Rule #14 #2
Should I tell him it’s over? Tell him I know about his Puerto Rican side piece? Demand an explanation?
The bathroom door suddenly bursts open, with a loud crash and a roar. A bright light shines in my eyes. I scream, throw my hands up to shield my face, and throw my phone in the process.
My scream is followed by a fit of giggles. Crispi is laughing and slapping his knee.
“Damn it, Crispi! What the Heck!”
Sonny is standing behind him, mouth tight, looking uncomfortable.
“Oh my god, I got you so good! You should’ve seen your face. Like El Diablo del Hurricane was coming for your soul.”
I roll my eyes and look around to see where my phone has landed. “I swear to God, if I cracked my phone screen because of you, I’ll…” I stop suddenly, spotting my phone, its screen intact but now black, lying in the bucket of water we are supposed to use to flush our waste.
SONNY
I don’t think scaring Cai was a good idea, but Crispi obviously thinks his plan to burst in on Cai was pure comedic genius. Who was I to tell him not to? The joke lands with the intended reaction, though I think he might be laughing a little harder than it deserves.
Now Cai is standing there, eyes fixed on a bucket next to the tub, with a look of horror spreading over her face. I scan the flashlight-lit room, trying to see what the problem is.
Cai manages to get a few words out. “Crispi, fuck! What the hell, man?! My phone!”
Crispi cranes his neck to watch as Cai pulls out her cellphone with two fingers.
“Oh dang,” Crispi says, realizing the results of his prank. “Whoops.”
Cai is futilely wiping it on her dress and touching the screen. “Why do you have to fuck with me?! Life’s not always a game!” Her voice is an octave higher than I’ve heard it.
“Calm down, it’s not a big deal. It’s not like we had a signal.”
“I did! I actually had a signal for a second! And now…” She looks at the black screen again and says, “Fuck!”
“Ok, so what? What did you have to do with the two seconds of signal you had that you couldn’t wait a few hours?”
I feel for Cai, but I am wondering why she’s freaking out so hard. She looks to be on the verge of tears.
“Some of us have people texting us,” She says, hands on her hips.
She does?
“Some of us have people we care about who aren’t under this roof, and now I’ve lost the only means to communicate with him.”
Ouch. That one stings. I thought we were on the “hate the BF bandwagon” together. Sounds like I am on there alone, and she is on “caring” terms with him. I thought he hadn’t texted. Has that changed?
I blurt out, “He texted you?”
Cai’s eyes dart from me to her brother and back. “Yeah, of course.”
I can feel the jealousy bubbling up. I push it back down.
She is not yours, I tell myself as I take a deep breath. I want to ask more, but I know I can’t in front of Crispi.
Crispi puts up his hands defensively. “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d flip out and throw your phone. Let me see if I have a signal, and you can use my phone.”
Cai puts up her hand, dismissing the idea.
“No, thanks, you’ve done enough.”
With that, she pushes past him and walks down the hall toward the main living area.
Crispi rolls his eyes, looking exasperated. “She’s so dramatic.”
I look after her.
Crispi adds, “I’d better go help her; she’s not going to double back to grab a flashlight, but without a flashlight she’s not going to be able to see a thing.”
“I’ll go,” I offer.
I’m not sure I want to get answers to my many burning questions, but I don’t think I can keep myself from asking.
“Yeah, that’s probably better. I don’t think I’m her favorite person right now.” Crispi says quickly before leaving me to chase down Cai.
Cai hasn’t gotten far. She’s stumbling, hands out in front of her, on her way to the kitchen. I don’t say anything, but I hand her the flashlight.
“Thanks,” she says. “Sorry.”
“For what?” I’m not being polite. I really need to know what she is apologizing for.
She looks embarrassed for a moment. “You know, just like freaking out and stuff. I guess I’m on edge.”
I nod, hoping she’ll continue. I’m willing her to keep going. I want her to tell me she was just saying those things to maintain the pretense. That she doesn’t care about the text. Or that the text was a goodbye one. She says none of those things.
Instead, she holds up her phone and says, “So I guess this is done.”
“Do you have any rice? Like uncooked?”
She tilts her head and looks at me quizzically. “With the way my family eats it, I’m surprised we don’t have a silo of it out back.”
She leads me to the kitchen, opens a lower cabinet, and pulls out a huge Tupperware as tall as her hip, with wheels and a scooper on top. “Ok, here’s rice,” she says. “Now what?”
Five minutes later, we have the cellphone in a bowl covered with rice.
“That’s it?” She asks, looking at it closely as if expecting it to do something magical in front of her that she might miss if she blinks.
“Now we wait for the rice gremlins to accept our offering of water and fix it for us.”
Cai looks over at me skeptically. “Ha ha,” she says, not amused.
I smile. I think I’m funny anyway. “Given time, the rice will dry out the moisture. It should be fine, but it takes a few hours.”
She grunts in understanding and goes back to watching the rice.
“Do you want to tell me about the text?” I ask because it is obvious she won’t offer the information freely.
“God no!” She says and stands up straight. “I don’t want to think about or talk about that text.”
I don’t know if this should give me hope or make me push harder. Why won’t she just tell me?
She shakes out her hands and then runs them through her tousled hair. “Can we do or talk about anything else for now?”
My mind jumps to her silhouette I saw earlier. That is the only thing I want to focus on if talking about that text isn’t an option.
The storm lets out a conciliatory bellow, sensing the turmoil inside me. Between the well-timed closet blackout and the wind playing the soundtrack of my soul, I am beginning to think that the hurricane is on my side.