Chiquitita 5/??
Bikky's POV:
I remember my first class at Quantico, looking around, seeing a lot more people than I expected. Feeling a little nervous, a lot excited. Feeling like I was back in high school even though I was 24. Seeing that everyone else looked a lot older than me. 24 is bare minimum for the Feds, or I would have joined the minute I graduated high school. I guess that's what they're afraid of.
I hadn't met my roommate yet, and I was in a pretty good mood, figuring that maybe he'd changed his mind and I'd be left in peace. I'd gone through a ton of them in college, and I hadn't liked any of them. There was Derek, who kept trying to save my soul. Then Andrew, who put in for a change the minute he saw me. Kevin, who thought I wasn't black enough. Then Saul, who thought I wasn't white enough. Patrick seemed okay at first, but the minute he found out that my foster parents were both men he requested a new roommate, afraid that I was going to be unable to resist raping his saggy ass. The other names I've forgotten. It was not a pleasant experience. I had my own way of doing things, my own style, and I wasn't used to sharing or compromising. I was the quintessential only child, and I liked it that way.
The instructor looked like just about what you'd imagine. 50, slightly overweight, suit that looked expensive but really wasn't, shoes that reflected the tiled floor. He moved with the confidence of a man who'd been in law enforcement his entire life, and reminded me heavily of Ryo's old boss.
"Let me ask you something." He began right off the bat, without an introduction. "How many of you are here because you saw Silence of the Lambs and thought it sounded really neat to work for the FBI?"
To my surprise, about 5 people very sheepishly raised their hands.
"Well, then I'd like to suggest that you don't waste my time and your time on this, and leave now. Contrary to what movies and books may lead you to believe, you will not be interviewing cannibals or casing down serial killers before you graduate."
"We won't?" One of the men in the class, who looked about my own age, stood up. "Well, forget it then!" He stuck his nose up in the air and pretended to stomp toward the door.
It broke the mood of the room, and everyone cracked up, even the instructor.
And that was how I met Gunther Sullivan.
Gunther was 25, and the youngest of 9 kids. Both of his parents worked full time to support them all so Gunther and his siblings had pretty much raised themselves. Like me, he had his own method of living, of viewing the world.
Gunther was a short, skinny Chris Farley, willing to do anything and everything to get a laugh. His black hair was never combed, his clothing two sizes too large (he said his inner fat man was lurking, just waiting to break out in later life and he wanted to be prepared). He asked crazy questions, argued small details, and drove every instructor there bonkers. The only reason they didn't throw him out was because that he was the best in every class. He could take down and handcuff men twice his size without even blinking, outshoot all of us, and run us into the ground during exercises. Academically he led as well, having no trouble at all rattling off facts and figures and concepts that left us all amazed.
I guess I don't have to tell you who my roommate ended up being.
I don't know how to explain it, but we clicked though, he and I. He respected my desire to keep the room clean and that I needed quiet to study, and he was always willing to help me finish tough assignments. I was willing to overlook his late-night calls to his wife in Minnesota, and hearing "I miss you" 400 times in one conversation. When he told me her name was Tiffany, I immediately pictured a blonde cheerleader type in a tight skirt, and wondered how on Earth someone like that had ended up with Gunther.
Meeting Tiff was an eye-opener, to say the least. She was a little mousy looking, with huge brown eyes and one of the most beautiful smiles I had ever seen. She and Gunther had met in kindergarten, and been best enemies. They'd despised each other, and Gunther had gone out of his way to tease her. When they were in third grade, Tiff had contracted some kind of illness, I never found out what. But the result was that they'd had to amputate both of her legs above the knee.
She told me this when Gunther was busy, and we were both back at the room. The other kids in her class had been afraid of her, staying away, whispering. But Gunther, the bane of her existence up until that point, had become her knight in shining armor. He did everything he could to make her life easier on her, and even at 8 he hadn't allowed her to wallow in self- pity. He made sure that she was still included in games and activities, and that anyone who made fun of her ended up with a bloody nose for it.
Tiff's mother had been protective of her, and Tiff had chafed at the restraint. When they were 11, she had expressed a regret that it had been years since she'd be able to go sledding. Gunther had smuggled her out of her house to the steepest hill he could find, and for a while they'd used his sled. Then they got the idea of using her wheelchair. Gunther had sat down in it with Tiff on his lap, and away they went.
The chair of course tipped over halfway, and they'd gone spilling down the hill in the snow together laughing. At the bottom of the hill, he'd given her a very shy first kiss. They'd been married for about four years now, and they were planning to start a family as soon as Gunther graduated.
I'd never been much for romantic stories, figuring my own relationship with Cal was romance enough, but I never looked at Gunther quite the same way afterward, and never without a feeling that I was pretty lucky to have him as a friend.
I was thinking about him now as the plane touched down in LaGuardia. He and Tiff were planning to use our brief lay between training and assignment to work on that first baby, and I missed him. I'd had friends before, but besides Cal he was the only. deep friend that I'd had, I guess. The only one that really seemed to know me.
It felt good to be back in New York though, in an airport filled with familiar, solid New York smells. LaGuardia always reminded me of the Star Wars cantina, with a thousand costumes and languages all at once.
I looked for a familiar face, and remembered that I wouldn't be seeing any. It was mid-afternoon. Cal, Dee, and Ryo were at work. Dee and Ryo had tried to get the day off, but apparently someone had the flu and someone else had gone into labor, so they were stuck. And no matter how much Cal loved me, she wasn't going to short-change the kids she watched out for just to meet me at the airport. She lived and breathed her job, and that worried me at times. I suppose I was a little jealous of Tiff and Gunther, and I wondered if there was ever really going to be room for a husband and a family in Cal's life. But the last time I'd tried to bring that up she'd called me a sexist pig and several other things I didn't care to remember.
I made my way outside, and hailed a taxi in less time than I had expected. The driver gave me a look I'd seen before, but didn't say anything, just grunted when I gave directions. Every now and then I caught his disapproving eyes in the mirror, the set of his jaw. I could almost hear his thoughts in the taxi's stale, pine-scented air.
Damn mixed breeds. Your mother have jungle fever, boy? Shouldn't be allowed. Ought to be a law against it.
I still tipped him when we arrived at the apartment, probably more than I should have, and I don't know why. Maybe because I felt like I had something to prove, and I didn't like feeling like that. I didn't like that no matter how much I saw that look in the eyes of people I met it made me bleed a little bit inside. But I knew that the driver would have looked at anyone who didn't have what he considered an acceptable pedigree in the same manner.
The carpet on the stairs was blue now instead of red. There was an elevator, but I was in good shape now from my training and I preferred to use the stairs. Nothing else looked different. There was still a straw ring with a stuffed goose on the door of Apt 12, with Welcome stiffed into the goose's bib. The doormat of Apt 20 was turned upside down, indicating that the moment, guests were not welcome. Mr. Carter, the man in 20, was a little odd but bothered no one.
I still had my keys to Ryo's apartment, and I'd been told to just let myself in. Somehow though I felt funny doing it as I turned the key in the lock, noticing that either I had shrunk or it was a lot higher up than I remembered. I felt embarrassed, like I was breaking in.
It was like the first night I'd been back from college, staying here. I'd gotten up to sneak another piece of cake out of the kitchen and passed by the door to their bedroom. I could hear them inside, could hear both what they were doing and that they were trying very hard to be quiet about it.
It was a jolt. Before I'd moved out, they didn't care if I heard or not. Oh, maybe back at first, but they had a lot of respect for my intelligence and figured that as a teenager, if I couldn't handle the thought of my folks getting it on, it was my problem, not theirs.
But that night, it hit me that I was a guest in their home now, and they were trying to show me the same courtesy they'd show any guest. I realized, standing there in the hallway, that I'd never be able to really call this apartment mine again. It was both thrilling and terrifying, adulthood slamming into me with the force of a Mack truck, and it was one of those moments that you're never quite the same after.
Still, as I eased the door open I found myself imaging that I was about to hear cries of "SURPRISE!" and see all of them inside the apartment waiting to welcome me back.
Instead all I saw was the living room. The couch was different, not new but not the one I remembered from the last time I was here. I found myself chuckling, hoping that it hadn't come off a garbage pile like the "really cool" chair Dee had dragged up here my senior year. It had taken us a long time to get rid of the roaches that discovered it first, and Ryo hadn't spoken to Dee for days.
In the middle of the floor were children's toys. Coloring books and some plastic cars and oversized blocks. Scribbled drawings had been taped to all four walls, and the DVD rack now contained things like " The Land Before Time" and "Ice Age." In a span of less than three weeks, these kids had made themselves at home.
I hung up my jacket, put down my suitcase, and kicked off my shoes. It's funny what grows on you; Ryo was raised to believe that shoes go off at the door, and he'd trained Dee and I to be the same way. You could always tell when Dee was mad at him because he refused to do it and deliberately tramped all over the carpet. Next to the door now were two small pairs of sneakers and larger pair of women's Reeboks. My own dress shoes looked huge next to them.
"Hello?" I called out tentatively. "Is anyone home?"
A minute later I was gasping for air as something very small came barreling out of the kitchen and with a squeal crashed into me, his arms locking around what of my waist he could reach. I looked down to see dark eyes staring adoring up at me.
"You're here! You're really here! Miguel, come see. Our brother is here!" He hugged me tightly.
"You have got to be Nando." I was a little overwhelmed, to be honest. Not to mention flattered. At least someone was glad to see me.
"Yup." He shook his head. "That's my other brother, Miguel." He pointed and I caught a glimpse of a small dark head peeking around the doorway at me, and then ducking back.
Nando let me go with a sigh. "Come on, Miguel. He's our brother! You can't be scared of him."
Miguel stayed hidden.
"Miguel, you are being very rude!" He spoke in a mixture of English and Spanish, changing without warning from one word to the next. He stalked off into the next room and reappeared a second later, dragging the other boy by the hand. Miguel did not look happy but he didn't resist. He stared solemnly up at me when Nando pushed him forward. "Miguel doesn't talk." Nando explained. "He likes you though. He likes your pictures. Ryo and I bought you a CD with bad words, but Ryo won't let me listen to it. He says I can't say those words or do the bad finger thing like you do." He stopped for breath. "They're very nice. They don't even make me eat baked beans. Did they make you eat them?"
I was getting a little dizzy. "I like baked beans."
"I like jelly beans. The black ones are very good. Miguel doesn't like those so I get his black jelly beans. He eats my red ones. I like red ones, but if I get all his black ones he has less to eat. So I give him red so we have the same."
I sat down on the couch. "Where's your babysitter?"
"Right here." A young woman with very long black hair peeped out at us. "I'm Rosa. I didn't want to interrupt you meeting them."
"Bik Goldman." We shook hands, and then Nando, feeling slighted, demanded I shake his as well and Miguel's. Miguel took a step back quickly.
Rosa ducked back into the kitchen, and Nando climbed up on my lap. Miguel sat down on the floor in front of me, staring at us.
"I bought you guys some presents." I pointed at my bag, and Nando immediately ran over it. After a moment, Miguel followed.
I undid the latches, revealing my clothing and my gun. I had gotten a sort of glee when I'd been allowed to check it in with my suitcase. Being part of law enforcement had its perks.
Nando was staring at my gun with wide eyes. "You need to put that up where I can't shoot myself in the head!" He actually shook his finger at me. "I'm just a little kid!"
He was right, and I was completely ashamed to have forgotten it. My instructors would have shot ME in the head, not to mention what Dee and Ryo would have done.
"It's not loaded." I offered lamely, looking around for someplace to stash it.
"Dee says you pretend guns are always loaded." He was still scolding. "Cause they might be."
Dee and Ryo had a small safe in their bedroom where they kept their own guns, but I didn't know the combination, of course. Think, think. something clicked in my head.
I went to my old room and began rummaging around in the closet, trying to ignore the fact that my bed was gone, and that all traces of me had been more or less erased, and trying to ignore that my foot hurt where I'd stepped on a block. Finally, on the top shelf of the closet, I found a small wooden box I'd gotten from Cal for my 16th birthday.
I pushed on it in several places, and the top popped open. The gun barely fit inside, but I squeezed it in and shut the top again. The seal was perfectly blended with the carvings on it, and if you didn't know exactly where to touch it, it wouldn't open. Puzzle boxes did, and will always, rock.
I put the box on top of the refrigerator just to be safe, and returned to the living room, Nando at my heels, still repeating gun safety tips verbatim. "And don't swallow pigeons!" He finished up.
"HUH?" I stared at him.
"Dee puts that at the end, to make sure I'm listening." He explained.
"Here." I pulled two packages out of my suitcase and handed him one. "This is for you." I handed Miguel the other present. "This is yours. They're the same."
"Wow, thank you!" Nando was holding up the small pair of training rollerblades like they were made of solid gold. The wheels could be moved around for added balance. Miguel was eyeing his own pair with the first interest I'd seen him express. At the request of their worried parents, I'd also added helmets, elbow, and knee pads. I was half-surprised Ryo hadn't demanded I provide them with full body armor.
"I'll teach you how to use them." I promised. "Cal and I used to skate all the time." I stopped for a second. "It's been a long time since we did that."
I wasn't comfortable taking them out of the apartment without permission, so instead we ended up turning the kitchen into a mini skating area. Rosa and I stood ready to stop any broken bones or bloody noses, but Nando only seemed to fall on his butt, giggling each time.
Maybe it was the extra year in his age, but Miguel was much better at it, only falling down once. He smiled every now and then, very quickly, but definitely smiles.
"Poor little bird." Rosa whispered to me. "That's what he makes me think of. A little bird, the way he stares with those eyes. Like he's just waiting to be thrown out of his nest again." She shook her hair from her own eyes, and I noticed that she was extremely pretty. "But his Papas, they try so hard to make him feel safe. He's doing much better now than when I met him the first time."
"You really love them." I watched Nando trip over Miguel and fall again with an 'oops'.
"Like my own baby brothers." She smiled. "I'm the only girl, so there were always little boys around. Now, I have nephews too. I suppose I'll just have sons. I must have been a fluke to be a girl."
I laughed with her. "I've never had any brothers before. This is a whole new ballgame for me."
"Today is my Mama's birthday. I spent many hours picking her out a new coat. I know that from my brothers she will get a deck of cards although she does not approve of gambling, and an ashtray although she does not smoke, and maybe a clothes line although she has a drier." She glanced at the clock. "The party is starting soon. I hope your Papas are not late."
"Go ahead and go." I waved my hand. "I'll keep an eye on the kids."
"Oh, no, I couldn't do that."
"Go ahead. We'll do some male bonding. I can't teach them to burp if a lady is around. If Dee hasn't beaten me to it." I added.
She finally gave in, provided that I let Dee and Ryo know that it was entirely my idea. Nando gave her a huge hug goodbye, and I could see that the little guy was totally smitten with Rosa.
"She's my girlfriend." He explained when she was gone. "Isn't she pretty? Doesn't she smell nice?"
On both counts, he was right, I mused, then shook myself. I was almost engaged to Cal. What was I thinking, to be looking at another woman? I was furious at myself.
Now that I had been a gentleman and let the babysitter go to her mother's birthday party, what was I supposed to do with two little boys who had grown bored with rollerblading?
We ended up in the living room watching "Lilo and Stitch" which to my surprise was actually funny. Even as a kid, I wasn't much into Disney or cartoons or cutesy, but somehow I could relate to both the little girl and the little alien, both of them trying to find some semblance of family while their basic nature was just to mangle everything in their path.
Nando was on my lap and I felt a bump. Miguel was now leaning against me, his head against my arm, and I put it around him. "See, I don't bite." I whispered. His own little arms were like Nando's, red and white with burns, and I didn't blame him one little bit for being cautious. I felt a surge of love, and with no fanfare, I became a big brother.
Bikky's POV:
I remember my first class at Quantico, looking around, seeing a lot more people than I expected. Feeling a little nervous, a lot excited. Feeling like I was back in high school even though I was 24. Seeing that everyone else looked a lot older than me. 24 is bare minimum for the Feds, or I would have joined the minute I graduated high school. I guess that's what they're afraid of.
I hadn't met my roommate yet, and I was in a pretty good mood, figuring that maybe he'd changed his mind and I'd be left in peace. I'd gone through a ton of them in college, and I hadn't liked any of them. There was Derek, who kept trying to save my soul. Then Andrew, who put in for a change the minute he saw me. Kevin, who thought I wasn't black enough. Then Saul, who thought I wasn't white enough. Patrick seemed okay at first, but the minute he found out that my foster parents were both men he requested a new roommate, afraid that I was going to be unable to resist raping his saggy ass. The other names I've forgotten. It was not a pleasant experience. I had my own way of doing things, my own style, and I wasn't used to sharing or compromising. I was the quintessential only child, and I liked it that way.
The instructor looked like just about what you'd imagine. 50, slightly overweight, suit that looked expensive but really wasn't, shoes that reflected the tiled floor. He moved with the confidence of a man who'd been in law enforcement his entire life, and reminded me heavily of Ryo's old boss.
"Let me ask you something." He began right off the bat, without an introduction. "How many of you are here because you saw Silence of the Lambs and thought it sounded really neat to work for the FBI?"
To my surprise, about 5 people very sheepishly raised their hands.
"Well, then I'd like to suggest that you don't waste my time and your time on this, and leave now. Contrary to what movies and books may lead you to believe, you will not be interviewing cannibals or casing down serial killers before you graduate."
"We won't?" One of the men in the class, who looked about my own age, stood up. "Well, forget it then!" He stuck his nose up in the air and pretended to stomp toward the door.
It broke the mood of the room, and everyone cracked up, even the instructor.
And that was how I met Gunther Sullivan.
Gunther was 25, and the youngest of 9 kids. Both of his parents worked full time to support them all so Gunther and his siblings had pretty much raised themselves. Like me, he had his own method of living, of viewing the world.
Gunther was a short, skinny Chris Farley, willing to do anything and everything to get a laugh. His black hair was never combed, his clothing two sizes too large (he said his inner fat man was lurking, just waiting to break out in later life and he wanted to be prepared). He asked crazy questions, argued small details, and drove every instructor there bonkers. The only reason they didn't throw him out was because that he was the best in every class. He could take down and handcuff men twice his size without even blinking, outshoot all of us, and run us into the ground during exercises. Academically he led as well, having no trouble at all rattling off facts and figures and concepts that left us all amazed.
I guess I don't have to tell you who my roommate ended up being.
I don't know how to explain it, but we clicked though, he and I. He respected my desire to keep the room clean and that I needed quiet to study, and he was always willing to help me finish tough assignments. I was willing to overlook his late-night calls to his wife in Minnesota, and hearing "I miss you" 400 times in one conversation. When he told me her name was Tiffany, I immediately pictured a blonde cheerleader type in a tight skirt, and wondered how on Earth someone like that had ended up with Gunther.
Meeting Tiff was an eye-opener, to say the least. She was a little mousy looking, with huge brown eyes and one of the most beautiful smiles I had ever seen. She and Gunther had met in kindergarten, and been best enemies. They'd despised each other, and Gunther had gone out of his way to tease her. When they were in third grade, Tiff had contracted some kind of illness, I never found out what. But the result was that they'd had to amputate both of her legs above the knee.
She told me this when Gunther was busy, and we were both back at the room. The other kids in her class had been afraid of her, staying away, whispering. But Gunther, the bane of her existence up until that point, had become her knight in shining armor. He did everything he could to make her life easier on her, and even at 8 he hadn't allowed her to wallow in self- pity. He made sure that she was still included in games and activities, and that anyone who made fun of her ended up with a bloody nose for it.
Tiff's mother had been protective of her, and Tiff had chafed at the restraint. When they were 11, she had expressed a regret that it had been years since she'd be able to go sledding. Gunther had smuggled her out of her house to the steepest hill he could find, and for a while they'd used his sled. Then they got the idea of using her wheelchair. Gunther had sat down in it with Tiff on his lap, and away they went.
The chair of course tipped over halfway, and they'd gone spilling down the hill in the snow together laughing. At the bottom of the hill, he'd given her a very shy first kiss. They'd been married for about four years now, and they were planning to start a family as soon as Gunther graduated.
I'd never been much for romantic stories, figuring my own relationship with Cal was romance enough, but I never looked at Gunther quite the same way afterward, and never without a feeling that I was pretty lucky to have him as a friend.
I was thinking about him now as the plane touched down in LaGuardia. He and Tiff were planning to use our brief lay between training and assignment to work on that first baby, and I missed him. I'd had friends before, but besides Cal he was the only. deep friend that I'd had, I guess. The only one that really seemed to know me.
It felt good to be back in New York though, in an airport filled with familiar, solid New York smells. LaGuardia always reminded me of the Star Wars cantina, with a thousand costumes and languages all at once.
I looked for a familiar face, and remembered that I wouldn't be seeing any. It was mid-afternoon. Cal, Dee, and Ryo were at work. Dee and Ryo had tried to get the day off, but apparently someone had the flu and someone else had gone into labor, so they were stuck. And no matter how much Cal loved me, she wasn't going to short-change the kids she watched out for just to meet me at the airport. She lived and breathed her job, and that worried me at times. I suppose I was a little jealous of Tiff and Gunther, and I wondered if there was ever really going to be room for a husband and a family in Cal's life. But the last time I'd tried to bring that up she'd called me a sexist pig and several other things I didn't care to remember.
I made my way outside, and hailed a taxi in less time than I had expected. The driver gave me a look I'd seen before, but didn't say anything, just grunted when I gave directions. Every now and then I caught his disapproving eyes in the mirror, the set of his jaw. I could almost hear his thoughts in the taxi's stale, pine-scented air.
Damn mixed breeds. Your mother have jungle fever, boy? Shouldn't be allowed. Ought to be a law against it.
I still tipped him when we arrived at the apartment, probably more than I should have, and I don't know why. Maybe because I felt like I had something to prove, and I didn't like feeling like that. I didn't like that no matter how much I saw that look in the eyes of people I met it made me bleed a little bit inside. But I knew that the driver would have looked at anyone who didn't have what he considered an acceptable pedigree in the same manner.
The carpet on the stairs was blue now instead of red. There was an elevator, but I was in good shape now from my training and I preferred to use the stairs. Nothing else looked different. There was still a straw ring with a stuffed goose on the door of Apt 12, with Welcome stiffed into the goose's bib. The doormat of Apt 20 was turned upside down, indicating that the moment, guests were not welcome. Mr. Carter, the man in 20, was a little odd but bothered no one.
I still had my keys to Ryo's apartment, and I'd been told to just let myself in. Somehow though I felt funny doing it as I turned the key in the lock, noticing that either I had shrunk or it was a lot higher up than I remembered. I felt embarrassed, like I was breaking in.
It was like the first night I'd been back from college, staying here. I'd gotten up to sneak another piece of cake out of the kitchen and passed by the door to their bedroom. I could hear them inside, could hear both what they were doing and that they were trying very hard to be quiet about it.
It was a jolt. Before I'd moved out, they didn't care if I heard or not. Oh, maybe back at first, but they had a lot of respect for my intelligence and figured that as a teenager, if I couldn't handle the thought of my folks getting it on, it was my problem, not theirs.
But that night, it hit me that I was a guest in their home now, and they were trying to show me the same courtesy they'd show any guest. I realized, standing there in the hallway, that I'd never be able to really call this apartment mine again. It was both thrilling and terrifying, adulthood slamming into me with the force of a Mack truck, and it was one of those moments that you're never quite the same after.
Still, as I eased the door open I found myself imaging that I was about to hear cries of "SURPRISE!" and see all of them inside the apartment waiting to welcome me back.
Instead all I saw was the living room. The couch was different, not new but not the one I remembered from the last time I was here. I found myself chuckling, hoping that it hadn't come off a garbage pile like the "really cool" chair Dee had dragged up here my senior year. It had taken us a long time to get rid of the roaches that discovered it first, and Ryo hadn't spoken to Dee for days.
In the middle of the floor were children's toys. Coloring books and some plastic cars and oversized blocks. Scribbled drawings had been taped to all four walls, and the DVD rack now contained things like " The Land Before Time" and "Ice Age." In a span of less than three weeks, these kids had made themselves at home.
I hung up my jacket, put down my suitcase, and kicked off my shoes. It's funny what grows on you; Ryo was raised to believe that shoes go off at the door, and he'd trained Dee and I to be the same way. You could always tell when Dee was mad at him because he refused to do it and deliberately tramped all over the carpet. Next to the door now were two small pairs of sneakers and larger pair of women's Reeboks. My own dress shoes looked huge next to them.
"Hello?" I called out tentatively. "Is anyone home?"
A minute later I was gasping for air as something very small came barreling out of the kitchen and with a squeal crashed into me, his arms locking around what of my waist he could reach. I looked down to see dark eyes staring adoring up at me.
"You're here! You're really here! Miguel, come see. Our brother is here!" He hugged me tightly.
"You have got to be Nando." I was a little overwhelmed, to be honest. Not to mention flattered. At least someone was glad to see me.
"Yup." He shook his head. "That's my other brother, Miguel." He pointed and I caught a glimpse of a small dark head peeking around the doorway at me, and then ducking back.
Nando let me go with a sigh. "Come on, Miguel. He's our brother! You can't be scared of him."
Miguel stayed hidden.
"Miguel, you are being very rude!" He spoke in a mixture of English and Spanish, changing without warning from one word to the next. He stalked off into the next room and reappeared a second later, dragging the other boy by the hand. Miguel did not look happy but he didn't resist. He stared solemnly up at me when Nando pushed him forward. "Miguel doesn't talk." Nando explained. "He likes you though. He likes your pictures. Ryo and I bought you a CD with bad words, but Ryo won't let me listen to it. He says I can't say those words or do the bad finger thing like you do." He stopped for breath. "They're very nice. They don't even make me eat baked beans. Did they make you eat them?"
I was getting a little dizzy. "I like baked beans."
"I like jelly beans. The black ones are very good. Miguel doesn't like those so I get his black jelly beans. He eats my red ones. I like red ones, but if I get all his black ones he has less to eat. So I give him red so we have the same."
I sat down on the couch. "Where's your babysitter?"
"Right here." A young woman with very long black hair peeped out at us. "I'm Rosa. I didn't want to interrupt you meeting them."
"Bik Goldman." We shook hands, and then Nando, feeling slighted, demanded I shake his as well and Miguel's. Miguel took a step back quickly.
Rosa ducked back into the kitchen, and Nando climbed up on my lap. Miguel sat down on the floor in front of me, staring at us.
"I bought you guys some presents." I pointed at my bag, and Nando immediately ran over it. After a moment, Miguel followed.
I undid the latches, revealing my clothing and my gun. I had gotten a sort of glee when I'd been allowed to check it in with my suitcase. Being part of law enforcement had its perks.
Nando was staring at my gun with wide eyes. "You need to put that up where I can't shoot myself in the head!" He actually shook his finger at me. "I'm just a little kid!"
He was right, and I was completely ashamed to have forgotten it. My instructors would have shot ME in the head, not to mention what Dee and Ryo would have done.
"It's not loaded." I offered lamely, looking around for someplace to stash it.
"Dee says you pretend guns are always loaded." He was still scolding. "Cause they might be."
Dee and Ryo had a small safe in their bedroom where they kept their own guns, but I didn't know the combination, of course. Think, think. something clicked in my head.
I went to my old room and began rummaging around in the closet, trying to ignore the fact that my bed was gone, and that all traces of me had been more or less erased, and trying to ignore that my foot hurt where I'd stepped on a block. Finally, on the top shelf of the closet, I found a small wooden box I'd gotten from Cal for my 16th birthday.
I pushed on it in several places, and the top popped open. The gun barely fit inside, but I squeezed it in and shut the top again. The seal was perfectly blended with the carvings on it, and if you didn't know exactly where to touch it, it wouldn't open. Puzzle boxes did, and will always, rock.
I put the box on top of the refrigerator just to be safe, and returned to the living room, Nando at my heels, still repeating gun safety tips verbatim. "And don't swallow pigeons!" He finished up.
"HUH?" I stared at him.
"Dee puts that at the end, to make sure I'm listening." He explained.
"Here." I pulled two packages out of my suitcase and handed him one. "This is for you." I handed Miguel the other present. "This is yours. They're the same."
"Wow, thank you!" Nando was holding up the small pair of training rollerblades like they were made of solid gold. The wheels could be moved around for added balance. Miguel was eyeing his own pair with the first interest I'd seen him express. At the request of their worried parents, I'd also added helmets, elbow, and knee pads. I was half-surprised Ryo hadn't demanded I provide them with full body armor.
"I'll teach you how to use them." I promised. "Cal and I used to skate all the time." I stopped for a second. "It's been a long time since we did that."
I wasn't comfortable taking them out of the apartment without permission, so instead we ended up turning the kitchen into a mini skating area. Rosa and I stood ready to stop any broken bones or bloody noses, but Nando only seemed to fall on his butt, giggling each time.
Maybe it was the extra year in his age, but Miguel was much better at it, only falling down once. He smiled every now and then, very quickly, but definitely smiles.
"Poor little bird." Rosa whispered to me. "That's what he makes me think of. A little bird, the way he stares with those eyes. Like he's just waiting to be thrown out of his nest again." She shook her hair from her own eyes, and I noticed that she was extremely pretty. "But his Papas, they try so hard to make him feel safe. He's doing much better now than when I met him the first time."
"You really love them." I watched Nando trip over Miguel and fall again with an 'oops'.
"Like my own baby brothers." She smiled. "I'm the only girl, so there were always little boys around. Now, I have nephews too. I suppose I'll just have sons. I must have been a fluke to be a girl."
I laughed with her. "I've never had any brothers before. This is a whole new ballgame for me."
"Today is my Mama's birthday. I spent many hours picking her out a new coat. I know that from my brothers she will get a deck of cards although she does not approve of gambling, and an ashtray although she does not smoke, and maybe a clothes line although she has a drier." She glanced at the clock. "The party is starting soon. I hope your Papas are not late."
"Go ahead and go." I waved my hand. "I'll keep an eye on the kids."
"Oh, no, I couldn't do that."
"Go ahead. We'll do some male bonding. I can't teach them to burp if a lady is around. If Dee hasn't beaten me to it." I added.
She finally gave in, provided that I let Dee and Ryo know that it was entirely my idea. Nando gave her a huge hug goodbye, and I could see that the little guy was totally smitten with Rosa.
"She's my girlfriend." He explained when she was gone. "Isn't she pretty? Doesn't she smell nice?"
On both counts, he was right, I mused, then shook myself. I was almost engaged to Cal. What was I thinking, to be looking at another woman? I was furious at myself.
Now that I had been a gentleman and let the babysitter go to her mother's birthday party, what was I supposed to do with two little boys who had grown bored with rollerblading?
We ended up in the living room watching "Lilo and Stitch" which to my surprise was actually funny. Even as a kid, I wasn't much into Disney or cartoons or cutesy, but somehow I could relate to both the little girl and the little alien, both of them trying to find some semblance of family while their basic nature was just to mangle everything in their path.
Nando was on my lap and I felt a bump. Miguel was now leaning against me, his head against my arm, and I put it around him. "See, I don't bite." I whispered. His own little arms were like Nando's, red and white with burns, and I didn't blame him one little bit for being cautious. I felt a surge of love, and with no fanfare, I became a big brother.