Exotic #02 - The Hieroglyphic Staircase (9 page)

The boy sat on the edge of the bed, like it might bite if he wasn’t careful.

“Flaco, did you hear me? Did you see the murder?” Elena asked.

He nodded. “I think so. I was looking for food and trinkets that the tourists throw away and fell asleep in the bushes near the pyramid because I was too tired to return to the bridge. Voices woke me up. They were arguing.”

“What did they argue about?”

He shook his head. “I cannot be sure. About the value of something. I could not hear them very good. Maybe about where something was hidden. I cannot be sure.”

He stopped like he had run out of story.

“Go on,” said Elena. “What else?”

“Then … then the tall man hit the other man when he turned to see who had shouted. Someone shouted.”

“What then?”

“I tried to be very quiet, you see. I was scared.” He hesitated. “But I sneezed. You know, more than once. Like three or four times. I couldn’t help it. The air makes me sneeze sometimes when I wake up. The tall man heard me and shouted.”

Elena watched Flaco trace circles on the bedspread, not looking at her. His arms and legs were scratched and dirt streaked his face. He wore no shoes, and his t-shirt and shorts most people would use as rags. She wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be okay, but she couldn’t guarantee such a wish. Instead, she laid her hand over his small one.

“Tell me what happened then.”

“He yelled to show myself. And another man appeared.”

“How many were they?”

“Three. There were three, I think, with the one on the ground. He didn’t move. He just lay there. I ran toward the river, away from those men.”

He looked big eyed at Elena. “I hid in a cave along the river. The men tried to follow but the brush was too thick for them, and they gave up after a while. Then I circled back to the pyramid. The man still lay on the ground, so I ran to get the doctor who is kind to us.”

“It was you I saw running from the Park when I arrived yesterday.”

“
Sí
. Yesterday in the afternoon I saw you looking for me, but I was scared and couldn’t let you see me. Because the tall man came back, you see. So I hid, and after a while he left. Can you help me? Will the police take me to jail?”

This time Elena put her arm around the frail child and tried to pull him close, but he resisted like he was afraid of her, too. He pulled out of her embrace, stood and backed away.

“I don’t want to go to jail,
señorita
. Why were you looking for me?”

“I saw a boy leave the site. Dominic said you brought the doctor. We wanted to know if you saw anything. And you did. You saw the murder. This is very important.”

Flaco seemed to think that over, but then his thoughts turned to practical matters. “
Señorita
, do you have a
tortilla
for me? I am very hungry. I have not been able to look for food all day.”

Elena’s heart melted. This poor child, who hadn’t asked for the hand he’d been dealt in life, was scared and hungry. Hunger she could remedy.

“Stand in the patio while I dress. Please don’t leave. We’ll go to
doña
Carolita’s kitchen.”

Flaco did as instructed. In the bathroom Elena hustled into clean shorts and top. She was afraid the little sprite would flee. He didn’t. Hunger won out over fear. He was standing scratching one leg with another.

“Come with me,” she said. “Be quiet so we don’t wake
doña
Carolita.”

They tiptoed through the living room and into the kitchen, not bothering with lights. Elena found
pupusas
in the
tortilla
keeper and put them on the griddle to heat. But Flaco couldn’t wait and grabbed a cold
pupusa
and started eating while the others warmed.

“Breakfast so early?” said a voice from the doorway.

Elena pivoted and saw
doña
Carolita in her housecoat, long braid of hair over her shoulder. Flaco ducked under the table like he could hide in the small kitchen.

“
Buenos días
,” Elena said, smiling. “We have a hungry visitor this morning, so I’m heating
pupusas
for him.”

“I can see someone under the table,” she said with a smile. The widow loved children but never had had any of her own. “Under the table is not the proper place for a child to have breakfast.”

She pulled out a chair and motioned for Flaco to sit upon it. “
Sientese, hijo, por favor
.”

Flaco eased onto the chair, licking his fingers. “
Gracias, señora.”

“
Ay, Dios
,” said Carolita. “Look at those hands. This will never do.” She took his arm and waltzed him to the sink. “You must wash your hands before eating.”

“
Sí, señora
.” He dutifully scrubbed his hands in the stream of water at the sink.

“With soap, child.” She placed the bar of soap from the ledge in his hands.

Elena watched from her position of short order cook at the stove. She put the
pupusas
on a plate and placed them on the table, filled a glass with cold milk from the refrigerator and set it with the
pupusas.

Doña
Carolita ground beans for fresh coffee and put milk on the stove to heat for
café con leche.

“I think I will make some eggs for breakfast. Would you like some, child?” she asked Flaco who was devouring one after another of the
pupusas
.

“
Sí, señora. Con muchas gracias
.”

Elena sat at the table and buttered a homemade
tortilla
, her favorite way of consuming that delectable staple.
Doña
Carolita hummed as she worked. Flaco took no time to converse. He was too busy eating.

The coziness of the setting brought back memories to Elena of childhood summers spent in Mexico with her cousins in the small town of San Miguel de Allende, north of Mexico City, where her father had family. One of her favorite pastimes with her cousins was eating tortillas right at the tortilla maker’s stall as they came out of the oven.

“Now then,” said
doña
Carolita, as they sat down to a breakfast of huevos rancheros picante, tortillas, beans, and rice, “tell me what brings you here, young man, so early in the morning. Or is it a secret?”

Flaco looked at Elena as if for a sign about what he should say.

“Forgive me,
doña
Carolita, I forgot to introduce you,” said Elena. “This is my friend, Flaco.”

“Flaco, is it?” she said. “A name well chosen.” She looked him over and nodded solemnly. “Surely you were given a Christian name. What would that be, young man?”

Flaco bowed his head over his food. “I do not remember,
señora
. Always I have had the name Flaco. That is what everyone calls me.”

Carolita wrinkled her short, flat nose and pursed her lips in exaggeration. “Then I shall give you a Christian name. I will call you, Miguel, for the Archangel Miguel, who is my favorite of all the angels. He will protect you and bring good fortune into your life.”

Flaco’s sad eyes brightened. “
Ay, señora, gracias
. You are very kind. Never have I had such a name.”

“Then,” said Elena, “we shall call you Miguel from now on.”

“
Gracias a Dios
,” said
doña
Carolita. “It is a good name and fits such a young man as you.”

“Miguel came to see me on a grave matter,” said Elena. “It has to do with the murder. He is afraid to go to the police who want to talk to him.”

Doña
Carolita finished eating and pushed her plate away. “Are you the little boy who came for Dr. Hidalgo?”

“
Sí, señora
.”

“You did a good thing, Miguel. You may have information that might help the inspector. Perhaps you should consider talking with him. After we clean you up and find you some better clothes to wear, maybe
doctora
Palomares will accompany you to talk to the inspector.”

Miguel looked to Elena, who nodded her head and said, “I would be pleased to go with you. The inspector is anxious to have any information so he can solve this most unfortunate murder. You could be a great help.”

“But what about that man?” asked Miguel. “He said he’d kill me.”

“He said that?” asked Elena.

Miguel nodded his head. “He shouted when I ran that he would kill me if I went to the police.”

“He was trying to scare you,” said Elena. And did a good job of it. It angered her that a grown man, albeit a bad man, would do such a thing to a mere child. “Don’t mind what he says. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Well, Miguel,” said
doña
Carolita, “I’m going to find you more suitable clothing, and Elena can help you with a bath.” She looked out the window. “It’s getting light outside. Soon the sun will be up. Off with you now.”

Elena led Miguel to the bathroom. “Take off your clothes, and I’ll help you get the water adjusted. Here’s a fresh towel.”

Puzzled, Miguel looked back and forth between the shower and the towel and Elena’s face. “You expect me to get in with the water running and no clothes?”

Elena had to laugh when she saw the look on his face. “
Sí,
it will feel good.”

“But I don’t like waterfalls very much. Couldn’t I just use water from the bowl?”

Elena considered his request. She had never met anyone who didn’t like a shower. “I will make the water a trickle. You just step in and rinse, then soap all over, then rinse again. It’s easy.”

Miguel looked dubious, but his options were limited.

“Throw your clothes outside the door. We’ll find clean clothes to wear to the police station. You want to look your best, don’t you?”

He nodded but he didn’t look like he was convinced he needed to do any of this.

Elena smiled and left him to his privacy while she went to her room to try a phone call on Skype.

This time the site was up, and she input the number of Dr. Roulade’s home. The phone rang and rang. It was early, and Elena felt sure she would get the woman out of bed. But nothing. No one answered, not even a machine. She’d try the department office later in the morning.

She applied make-up and brushed out her hair, thinking through what she would do this morning. For starters she’d take Miguel to see inspector Oliveros and have a serious talk with the insufferable man.

Doña
Carolita brought in an outfit she acquired from the next door neighbor who had four sons of her own. “Here’s a t-shirt that should fit and a pair of long trousers. I don’t know how long these will last with the life he leads, but at least he has something presentable to wear to see the inspector.”

They heard him shouting from the bathroom. “
Ahora que
? What now? I am clean but I have no clothes. Where are my clothes?”

The two women looked at each other and smiled.

“I’ll give him these,” said
doña
Carolita. “Would you see to the front door since you’re dressed? The bell is ringing. I don’t know who it could be at this hour.”

Elena glanced at the clock. It was almost six, early for callers. She hoped it didn’t have to do with murder. She walked to the front door and peeked out the side window.

It was Dominic.

A smile tugged the corners of her mouth. She was glad to see him. She hoped he wasn’t angry about her unsocial behavior last night.

“Hi,” he said. He stood unsmiling, his fists stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. “I wanted to apologize first thing for last night. I couldn’t sleep thinking about what the inspector said. And I’m sorry you had to find out what he said from Felicia. She’s only an acquaintance, but she delights in gossip. I hope you slept all right. You’ve been through a lot, and I was worried about you.” He rushed the words like he wasn’t sure of her reaction but wanted to get his speech finished before she could speak.

Elena hadn’t expected an apology. After the few seconds it took to recover from her surprise, she said, “I’m sorry, too, for walking off like that. I’m not sure what to do about Oliveros and his accusations, but I’m going to confront him for a start.”

“I’m with you. We’ll confront him together.”

“Thanks.” She offered an encouraging smile. “Won’t you come in?”

“I’d better get to the clinic. I just wanted to apologize and hoped you weren’t still mad. I’m sorry to disturb you so early.”

“I’m not mad, not at you.” She reached out and pulled on his arm. “Come in for a minute. We have fresh coffee brewing. I want you to meet Miguel.”

“Miguel?”

She nodded. “Come in.” She led the way into the kitchen where
doña
Carolita was grinding coffee beans to make a fresh pot.

“Please sit down
, padre
,” said Carolita, like she wasn’t at all surprised to see him.

Elena started at her use of
padre
. But, she guessed, that would have been the appropriate title in Dominic’s former calling.

Dominic was studying the boy standing by the table. He wore a clean white t-shirt and long brown pants. His black hair was smoothed back, wet from the shower with a sprig of hair that stood straight up in the back.

Dominic smiled. “It’s Flaco, isn’t it?” He looked at the three of them, one after another, asking for confirmation.

“His name is now Miguel,” said
doña
Carolita. “We have just given him a Christian name. It fits, don’t you think?”

Dominic nodded, still smiling. “It sure does. It’s a great name. Pleased to meet you, Miguel.” He held out his hand which Miguel took solemnly in his and shook.

Dominic sat beside Elena.
Doña
Carolita served
café con leche,
placed a plate of
pan dulce
in the center of the table and then excused herself to dress.

Miguel dunked
pan dulce
in his coffee, standing in place beside Dominic.

“How is it that Miguel comes here?” Dominic asked, hunched over his coffee. He seemed more relaxed in the cozy kitchen.