“Good idea.”
“How about you?”
“I’ll be fine at my house, or here at the clinic. We have cots to set up. I want to be available to help. Dr. Hidalgo said the Red Cross arrived this morning. They are setting up shop at schools that will be used for shelters. The bad part will be flooding. Fortunately, most of the villages are on high ground in the surrounding mountains. The town is on enough of a rise, and it drains pretty well, so if we all don’t get blown away, we should be fine.”
A small man, a campesino, in white shirt and pants, came up while they were talking and stood humbly to the side of Dominic, who turned to see what he wanted. The man spoke in a low voice, and they exchanged a few words.
Dominic turned back to Elena. “I’ve got to help with someone who’s been hurt by flying debris. Will you wait here for me?”
“I’m going to take Miguel and walk to the police station. I need to talk to Connie. I’ll meet you back here.”
“Right. Take care of yourself.” He squeezed her shoulder, hesitant about leaving her. But the man called to him again, and he hurried out the door into the gusty wind.
Elena walked to where Miguel sat. “Hi there. What’re you doing?”
He shrugged, putting the Game Boy on the floor beside him.
“Let’s take a walk.” She held out her hand, and Miguel took it. One stop on their walk would be the little shop around the corner to buy some extra clothes for him.
Solid gray clouds plastered the sky, and drops of rain rode the wind. They hugged the buildings, trying to keep out of the wind and avoid other people doing the same. Shopkeepers were nailing plywood onto the doors of their establishments. The clothes shop was still doing business. Elena selected several pair of shorts, long pants, T-shirts and briefs that she held up to Miguel to see if they fit. He picked out colors he liked, blue being the favorite. The toy section caught Miguel’s attention, and he touched every toy on the shelf.
“What would you like?” Elena asked him.
He pointed to a soccer ball. “This one.”
“So you like soccer?”
He nodded enthusiastically.
“You shall have it.”
Elena paid for the purchases and handed the soccer ball to Miguel. The shopkeeper, an older woman with a salt and pepper braid, asked, “Is this your son?”
The question took Elena unawares. She looked down at Miguel, and he gazed back at her. Something in his eyes hoped for a mother.
“No,” Elena said, unable to give what was not hers to give, “this little man is my friend.”
Miguel turned away but not before Elena saw the letdown in his eyes. A wave of guilt swept over her that she had not at least pretended to be his mother.
“Where are we going?” asked Miguel, as he held tight to his new purchase. They walked in the direction of the police station, heads bent against the wind. Dark, ugly clouds hugged the lush, green mountains to the east of town.
“We’re going to see my friend, Connie. I need to talk to her.”
Miguel seemed okay with that, and he walked along holding her hand, hugging his soccer ball.
Outside the police station was a crowd of people, most in uniform. The Guardia Civil had been sent in. She circumvented the soldiers and asked a policeman if inspector Lascano was there.
“No, señorita, she is not. I do not know when she will return. She is helping organize security at the school shelters. Maybe you can find her there.” He gave directions to the nearest school, which was a walk of about four blocks.
“I know a shortcut to the school,” said Miguel.
“Okay, show me.”
They turned into an alleyway but not before Elena caught site of the man she had met at breakfast with her mother. He was standing on the corner of the street behind them, looking in their direction. He stepped into a store when she looked his way. She was sure it was the same man. Tall, thin. Though, she could be mistaken. She shook off an apprehensive feeling she chalked up to storm nerves and followed Miguel into the alley that led to the school. A rain squall pelted them, and they ran the rest of the way.
Some men stood in front of the school under the eaves, smoking. They waved Elena and Miguel inside to a registration desk. Two women with Red Cross arm bands sat behind a table.
“May we help you?” said the younger of the two.
“I’m looking for inspector Connie Lascano. Is she here?”
“I’m not sure,” said the older woman wearing 1950s-style rhinestone eyewear. “Pass inside, she might be there.”
Elena tugged Miguel along and walked into the auditorium. It was an elementary school, and the room was not large. She searched, craning her neck, walking back and forth.
A pleasant looking gentleman with an armband, who was stacking cartons of canned goods, asked if he could be of assistance.
“I’m looking for inspector Lascano. Is she here?”
The man looked around, doubtful. “I don’t think so.”
“I was told she was at a shelter working.”
“There is one other shelter. Maybe she is there.”
Elena was beginning to doubt the wisdom of trying to track down Connie. She wanted to tell her about Rolando and his motorcycle buddies and find out if they had identified the boy found in the river. She still had the St. Jude medal which probably wasn’t anything important, certainly not as important as a hurricane. Nothing was going to go forward until they all got through Hurricane Bob.
“I know where is the other school,” said Miguel.
“How far?”
“It is on the other side of the central plaza near the church.”
“That’s quite a hike in this weather. Maybe we better go back to the clinic.”
“I think so, too. It is raining harder.”
They stood at the entrance to the school under cover, watching rain pour straight down. Elena debated their options. They could go back to the clinic, they could go to the hotel to stay with her mother, or they could try to find Connie. If she decided to stay with her mother, she needed to go by doña Carolita’s house, pick up her computer and a few other things, and talk her into coming with them.
She should go by the clinic and tell Dominic what she was doing if she went to the hotel. But the thought of riding out a hurricane in the lap of luxury with her mother, somehow didn’t fit with the plight of the average person in this town. She could be of some use to Dominic. Maybe she could leave Miguel with her mother. But what if he took off?
The outer bands of Hurricane Bob swirled around Copan Ruinas and as quickly as the rain came, it eased off.
Elena made her decision. “Let’s run for it. We’ll go to the clinic. C’mon.”
They took off, holding hands, running down the middle of the street to avoid the streams of water rushing down the gutters by the side of the road. The wind buffeted them, spraying water into their faces, and a cardboard box bounced down the street with them.
A car, coming up from behind, tooted, and they ran single file to let it pass. The vehicle drew alongside, and the driver wound down the window. It was Jorge, the man from breakfast.
“Can I give you a ride? This is a bad day to be out for a run.”
Elena stopped for an instance. Miguel kept running, and she called to him to wait up.
Jorge smiled from behind the wheel of an early model, yellow Toyota eyesore, one headlight smashed in, which didn’t fit an art dealer image. Something about how he spoke, how he seemed to leer at her, made Elena uneasy.
“No thanks. We don’t have far to go, but thanks.” She waved and started running, caught up to Miguel and grabbed his hand. The car kept coming behind them, its one head light flickering. Elena pulled Miguel over to the side walk and kept running.