“Sí,” Ronaldo said quietly. “Y ingles.”
Tater ruffled his hair. “Good. You’ll be fine with me, okay?”
The boy gave a shy nod, but still clung to me. When Tater stood again, his eyes went back to being serious, making that heat spread from my chest to my limbs and core. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to run my hands up his chest and over his neck, up to his cheeks, and just hold his face as I drowned in those eyes.
“All right,” one of the guards yelled. “Disperse!”
Tater stepped away and I inhaled to clear my mind. Linette gave me and the kids one last glance before walking away. I looked down at them.
“Are you guys hungry?” They both nodded. “We don’t have much here, but I’ll see if there’s anything left over from dinner. Do you like chicken and rice?”
Again, they both nodded, so I led them to the dining hall. They ate well, even devouring the mushy peas. I wondered where they’d been hiding out, and how many insurgents there’d been in their group.
“I find Mama and Papa now?” Ronaldo asked the second he finished.
Again, my insides sank to a sickening low.
“No. We have to stay here. Nobody is allowed in or out. This is your home now. I know this is hard and it’s confusing, but your parents are not allowed in. I’m sorry.”
“But why?” he asked, his eyes welling.
“I want my mommy too!” Now Kelsey’s eyes filled, and both of them began wailing. They looked exhausted. I stood when the two door guards came in, weapons out, looking at the kids like they were dangerous wild animals.
“They’re tired and overwhelmed,” I explained to the male and female Baelese. “This is normal for human children.”
They looked disgusted by the outburst, and the kids only gained momentum, crying louder at the sight of the guards with their guns.
“It’s okay,” I tried to soothe them. “Let’s go find your beds. Do you want a comfy bed and a blankey?”
Ronaldo stood, still crying, but I had to pick Kelsey up in my arms. She went limp before we even got out of the dining hall. The guards watched me suspiciously as I walked out carrying one, holding the other by the hand.
I took Ronaldo to the men’s barracks, stopping ten feet from the door at the sight of the guards. “I’m looking for Jacob Tate. He’ll be taking care of this boy.”
“Tate!” one of them shouted.
Tater came out, his hair wet from a shower, and I had to swallow. His eyes skimmed me with their normal, hungry aggression before seeking Ronaldo and softening.
“Okay, come with me,” he told him. “Bien?”
“English only!” a guard yelled.
Tater’s jaw clenched. “Sorry. I forgot.”
One language. That was one of their goals for humanity, though they still got to keep their own language. I thought about Tater and Amber’s mom, Juanita, and their Abuela. Their language. Their culture. As Tater took Ronaldo into the men’s dorm, I turned away and walked fast, holding Kelsey securely. How long would it take for every memory of Spanish and other languages to be forgotten? One generation? The wrongness of it shattered every sense of value I had inside.
Damn the Baelese for all the beauty they were killing and erasing. And damn the Senator for being the monster who allowed it.
