The next day, I had no choice but to go to my other jobs, no matter how unnerved I was. I was continually frightened by the fact that I might not have the option of quitting my employment to Señor Vasquez; he was the highest paying job I had and I cannot remember if I signed a contract or not…But just the thought of being with that menacing man again…
I shiver though the harsh sun beats down on my back.
I was thinking about Consuelo, hoping she was alright, wondering when I could visit her, when I saw a vaguely familiar person approach the fruit stand. He was tall and lanky, with dark messy hair and a hint of a mustache on his top lip. His hands were conspicuously in his pockets, grasping a knife, no doubt. Suddenly, the name came to mind, and I called out.
"Indio!" I said, loud enough to get his attention. His head shot up like a dog called by its master and he gave a gentle smile as he recognized me and came to where I sat, by the mangoes and papayas.
He glanced around cautiously before speaking to me.
"Anita, right?" he ventured and, when I nodded, he smiled again. "We met at a dance…sorry, it's just that was so long ago!"
"I know what you mean," I said. A pause. I had to tell him. "Consuelo…the two of you are together, aren't you?"
"Yes," he said quickly. "Yes, of course. Have you seen her today?"
I looked away. Customers were beginning to shoot us suspicious looks.
"Pretend you're looking at the mangoes," I instruct him under my breath. Instantly, he moves forward and traces his fingers over the skin of the fruit, even picks one up and tests its weight in his palm.
"Now," I continued, quietly, so only his ears could hear, "this will not be easy to hear. It's just, I thought you should hear it from me rather than find out unexpectedly." He pursed his lips and nodded slightly. I swear I saw the muscles in his arms tighten as he braced himself for whatever I had to say. I took a breath; still, the words, the fact had not sunken in completely.
"We were walking home from work last night," I began softly, "when a man we knew found us and threatened us, threatened me. When we ran away…he shot Consuelo."
I let a moment pass as his face paled and his hands began to shake.
"Shooting innocent women," he managed to stutter. "What has become of Puerto Rico?"
"There is still hope," I add quickly, seeing his eyes distant and scared. "She did not die immediately; the police took her to a hospital…the one downtown, I think. You should go see if she's…go see if she is alright. I would go myself, but if I leave I'll be fired and we need money now more than ever."
I took his hand in mine, just for an instant, and squeezed it reassuringly. When our hands parted, he began to walk away, tearing down the street and out of sight.
