I don't own. Obvi.
Mostly I just want to say thank you.
Chapter Two: The Serene
There are places I remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends, I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them allThough I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
In my life I love you more
"I promise I'll be back as soon as I can," I smiled as I tried to hide the tears forming. "And I'll send lots of fun stuff for you all." Tiny bodies and hands grabbed me tightly, each face sporting a pout the size of Texas. They had no idea that I might never be back. I hugged each child, feeling my resolution to not cry slip with each kiss they'd give me. I wanted to take them all away from this world, and my ineffectiveness paralyzed me. I knew the day would come when I would have to leave, but when I had arrived, when the world was open and free for the taking, I pictured a tearful smile and kisses of happiness, not this rushed departure under the gun.
I managed to pull myself from the classroom at the urging of my boss and best friend, Jacob Black. I had a plane to catch, and unfortunately, they weren't going to wait while I hugged the kids I watched grow up for the past two and a half years. Hell, the guys with guns out front were more likely to shoot me than actually let me get on the flight.
"Hey, novia," I cooed as I hugged a tiny girl tightly. "Te quiero." She stared back at me with deep brown eyes, almost completely black. Her black hair was braided and sat long on her back, her finger stuck in her mouth for security.
Maya had been at the first straggler to arrive at the orphanage, her hair matted with blood, a gash in her arm and her eyes as big and empty as they were right now. She never made a sound, even as the doctor stitched her without anesthetic or painkillers. Instead she stuck her free finger in her mouth and stared at me as I held her, crying enough for the both of us at my first sight of innocent pain. She had been my shadow since then, and for some reason, I felt bonded, maybe even obliged, or better yet safe with her. We found each other at the time when we were both unsure of what we needed. I heard stories of the faint revolution breaking out, but we were safe in our cathedral in the jungle, children of a greater God, free from the world and pain.
Then, sirens started to cut through the regular noises that surrounded us in the darkness; fire shot up through the forests, clouding the black sky with grey smoke in the distance, wafting the smell of rotting and decay our way. The second night of the sirens, Maya had shown up, simply wondering around the jungle at night.
Fate is always doing things like that.
"I love you so much," I kissed her cheeks, her forehead, her nose. She smiled faintly, only recently starting to show that emotion of happiness. "We're going to be ok," I swore, even if she couldn't understand. Her eyes just stared back at me, echoing so much to me.
I clutched the picture of Jacob, Maya and I, the papers he had fabricated, and our tiny backpack of clothes eagerly. These were the most important things in my life; this is what my life had become.
Two years ago, I was a young, idealistic girl who couldn't have picked between her iPod or cell phone as most vital aspects of her being. Today, I was older, scarred from reality and the loss of the innocence that I once clung to so tightly. I hadn't found myself; I'd found the reality of the world.
Fate is always doing things like that.
The door of the classroom shut with a resounding snap, canceling the noise of the goodbyes I was wished, and instead smacking me with the silence of the surrounding jungle. Ah, home sweet home, I thought, taking in the lush forest that surrounded the orphanage. I remember stepping of the plane for the first time, wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into when I applied for the internship to teach English in Guatemala. Of course, this was before everything happened, back when times were happy.
I was once a different person though, I guess. That person seemed like a distant dream, as never having existed. I'd seen things, heard things, felt things that should never be allowed to exist, and it had tortured me.
I sighed, taking one final gulp of air that was always sweet with nectar and humidity, and made my way to the waiting jeep. The two men with guns, waiting to get rid of every American, watched me with scowls. The revolution was winning; I was an enemy, better off dead.
I held Maya tighter under their glare. As soon as I was in the truck, they slammed the door, yelling at Jacob to get me out of there, with a few harsher words thrown in for my own sake. Jacob drove in silence along the bumpy tracks that blazed through high grass and never-ending shrubbery. I gazed out into the greenness that surrounded all sides, and tried to memorize every fleeting detail. I had once feared the jungle, the rivers, but soon enough, it became part of me, and the kids taught me as much as I had taught them. Now, I only feared never coming back, of something happening to the kids, to Jacob, to Leah. I needed to stay, but I was forbidden, an American traitor, despite my time spent raising and teaching the youth.
I didn't think to open my mouth and talk over the rickety engine of the jeep as we barreled along towards Barillas, the closet town. Jacob didn't either. He was my best friend here, we'd seen things together that bond the soul, we've lost things that unite hearts, and he understood the silence. Maya played with my hair, studying it, as I was the outside word, unconcerned with the silence. Instead, I replayed ever second of my arrival, wondering just how different I'd be when I got back to the states after everything I'd seen.
"Alice, I'm going to be back soon enough," I scolded my best friend as she clung to me in the Sea-Tac airport.
"Bella, two years isn't soon enough," she cried, hugging me tighter. I had graduated only a month ago, after two and a half years and finishing my bachelors in English, and I was ready to go out and do something, much to my family and Alice's dismay. I applied for the orphanage outreach internship a few months before graduation, and forgot about it almost completely, thinking it only a pipedream. I'd graduated early just for this purpose, to stretch my wings before getting too old, before having to settle down, hoping to find myself somewhere along the way.
The day before graduation, I got the call. I quickly accepted, and in the whirlwind that accompanied the following days, I tried to convince everyone that it was for the best. I was going out to help, to go somewhere where teachers were scarce, at best, where few people wanted to go, and I was going to do something to make a difference. Orphans that spoke English were always more appealing, so readily adapted as an accessory to any well-off family.
"I promise, I'm only a letter away, and sometimes I'll get to use the phone, and you'll be my first phone call," I swore as I pulled out of Alice's death grip. I knew that it'd be a long shot, getting to use a phone, but it was nice to give her some hope. The orphanage sat on the Rio Dulce, on almost six acres of forest and fields for the kids. It was a small operation, but always able to take in anyone who needed it. The local villages used the school there as well, so it was a great community tool, and I was excited to be exploring something so different form Seattle.
"Be careful down there," Alice reminded me, unfazed by my promises.
"I will," I swore, shouldering my bag and shuffling my feet. "What's the worst that could happen?"
"Don't you dare say that!" she screamed, hugging me back to her, as if her hug would save me.
"It's a village in the middle of the jungle, I'll be fine," I reasoned with her one more time, believing that since it was so hidden, the real world really wouldn't touch there.
Like I said, I was once optimistic.
About six months into my start at San Simon Orphanage in Rio Dulce, during the time of La Quema del Diablo, the burning of the devil, the time when spirits were to be high and merry, the devil himself did burn. He burned and threw his flames in all directions, poisoning hearts and working his chaos. Civil protests and battles started to break out in the bigger cities. Of course, months later it filtered to the villages closest to us. Jacob, the director, and once a student at the orphanage, swore that no matter which party won, they wouldn't harm an orphanage. I believed him, and true to his word, it never happened. Of course, other places weren't that lucky. Hospitals, churches, schools, homes, every place within ten miles of civilization were attacked, burned, massacred.
There was no aid.
The U.S. took no stance with the parties, meaning no help at all as cities died between stolen machine gun battles or brothers killing fathers.
Almost eight months into my internship, children started to appear at our doorstep, battered, bloody, crying and hurting. Optimism has no place in a house full of murder victims' left over's. Children came to us, and we couldn't turn them away, even when we were at capacity, stretching what we had that much more, often the teachers going without.
As much as this situation should have scared me, had me running back home, tail between my legs as the real world attacked serenity, I couldn't. I would make sure those children were protected, as best I could, until they pulled me, kicking and screaming. They'd already seen too much, and I couldn't stand that. Unfortunately, kicking and screaming withheld, that's exactly what the revolution did; forced me out, afraid that the murder of an American would spark U.S. interest.
A few months ago, the men with guns showed up, claiming the orphanage as a public service, and one the government was involved in, even if it ran on private donations and we worked for nothing, not to mention the fact that there was no government. The men with guns stayed, clad in their camouflage and dirt, always watching, waiting. Political parties clashed and raged, creating more turmoil, enough so that I was ordered out by the government, or told I'd end up in a ditch. I asked for the ditch, but Jacob made me change my mind, telling me it would kill him if I did that.
I felt the tears on my face, warm and salty even in the humidity that made my skin a constant state of slick and damp as we reached the tiny shack of an airport with the tiny plane parked on the dirt runway.
"You have the papers, the picture?" Jacob finally asked, searching my face with worry. We were about to risk everything, and if we failed, it meant death.
"Yes," I mumbled, nodding. We got out of the car and approached the plane with the armed guards. They were the same to me as the ones that wait around the orphanage; faceless, cowardly men, killers of children, of families, diablos. I propped Maya on my hip as we approached, clutching our passports, one real, one bought.
"Just the woman," The taller guard hissed to Jacob, his Spanish rough and with a hint of mountain origins.
"My wife is taking our daughter. I cannot look after her," Jacob lied perfectly. Between the both of us, if one squinted their eyes and was half drunk, they could believe that Maya had been our own. She had Jacob's russet skin and black hair, only really pulling my eyes. Back home, no one would think twice when they looked at the picture of us together; they'd think Jacob was her father simply because they were from the same country. But here, I wasn't so sure.
"Papers?" the guard asked, nudging me with the barrel of his gun. The cold metal made me shiver. I pulled the fake birth certificate, passports, and our flight papers and orders to evacuate from my pocket. He snatched them and scanned them, looking for the lie. My heart stopped beating with each flicker of his eye over the papers. He thrust them back at me a moment later before moving out of the way so we could climb into the tiny cockpit. I turned to Jacob, not content with just silence.
One can't content with wordlessness in the face of death, though wordlessness is all that can be said.
"Jacob," I shook my head. He hugged me tightly before kissing my forehead, followed by his kiss on Maya's. "I love you," I whispered, kissing his cheek. He had been my brother in arms, my protector, and I did, I loved him.
"I love you, Bells. Take care of her," he smiled. His eyes screamed to me, so much he couldn't say. I just nodded before climbing into the plane. How hungry eyes are when they know what they see is fleeting.
He waited, standing by the jeep until we were in the air. He had given so much, to make sure I got out safely, he risked everything to help me save Maya, and I could never repay him.
I scanned the towns from above, gazing out the window to still my mind and try to escape the haunting memories. Cities were in upheaval, and things were only getting worse, but I wished I could stay. As sick as it sounded, I found myself here; I'd lost myself here.
The tiny body squirmed in my lap as I realized my grip was tight on Maya's tiny frame. I kissed her forehead as the plane took us into Mexico City, to a tiny airport beside the giant, real one. This one was my last glance at the primitive world that I had grown used to, and now, thinking about cars, traffic, electricity, hot water, toilets, I almost felt disgust. In twelve hours I'd be in Seattle, which might as well have been a million miles from Rio Dulce. I'd be free of armed men, guns pointed at me as I walked to get water for the children; I'd be free from it all. Yet, as the plane touched down, I knew my heart was still trapped.
On the way to Alice's apartment, she stopped by a store to buy some necessities. I was timid, for the first time in a long time, which was weird, considering I'd had a gun pointed at me not more than fourteen hours before. Fluorescent lighting and rows of products made me skittish. I was dragging on my feet, but I knew Alice was right to stop. Maya clung to me a little more now, but didn't fuss, just tried to take everything in at once.
"So, everyone was at home, waiting for you with a surprise dinner," Alice peeped fearfully as she grabbed a cart. "But I told them about our newest addition, sort of, and they understood that it'd be better to see you tomorrow." I smiled in thanks. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and never get out again. I wanted to ask her to talk louder, because it was so loud to me, but didn't. I let the noise scrub me raw.
"Thanks." I wrapped the sweatshirt tighter around Maya. She clung to it, almost happily, as if it were a security blanket.
"That looks new, Bella," Alice finally realized as I rubbed Maya's back. My arms were growing tired of holding her, but I couldn't let her go.
"Some guy on the plane gave it to her," I explained as Alice threw soap, toothpaste, toothbrushes, brushes, and shampoo into the buggy. "I think she dazzled him with her eyes. Right, Maya?" She just looked back at me at the sound of her name and nodded slightly.
"Maya," Alice mused, moving to the clothes after grabbing pull-ups and baby stuff. "That's a beautiful name for probably the cutest kid I've ever seen." I couldn't help but beam. "Will she call me Aunt Alice?" my best friend asked, as always turning a situation into something else.
"She doesn't really talk," I answered, somewhat ashamed to derail her excitement. "She knows what we're saying, she'll nod, shake her head, but she never makes a noise."
"She doesn't cry?" Alice balked, holding clothes up to Maya's frame then throwing them in the cart. She was going overboard, but I wasn't about to tell her that. I already knew that by tomorrow we'd have new clothes waiting for us when we woke up; clothes we'd both probably hate.
"No, not at all. She has silent tears, los rasgones silenciosos," I whispered, more to Maya. Alice just frowned and stared at the girl again. I knew exactly what she was thinking; poor child, pitiful, defenseless. But nothing could be farther from the truth. Maya survived. We moved to grab me a few pairs of sweat pants for the night and then to leave.
"She'll be calling me Aunt Alice before you know it," Alice finally predicted as we got back into the car.
"I hope so," I admitted. I didn't know if I actually did hope it though. I vaguely recalled what that felt like, but wasn't sure exactly.
The whole ride to Alice's apartment, she chattered about nothing of consequence to Maya, who just stared at her, occasionally sneaking glances at me, almost asking what the hell she was going on about.
We walked upstairs, arms filled with bags so we didn't have to make two trips. It was almost ridiculous how things I thought I'd forgotten came back in the drop of a hat. Alice started going through things right away so we could get Maya to sleep. The night was already creeping in, and I didn't know how long I was going to last at this rate.
"This is your room," Alice beamed as she swung open a door. Although Alice had moved since our last place together, she set up everything in my room for me. My old clothes were in the drawers, my clock on the nightstand, pictures and posters on the walls. I was almost crying again, but instead elected to swallow it. I gave Alice a watery smile and hugged her tightly.
"I love you, Alice. I'm sorry for leaving and everything," I finally apologized, los rasgones silenciosos falling, making my voice crack. "I'll never be able to repay you."
"Sisters don't repay anything," she balled along with me, although hers more like sobs, while I choked mine. "Bella, we've been in this together forever, and it didn't end just because you were off saving the world." She hugged me tightly, and I clung to her as Maya did to me. Alice pulled away, a giant smile on her face. Maya put her hand on Alice's cheek, almost wiping the tears.
"Hey, Maya Bug, want Aunt Alice to give you a bath while Mama gets dinner?" Alice cooed, holding her hands out to her. The word 'mama' scared the hell out of me. I didn't know what I was, and I didn't want to try to figure it out anymore.
"I'm not sure Alice," I hesitated. Maya reached back out to her, even as I clung to her.
"Bella, you have to put her down sometime. Nothing is going to happen to you here. You're safe now," Alice swore, never asking questions, never assuming, simply promising with all the conviction she could. I nodded, handing her over. My arms felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds each.
"There should be pizza in the fridge from your party. We figured you'd be missing that," Alice chuckled, walking towards the bathroom with a bag in hand.
"Why isn't Jasper here?" I called, finally realizing that there was a gaggle of people waiting to see me, to continue their lives, and I was messing things up already. "Doesn't he live here?"
"He's at Rosalie and Emmett's for a few days, until you get adjusted," Alice answered over the sound of water. I started to devour part of the pizza, straight from the fridge. After I ate a piece, I grabbed another and walked towards the bathroom. Before I turned the corner, I knew Maya would have a smile on her face. She loved the water, so a bath would be a perfect way to acquaint her with modernity.
"Maya Bug, you know that I think you're a pretty smart cookie," Alice whispered, splashing water with her. "Aunt Alice is going to help now." I nibbled my pizza and watched Maya, smiling at Alice, nodding her head and playing in the water. She had slept most of the trip, but I knew so much change was bound to wear her out soon enough. "And this hair, oh my goodness, it's gorgeous. I'm never going to let you cut it," Alice laughed, pouring water over her head as she tilted her head upwards.
"You know, Jasper didn't have to go," I stated, still working on my newest slice of pizza. "I'm not a broken train wreck, I just need to adjust."
"But I wanted time with my best friend," Alice answered, sporting only a small smile.
"I'm not going anywhere, Alice," I shook my head, laughing slightly.
"I know, I just missed you," she answered, turning her attention back to Maya. "And I know you don't want to talk about anything yet, but you're going to break soon enough, and it's not going to be pretty." I scoffed, earning a fierce glare from Alice. "I'm serious Bella." If she knew anything that had happened, that I'd seen, she'd have known that I was unbreakable. I'd been broken too much to even be put back together.
"Alright, My-Bug, let's go before you prune," Alice finally laughed, pulling the stopper and grabbing a big fluffy towel. Maya stood and let her pick her up as if she'd been getting baths all the time. "It's Mama's turn." I followed them into the bedroom, not ready to be away from Maya, who was smiling still. The times when she was happy had become precious and fleeting, and I wasn't going to miss it.
"You can't keep shortening her name into nonsense," I scolded Alice, all of a sudden regressing to our back-and-forth nature so easily. "Her name is Maya Rebeca Swan," I informed her. "She is named after the Mayan tribe, because we found her wondering, wounded, and Jake said she looked like the ghost of a warrior. And Rebeca, the beautiful, mute orphan from One Hundred Years of Solitude."
"She is all of that, warrior, beautiful, an orphan and mute, but she's also a Maya-Bug," Alice giggled, placing her on the bed as she tickled her sides and made a face. I just rolled my eyes as Alice toweled her and slipped on pull-ups. Maya had been potty trained for a year now, but I figured it was better to be safe than sorry in a new place. She put baby lotion on her skin, most likely a first. I watched Alice's fingers trace the giant pale scar that snaked its way down Maya's arm. It healed considerably well, and her arm was fine, but every time I saw it, my heart sank.
"We found her, with a gash on that arm, and her head. She sat the whole time they cleaned it, didn't flinch," I whispered. "Jake thinks it was a stray machete swipe, but we never found out for sure." Alice's eyes got big again, but she didn't say anything, just nodded. Maya sat up once Alice dressed her in some pajamas of a cartoon character she'd never heard of. I sat on the bed and she crawled into my lap quickly.
"Can I have one of those brushes?" I asked Alice, burying my nose in Maya's clean scalp. I brushed her hair gently before braiding it for the night.
"Do you think she'll eat pizza?" Alice asked apprehensively, noticing that I was stuck in 'mom-mode'. I just shrugged my shoulders. "I wasn't kidding about you showering, either," Alice warned me as she skipped out to the kitchen.
Maya looked at me and crawled off of my lap for the first time today. I watched her search for something, her brow crinkling softly.
"What do you need, Maya?" I asked. She held her hands out to me and squeezed her fists. "I don't know what that means, honey." She walked around the bed, checking both sides to no avail. I watched her grow frustrated, noting how much it distressed her not to be able to verbalize what she wanted. I felt how much it hurt.
"Hey, Bella, do you want me to wash this?" Alice strutted in, holding the blue sweatshirt and a plate of cut up bites of pizza. Maya tottled over to her and grabbed at the sweatshirt.
"No, I think its Maya's now," I smiled, watching her clutch it and pet it. Alice made a face, but didn't fight it. I knew it would be washed in less than twenty-four hours.
"Go shower please," Alice begged, sitting on the floor with Maya and the sweatshirt. "I'll feed and water the kid." I started to protest, but I watched Maya squat near the plate and look at the food curiously. Alice grabbed a piece and ate it. Soon after, Maya followed suit. I grabbed my sweats and headed down the hall, hearing Alice giggle in the bedroom.
Slowly, I stripped the clothes from my body, feeling the dirt and grime that accumulated for a while now. Standing before the mirror, I realized I looked like shit. My eyes were held down by bags, attesting to the exhaustion, my hip bones had grown a little more prominent, my hair dull, gritty. I didn't recognize myself. I stepped into the warm spray of water, and felt each muscle relax. I tried to think about how I ended up here, having a stolen child, finally realizing that she was mine, forever. I wasn't sure I was ready. I wasn't even sure I was alright. But those thought flashed and disappeared under the hot water. I boiled my skin, scrubbed with the soap and washcloth multiple times, covering every inch of skin, until my skin was raw and red. I didn't feel clean enough though. I washed my hair three times, the fragrance of strawberries always a welcomed shock. After that, I stood there, naked and defeated in the water, trying to move. It'd all be screwed up tomorrow still, I tricked myself. Tonight I needed to be reborn. So I stood there a few more moments. Here I was safe. Here I was no one.
I turned the water off and dried off, amazed at the soft texture. I dressed, brushed my hair and walked into the hall, new.
"Maya and I decided we were going to have a slumber party," Alice smiled as I came back into my room to find them already in bed. Alice was on one side, with Maya in the middle, cuddling the sweatshirt.
"Maya helped you decide that?" I couldn't help but laugh at Alice. "Did she eat?" I asked, turning the small desk lamp on for light.
"Yeah, almost two pieces," Alice informed me. I crawled into the bed and let out a content sigh. Maya curled into my side as I kissed her.
"Beso, novia," I whispered. She smiled and kissed me gently. "Te amo."
"I have to learn Spanish, pronto," Alice huffed. Maya touched her cheek once again before snuggling against me one last time. She melted at the gesture, and I was pretty sure that Maya already had a permanent fan. I started to hum gently for her until her breathing became regular.
"Alice?" I whispered, pulling the sheet up around Maya.
"Yeah?" she asked, her eyes shut.
"Tell me I did it right, and I'm going to be alright," I asked quietly. Alice opened her eyes as she turned her head, and searched my face, her dark eyes studying me softly.
"Bella, you did everything right. You made the right decisions and you did your best. You and Maya are going to be alright," she swore. I nodded.
"Thanks," I muttered, watching the little girl sleep.
"Are you ever going to talk about it?" Alice asked a few moments later.
"I'm not sure," I answered honestly. "Just like I'm not sure I'm her mom, and I'm not sure I'm the same person that left."
"You're not the same," Alice quickly spoke. "But that doesn't mean that who you've become isn't who you weren't meant to be. Everyday it'll get easier." I nodded again.
I stopped fighting the exhaustion and let it take me away from everything.