Harmony (Part 4 Of 16)

Posted on July 28th, 2010 in Short Stories by kimber

Read Part One Here

“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped. “Do we wait for the next bus?”

“No.” No more buses. Eduardo texted Javier , asking for a pick up. “We will walk for some minutes.” Parallel to the road. “My friend will get us.” He ignored Javier’s wise-ass reply about interfering in other people’s problems.

“If he is going to get us, shouldn’t we wait here where he can find us?”

That would be easier, if men weren’t dying just up the road. “It is safer if we walk far from the shooting.”

$

“What kind of plant is that?” Stacy had started asking questions to distract herself from her aching feet. She continued asking because they propelled a stream of imaginative nonsense out of Eduardo’s mouth.

“It is a Kapok tree.” That could be true. “Pea pods from the Jolly Green Giant’s garden.” That was not. He knocked the giant pod and launched into convoluted song about the Jolly Green Giant and spinach.

They marched along. Eduardo continued to sing softly. Stacy continued to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. They’d been walking for what seemed like hours, people had died today, she was exhausted and sore and… happy. She touched the hidden ring.

“What is in Dangriga, little dove?” Eduardo paused to ask her.

Nothing or everything, she didn’t know. “They have a hostel there. The rooms are cheap.” And clean. She was told they even supplied a traditional Belizean breakfast.

“So nothing.” He stepped over a fallen tree. “You should not sightsee on your own. It is dangerous.”

“I’m not sightseeing.” She didn’t like how he put that. This trip wasn’t a trivial tourism whim. “I’m searching.” She balanced on top of the log.

He stopped, turning. They were almost eye level. “What do you search for?”

She touched the ring again. “Myself.” It sounded hokey, like some new age nonsense.

“You are here.” He put his giant hands on her waist. Stacy caught her breath. “I have found you.” He chuckled.

“You don’t understand.”

“I do understand.” He shook his head. “You are not lost, Stacy. You know who you are. That is not why you’re here.”

What did he know? He hadn’t spent the past months cast adrift from himself, swept away on a sea of plans he had no interest in. “Why am I here?” She straightened, bracing herself for another joke.

“You are here searching for permission to be yourself. That only you can give.” He tapped her chin. “And…,” He grinned. “You are here to find me. Here I am.” He spread his arms out.

She laughed. This was when she should tell him. But then he swung her to the ground and the moment was lost. They continued walking, his hand gripping hers. That was wrong too. She should tell him.

“You…,” Live close to here, she was about to ask but didn’t. That would sound like she wanted him to take her home. “Your family,” Better, “lives close to here?”

His smile faded. “No family.” Then he brightened again. “But I live two hours away. Javier too.” Javier must be the friend meeting them. “Many friends. A good boss. A happy life.” He started to sing again, an upbeat Spanish song about the simple things.

She had so much more yet she wasn’t as happy. No, that was no longer true. She hummed along to the tune. She was happy. She was extremely happy.

Read Part 5 August 4

Harmony (Part 3 Of 16)

Posted on July 21st, 2010 in Short Stories by kimber

Read Part One Here

“You two know each other?” The short man, Gomez, spluttered.

Eduardo turned to her. “You are?” He sandwiched her hand between his two much larger ones.

“Stacy Walker.” There was no harm telling him her real name.

“Stacy, I am Eduardo del Popolo Vicente Rodriguez Garcia.” He kissed her knuckles. She felt the impact straight down to her toes.

“Like Manuel, the Spanish tenor?” This man was a tenor too, she heard it in his voice.

Eduardo’s jaw dropped. “You appreciate music?”

She loved music. So much she made it one of her majors. That specialty, combined with Daniel’s influence, landed her a trial term at an exclusive private school this fall. Daniel had been so proud, his response swaying her decision.

“Yes, Gomez, we know each other,” the big man decided.

“I see.” Gomez moved forward in the bus , leaving her backpack on the seat. The rest of his men followed.

“I thought you would.” There was humor in her new protector’s voice as he watched Gomez talk to the driver. “They,” he whispered into Stacy’s ear, causing her to shiver, “are bad men.”

“And you are?” she whispered back.

He chuckled. “A very bad man.”

He wasn’t lying, she knew that, but she smiled anyway. “Are you related to Manuel?” she whispered again.

“No but the name suits me, doesn’t it?” Then he started to sing along with the radio, his voice strong and pure.

She listened, turning to stare out the dirty window. For the first time in months, Stacy felt content. This felt right, being on this bus, Eduardo beside her, the passing jungle a whirl of green, the bus speeding up. Belize. Would she found what she was searching for there? She touched the hidden ring and closed her eyes.

$

The bus lurched to a stop, throwing them forward, Eduardo’s arm securing his Stacy, the movement waking her. Shots rang out. Shit. Ambush. Not by Gomez’s men. There was outrage on the gang leader’s face. Someone else.

“W…w…what?” She blinked those big gray eyes.

Trusting gray eyes.

He had to get her out of here. “Come.” He flung her to the floor, covering her as the next round of shots bit into the bus. The backpack. He grabbed it, it weighed nothing, and slung it over one shoulder. They crawled along the aisle, Eduardo in the lead, Stacy following wordlessly. Eduardo heard a whimper as they moved over a dead man, his body bloody and warm. Gomez’s men were positioned at the sliding door, the only real exit.

Not that many men. Eduardo shot two attackers, creating a break in the coverage. He reached back, grabbed Stacy’s hand, and ran into the jungle.

They ran until the gunshots faded, Eduardo moving so quickly that at times he suspended Stacy by her arm. Her breathing was ragged and as soon as they were out of range, he stopped.

“You are safe.” He moved his hands over her, reassuring himself. Her face was red, her golden hair stuck with moisture to her head, her magnificent chest was heaving, but she was well. “Rest here.” He dusted off a rock with his palm.

“Those… they…,” She sat, so prim and proper on the rock, legs pressed together, back straight, like she was about to have tea with the Queen. “Who?” she asked in English.

“More bad men,” he replied in the same language. Her Spanish was formal and stiff but her English, her English settled around his gut like a fresh cup of java.

“The old lady?”

She had been shot at. She was in the middle of the jungle. Yet she asked about the old woman? “She got off an hour ago. She was not your friend. She was friends with the bad men.”

Read Part 4 July 28

Harmony (Part 2 Of 16)

Posted on July 14th, 2010 in Short Stories by kimber

Read Part One Here

“Miss, we take this bus.” The old lady’s bony fingers curled around her elbow. “Take this bus. Go to Dangriga.” Her wrinkled face creased with even more lines.

She could take the bus with the old woman. It’d be safe now. Stacy looked up at the tall stranger. “Thank you, but…,” Stacy searched for the right words in Spanish. It was her second language and she didn’t want to insult the man. “I will take the bus with my friend.”

“She is no friend.” Those dark eyes narrowed on the old lady. She hissed words Stacy hadn’t yet learned in reply. “For your safety, little dove,” he repeated, his voice was barely a whisper, “come with me.”

His persistence made Stacy even more nervous. No one would be that concerned over a stranger’s safety, not unless there was something in it for him. “I’m sorry.” She turned and followed the woman.

$

So was he. Eduardo saw the way Gomez watched his little dove, like a wild dog contemplating his next meal. Who the hell allowed such a beautiful woman to travel alone? Stupid Americano men.

Stupid Eduardo. It was none of his business, what Gomez did. Eduardo sauntered back to the car, kicking pebbles as he walked. His job here was done, the border guards had been paid, their assurances of loyalty given. The Boss would expect him back. He should go. The little dove was a beauty, her gray eyes gentle and kind, her curves soft and rounded, but he had done his part. He had offered her a choice and she hadn’t chosen him.

Just once he’d like to be chosen.

Gomez laughed, a tinge of triumph overlaying the menace.

“You go back without me.” Eduardo didn’t meet Javier’s eyes. “I’m taking the bus to Dangriga. Pick me up there in five hours.” It would take that long on these roads.

“The Boss said nothing about going to Dangriga,” his friend repeated.

“This is personal, not business.” The Boss would hear about it though. The Boss heard about everything.

“Personal, right.” A laugh. “No woman is worth five hours on a bus with Gomez, Eduardo. Not even your plump pigeon. This is not your problem. Leave it be.”

“I can’t.” She would be harmed. Gomez and his men followed the woman into the bus, sniggering and making obscene hand movements. He couldn’t allow that.

A heavy sigh. “You never can, my friend .” Javier slapped his shoulders. “I will meet you in five hours. One minute late and I come looking for you, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He was a good man, Javier. He always had his back.

$

The elderly woman sat in a single seat by the door. Stacy needed extra room for her backpack so she sat in a double seat. The men filled the seats around her, guns casually held on laps, laughing and joking about going hunting. What they were hunting, Stacy wasn’t quite sure, the animals changing over the conversation, but the sexual implications in their comments were clear. The bus started, music blasting from the beat-up radio.

The short man sat in the seat across from her. “Who is waiting for you in Dangriga, pretty lady?”

Stacy’s hands tightened on the backpack. Had she made a mistake? “My…”

“None of your concern, Gomez.” The big man, Eduardo, ducked his head as he stepped into the mini-bus, the vehicle lowering an inch. “Hold this.” He wrenched the backpack from Stacy’s fingers, tossing it into the short man’s lap.

“That’s mine,” she protested.

“And Gomez will take care of it, won’t you, Gomez?” Eduardo sat down, stretching his arm along the seatback behind her head. Heat radiated from him.

Read Part 3 Here July 21st

Harmony (Part 1 Of 16)

Posted on July 7th, 2010 in Short Stories by kimber

“I take this bus here?” Stacy gestured back at the minibus. It wasn’t much of a bus but then neither was the one she’d exited at the Belize border.

“Yes, yes,” the short man replied in slurred Spanish, sliding the back door open. “This is the bus you take if you want to go to…,” His voice dropped, he tapped the barrel of the gun slung around his shoulder, and the men circling him laughed.

They were all armed. And sweaty. And leering. She didn’t want to get in there alone. “Ma’am, are you taking this bus?” she asked the elderly senorita, the only other woman continuing on.

“No.” The woman frowned at the men standing around the bus. “I stay here. You stay here too, miss. Take next bus.”

She could do that. Though here was nothing to talk about. A couple tables and chairs. Water coconuts being slashed open with machetes. Some men talking.

Stacy’s gaze was drawn to the large man in the black dress pants. He watched her, they all watched her, but not with his intensity. As though he knew her, really knew her. That was impossible. She touched the ring on a chain around her neck, the diamond carefully hidden under her cotton blouse. She didn’t even know herself.

“When is the next bus?” she asked the old woman.

“Tomorrow. Next day.” A shrug of frail shoulders. “It will come when it comes.”

Stacy had been traveling in Central America for three weeks and knew that wasn’t a joke. She’d been stuck in Cobán for two days when a bus broke down. But that had been a larger town, accustomed to travelers, she’d found a place to sleep. This wasn’t even a town. It was a little more than a bus stop.

She glanced back at the bus. “The bus is leaving soon, pretty lady,” the short man called out. He was the leader of the group, not the bus driver. The bus driver sat in the vehicle.

“You don’t want to get on that bus, little dove .” A deep voice lilted musically. He stood by her side, the big man with the black pants.

She looked up, and up, and up, past miles of broad chest, a thick neck, square chin, sharp nose, until she reached dark, brooding eyes. “I need to get to Dangriga.”

“There are many ways to get to Dangriga. This is not the best way.” He stared over her shoulder and frowned. The laughter at the bus faded away.

“It is the only bus.” Was he a taxi driver? Everyone seemed to know him, they had called out greetings, had shaken his hand.

“We will drive you.” As he turned to his equally large friend, she spotted the gun handle sticking out of the back of her new companion’s pants. This was no taxi driver. “Isn’t that right, Javier? We will take the lady to Dangriga.”

“The Boss said nothing about Dangriga, Eduardo.”

The Boss? Were they talking about a mafia boss?

“Let me worry about the Boss.” Eduardo smiled at her, his teeth white in his dark face. “We will take you to Dangriga, little dove.”

“I don’t know.” Stacy hesitated. She had three choices. She could go off with two huge men carrying guns, working for a man they called Boss. She could get into the bus with five leering men also carrying guns, men the old lady didn’t trust. Or she could wait here in the open for the next bus that may, or may not, come… ever.

Read Part 2