Damage (Collateral Damage 2)

He shakes his head like it’s nothing and we walk around to where the boy opens the rickety fence and invites us into the backyard.

Two trains pass loudly by as we wait for the grandmother to return and the boy peppers me with questions about the car while the girl watches us with suspicion. Smart kid. It’s when the third train is roaring past that the old woman returns pulling a trolley of food behind her. The moment she sees us, she stops dead, her face losing what little color it had.

I notice her glance settling a moment longer on Rafa than me and I step backward so I can see my cousin.

He busies himself with lighting another cigarette and the little girl yells at him to pick up his matches and the cigarette butt he already discarded.

I go to the woman, smile, introduce myself. She doesn’t do me the same honor, but I let it go.

I take the trolley from her and drag it toward the house, noticing the broken wheel.

She takes it from me when we get inside.

I look around the small room. It never fails to shock me how poor poor can be. But then I see a photograph on the wall. I turn to her.

She shifts her gaze to Rafa who’s hulking in the door.

“He’s not here,” she says before I even ask the question. She knows exactly why we’re here.

“Who’s not here?” I ask.

“Danny.”

“This is Danny?” I ask, pointing to the photo.

She nods, looks me over in my suit. I know she wants to tell me to get the hell out, but she’s smarter than that.

“Where is he?”

“Work.” She puts a hand to her forehead and I see the worry in her eyes. “He didn’t come back this time.”

The kids come rushing in screaming about an ice-cream truck coming down the street and can they have a few dollars to buy one.

The grandmother starts to rush them back outside, away from us.

“Rafa, go buy the kids an ice cream.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Watch your mouth.” I gesture to the kids.

“No,” the old woman says. “They don’t go anywhere with either of you.”

I stop her when she tries to grab the kids.

“They’ll get ice cream. That’s all.”

She just glares at me and I gesture to Rafa to go ahead. He shakes his head but goes. The kids follow him, all smiles and excitement as they discuss which they’ll choose.

I watch the old woman’s eyes follow them.

“Do you know him?” I ask, gesturing to where Rafa just stood. I release her only when I’m sure she’s not going to run after them.

She turns to me. Doesn’t answer.

“Did Danny know him?” Better question, maybe.

“He dropped Danny off here a few times. I saw him in the car.”

“When?”

“I don’t remember. The children—”

“They’re safe. You have my word.”

She sighs, nods.

“Who was Danny working for?”

“I don’t know. But that man,” she shakes her head, makes the sign of the cross, then looks at me, makes it again. “Go. Please. We don’t know anything. I haven’t said anything. No police. The children, they’re just children.”

“I’m not here to hurt you or them,” I say, processing what I’ve just learned.

“My son,” she starts, shaking her head and pulling a chair out from the table. She sits down and I think about the amount of pressure she must be under. “I told him it was no good. Told him to get a decent job.”

I don’t care about her son. He hurt Gabriela. Put her in that well. But the children.

“How do you feed them?” I ask, looking around the kitchen.

She gives me a weary glance. “We manage.”

I take out my wallet, pull out some bills and set them on the table.

She looks at the stack, then up at me and shakes her head. “Mafioso. I don’t want your money.”

“But you need it, so you’ll take it.”

We both hear the kids and I see the effort it takes her to school her features, to take the money and tuck it into the pocket of her dress and stand as the kids run in with their giant popsicles and huge smiles and hand her an unopened one.

“It’s your favorite,” the boy tells the old woman.

“Let’s go,” I tell Rafa, not missing how the woman looks at him. “You were right. Waste of time. She doesn’t know a damn thing.”

I don’t even look back as I say it.

“Those kids need a fucking bath,” Rafa says.

I get into the Bugatti and look over at my cousin.

He turns to me. “Let’s get a drink. I’ll call Clara.”

“Don’t call. We’ll surprise her,” I say, glancing in the rear-view mirror at the woman’s face in the window as I pull away.

20

Gabriela

How can two people living in the same house manage to avoid each other for days?

I should be grateful. Stefan hasn’t been to see me since that night. Afterwards, after we lay in silence for an eternity, he got up and walked out of the room. His room. I slept alone and I don’t know where he went but I haven’t seen him since.