Chapter 2

"Watch TV. I need to go shower myself."

"Okay, Dave." She smiled. I like the smile.

I did my shower and shave routine, making sure that this time I brought my clean clothes with me since I was not alone in the room any more.

I let the stream of hot water soak the funk off me, all the while thinking about morality as taught me by my father. I voluntarily took on a responsibility with Carlita.

In Dad's terms, "You brought it home. You fed it. You owe it something now." He applied it to strays. I saw many a dog come and go. Dad had an immense heart when it came to the pups, and he seemed to have almost endless resources of people he could call upon to find homes. I'd watched him pick up starving, ragged strays, nurse and feed them back to health, then see somebody's little boy hugging HIS new best friend.

I had one of those in the adjoining room, smiling as she figured out the operation of a TV remote control for the first time.

I finished shaving, made one more pass with a towel, and dressed myself, then padded into the room in my bare feet.

"I broke it, Dave. I'm sorry. It was working. I pushed something. Now it's broken."

I smiled. She looked so contrite, nervous, no, scared, actually.

"No, Lita. Very seldom can you break the TV by pushing buttons on the remote." I looked. Sadly, she pushed the remote across her bed towards me. I looked. She'd accidentally switched video inputs.

"This is an easy one. Here..." I said, extending the remote to her.

She shook her head violently. "No. NO. I broke it."

"You can't break it by pushing these buttons. You just told it to do something that doesn't work here. Take it. Go ahead." I extended it to her again, then I sat down close to her. "Now, push this button. It says 'Menu'..."

I talked her through it. Didn't take long to get the picture back.

"Is this show okay? I am curious about these things." It was a nature documentary.

"It's very okay, Lita," I said. "After five we'll go eat."

"Yes. That is good."

I leaned back in my own bed, thinking. One thing crossed my mind. She was exploring her new world, even if it was something as mundane to me as the TV remote control.

I guess I dozed off. I awoke to the gentle push of a hand and a soft, "Dave?"

I opened my eyes.

"It is after five."

"Okay. All I need to do is put on shoes. What sort of food do you wish?"

"I would like McDonald's."

"Seriously? There are some good restaurants around here."

If you don't want McDonald's, that is okay."

"McDonald's," I said. Disbelief. Then realization. She'd never BEEN to America. What do kids outside the country know about America? I guess McDonald's is one of those things. Oh, well, I can endure it. Not like it's the first time I ever ate at one. "McDonald's it is, then. For Lita."

"You do not eat at McDonald's?"

"Sometimes. I sometimes drive through and get a hamburger and eat it while I drive."

"I have heard about McDonald's. I thought Americans ate there all the time."

I smiled. "No, we do not. But I think Lita needs to eat at McDonald's at least once. Put your shoes on."

A freshly washed, neatly dressed Lita is a neat thing. She had a little bounce in her step and a smile on her face. Her clothing wasn't meant to emphasize that this was a young female, so the indications of that fact were subtle. And, dare I think about it, alluring.

We walked out to the truck. I clicked to unlock her door. She looked at me quizzically. "It's unlocked," I said. "You can get in."

She did. She buckled her seatbelt, looked at me while she did it. Eye contact. "I remember, see?"

"Yes, you do."

She looked behind the seats. "Desordenado. Messy, correct? If you were not messy, I could not hide."

"I'll keep that in mind next time I think about cleaning out my truck," I said.

"You may clean it now," she said. "You do not need to pick up more Carlitas."

The comment startled me, I guess. I looked over at her. She was smiling. "Until this one finds her tia."

McDonald's was less than a mile up the road, a paean to mediocrity, as far as I was concerned. After all, this is Texas, and in Texas, fast food burgers mean Whataburger, to the discerning, but Lita's idea of America was, among other things, a place with McDonald's. The Land of Golden Arches. I pulled in, we got out, I locked the door.

"How well do you read English," I asked.

"I read better than I speak," she said confidently. And she took my hand. I looked at her.

"This is ... Look over there..." she said, catching my question before I voiced it.

I looked. There was another adult with a kid in tow. Okay, I'll buy it. I smiled. Taking my 'niece' to McDonald's.

Ten minutes later we're seated in a booth each with a tray of burger, fries and a drink. She was a couple of bites into hers.

"Well, Lita ... McDonald's. Good, or no?"

She smiled. "Good. I saw McDonald's in Guatemala. I thought American McDonald's must be good. First time I have eaten at McDonald's."

"Good," I said. "I did not want to disappoint you."

"I am not disappointed." She dove back at that burger.

I felt better about the whole deal than common sense told me I should. We finished the meal, dumped our trash and got back in the truck.

"Wanna ride around?"

"Ride around?" she asked. "Why?"

"Just to see things. Or there's TV back in the room."

"But you just ride around? For no reason?"

"The ride IS the reason, Lita."

"Yes, I want to ride around."

We did. I'd spent enough time in this town to know the main loop, so we did that. I pointed out some restaurants that I enjoyed.

"A lot of Mexican places," she said.

"Texas was once part of Mexico, and a lot of people who were not Anglos stayed after the Texas Revolution. And a lot more have come since then."

"I see. All these places are not from undocumented..."

"Most are not. Perhaps many of the workers, though ... there are not Guatemalan restaurants."

"Perhaps that is what Tia Estella is going to do. Or maybe something else. I think people would not know what to expect from Guatemala. But the food I ate in Mexico is not too different, I think."

"That's good to know. I didn't want to think of having to feed you McDonald's every day."

"I don't think I want McDonald's every day. It was good, but I think other things may be better."

"And Lita would be correct. Tomorrow we will start with breakfast."

Our little road trip took us out on a loop through the countryside. I knew the route because it passed by one of the stations I took care of. I pointed it out. She looked appropriately interested. She was also interested in the farmland, just turning green with the spring planting, and the family homes and ranches.

"And these are ordinary people? Like you?" she asked.

"Yes. My brother has a place rather like this. He works a regular job, raises some cattle on his place. Makes a little money from them, I guess, but it's what he wants to do. I have my own place, but it's just a half-acre. My job takes me away too often to really care for a farm. Animals need care every day."

"People do, too, I think."

"Yes, they do. But people can feed themselves and clean up after themselves and sometimes that works okay when people are alone." And what did I just say?

"I wanted to be alone," Lita said. "On the trip. I was afraid. If it had been discovered that I was a girl, it would have been bad. I know girls who were attacked. What is the word when a man forces a girl..."

"Rape."

"Yes. I cannot even keep the word in my head because I feared it. There were girls with us when our group started. I do not know what happened to them. I think it was not good." She sighed. "I knew that each day longer, I was closer to being found out. That is why I left on my own."

"How did you do that?"

"We were walking in a group along that path, the one your building was near. As it got dark, I just walked away from the group. What would happen to me out there was better than what would happen if I was found to be a girl." She looked at me. "Now I am not alone. You are my first friend since I come to America." She smiled.

We completed the loop, returning to the hotel, found something on TV.

"I did not destroy the TV this time, Dave," she said.

"I see that. I need to get you into using a computer, Lita."

"I would like that. I see yours."

"That's my company's computer. I have one at home that you may use. You need to learn. It's not hard. Every American kid knows how to use these things. Email, Searching. Reading. Watching videos."

"I have heard of that. I have not used a computer, though. Was only a dream."

"I will help that dream, Lita."

"Thank you, Dave."

The TV droned for a bit. I was reading on my iPad. I caught a motion out of the corner of my eye. Carlita rolled to face me.

"You said you have a brother?"

"Yes. He's a year younger than me. Ron. And a sister, a year older. Patricia. We call her Pat. Ron works in a refinery. Pat teaches school. Ron has two children. Pat isn't married. No children. Pat and I live on the same street."

"Oh. And what is it that you do?"

"I'm an engineer. I work with electricity."

"You are not married?"

"No." This was a sore point, but Carlita couldn't know it.

Her eyes widened. "No children?"

"No."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-eight," I said.

"In Guatemala, men who are twenty-eight have families."

"Perhaps in Guatemala it is easier to find a good wife."

She looked over at me from her bed, smiled a little. "I hear much about America. I see TV. I read. Women are very free here, more than Guatemala."

"I don't know how things are in Guatemala," I said. "I've heard there is a difference."

"My Tia Estella says it is not the same as when she was younger, but there is a difference even now." She looked longingly at my iPad. "Can I see it? Your iPad?"

"Sure. Of course." Nothing on the thing that would give Lita any cause to worry about this man who'd rescued her.

She held it, gauging its weight. "Show me."

Okay, I can do this. "These are icons. They represent applications. People call them 'apps' for short. Each one is a program that does something or shows me information. This one," I pointed at the map, "tells us where we are and can give us directions on how to get where we want to go."

"How do you do that?"

"Just tap it with your fingertip..." and we were off on Lita's trip into technology.

"How much does such a thing cost?" she asked.

I told her.

"It is no wonder that I did not see one at the orphanage. That is much money."

"Not so much, Lita. I have an older one that I will give you if you want it."

Her face lit up. Truth? I bought the latest, the one she was playing with. I tossed the older one into a cabinet with the intent of putting it on eBay. The couple of hundred bucks I'd get for it wouldn't be nearly as much fun as seeing Lita smiling. I have a niece and a nephew, but they each have one, or at least something like it. Lita? I knew that everything she owned was in this room.