Chapter 6

I'm groggy and I'm trying to parse Pat's words.

"She's crying? Why?"

"I dunno, Dave. Maybe the stress is catching up with her. Maybe ... You didn't, like, DO anything with her, did you?"

"Pat," I gasped, "she's FOURTEEN! No!"

"Well, at least come over and talk to her."

"I'm on the way. I'm driving. Just in case."

"In case of what?"

"I dunno. Just in case."

"Okay, I'll look for your headlights, then."

"Tell Lita I'm on the way." Time to rescue Lita again. But I don't know from what.

I drag on a pair of shorts, swap my white t-shirt for a colored one, slide my feet into a pair of loafers and in a few minutes Pat's letting me in her front door. Lita's sideways on the sofa, knees drawn up, her arms wrapped around them, rocking slightly, her face streaked with tears. She's not faking, or if she is, she's good at it.

I cross the room and sit close to her, at her feet. "Lita," I said softly, "what's wrong?"

She turned her face up, fixed me in the gaze of those big brown eyes. "It is too much. Pat is very nice to me, but I need to be at your house." She shook. A little sob. "Please? It is too much."

Pat was at my side. "Lita, you know the problem."

"I will not be a problem, Pat. Te prometo. I promise. Dave, I will not be a problem."

I looked at Pat. She shrugged. "We're both in this pretty deep now, anyway. As long as she doesn't make a big deal, the neighbors shouldn't say anything. It's not like the Feds are tracking people down."

"I know." I touched Lita's hand lightly. "Come on, Lita. Let's go home."

"Are you ... sure?" Half sob.

"I am sure. Come with me. I talked with Brother Bob. I will tell you what he told me." Then I realized what ONE of those things was.

She stood up. Barefoot, her five feet two inches next to me, her head was at my chest level. She faced me. "I will not be a problem."

"You're not a problem, Lita."

"I'm sorry, Pat. I am sorry. I don't know. Perhaps again later, okay?"

"Okay, sweetheart," Pat said. "Dave, be careful."

"I AM careful," I said. I was. I'd survived a lot so far. Why did I feel like Lita was disassembling me?

She got her shoes and her bag and came to the door. Pat looked a bit sad, a bit confused. I kissed my sister on the cheek. "Thanks for trying, Sis," I said.

I opened the door. Lita walked out ahead of me, got in the car. "You drove this here? It is not far to walk."

"Yes, I know. I walk here all the time. It's just that I don't think it would be a good idea to be seen walking down the street with a fourteen year old girl in her nightshirt. That's how problems start."

"What did Brother Bob tell you?"

"We will talk inside the house," I said. I was feeling dread. After all, a constant thread since I'd met Lita was that she wanted to find her aunt. I don't know that she had any other plan.

We pulled into my drive. She went inside, put her things up in her room, then came to the living room.

"Dave, you do not look happy."

"Lita, I do not have good news."

She watched my face carefully. I saw sadness overtaking hers. "Brother Bob says that your Tia Estella caught an infection..."

The tears welled up. "She is not okay?" Her eyes flicked to mine for the answer. "She ... she is gone?"

"She is gone. Lita, I am so sorry..."

She started to sob. What could I do? I held her in my arms. Let her cry. Shed a tear myself for a woman I'd never met, but who meant so much to my Lita. I let her cry. Held her. Felt her breathing, sobbing.

Finally, she drew a big breath. Stopped sobbing. Still in my arms, she turned her face up. "Dave, I have nothing now. No plans. No goal. No hope."

"You are never without hope, Lita. I told you that you are good here as long as you want."

"But you sent me away. To your sister."

"Lita, I am trying to be a decent person. I thought that maybe you would be more comfortable living with another female. I mean, you and I, we have to take care around each other. About decency."

"I am decent. You are decent. Is not a problem, Dave."

This statement was made by a teen, tawny-skinned, dark-eyed, soft, smelling of bath soap, in my arms. It could be a problem.

She sat straight, realized where she was, slid off my thigh. "What else did Brother Bob say?"

"He says he is going to look into some ways to change your status here. It would be so much easier to take care of you if we got you legal status."

"There are ways, Dave. I knew of people who paid money for them. I did not have money."

"I have heard of such things, Lita. I know nothing of how they might work."

"Brother Bob may be able to find out. You would spend money ... for me?"

I looked at that face, still tear-stained. Decided I'd saw off an arm and a leg to help her. "I'll be back, Lita," I said. I went to the bathroom, dampened a washcloth, came back.

"Hold still," I said. "Turn your face up."

She said nothing, just obeyed. I gently washed her face, cleaning away the tear tracks.

"Thank you, Dave," she said. "It is late."

I connected with her eyes. "Lita, if you go to your own bed, you're going to end up in mine later, am I correct?"

She looked at me, eyes soulful. Nodded. "I try not. But so many things. So soon. You are safe."

'Yeah, I'm getting less safe with every passing minute, ' I thought. "Then come on. Let's go to bed."

A smile. I saw a smile. When I stood, she stood with me. "Hold my hands, Dave, while I say a prayer for my Tia Estella. She was very good to me. If ... We would have a good life in America."

I let her take my hands. She nodded her head, spoke softly in Spanish for a minute. "You would have liked her, Dave. She may have made you a good wife."

"I would have enjoyed meeting her. She was somebody who made Lita happy."

"It is late. Let us go to bed."

And I have a million thoughts in my head precipitated by a fourteen year old hand tugging me toward the bedroom. I watched her turn the covers back. She smiled at me. "I will be back. I will bring another pillow. You hold a pillow when you sleep."

She bounced off, came back, pushed her pillow into place. "Get in."

"You first."

"No," she said. "It is YOUR bed. I must fit myself in what is left after you take your place."

I got into bed as I was told. Slid under the covers. Arranged my pillows. "Okay," I said.

She slid onto her side of the bed. "At the orphanage for many years I had to share my bed with another girl. It is a good feeling to me. I am sorry that I upset Pat, but I wanted to be here with you, Dave. You have been the one to take care of me."

She looked at me intently. "Do you now regret it?"

"No, I do not. But this is strange."

"Strange?"

"Sleeping with you."

"You have slept with me already. We sleep."

"Okay. Good night, Lita."

"Dave?"

"Yes, Lita?"

"This is for the trouble I am." She bounced once. Kissed me on the corner of my mouth, bounced again, and rolled over away from me. I snapped the bedside lamp off.

I heard 'Tia Estella' and a string of soft words in Spanish. In the middle of them, I think I caught my name.

I rolled in the opposite direction, pulled a pillow into my chest and drifted off. In the middle of the night I hit that semi-awake state to roll over and found myself with an arm around me. That role played by my pillow? I was playing that role for Lita.

I had to roll. I was beginning to have a cramp. I tried to move slowly and gently so as to not wake her, but...

"I am sorry, Dave."

"'s okay, Lita."

She rolled away from me and I rolled to a comfortable position and resumed sleeping.

I woke up again later. Pillow was gone. Replacement was Carlita. I gently looked for my pillow and rolled over. This is going to be difficult.

Woke up in the morning with her knees in my chest. My bladder was doing that 'high level alarm' thing. I eased out of bed. She was turning over and stretching as I hit the bathroom. When I walked out, she was at the door.

"Can't wait," she said, zooming past me.

I waited for her to get out before I dressed. She came out. Stopped. Smiled demurely. "We kind of fit, didn't we?"

"Yes," I said, wondering about her knowledge of what happens to the male in these situations. "Go get dressed. We need breakfast."

"I can help make breakfast. Show me what to do."

"Get dressed. What we do is go just a bit up the road and let somebody else cook breakfast."

"That is not good use of money, Dave. We can have breakfast here."

"Then we will do that next week. Today..."

"Okay. If you say it is what you wish..."

"I wish to tell Lita that she is not my personal servant."

"Lita will tell you that she is a part of this house, much as you are, and she will do her part."

"And Lita is quite welcome to do what she wishes." I smiled. "Lita, thanks for offering."

"Thank you, Dave."

"Come on," I said. "Or do I have to pick you up and throw you in the car?"

She has a cute smirk. "Maybe you do."

I reached for her. She squealed and bounced back. "I'll go!"

We walked out the door. "You would have..."

"You asked for it."

"You're funny, Dave."

"You're delightful, Carlita."

We buckled in and headed to the little neighborhood diner.

"It is sad about Tia Estella, Dave."

"Yes it is, Lita."

"I will honor her memory by being the person she saw in me."

"What person is that?"

"A good student ... no, the word is ... scholar. A good person. I can be those things."

"I will provide you a way to be those things. I have no other person to do things for."

"If you did. Meet a lady. You would still help me?"

"Lita, I do not want a lady who does not make room for Carlita. Men get married all the time and they bring children..."

"I am not a child."

"Carlita, you're fourteen."

"Last night at dinner, THOSE were children..."

She was referring to a herd of children that bracketed her age. The concept of manners was not something that darkened their minds. She's right. If those are 'children', she's not a child.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it."

"You are right. I know what you mean. But I am not your child. A woman might not think the same way as if I were your child."

"Anyway, Lita, there is no woman in my life right now who is even close to becoming my wife, so this discussion is not needed."

"It is fun to argue. In English. I must think hard."

"You will always have a place to stay, Lita. Unless somebody finds out that you sleep in my bed."

"I will tell no person."

"You and I. Partners. Okay?"

She looked over the console at me. Strange smile. "Okay. Not father and daughter. Not man and wife. Partners." Giggle. "Like a boy and his dog."

"Who's the boy, who's the dog?"

"I am not a boy. Nor a dog. But like that." She laughed. "Work together."