Chapter 4: You are not to blame for

It was mid-morning, now. And although the rush hour had passed, it was still going to take a while to exit the city, especially when one wanted to avoid the Hollywood Freeway. Mando preferred to take his time and not arise suspicions, driving just under the speed limit and choosing minor roads, but it also meant lingering in L.A. when all he wanted was to put it behind him as fast as possible. He couldn't trust anyone, and was suspicious of every car that stayed in his mirror too long. Was it someone from La Eme? Someone from his own gang acting on Greef's orders? Cops, crooked or otherwise, that had been clued in on the situation?

He'd estimated that it would take him around 12 hours to complete the 500 miles journey he had set out for himself, avoiding tolls and highways, where he could be more easily stopped. And if the police had set an APB on him and the baby, he had to take each and every precaution in the book. Since he had no idea whether his friend would be home, and had no way to contact him to find out – even if he did have his number, that wasn't a conversation he wanted to have on the phone – he'd have to arrive during daylight. It meant they'd have to make a stop and find a motel at some point. It was usually something he tried to avoid, but with a kid in tow, this was probably for the best. And sleeping in a bed was pretty high up on his list of wishes at the moment.

Mando paused in his thoughts. His friend. How could he be sure he would still be his friend? He dearly hoped he wasn't making one more mistake. His military family was the only one he could turn to, now. But he'd know tomorrow, on the 4th of July. How fitting, somehow.

There was another stop they needed to make, and Mando didn't relish that prospect. Once again, if he had been on his own, he could have avoided it, surviving on quick pit stops and drive-thru coffee and food, but there was the kid to think about. He was pretty sure there were no drive-thrus for diapers and whatever food 18 months old could eat.

They would need to go shopping. Mando shuddered. Shopping with a toddler was the absolute last item on his list.

But first, getting out of the city proper, which took close to two hours with the still heavy traffic and his indirect approach. He'd decided to push through once in Ventura, crossed Los Padres National Forest, and arrived outside Bakersfield. The child was still sleeping soundly in his seat, Mando giving him quick looks every so often in the mirror, and the drive had almost started to feel pleasing. The car was comfortable, the A/C much better than in his old truck, and he had found expensive-looking black sunglasses in the glove compartment that did the trick against the blaring Californian Summer daylight. They even looked pretty cool, Mando thought, in a rare self-conscious contemplation.

Making a list of all the items they needed in his mind, and aware of the fact that he would also need to change and feed the toddler, Mando knew he had two choices. Either he found a small bodega somewhere and hoped they'd have everything, picking another spot after that to take care of the kid and figure out if there was any way he could safely reach out to Greef, or manage to do everything at once in the one spot he was the least expected to be found.

Walmart.

On an early Summer afternoon, the day before the 4th of July. In other words, sheer madness.

Or sheer brilliance, he preferred to think, unless his face was plastered on every website and news channel by then, but somehow he doubted the LAPD could move that fast, especially now that he was in Kern County, technically outside their jurisdiction. There was no way to know how much of an influence Moff could have on the State police, but he didn't think he'd be found out just yet. It was on the other hand a safe bet to stay well away from any place gang members could come across him, and Walmart was definitely not where they went shopping.

Mando still scanned the radio for any word about him once he had parked in the football field sized lot, but didn't hear anything alarming. This, in combination with the car having stopped, woke up the kid, who opened his eyes sluggishly and emitted a groan. Fearing loud wails, Mando held his breath in wait as he turned towards him, but the child quieted down as soon as he saw him, and started babbling something he couldn't decipher.

"We're going shopping, kid."

More babble, and Mando started breathing a little easier. Maybe they'd survive this new adventure, he thought.

Once inside the building, he started having doubts, though. The place was immense. How were people supposed to find what they were looking for? But the good thing was that said people paid zero attention to him. They were interested in one thing only – buy stuff. And the looming celebratory weekend meant they wanted to buy even more stuff. So Mando, fearing he stood up like a sore thumb with his dark zip-up hoody found in his gym bag hiding the gun he chose not to leave behind, hood up, sunglasses on, pushing a cart with a green onesie wearing toddler, was actually just one more customer. And the boy proved to be a great cover. Many people – mostly women, but some men too – were pushing their own kids around, thanks to the child seat equipped shopping carts.

Clearly, it wasn't the first time the toddler was riding in one of those, and he seemed to be enjoying the whole experience. He was looking everywhere, his huge brown eyes becoming even bigger. There was indeed a lot to see, but Mando didn't want to linger more than they should, so he set out in search of baby things first.

His first obstacle came when he had to choose diapers. There were a lot more than he expected to find. He finally settled on a medium sized pack where the kid on the picture looked about the same age. The rest, he'd have to figure out later. He picked up wet-wipes and baby soap in a nearby shelf, then remembered that the clinic nurse had mentioned something about a diaper rash. She'd applied cream, and he wondered if he could find that here. Further on, he spotted something that would do the trick, as well as a couple of pacifiers. The toddlers he saw all seemed to be munching on those in the store, so maybe they could be good for the teething thing.

Then came clothes. He couldn't very well leave him forever in his green onesie, but the sheer amount of choice at his disposal staggered him. Why would such young kids need that much variety? They could stay in pajamas all day! Still, when he found a soft brown hoody with round, tiny bear-like ears sewn in the hood, he realized he might have had this all wrong.

"They're so cute, aren't they?" said a woman he hadn't seen coming, right beside him. He must have been holding the tiny garment longer than he thought.

"I'd get it in 2 years if I were you though, they grow up so fast at that age," she added with a knowing smirk, already turning the corner with her cart. Mando sighed, feeling like he was going through an out of body experience – what the hell was he doing here again? – and did exactly as she had suggested.

He added a few more items almost randomly, some clothes for himself, a map of California, food for the both of them – spending precious minutes reading labels on baby food jars – and after a blessedly short queue thanks to the massive number of checkout lanes, they were back in the car. He'd paid cash, and was worried to see how much he was already spending when he still had to take fuel and the motel tonight into account, but he decided not to fret about it too much yet. He'd bought only stuff they actually needed – tiny hoodie excluded.

Mando grabbed a clean diaper from the bag he'd just bought, the wet-wipes, cream and some new baby clothes with the tags removed, and went back inside, having spied a baby changing room by the store's entrance when he had come in.

The kid had only been seen wearing the green onesie from the clinic, so he thought it best to have him wear something else. When he saw how many tiny snap-buttons the thing had, he was glad to have picked up jogger pants and a T-shirt instead. Removing the old diaper, using the wet wipes and the cream was less of a struggle than he had expected, but putting on a fresh diaper proved quite a challenge. How was he to know which way they were supposed to go? Sure, he understood that the adhesive tag things had to meet in the middle, but on what side? His front or his back? He wished he'd taken the bag with him, although he wasn't sure it included a user guide. The baby was no help at all, and kept on trying to grab his own toes.

"Does it feel alright to you?" he couldn't help but ask the kid, hoping stupidly that he would tell him that no, the diaper was upside down. But no answer was given except for a coo.

Oh, well.

When they exited the room, the kid now also wearing tiny slip on sneakers that Mando was awfully proud to see were the right size, he put him on the ground, thinking he'd like to stretch his legs a little, before heading back to the car. He couldn't believe he'd actually missed out on the fact that the kid could walk. But then, when he'd discovered him behind a pile of cardboard boxes, he had been effectively trapped in. It already felt like such a long time ago, and the toddler, cleaned-up and in actual clothes, looked completely different.

As he was happily frolicking and wobbling like a minuscule drunk person in the limited crowded space, never straying far from Mando and always keeping him in his line of sight, he suddenly had an idea, when the kid dashed too fast on his left, which prompted a young woman to suddenly change direction, but not before Mando was able to divest her of the phone she was unwisely keeping in her jeans' back pocket.

Mando grabbed the kid and went back to the car. He knew that the child was probably hungry, but once he had made his call, they would need to leave. So he strapped him in his seat (getting better with the harness) gave him a bagel, a pacifier, and a baby bottle filled with water, and let him choose how he wanted to occupy himself while he phoned Greef. He chose the bagel, Mando was pleased to see, and started happily chewing/slobbering over it.

He dialed the number he knew by heart quickly, before he could change his mind.

Greef picked up on the first ring.

"Are you alone?" Mando asked him.

"Yes," his boss eventually replied after a long-drawn exhale.

Obviously, Mando had no way to know if he could trust him, on this matter or any other, but he wasn't going to be on the phone with him long in any case.

"Where are you?" Greef quickly pressed.

Mando stayed silent.

"You need to come back," he insisted, "we can still make this work, but you need to come back."

"Make what work?"

"Look, Mando, this is bigger than you. Bigger than any of us."

"But not bigger than La Eme?" he pointed out.

Another sigh on the other end.

"I don't like their involvement any more than you do, but I had no choice."

"Why?"

This time, Mando was the one who didn't get a reply. But he couldn't let it go.

"Greef, it's La Eme, what the fuck is going on? There's nothing too big that would make siding with them a good idea."

"You're wrong. But that kid you have with you could be our ticket out, you need to bring him back."

"Not before you explain it to me."

"I can't."

"Then we don't have a deal."

"Mando, I'm ordering you to bring that child back to HQ, right now."

He couldn't help but laugh humorlessly.

"So that you can hand him off to La Eme? To Moff?"

"It's the only way."

Mando scratched his scalp angrily, failing not to be distracted by the toddler he could see in the mirror, still dutifully working on his bagel.

"Do you even know what they want to do with the kid? Did Moff tell you during your cozy meeting?" he asked, hoping to get a rise out of Greef.

"I don't need to know, not when I'm confident it's going to resolve our problems."

"What problems?" Mando pressed again, wanting to understand desperately. But no reply came, and he grimaced, knowing he had to hang up soon.

"Greef, whatever promise Moff made to you, you can't trust him. We can't trust him. It's just a kid. A baby."

"You didn't use to have such principles, Mando."

This was low. And he dearly wished Greef was in front of him instead of on the other end of a phone call. Just so that he could see the dark look in his eyes. And the fist coming towards his face.

"I had principles, you just weren't there at the time."

"Listen to that, the good little soldier. Is that what you're gonna do, then? Run back to them?"

Mando was only half surprised that Greef knew him so well.

"They're never gonna take you back."

And knew which buttons to press to hurt.

"You belong with us, Mando. We're your family. And you need to come back and bring in the child."

Mando hung up before he said anything he would later regret. It took him a full minute to feel composed again. He couldn't make sense of his discussion with Greef. What he'd learned only brought up more questions. Questions he had tried and failed to have answered. The kid was supposed to resolve a problem, whatever it was, involving two rival gangs who had joined forces. Somehow, the police also played a role in this scenario. Mando was normally very good at following orders – he'd made a life out of following orders. But this was wrong. This whole thing felt wrong.

"Who are you, kid?" he wondered out loud. He only received a gurgle in answer and couldn't help a small smile.

On their way out of the parking lot, Mando casually slid his window down and dropped the phone he had been using to call Greef – he didn't need it anymore.

They drove North for about half an hour, and once Mando felt he had put enough distance between them and the Walmart, he stopped at a gas station in a place appropriately called Lost Hills. He filled the car up and got coffee, then parked in the back to look at the map he had bought more closely. He was good with maps, but he preferred aeronautical charts. Since they weren't flying to their destination though, he'd have to make do.

He ate a bagel and sipped his coffee as he worked, choosing his roads carefully and picking a spot for the motel tonight. There was a lot of road ahead of them if they wanted to reach Concord, which would then be about 2 hours from their destination tomorrow morning, and thus seemed like as good a place as any. Mando reached out for a banana, still absorbed by the map, and thus didn't see the kid reaction until he heard him.

"Ba..ba…banana!"

He'd forgotten again that the kid had also spoken that morning. It was just to say no at the time, but still.

"Yeah I'm eating a banana," he confirmed with a chuckle.

"Banana!" the boy repeated, holding his hand towards him, his little eyebrows crossed in concentration.

"You haven't finished your bagel," Mando pointed out, the half-eaten thing discarded on the middle seat.

"Banana!"

Mando sighed, beaten, and handed him a small piece of it. It was eaten with a lot of gusto, so another piece was offered. Then another. In the end, the kid ate almost all of it.

"Next time, get your own," he complained half-heartedly, using a wet wipe to clean up both the bagel and banana mess the kid had made.

He handed him the baby bottle and he drank some water, then the pacifier was accepted with a contended coo. If only everybody was as easy to please as this child, marveled Mando.

Back on the road, they drove in silence. The kid was either looking outside or napping – Mando chose the latter moment to eat another banana and make a quick pit stop on the side of a deserted road – but Greef's words still bothered him. How could he be absolutely sure he was making the right choice? How much trouble was his gang in? Whatever it was, it wasn't worth this or any child's life, he was sure of it, but it didn't mean he didn't want to help them either. They were his family, Greef was right about that.

His two-hour nap in the USC parking lot that morning started feeling like a long lost memory after another four hours of mindless driving on empty roads. It was late afternoon by then, and the sun was beating hard on the driver side of the car. This part of central California was dry and inhospitable. He almost wished for some traffic to occupy himself. Outside of a city called Newman, he spotted a drive-thru, and hoped the food and coffee would wake him up. The kid, done napping for now, didn't ask for his burger, but Mando still gave him half his fries. It was probably not very healthy at his age, but he clearly seemed to enjoy them.

He decided to put on the radio then, hoping the last two hours of the journey would go quickly. But the music he found either annoyed the kid or made him sleepier. He finally settled on a soccer game, commented in Spanish. Although he didn't really care who was playing, he was soon engrossed in the action. So engrossed that he didn't hear the boy at first.

"Papa?"

Mando lowered the sound, certain he hadn't heard him correctly. But the word was repeated. There was a clear interrogation point at the end of the name, but it still made his heart skip a beat. He realized that the kid was probably reacting to the voice on the radio, speaking in Spanish.

"No soy tu papá, cariño," Mando still told him softly.