practicing,” said Pilar.
“I’m scraping you off my shoe the minute we leave the terminal,” I said to Kenny.
“Please excuse us for a minute,” Pilar said. I fixed Kenny with a dog owner’s “stay” glare and followed her behind a family and their luggage empire.
“Who is he?”
“Just some nut,” I said, cheered that we were again a conspiracy of two. “I met him on the plane. Don’t worry. He doesn’t know anything. I’m not bringing him along.”
“Maybe you should. They asked me if you were bringing a photographer. They’re very serious about pictures, and everybody knows yours are horrible. But you can’t tell him
anything
.”
“I won’t. I know to be careful. Gonzales came to my apartment the other night. He threatened me. And you too. Who is he?”
“My God. I’m so sorry. What did he do?”
“Nothing. He just tried to scare me.” I decided that complaining of the damage to my monitor and to Yertle’s sense of security wouldn’t reflect well on my courage.
“He works for the hotel. I don’t know anything else about him. He never comes to Bolivia. Jacob, if you don’t want to do this—”
“I came here, Pilar.”
“Did you tell him anything?”
“Nothing.”
“Thank you. Jacob, I wish we had more time. I have more to tell you.”
“About Hilary?”
“Yes. I’ve learned something new. First I have to get these people in their van. Meet me in the terminal in fifteen minutes.”
She withdrew to her Americans.
“What was that about?” Kenny demanded.
“Time for you to hit the road,” I said. “Have you got the address I gave you?”
“I thought I was sticking with you.”
“Sorry. I need to talk to the girl. You understand that, Kenny—a guy like you wasn’t born yesterday. Take a cab into town.”
“Whoa.”
“It costs five bucks. They’ll take dollars.”
“They got meters? What if the guy tries to rip me off? I’ll wait for you. It’s cheaper to share.”
“So long, Kenny.”
He wandered off toward the exit, his head bobbing nervously above the crowd.
* * *
Back in the terminal, I ordered a
café cortado
from a stall-in-the-wall coffee shop and bore it carefully back to the plastic bowling seats that provide so little comfort in so many second-rate airports and bus stations.
“Jacob.” She stood above me, then plummeted to the chair beside me. Again, no greeting, no kiss; no chance to test our level of intimacy, though her face was inches from mine. I was dimly aware of a shimmering of colors and sounds behind her and all around me, but was unable to divert any fraction of my attention from her.
“What have you learned?” I said. “Where should we start?”
She paused, searching for the right words. “I’m sure she’s alive.”
A man ran over Pilar’s foot with his roller bag, and she yipped in surprise. We turned, but the offender was lost in the crowd. I saw, over her shoulder, a lone fair head above the crowd. It was Kenny, gawking in our direction from near the coffee stall.
“What’s your evidence?” I asked quickly, before she could spot him too.
“It’s very powerful. It’s tangible.” She raised her eyebrows, as if trying to convince herself that the topic was extremely interesting, but then let her gaze droop in disappointment. “Maybe we should discuss this later.”
“You keep putting me off.”
“I’m sorry. There are so many people here.”
I nodded, though I had hardly noticed them, except Kenny. “Does anyone else know?”
She shook her head. A secret so important she could tell only me, out of all the world. She had no one else.
“Tell me what to do, Pilar. I want to help you. That’s why I came.”
“You came because I paid for your ticket.” The snap in her voice heartened me.
“I understand,” I said. “If I were you, I wouldn’t have forgiven me either. I hated myself for lying.”
She evaded my eyes and dropped one finger down to her offended boot to press on her toe, like a
“I’m scraping you off my shoe the minute we leave the terminal,” I said to Kenny.
“Please excuse us for a minute,” Pilar said. I fixed Kenny with a dog owner’s “stay” glare and followed her behind a family and their luggage empire.
“Who is he?”
“Just some nut,” I said, cheered that we were again a conspiracy of two. “I met him on the plane. Don’t worry. He doesn’t know anything. I’m not bringing him along.”
“Maybe you should. They asked me if you were bringing a photographer. They’re very serious about pictures, and everybody knows yours are horrible. But you can’t tell him
anything
.”
“I won’t. I know to be careful. Gonzales came to my apartment the other night. He threatened me. And you too. Who is he?”
“My God. I’m so sorry. What did he do?”
“Nothing. He just tried to scare me.” I decided that complaining of the damage to my monitor and to Yertle’s sense of security wouldn’t reflect well on my courage.
“He works for the hotel. I don’t know anything else about him. He never comes to Bolivia. Jacob, if you don’t want to do this—”
“I came here, Pilar.”
“Did you tell him anything?”
“Nothing.”
“Thank you. Jacob, I wish we had more time. I have more to tell you.”
“About Hilary?”
“Yes. I’ve learned something new. First I have to get these people in their van. Meet me in the terminal in fifteen minutes.”
She withdrew to her Americans.
“What was that about?” Kenny demanded.
“Time for you to hit the road,” I said. “Have you got the address I gave you?”
“I thought I was sticking with you.”
“Sorry. I need to talk to the girl. You understand that, Kenny—a guy like you wasn’t born yesterday. Take a cab into town.”
“Whoa.”
“It costs five bucks. They’ll take dollars.”
“They got meters? What if the guy tries to rip me off? I’ll wait for you. It’s cheaper to share.”
“So long, Kenny.”
He wandered off toward the exit, his head bobbing nervously above the crowd.
* * *
Back in the terminal, I ordered a
café cortado
from a stall-in-the-wall coffee shop and bore it carefully back to the plastic bowling seats that provide so little comfort in so many second-rate airports and bus stations.
“Jacob.” She stood above me, then plummeted to the chair beside me. Again, no greeting, no kiss; no chance to test our level of intimacy, though her face was inches from mine. I was dimly aware of a shimmering of colors and sounds behind her and all around me, but was unable to divert any fraction of my attention from her.
“What have you learned?” I said. “Where should we start?”
She paused, searching for the right words. “I’m sure she’s alive.”
A man ran over Pilar’s foot with his roller bag, and she yipped in surprise. We turned, but the offender was lost in the crowd. I saw, over her shoulder, a lone fair head above the crowd. It was Kenny, gawking in our direction from near the coffee stall.
“What’s your evidence?” I asked quickly, before she could spot him too.
“It’s very powerful. It’s tangible.” She raised her eyebrows, as if trying to convince herself that the topic was extremely interesting, but then let her gaze droop in disappointment. “Maybe we should discuss this later.”
“You keep putting me off.”
“I’m sorry. There are so many people here.”
I nodded, though I had hardly noticed them, except Kenny. “Does anyone else know?”
She shook her head. A secret so important she could tell only me, out of all the world. She had no one else.
“Tell me what to do, Pilar. I want to help you. That’s why I came.”
“You came because I paid for your ticket.” The snap in her voice heartened me.
“I understand,” I said. “If I were you, I wouldn’t have forgiven me either. I hated myself for lying.”
She evaded my eyes and dropped one finger down to her offended boot to press on her toe, like a
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