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The stubbornness he used to chide her for. The single-minded focus he used to try and break through his teasing. The drive to accomplish exactly the path set in front of her. It was all still there, more than a decade later.
So, too, were the things he’d been attracted to as a teenager. The soft glow that caused her topaz eyes to glitter when she got truly excited about something. The fierce protectiveness that took complete care of and responsibility for anyone in her inner circle. And the petite frame that made her look like a tiny, sweet package, like a dulce de leche candy you could tuck in your pocket and carry with you. Looking at Gloria, people might first disregard her—until they later learned they did so at their own peril.
He’d figured she’d changed over the years, like everyone did, although he hadn’t been close enough in a long time to know for sure.
But now back, face-to-face with the woman who appeared in all of his best memories—and at the center of his worst—Rigo saw nothing had changed.
She was a truly unique mixture of dewdrop soft and hurricane fierce.
The wind seemed to be slowing outside. Rigo left the room and sat at the top of Inez’s staircase, watching the water level bob and shake around the steps below. Swarms of bugs floated on top in little clumps. He checked his watch. It was 2:00 a.m.
Rigo’s ears noticed a change outside. He clicked the switch on the old weather radio he’d brought out of the room with him, hoping it would spring to life and confirm what he thought was about to happen.
“The National Weather Service is reporting that the eye of Hurricane Hope will make landfall soon. Citizens of Port Provident are still encouraged to exercise extreme caution during this time.”
Rigo shut off the radio. He’d heard exactly what he needed to hear.
“Gloria,” he shouted. “Gather up what you need. Everyone needs to put on their sturdiest shoes, quickly. The eye of the storm is almost here. While it’s calm, we’re going to move as fast as we can and take Tanna and the baby to the command center at the Grand Provident Hotel. It’s the safest place on the island for them. For all of us.”
From the bedroom, he heard his aunt’s steady voice. “I told you He’d calm the storm.”
Rigo didn’t want to point out that every hurricane had an eye. It would have been disrespectful to suggest such a thing out loud. Besides, he didn’t have any time to waste.
Wading through the chest-deep water in the front of the house, Rigo tried not to think about the possibility of rats or snakes taking refuge in the living room. He’d already seen the bugs, small armies that had hitched themselves together to float in baseball-sized groups. That was enough. He reached blindly below the surface of the water, trying to grab the doorknobs to the double doors and force them open. The water level was the same outside as inside. Dormer windows and the angles and points of roofs were all that he could see on the smaller one-story craftsman-style homes and cottages. Everything looked like children’s toys in a very dirty bathtub.
“Is everyone ready? We’ve got to go.”
At the top of the stairs, Rigo could make out three dim shadows. Inez stood in front, with Gloria providing a steadying hand behind the older woman’s elbow. “Tanna, stay here. I’ll come back to help you and the baby,” Gloria said.
Rigo stood on the bottom stair and tried to hold the small johnboat steady where it floated, tethered to the banister.
“Gloria, reach out and hold the boat. I’ll come up and lift Tía in.”
He switched places with Gloria. Even though she stood two steps up from where Rigo had been, the water came almost to her chin. But she kept a steady grip on the lip of the boat, pushing it up against a wall for steadiness. Rigo lifted Inez and slowly turned on the step, careful not to slip and fall. He sat her gently on the small platform in the front.
“Ok, Tía, can you make it to that second little bench? Just hold on tight. Crawl if you need to.”
Inez nodded her head and began to inch, crab-like, toward the back of the little craft. “I can do it.”
“Stay there, Gloria. I’ll get Tanna.” Rigo walked to the top of the stairs, water rolling down his back. He’d spent most of his life in the water, surfing and lifeguarding, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever been as thoroughly soaked as he was right now.
Carefully, he picked up the dozing bundle from Tanna’s arms. Her eyes widened with fear—not only for herself, but for her new child. “I’m going to hand him to Tía,” he said.
Step by step, he made it down the slick wooden stairs. “Hola, Mateo,” he whispered. “It’s okay. You’re going to be safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
It scared Rigo to think about the five of them floating in the small boat through what had been the streets of Port Provident, especially if the eye was narrow and closed soon. But he was even more scared to keep a newborn and its mother in a flooded, bug-infested house with half a hurricane still left to go.
As he stretched to meet Tía’s open arms with their most precious cargo, Rigo silently prayed for a wide eye that would give them the time they needed. Little Mateo was on board. Time to get Tanna.
Her feet were unsteady. Placing an arm under her knees and one under her arms, Rigo scooped her up and made his way down the stairs again. Resting her on the front platform, he tried to scoot her as far in as possible. He held her hand as she wobbled toward the seat next to Tía, then took her baby back in her arms.
Only one more passenger to get aboard and then they could leave.
“Let me help you, Gloria.” The boat started to bob once she lifted her hand off the hull.
Rigo put his hands around Gloria’s waist tightly. He remembered picking her up and swinging her around during summers at the beach. There wasn’t anything else similar to those days right now, except confirmation of his earlier train of thought.
In more ways than one, Gloria hadn’t changed a bit.
On the other hand, he sure hoped he had.
He’d been to places he wasn’t proud of and done plenty of things he’d regretted, and one day, he knew he’d need to come clean to Gloria if there was any hope of putting things right between them. But for now, he’d do the next best thing and keep her—and those who depended upon her—safe.
Gloria settled on the small bench seat next to Tanna. Rigo untied the boat from the railing, turned it around and swam behind, pushing it through the oversize frame of the turn-of-the-century door. The edges of the boat brushed the edges of the door. It barely fit, with only a feather’s width to spare.
“Everyone duck.” The women in the boat bent their heads low. Their bodies cleared the top of the door frame by just about a foot.
Tying the boat hastily to the railing of the porch, Rigo climbed up on the rail, then worked his way into the boat, untying it once he was safely inside. He sat in the back next to the trolling motor and fired it up. He was soaked to the bone with sticky, salty brackish water.
“Everyone ready?”
No one replied. The only affirmation was the nodding of heads. Everyone indicated they were ready, but like Rigo, he imagined none of them knew exactly what for.
The sky on the horizon line glowed teal, almost as crisp and shining as the water off the Baja Peninsula on Mexico’s Pacific Coast, where he’d once loved to surf. He’d never seen colors like that in the air before. Above him, he could see stars. A few seagulls squawked and circled overhead, likely as disoriented as he was.
“The eye of the storm. Not many people on earth can say they’ve seen this,” he said to the passengers.
Gloria looked up at the sky, her face showing amazement in the soft moonlight and turquoise glow. Tanna kept her head down, looking at baby Mateo.
They headed south toward the Grand Provident Hotel, where Rigo hoped there would be power from backup generators, some drinking water and a plan.
Inez’s hands were folded serenely in her lap. She didn’t intently stare like Gloria, nor was she avoiding the view like Tanna. She seemed calm, almost like this was an everyday occurrence for her. A gust of wind touched the back of Rigo’s soaked shirt giving him a chill, and he could see Gloria’s short hair ruffling with the breeze.
This respite from the chaos wouldn’t last much longer. They needed something stronger than just himself to get them all to the Grand Provident, but even after Inez’s words to them all earlier, he knew he couldn’t do what his heart was telling him to do. Not in front of Gloria. He didn’t know exactly why. He’d started attending the earliest services at La Iglesia de la Luz del Mundo—that service chosen specifically because he knew Gloria attended the later service, and he hadn’t wanted to cause a scene or be in her way.
“Hey, Tía, I think you’d better pray.”
“I have been all night.” She smiled a knowing smile. “Haven’t you noticed He’s been here?”
Rigo’s hand slipped a bit off the motor’s handle. He hadn’t quite thought of it that way. Mateo broke the night’s temporary stillness with a little wail, a further reminder that he had come into the world with a healthy set of lungs.
Even though he had to navigate through the help of street signs just barely poking their green metal rectangles above the waterline, the trip was relatively uneventful and took less time than Rigo had planned.
They motored up to the parking lot behind the hotel. Rigo hopped overboard and waded to a palm tree, where he tied the boat. He saw others with flashlights standing on the wall surrounding the pool area of the hotel, presumably also watching the once-in-a-lifetime experience of standing inside a hurricane’s eye wall. He waved his own flashlight in signal to the group above. Two men threw their legs over the wall and started down the side of the waterlogged hill to come help.
Maybe Tía Inez was right. Maybe—just maybe—Rigo observed, God really had been with them all night.
* * *
A few emergency doctors from Provident Medical Center had assembled a small clinic inside of one of the meeting rooms in the hotel. They quickly escorted Tanna and the baby up. One doctor insisted on checking Tía Inez out, as well. Gloria handed over her notes from the birth, relieved to have other medical professionals confirm that both baby and mother—and aunt—had checked out fine. Assured that the two women and youngest refugee would be taken care of and transported to a hospital on the mainland for observation as soon as the storm cleared, Gloria let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d even been holding.
The past several hours had all run together. All of her training had kicked in and she’d just done what she needed to do. But now the immediate danger was no longer resting squarely on her shoulders and they were safe, surrounded by local officials, police and doctors in the safest building in town and she could release that burden. Gloria tried, but she couldn’t even feel relief. All she felt was tired.
Inez reached toward Gloria from the couch she had been instructed to lie on. “Gloria, come here.”
Gloria slipped her hand into the older woman’s thin grasp. Her hand felt cold. So much time spent in wind and rain. Gloria wondered if any of them would ever be dry or warm again. Or safe. Would the memories of tonight mark them all forever?
“How are you feeling, Inez?”
“Like a drowned rat.” The older woman shuddered, making her gray hair shake. “I think I saw a few on the boat ride over here, too. Yuck. But they’re bringing me some dry clothes. That should help. I think they’re bringing some for you, too.”
Gloria wondered what kind of dry clothes they had in a hurricane command center. Probably not anything that would show up on a catwalk—in Paris, France, or Paris, Texas. “I’m glad you’re okay, Inez.”
Inez smiled. The deep lines around her face stretched out, and Gloria could see the neighborhood beauty she used to be. “You don’t have to be afraid to be around Rigo, you know.”
“I’m not afraid of him.” Gloria tried not to snap. Just because she didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary around him didn’t mean she was afraid of him.
“You’re afraid of something. You know, God doesn’t give you a spirit of fear. He gives strength to His people.”
The corner of Gloria’s mouth twisted downward. She didn’t want to talk about God and she didn’t want to speak badly about the woman’s favorite nephew, but Inez had to know the history. Everyone in the La Misión neighborhood knew the story behind Gloria and Rigo, from high school until after Felipe’s death.
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