flooded. Connie remained tied up with hurricane policing and cleanup. Dominic stopped by each day to see how she was and say hello, but the visits were short because he was busy with community cleanup. Miguel was ever by his side.

No planes or buses ran. Supplies were running low. Looting was becoming a serious issue. Her computer wasn’t working even after she had taken it totally apart, dried it out and reassembled it. The darn thing wouldn’t boot. Land lines and cell phones were still dead. By the afternoon of the second day, she had had enough of eating, sleeping, and listening to Susanna. Not that her mother hadn’t been all kindness and concern. The attention was nice, but Elena needed action.

She pulled on her field vest, determined to find Connie and give her the medal before she forgot again. On the way she’d visit Dominic and Miguel at the clinic.

The sound of banging hammers filled the air. Ripping noises added to the cacophony as a man in uniform pulled plywood from the windows of the small regional museum fronting on the central plaza. Hot, humid weather was back in earnest. The palm trees in the plaza had weathered the storm. Their fronds sparkled brilliant green in the bright light.

Elena’s bare shoulders soaked in the sun’s delicious rays. She straightened her back. She was going to see Dominic and Miguel and that put a smile in her eyes and on half her face.

The smile disappeared when she walked into the clinic. Felicia was talking to Dominic, standing way too close in Elena’s opinion. Had that woman never heard of turtlenecks? She was forever falling out of her dresses. Dominic didn’t see Elena approach, engrossed as he was in conversation or was it Felicia’s cleavage that interested him?

Miguel came running over as soon as he saw her. “ Hola, señorita Elena, it makes me happy to see you.”

She stooped to hug him. “It’s great to see you, little man. My, you look handsome. If my eyes don’t deceive me, I’d say you were gaining some weight, putting a little meat on those bones.”

He shrugged and smiled. “I have been helping Dominic. He says I am a good helper. I found my soccer ball here in the clinic, so I am very, very happy.”

She smiled and hugged him again. “I’m happy, too.”

“Guess what else?”

“What?”

“My friend Gordo, we found him. He is here.” He took her hand and pulled her along with him to the exam room in the back. “He spent the storm in a cement cellar. I am helping him clean up, and he will wear some of my clothes.”

Elena allowed herself to be tugged to the room. Standing to one side, clad in a pair of baggy shorts, was a boy, smaller than Miguel, sandy color hair, big brown eyes and the saddest face Elena had ever seen on a child. He was struggling to get a T-shirt open so he could pull it on.

Her heart went into meltdown. “Here, let me help you, Gordo.”

He stood still and allowed Elena to position the opening over his head, pull it down and push his arms through the sleeves. He had the fresh washed smell of pine soap. Dominic must have scrubbed him clean.

“There,” she said, straightening the shirt for him. “My, don’t you look good.”

The sandy haired boy didn’t look so sure. He turned away but gave a little smile, enough that Elena could see his decayed teeth.

“Gordo,” said Miguel, “this is señorita Elena. She is the nice lady I told you about. She will help us.”

Elena leaned against the edge of the exam table. “It’s nice to meet you, Gordo.” She wanted to gather the child in a big hug, but feared that’d be moving in on him a little too fast. When was the last time the little fellow had a hug?

“Help you with what?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Miguel pursed his lips, like he was gathering up courage. “Well, it is like this. Gordo and I, we thought, well really I thought, that I should tell you about the policemen. But Gordo knows, too.”

Elena’s radar moved to full alert. Did these boys know something about the police they hadn’t told anyone? “Go on. I’m listening.”

Gordo stood watching the wall, like he was afraid to look at Elena. Miguel glanced at him and took a deep breath.

“Well, Gordo and I, we used to watch happenings around town.” He hesitated.

Elena nodded encouragement.

“From the rooftops,” said Miguel.

Elena thought she saw where he was going with his story but waited for him to continue.

“And well, you know, we could see lots of things happening in people’s houses.” His cheeks reddened, and Elena could imagine some of the things he might see.

“So,” she said, “you sort of spied on people.”

“Well, yes. We didn’t have much to do at night, and sometimes we weren’t sleepy so we would climb on the rooftops and watch people in their houses.”

“Okay, and ….”

“There was one house we liked because it had one of those very big TVs, and we could see it real good from the neighbor’s roof and the guy always watched soccer, and we liked that.”

Gordo’s interest picked up at the part about the soccer. “ Sí ,” he said in a tiny voice.

Elena couldn’t figure out the next part. She was trying to be patient and hear him out.

“Well, one night the police inspector, he and José came to the house with the big TV. And they got into an argument with the guy and his brother. They lived there together.”

“Who was the guy who lived there and had the big TV?”

“His name is Diego and his brother they call Tito because he is big.”

A sick feeling oozed through her gut. Diego? Not the Diego she knew from the Museum. It couldn’t be.

“Do you know this Diego?” she asked. “Like where he works?”

“At the Museum shop. His brother travels a lot. He is not in town much.”

Elena covered her mouth. Diego and his brother. She couldn’t believe it. She had thought Diego a harmless flirt. What did the brother do? One of those worthless brothers Diego said he never saw. That never helped with his mother. The brother might be ferrying stolen goods with all his travelling. Boy, had she been naïve.