Chapter Seventeen
CACHI
The days spent in the FBI’s safehouse passed slowly.
Since I’d always worked two jobs, it was difficult to do nothing.
I was used to being active, and being faced with idleness took a lot of getting used to.
I threw myself into working in the garden outside, slowly but surely making the overgrown space into a place where my family could sit and enjoy the summer evenings.
Camarillo, California had a mild climate and the backyard of the house was high in the hills and north facing, meaning that it had a nice view of the rolling hillsides planted with rows and rows of crops.
I set up hummingbird feeders and went to work on an old redwood table and chairs, sanding, staining, and varnishing them so they’d be useful.
When it cooled down, my tio would cook carne asada on the grill and we’d eat outside.
After finishing my hard work each night, I’d go outside, usually with a strong cup of coffee, and gaze out over the hills while I thought of Rex.
I missed him like crazy and no matter how I tried to put him out of my mind, it was not possible.
Every time I got a visit from one of the FBI guys, I asked how his recovery was going.
I just couldn’t help myself. I hung on every word, wanting to know if he was starting to get feeling to the lower half of his body back.
The longer time went on, the more I fretted that the paralysis would be permanent but felt better that everyone was still hopeful Rex would fully recover.
I spent a lot of time with my mamá on those summer evenings, listening to her chatter about her favorite characters from the telenovelas that she and Carlotta watched every day.
They worked side by side in the kitchen, always preparing extra food just in case someone from Rex’s team came to visit.
They often sent them back with containers of leftovers which I prayed would make it to Rex.
I really wanted to send messages to him, but Mamá told me I shouldn’t.
She said Rex was trying to concentrate on his recovery, and when I took the time to examine that truth, I knew she was right about not being a distraction.
The secure laptop the FBI had given us, was a lifeline. I spent time looking up everything I could about recovering from bullet wounds and paralysis. It was torture, but in my opinion, very necessary to know.
I prayed a lot as well, though, before Rex’s attack, I’d only spent time in church when I took Mamá to Mass.
It wasn’t something I needed after I’d realized I was gay, since most organized religions looked down on homosexuality.
The Catholic church was more tolerant of gay people now, but I still never felt completely at home when I went to Mass.
Much to my mamá’s dismay, I gave up going to confession too, years ago.
But every Sunday, we attended an online service in Spanish which appealed to my family.
It wasn’t the same but it was for our protection.
One evening, almost eight weeks into our stay at the safehouse, Marcello came to visit us.
I hadn’t seen him since that last day in the hospital when Rex had sent me away, so I was very happy to see him.
I’d just gotten out of the shower and walked down the hallway when I heard him talking to Mamá and my heart sped up.
I raced into the living room as he hugged her.
They broke apart and Marcello wore one of his broad smiles.
“Hey, Cachi. It’s so good to see you.” He opened his arms, and I rushed into them, hugging him back, comforted by the solid feel of my friend.
“Is good to see you too, Marcello.”
“Long time no see,” he said as he looked me up and down.
He reached up and tousled my damp curls.
“You look good.” I nodded and for a few seconds, we just looked at each other.
We’d been friends a long time, so the drawn out silence of simply staring at each other felt strange.
Somehow, knowing that he was an FBI agent, made me feel almost timid around him.
We hadn’t talked about how he’d become an agent.
“You look good too, Marcello.”
“Cachi, I make coffee,” Mamá said, wearing a wide smile. “Marcello, he bring you present.”
I looked over my shoulder and smiled at her.
“Gracias, Mamá.” I watched her disappear into the kitchen and glanced back at Marcello.
“You bring me present?” I was so hopeful it was a letter or a message from Rex, but when my friend didn’t reach into his pocket and pull out an envelope, all hope of that faded.
Instead, he nodded and turned, walking back to the foyer where a square object sat on the tile floor.
It was covered by a drape of some sort. I followed him, stopping as he bent to pick it up.
I realized there was some sort of handle beneath the drape. He held it out to me.
“Here you go. I thought you might like them.”
I took the object, noticing it weighed almost nothing. “What it is?”
“Look and see,” he replied, grinning like a mad man.
I eyeballed him for a few seconds and then carried it over to the couch, setting it on the coffee table before pulling the drape off.
Inside a small cage, were two tiny, brightly colored birds.
One was yellow and the other green. They had orange beaks and the moment I uncovered them, they began to chirp.
I lit up with happiness as I watched them flitting along a perch which was actually a smooth stick running horizontally across the cage.
I laughed in delight as one of them jumped toward me, wrapping tiny little feet around one of the cage’s front bars.
He cocked his head to the side, waggling it back and forth as he eyeballed me with shiny, black eyes, chirping as he greeted me.
“Oh, Marcello, the birds are so cute.” I reached down to stick a finger through the cage. The little bird jumped back onto the perch and began arguing with his companion. It made me laugh. For the first time since I’d been in the safehouse, I felt truly happy.
“The green one is Pippin and the yellow one is Thor,” Marcello said, pointing to each one, “but you can call them whatever you want.”
I laughed, looking into the cage as I held my finger out to the green guy.
“Hola, Pippin.” He jumped to the front of the cage and then back on the perch, repeating the little action over and over, as if saying hello right back.
I watched them for a few minutes, thinking about how much Rex would like them, and wondering how Lola would react if she ever got the chance to see them.
When I glanced up at Marcello, he was watching me.
“Thank you for present, Marcello. I love them.”
He shrugged. “I know it has to be lonely up here on the hill, so I wanted to bring you something to brighten your day. He pointed at a small, plastic box in the cage. “They have food here, but you’ll have to get more after this is gone.” He reached into his jacket and withdrew a small bag of birdseed, handing it to me.
“Just change their water and the liner for the cage every day and keep them out of the heat. It’s too hot outside, so keep them in the house.
They really like sunshine so you can put the cage near the window unless it’s really hot there.
They like to watch other birds during the day…
and make sure you cover them at night so they can sleep. ”
I nodded. “I love them, Marcello. Is nice present.”
I looked up as Mamá walked back in carrying a tray. When she saw the cage, she began to laugh. I took the tray from her as she bent over to examine the birds the way I’d done. “Los pajaros son tan dulces!”
“Si, Mamá, the birds they are sweet,” I agreed.
“Pippin and Thor,” Marcello said, pointing to each bird.
“Aye, Dios mio!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together with a girly laugh. “Precioso.” She looked at my friend. “Gracias…thank you, Marcello.” She handed a coffee cup to him, and pointed at the cream and sugar, but he waved her off.
“Gracias.”
“De nada.” She handed me a cup after pouring a little cream in.
“Gracias, Mamá.”
She nodded then looked at Marcello. “Are you hungry? I have a lot of food.”
Marcello smiled and rubbed his belly. “Oh, no thank you, Mrs. Adams. I ate.”
“Okay. I go to kitchen.” She smiled sweetly and left us.
“Your mom is really nice.”
I looked up from the birds which I’d been watching, fascinated by their endless energy. “She is good lady.”
He stared at me before sighing and taking a sip of coffee before sitting back. “I know you want to ask me about Rex. Go ahead.”
I felt tears prick the back of my eyes at the mention of his name, but I held them at bay as I managed to nod. “Si. How is he?”
He blew out a long breath. “He’s coping…
better, I guess.” When I opened my mouth to ask the burning question, he held up a hand, shaking his head.
“No, he still can’t walk. Candy and Mickey saw him today.
He has no feeling below the waist yet, but everyone is still hopeful the paralysis isn’t permanent.
The doctor sees him every day and they do tests.
They still seem to think it’s spinal shock.
The spinal cord wasn’t transected—cut—and they say that’s very good news.
It might take time for the nerves to heal, so there is hope.
We’re all hoping for a good outcome. You understand, don’t you, Cachi? ”
“Si, Marcello. I understand.”
“Anyway…” He trailed off, looking around the room. “For now, all we can do is pray.”
“And the cartel?” I wanted any news I could get. I really wanted to go home. Maybe if I was closer to Rex, he’d let me visit. I hated the way we’d parted, especially how angry he’d been the last time I’d seen him.
He smiled. “We’re making progress. Hopefully, we’ll be able to finish that situation soon, but I can’t talk about it, Cachi. I’m really sorry.”
I nodded. “Okay, you tell me if we can go home, yes?”