"Why?"
I debated, then said, "It's my name."
"Your name is David."
"David was my name in Kobuleti."
"I don't understand."
"It's all right. It's complicated. I promise I'll tell you about it sometime."
Tiasa looked at me, then to Cashel. "Yes, he tells me."
"I think I can help you," Cashel said. "I want to help you."
"Yes. He says this."
"Do you want my help?"
Tiasa nodded, just barely.
"I'm glad," Cashel said. "I'd like it if you would stay with me for a little while. I'd like you to meet some people, maybe have a chance to make some new friends. Some of them are your age. Some of them have been through bad times, the way you have. They might understand some of what you're feeling."
Tiasa looked confused, and again I translated.
"How long?" Tiasa asked me. "How long will I stay with her?"
"Only as long as you want," I said.
"I don't want to. I want to stay with you. I want to see Yeva."
"Yeva and I can't give you what you need right now, Tiasa. Sister Cashel can."
"I don't want you to leave."
"I'm going to come back," I said.
"What if you don't?" The question came quickly, as if she had been waiting to ask it, as if desperate to be let out. "You can't promise, you don't know what will happen. What if you don't come back? If you go away and you never come back? If you go away, like Papa and Mama and Koba?"
"You're right," I said. "I can't make you a promise and guarantee that I'll keep it. You're smart enough to know that. You're smart enough to know that no one can. I don't know what will happen, Tiasa, not tomorrow or next week or next year. All I know is what I will try to do. I followed you all the way from Kobuleti to find you. You know I mean what I say."
She closed her eyes, pained, nodded. Then, to my surprise, she threw her arms around my middle, pushing her face into my chest, the hug tight enough to hurt where the wound on my side was still struggling to heal. I didn't move for a moment, and then, very carefully, very lightly, I returned the hug.
When she let me go, she wiped her nose with her fingers, then turned to Cashel.
"Okay," she said in her fractured English. "I go with you."
CHAPTER
Thirty-six I was in New York another two days, and saw Tiasa on each of them. Cashel had arranged for her to stay at a shelter for abused and battered girls in the North Bronx, one of three her order ministered to. It was the kind of place that didn't advertise itself and relied on anonymity and secrecy for security, rather than guards and alarms, which was a good thing. Guards and alarms were likely to bring back bad memories for Tiasa.
The first day, I went with her and Cashel to visit a doctor. Cashel had prepared her for the visit as best she could, but Tiasa was miserable all the same; she knew why the examination was necessary, but honestly understanding the need for it didn't diminish the fact that she was being asked to, quite literally, open her legs to another stranger, even if the reason for it this time was quite different. Cashel hadn't yet been able to arrange for a translator, and as a result, I had to remain nearby, which I'm sure didn't help things.
The initial results came back quickly, and were as good as could be expected. She wasn't pregnant, and had scored negative on a broad spectrum of tests for venereal diseases. Blood had been drawn for an AIDS test, as well, but it would be another day at least before we knew anything there. The doctor confirmed that Tiasa had been abused, physically and sexually, and while all the news was delivered with clinical precision and professional compassion, it was very hard for me to hear. Somehow, Cashel didn't seem to have the same problem, and I envied her practiced serenity.
The next day, in the afternoon, I took them to lunch at a Chinese restaurant Cashel suggested, near the shelter. Tiasa ate some rice, and a lone steamed dumpling, and that was all. She didn't offer much in conversation, so I did most of the talking, alternating between Georgian and English, trying to keep Cashel in the loop.
Cashel told me that they'd located someone to help with translation, a woman who would be coming by later in the afternoon. I shared that information with Tiasa, and she shrugged. The only emotion I was reading off her was anger, and that just barely.
Men weren't allowed inside the shelter, so after the meal I drove them both back to the house, and made my goodbyes in the car.
"I'm leaving tonight," I told Tiasa. "To check on Yeva and Cashel's sister."
Tiasa stared at me, and I saw that the anger I'd sensed was now, at least for the moment, being directed my way. She unfastened her seatbelt and got out of the Jetta.
"Fine," Tiasa said, and then she slammed the door.
Cashel, in the backseat, leaned forward slightly. "It's going to take time."
"She thinks I'm abandoning her."
"I think she knows you're not. She hasn't even begun to talk about what happened to her. As I said, Atticus, it's going to take time."
I sighed. It wasn't that I didn't believe her. In addition to her holy vows, Cashel had a degree in social work, and far more experience dealing with the survivors of abuse and addiction than I. It was one of the things that had drawn her to become a nun, a calling that had come about as a direct result of witnessing the damage caused by her sister's addiction to heroin back when Bridgett was a teen. I trusted that she knew what she was talking about.
"You have to tell me," I said. "Is visiting going to do more harm than good?"
"I think it would be wise if you stayed away for a little while," Cashel replied, carefully. "You have confusing associations for her, and it may complicate things."
"Great."
"Keep in touch. And tell Bridgett to call when she gets back in town."
"I will," I said. "Thank you, Sister."
"You're a good man," she told me, then got out of the car and followed Tiasa into the house. I sold the car at a lot in Jersey City, got maybe a quarter of what I paid for it back, and used some of my new cash to take a cab out to Newark Airport, where Matthew Twigg was booked on a Lufthansa flight to Dublin via Frankfurt that evening. I'd made a point of divesting myself of anything incriminating earlier in the day, sending the weapons I'd collected into the Hudson River along with the keys and radios I'd taken from the New Paradise PD. After a moment's deliberation, I'd sunk Vladek Karataev's BlackBerry, too.
It had confusing associations for me. Before the flight, I used an international calling card to reach Bridgett and Alena in Ballygar. I gave them my flight details, told them they could expect me the following evening. Both were happy to hear the news, I thought, each for her own, separate, reasons.
The flight was long and uncomfortable, and the connection through Germany only made it worse. I tried sleeping, couldn't much manage it, and after three hours the battery on my battered and much-abused laptop gave up, leaving me alone with the in-flight entertainment and my thoughts. Mostly, I was worried for Tiasa, if I was doing right by her.
It was just past five in Dublin when we touched down, and by the time I'd cleared customs it was a quarter to seven and already dark. When I emerged into the baggage claim, I was surprised to see both Alena and Bridgett waiting for me.
"She thought we should come to get you," Bridgett said as I approached.
I made a beeline for Alena, feeling the smile come onto my face unbidden. She looked, to my eyes, great, better than when I'd finally caught up to her in Odessa. Maybe it was just the light, but I thought that the cliche about how pregnant women glow had to have some merit to it, because she certainly seemed to be doing so to me. She was also beginning to show, and my reaction to the sight of the slight bump at her belly took me by surprise, delighted me.
"Hello," Alena said.
I didn't bother to drop my bags, just wrapped my arms around her and kissed her.