Part 10 (1/2)

”I know you feel what I do,” he told me, maturely ignoring Kelsey. ”It's almost like electricity, or chemistry, and it's real, and I'm pretty sure there's science behind it, frankly. But I don't think you should get in the middle of the mess that I'm in right now. It wouldn't be fair to you. We got plenty time, later. Go back to your life, Maria, and stop trying to seek me out. Let me find you, when the time is right. Or better yet, let's just not see each other at all until it's over.”

I felt tears well up in my eyes. ”That's really nice and really mean at the same time,” I said. I groped for his hand, and found it, squeezed it. Instantly, I was met with the incredible warmth and sense of peace I'd gotten the other times we'd touched. He looked down at our hands, and looked...scared. Like a little boy.

”Whoa,” he whispered, as a sort of heat energy just pulsed back and forth between us.

”Yeah,” I said, feeling all melty inside. ”I think that's what they mean by chemistry.”

”Uhm,” said Kelsey. ”I think you're about to have a sickeningly touching moment. I think I'll just go look around the back of the church for a minute and think about Israel and the Moors, or something. If that's cool with you. Uhm, yeah. Well, alrighty then.”

We didn't answer, because we were quite occupied looking into each other's eyes. I'd never felt this way before, and the magnetic pull toward him was overwhelming. I scooted closer, but just as he'd done last night, he braced himself, then backed away. He dropped my hand, and literally recoiled from me as though I had the plague.

”The best thing I can do for you is leave you alone,” he said, struggling to believe it.

”That's not true.”

”It is. Trust me. It has to be. Please trust me.” He turned his attention to a small blue door at the back of the room, anxiously.

”Do you live here?” I asked him.

”Something like that. I'm safe there, because even Ulysses is afraid of The Maker.”

”The Maker?”

He looked embarra.s.sed, caught, and backtracked. ”G.o.d,” he said. ”That's what I meant to say. G.o.d and the church. The bad guys know better than to come in here, and the people here have been very kind about sheltering me and my animals.”

”Why all the animals?”

”Don't you know why, mamita?” he asked me, with a knowing look. ”You feel the same way about them that I do. It's love. I've seen you with Buddy. You're like I am, a big softie. It's one of the things that makes you so beautiful, Maria.”

I was struck then by the incredible difference between Demetrio and Logan with regards to animals. I'd never known a man who loved them the way I did. I didn't think such males existed.

”Are you gay?” I asked him.

”What?” He seemed surprised, but not offended. ”No. Why do you ask?”

”Because you love animals, always smell good, and you won't kiss me.”

He laughed softly and sighed. ”I'm very straight. I'm also careful. I'm not impulsive, Maria. This ain't the right time for us, me and you.”

”I can help you do this, get away from those guys,” I said. ”My mom's really powerful, she's a city councilor and a lawyer, she's running for mayor and comes from an old powerful family in New Mexico; she can help you. She knows a lot of people. Really.”

”That's really nice, mamita, but you don't understand what's at stake,” he told me, and I saw tears well in his eyes. ”Just trust me, please, and go.”

”Don't do this,” I whined.

”You have to leave here. I've - I've never known a girl like you. You're safe to leave now. Those guys are pretty much nocturnal, and they're gone on their rounds. I promise I'll see you again. Okay? But not - not like - I don't know. I'm a little confused, too. I have to go.”

”No,” I said, crying a little.

”I'm sorry. I have to go. Bye.”

He opened the blue door, stepped through, and shut it behind him. I went back to the front door, and found Kelsey there trying to blend in with the shadows.

”That was very sad, and creepy and totally inappropriate in every way,” she said.

I hugged her, and broke down crying. ”I'm totally losing my mind, aren't I?” I mumbled into her shoulder.

”Maybe,” she said, holding me tightly. ”Yes. I mean h.e.l.l yes, you are. You are. But all that means is that it's our job to help you find it again. Let's get out of here and go home. We don't belong here and you know it.”

I looked around, and tried to believe her, but honestly, I felt like I did belong there. I felt like an acorn fallen to the base of its tree, like a Monarch b.u.t.terfly following its instincts to the natal land of its grandparents. I was supposed to be here. But I knew better than to tell her this. Even with the best of friends, there were limits to disclosures.

”Let's go,” I said.

And we did.

We didn't make it far, however. As soon as we left the town limits, at Mile Marker 21, the road was suddenly coated in shrapnel, bits of sharp metal that seemed to have fallen from a junkyard truck. I saw it too late to swerve away, and b.u.mpingly ran the Land Rover over it all. The large pieces of debris were too much even for the tank I was driving. I felt a small explosion beneath the car, and then heard the telltale flap and thud of a flat tire.

”Great,” said Kelsey. ”Just when you think your day can't suck any worse than it already does, what with your life being threatened by a trailer trash gang leader named Ulysses, this happens.”

I hobbled the car to the shoulder of the highway, and turned to look at her with worry in my eyes. ”This is where I crashed,” I told her, scarcely able to believe it myself.

”I know. Golden, Highway 14. Yadda yadda yadda.”

”No. It's exactly where I crashed, Kelsey. Exactly. This is the same exact spot.”

Kelsey gulped, but pretended to shrug it off. ”So, it's a coincidence.”

”If you believe in coincidences.”

We sat in silence for a moment. A coyote call pierced the evening air. It was close, and the animal seemed to yip for joy that the sun was going down, opening up the bunny buffet.

”Do you believe in coincidences?” she asked me.

”I used to. But, no. I don't think so. Not anymore.”

”Yeah. Well, me neither,” Kelsey pouted. ”And I'm pretty much blaming you for that, provided we survive to a.s.sign blame at all.”

I fumbled through the glove box for the roadside a.s.sistance number, and called it. I gave the dispatcher the coordinates from the GPS map. Ten minutes pa.s.sed, and we still waited for help. Twenty minutes later, and we still waited. By then, Kelsey was wiggling and bouncing around in her seat, her legs tightly crossed.

”What's wrong?” I asked her.

”I really have to pee,” she said. ”All that water I drank.”

”You have to hold it.”

”I can't. You saw all that water I drank. I really have to go, Maria. I mean really.”

”You can't.”