THINGS FALL APART
After the Browns had left, Catalina went to her bedroom in the back of the house, thinking about what had just happened. Chief Brown had been right; the feared for argument with her dad hadn't materialized. He'd been uncharacteristically quiet, seemingly overwhelmed by Ed's offer of a job.
Catalina had neither homework nor a new book to read and decided to complete her story from this afternoon so she could show it to her teacher in the morning. She opened her backpack and reached in for the spiral. It wasn't there. Frantically she dumped the backpack's contents on her bed. It was gone, but where? Then she remembered. She had shown the Browns her pictures at the drive-in. She must have left it in their truck. How would she get it back? Cat jammed her fingers in her jeans pocket in frustration, touching something hard. It was the card she'd been given by la señora Brown. Fran, she reminded herself with a giggle. They were friends now. The card was her talisman. Maybe the school secretary would let her call her tomorrow. She could visit the museum, see the exhibit, and get her notebook back.
Hearing the sounds of another argument between her parents start to swirl outside her room, she decided not to get ready for bed but listen instead. Sometimes her mother came in after them, her face red and teary. Sometimes it was worse when her father was truly angry or drunk; she and her mother would leave to spend the night with friends. Grabbing some clean clothes, her books, and her favorite stuffed dog, Catalina dumped them into her bag, then she sat on the bed, hugging bony knees drawn up almost to her chest, listening to her parents argue in Spanglish, a combination of Spanish and English that almost everyone in her neighborhood spoke.
"The Chief que podía ayudar. He said he could help you. Please querido, tell him what happened, why we left California. We wouldn't always have to look over our shoulders. She could see her grandparents, my parents, our family again. We could have a life.
Catalina could hear the urgency in her mother's pleading. She hated hearing the sadness in her voice when she talked about her family in San Francisco.
"No es posible. Nunca, never. Gabby, your dad, doesn't understand what happened. He can't help me. Not when Pepe Alvarado said I stole from him. Eddie Rogers is an important man, but he's got nothing on Pepe."
"Mi amado, Catalina, and I would never have stayed with you if I'd thought you were a ladron, a thief, but it's been five years. It's time to reclaim your name and honor and settle this. let Chief Brown help you."
Catalina heard her father's voice trail off as once more her mother calmed her father.
"I'll think about it."
Hearing calm prevail, Catalina came out of the bedroom to say goodnight to her parents.
Pulling the covers over her, she fell asleep quickly but woke again to the sound of a booming knock on the door. "Montez! Open the frickin door, or I'll kick it in."
"Gabby, get the kid and get the hell outta here, now!" Pete shouted.
"Pete, why? What is it?"
The argument continued with a new voice added to her parents as Catalina heard the front door splinter open.
"Our employer has not been happy." The new voice said.
"I don't have it. Never did. I don't know who took that money."
Catalina was frozen in her bed when she heard a scream from her mother. Cautiously she eased herself to the door and cracked it open slightly. Her mother was sitting on the couch, her head bowed. Her father stood in the center of the room. A stranger faced him holding a gun. Catalina looked at him, memorizing his features. He didn't see her.
"That was the payment for the Lorca Valdez Syndicate shipment. Four-point eight million. Mr. Alvarado would like it back.
"If I had that, you think I might be livin' a little better than here?" Montez replied. "I don't blame him, but no lo tengo. I don't effin have it."
"Maybe your wife can help you remember." The man pulled her mother up off the battered sofa. Catalina saw her father stiffen.
"Get your hands off my wife."
There was the sound of a struggle: furniture breaking and glass shattering. A deafening roar filled the house, and then all was quiet. She heard her father scream, "Nooo."
There was more fighting noise and a second blast followed. She smelled gasoline. By the time the fireball consumed the house, Catalina was gone.