sleeping.”
“Damn it, Rodrigo.”
Christopher ran out of the hostel and got into his jeep. There were two dirt roads going around the surrounding jungle and he chose the one closest the hostel and began to drive. The road winded through the jungle but the vegetation was so thick he couldn’t see more than a few feet in.
He drove the entire length of road anyway and then went back and took the other one. He drove for two hours and then decided that it was pointless. He went back to the hostel and thought that perhaps Patrick had gone with Jane and as he was about to call around to the various hotels to find her, he noticed something on the ground near a bush. He went and picked it up; it was a leaf with some dried blood spattered across it. He stared at it like it could tell him something.
The police would be no help; they didn’t care about this neighborhood. There was only one place in the city he could think to turn to.
*****
Seven year old Francisca sat at the piano, licking her ice cream cone, as the instructor went through the various notes. She had been taking lessons now for two months but this was the first time that the man in the wheelchair was here. He said hello to her when she had walked in and he smiled to her whenever she looked back to him. He was nice and he had sent the large man with the tattoos out to get her an ice cream.
She understood English well as her mother had been teaching her at home so she knew something was wrong when the other man ran inside.
“Patrick’s missing,” the other man said. “I need your help to find him.”
“Missing where?” the man in the wheelchair said.
“If I knew where he wouldn’t be missing.”
“Don’t get your pussy in a bunch, remember who you’re talking to.”
“I know, I’m sorry it’s just he was really drunk and I left him at our hostel in Valparaiso and—”
“Valparaiso? What the hell were you doing there? I have two rooms reserved for you at the Hotel del Mar above the casino.”
“Oh. You never told us that.”
“My assistant texted you the information. Go get your bags and check in there. Valparaiso’s no place for you two.”
“I know, that’s why I’m worried about Patrick.”
“Does he have any women?”
“One, but I stopped there first and she wasn’t there.”
“Could he be at a whore house?”
“No, that’s not like him.”
“Stewart?” the man yelled out. The muscular man with tattoos came over. Francisca couldn’t hear what they said then as the piano instructor had her put down her ice cream and begin to practice, but the men left after that.
Before leaving, the man in the wheelchair smiled and said that he would see her again.
----
26
Hunger made Patrick’s stomach growl. They had been in the tent for hours and evening was now falling. He looked out to Jane’s tent as much as possible, making sure she was okay, although he wasn’t certain what he would do if she wasn’t.
Darren had been wrong. The guards left or slept or read all the time. They were antsy the entire day until two other men came and relieved them. Ex-military would have better discipline. These guys were just amateur bandits trying to make a quick buck.
As darkness began to fall outside fires were lit around the camp. Meat and canned foods were being cooked and beer was brought out. Patrick sat quietly and waited. He saw Martín outside getting drunk, but no food came for him.
After the men had finished eating, a few scraps were gathered together on a large platter. A portion was given first to two mangy dogs, then some was dumped in Jane’s tent, then the rest dumped into Patrick’s tent. A jug of dirty river water was brought out and placed next to the scraps. Darren and his wife began to eat but it churned Patrick’s stomach. Some of the food was portions that the men had chewed and spit out or the leftovers that had crusted onto their paper plates.
“So,” Darren said, “what do you do?”
The question
“Damn it, Rodrigo.”
Christopher ran out of the hostel and got into his jeep. There were two dirt roads going around the surrounding jungle and he chose the one closest the hostel and began to drive. The road winded through the jungle but the vegetation was so thick he couldn’t see more than a few feet in.
He drove the entire length of road anyway and then went back and took the other one. He drove for two hours and then decided that it was pointless. He went back to the hostel and thought that perhaps Patrick had gone with Jane and as he was about to call around to the various hotels to find her, he noticed something on the ground near a bush. He went and picked it up; it was a leaf with some dried blood spattered across it. He stared at it like it could tell him something.
The police would be no help; they didn’t care about this neighborhood. There was only one place in the city he could think to turn to.
*****
Seven year old Francisca sat at the piano, licking her ice cream cone, as the instructor went through the various notes. She had been taking lessons now for two months but this was the first time that the man in the wheelchair was here. He said hello to her when she had walked in and he smiled to her whenever she looked back to him. He was nice and he had sent the large man with the tattoos out to get her an ice cream.
She understood English well as her mother had been teaching her at home so she knew something was wrong when the other man ran inside.
“Patrick’s missing,” the other man said. “I need your help to find him.”
“Missing where?” the man in the wheelchair said.
“If I knew where he wouldn’t be missing.”
“Don’t get your pussy in a bunch, remember who you’re talking to.”
“I know, I’m sorry it’s just he was really drunk and I left him at our hostel in Valparaiso and—”
“Valparaiso? What the hell were you doing there? I have two rooms reserved for you at the Hotel del Mar above the casino.”
“Oh. You never told us that.”
“My assistant texted you the information. Go get your bags and check in there. Valparaiso’s no place for you two.”
“I know, that’s why I’m worried about Patrick.”
“Does he have any women?”
“One, but I stopped there first and she wasn’t there.”
“Could he be at a whore house?”
“No, that’s not like him.”
“Stewart?” the man yelled out. The muscular man with tattoos came over. Francisca couldn’t hear what they said then as the piano instructor had her put down her ice cream and begin to practice, but the men left after that.
Before leaving, the man in the wheelchair smiled and said that he would see her again.
----
26
Hunger made Patrick’s stomach growl. They had been in the tent for hours and evening was now falling. He looked out to Jane’s tent as much as possible, making sure she was okay, although he wasn’t certain what he would do if she wasn’t.
Darren had been wrong. The guards left or slept or read all the time. They were antsy the entire day until two other men came and relieved them. Ex-military would have better discipline. These guys were just amateur bandits trying to make a quick buck.
As darkness began to fall outside fires were lit around the camp. Meat and canned foods were being cooked and beer was brought out. Patrick sat quietly and waited. He saw Martín outside getting drunk, but no food came for him.
After the men had finished eating, a few scraps were gathered together on a large platter. A portion was given first to two mangy dogs, then some was dumped in Jane’s tent, then the rest dumped into Patrick’s tent. A jug of dirty river water was brought out and placed next to the scraps. Darren and his wife began to eat but it churned Patrick’s stomach. Some of the food was portions that the men had chewed and spit out or the leftovers that had crusted onto their paper plates.
“So,” Darren said, “what do you do?”
The question
Similar Books
