The immediate one was the thought that always came first: Are they looking for me?
Then he thought: I can tell them about the girls in the store!
I can show them pictures!
But would they believe me?
And would they do anything if they did?
If the police went in and made an arrest, then El Gato would lose those girls and their guard.
But he would be free.
And then I would have to find another way to get to him.
He had glanced at the cruiser rolling nearer.
Here they are! Decide, dammit!
El Nariz had avoided any interaction with the police. He quickly but calmly picked up his mop bucket makeshift seat, then started shaking it in the side door of the Dumpster, pretending to be emptying it.
When he’d glanced at the cruiser rolling past, the cops hadn’t even bothered looking back at him.
And he figured that that was logical. Who would waste time to question a dirty Hispanic male who clearly was carrying out his janitorial tasks? They probably could guess at his biggest crime: smelling like shit.
That had been about a half hour ago.
Now El Nariz, back on his bucket between the Dumpsters, heard the sound of another vehicle coming down the alleyway. He looked around the corner of the Dumpsters. He saw a big dirty tan Ford panel van. It had no windows other than the windshield and those on the front driver and passenger doors.
Paco Esteban heard its brakes squeak. It slowed to a stop beside the back door to the Gas amp; Go. He could not see from his angle but could hear a large sliding door on the van opening. Then he heard a Hispanic male’s voice. Looking under the van, he could see black boots on the far side of the van, where the sliding door would be.
El Nariz started to get his camera ready, then decided it wasn’t a good idea with so much daylight still. Whoever was behind the wheel of the van might see him.
He looked at the bumper and saw the Pennsylvania tag there. It read GSY- 696. He thought that he could write down the license plate number-until he realized he’d left his pen in the minivan.
Dammit!
There was more movement on the far side of the van. Visible beside the black boots were two more pairs of shoes. They were very small and low-heeled. Then the back door of the Gas amp; Go opened. The boots moved in its direction first, and the two pairs of shoes followed.
For a split second, El Nariz had a clear view of the three people-two young girls, one in a black dress and one in a schoolgirl skirt and top, and a very thin young Hispanic male in jeans, black boots, and a T-shirt.
I need to get back to my minivan if I am to follow them…
Then El Nariz had an inspiration.
The phone!
He scrolled through its menu. He reached the screen that asked if he wanted to add a new telephone number. He clicked the key for OK, then keyed in GSY696.
Then he picked up the mop bucket. He put it on his right shoulder so that it would block his view of the dirty tan Ford van-and block his head from the view of whoever was driving the van. He started walking across the alleyway until he was out of sight of the van, then trotted back to the minivan.
It was ten minutes before Paco Esteban heard the sound of the Ford panel van accelerating down the alley. He started the engine of his minivan-and just in time, as the Ford van flew out of the alley.
I do not know if the girls are in there.
And I do not know where they go next.
But what else do I do?