As soon as the door’s closedand lockedbehind me, I open the desk drawer and find a pen. There’s also paper, but no envelopes. But my father had supplied that for me.Quickly I scrawl a letter of my own.
Dear Drew
I haven’t got much time, so must make this quick. By now you’ll know I was deported without a hearing. On arriving in Colombia our father’s men picked me up and brought me to his compound. He’s a rich and powerful man now, and I hate to think how he got that way.
Stay away from anything to do with him, Drew. On no account must you come to visit. No matter what you hear from me. I wouldn’t put it past him to forge my signature. I’m a prisoner here, but I’m being well treated. Don’t worry about me. Take care of yourself.
Love you forever
Ma xxx
I put the letter in the envelope, seal it, then write the trailer park address on it. Even if Drew’s still staying with Tse, hopefully he’ll think to check the mail. Apart from putting ‘Satan’s Devils Compound, Tucson, Arizona,’ which I suspect has less chance of getting to its destination, I’ve no other ideas on how to get a letter to him. Then I quickly change into a pair of jeans and a warm sweater, putting the letter in my back pocket.
Grabbing a jacket, thinking it could be cooler in the mountains, I’ve finished just in time as Miguel knocks at the door.
“So, are you ready to do some exploring?” He’s casually dressed. A light linen button-up shirt over a pair of jeans, and, like me, he’s carrying a jacket.
“I could do with getting out of this place,” I respond, truthfully. Unable to say I’m thrilled about a day in his company. My answer seems to suffice.
I thought it would be nearer, our destination is a two-hour drive away. The journey takes us through gently rising gloriously green woodland. As we get higher, the gaps in the forest begin to show stunning views. If I was on vacation, I’d be snappingpictures. If I still had my phone, that is. Which reminds me I’m allowed no communication device. Speaking to Drew, checking he’s okay, would be easy if I had. The thought makes me frown.
“My company isn’t that distasteful to you, is it?” Miguel chooses that moment to turn around and notices my expression.
“What do you know, Miguel? Why does my father want me?” I ask questions of my own rather than answering his. It’s not like I could be truthful. “He doesn’t know me.”
“Perhaps he wants to get to know you.”
“Man like him? If he had more regard for family, my mother wouldn’t have left him.”
Miguel cocks his head to one side. “Do you ever think you only heard her story? That he might have one of his own? That it wasn’t just one-sided?”
Holding out my left arm in front of me, I spit back, “The arm broken by him when I was a child tells its own tale.”
“An accident. The truth warped by your mother,” he snaps back. “You were a child, Mariana, your memories shaped by what you were told. Your father is a good man, give him a chance and get to know him.”
“Oh, I remember it clearly. You don’t forget a bone snapping and the pain, even when you’re young.” I’m angry. I hadn’t needed my mom to remind me. I recall it well enough myself. The only thing I can’t recall is what he thought I’d done to deserve it.
He doesn’t have an immediate comeback. For a few miles we drive in silence. I’m hoping it will continue that way, but then he starts speaking again. “Your father’s older and wiser now, you need to understand the pressure he,we,were under back in those days. We were fighting for peace in our own country. Atrocities committed on either side. You had to become a certain person to deal with that. Now peace has come, that can all be put behind us. Your father has changed,Mariana. Give him a chance to prove it. All he wants is his family to be reunited again.”
I don’t reply. It would be easy to be taken in by his words, yet I’ve seen my father struggling to control his temper. It would be a very long time, during which hell would probably freeze over, before I’d trust the man.
Miguel leaves me to my thoughts, concentrating on driving. After a few more miles, he points to a sign. “Not far now.”
Although I’m not in the mood for sightseeing, even I have to admit to the charm of the beautiful mountain village we’re approaching, taking in the sights as we arrive. Brightly coloured buildings surround a cobbled square, more cobblestone streets leading off of it. With the sun shining down, illuminating the painted houses, I’m enchanted. It wouldn’t be a hardship to explore the little craft shops.
We’ve had a car following us from the compound. When we park at the side of a road, it draws up behind us. Two armed guards get out, and as Miguel opens the door for me, they come and flank us. I study the reactions of the people around us. Some, who look like tourists going about their business, seem unaffected, but several who I assume are residents look wary. At least one abruptly closes up shop. Guessing the men with us haven’t got a good reputation, it confirms I’m right to be suspicious about Miguel’s defence of my father.
The people in the craft shops that remain open are friendly enough. I’ve no money, and no reason to buy anything, but it is nice to be out and have some semblance of normality for the first time in months. Not eager to return too quickly to my father’s residence, I feign an interest. There’s a pretty scarf on a stand outside the shop, I pick it up to examine it.
“You like that?”
I shrug. “I have no money.”
“I’ll buy it for you.”
I look at him in scorn. “You have no reason to buy me a gift, and I have no reason to accept,” I tell him, wanting to preserve the boundary between us. “You say my father wants to get to know me? Well, I’m used to being an independent woman, now I’ve not got a cent to my name.”
“Cents wouldn’t do you much good here, woman.” He reaches into his pocket and extracts some notes, then presses them into my hand. “Here’s some pesos. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t want you to think I was being kind. I’ll get your father to reimburse me.”
