G-157 (35 page)

Epilogue

Saturday August 21, 2010

Fifteen miles west of Flagstaff, Arizona
 

Aire sat on the porch of her one room cabin drinking tea. She’d had a good night and slept all the way through, a rare thing over the last few months. For the first few weeks
,
she’d wake up from a terrible nightm
are of her last days in
John’s T
own several times a night covered in sweat. Now they were down to one nightmare a night, and on occasion she had none. She hoped that one day she’d have beautiful dreams again, but for now a full night of sleep was good enough for her.

The community, this place of refuge Jackson had directed her to, was composed mainly of illegal Hispanic families. They lived together in run down cabins and trailers in the woods. Some of them had jobs and were saving money to get their own home. Mostly the dreams of the people were that their children would get an education and a nice job so that they could one day provide a comfortable home for their own families.

It was the children Aire mainly spoke to as most of the adults spoke only Spanish. She was learning the language at a rapid pace, but communication was difficult at times. She was glad she had it though. For the first few weeks after her arrival, Aire spent most her the time by herself, speaking little as she observed this new culture. Over time she grew more comfortable, but never mentioned her past.

She’d taken on a new identity as well, and was now known only as Marie. The community had accepted her as one of
t
he
i
r own, and she began to think of these people as her new family. It was pleasant here, peaceful and safe
, and most important, it was real
.

There were a couple of old white hobos that would come and go
on occasion
. She felt uneasy around them, but not
threatened. The man at the river
, Harris Chadwick, had taken noticed of her discomfort and spoke to them about it. From then on they avoided Aire completely.

Harris Chadwick owned over a hundred square acres of the Coconino forest
that
the community settled in. Other than that, the members of the community knew very little about him other than the fact that he was a terrible fisherman, but could hold his own in a poker game
and was always ready to lend a helping hand and offer a beer to anyone in need
. Aire liked that
about him. He had his own secrets and respected those of others. The only secret Aire wished she knew more about was herself.

Her secret was what she’d do next. She had grown fond of the community, but too many questions would arise over time. Someone could come looking for her, and she was afraid of what they’d do if they found her. She would have to move, and keep moving. But there was a joy in that; she was free now. She could go wherever she wanted, though she had no idea where that might be.

“Hola, Marie!”

Aire’s thoughts were interrupted by the heavy set woman in a flowered dress walking by, a basket of tomatoes
in hand
and two small children in tow. Aire smiled and waved at the woman. “Hola, Maricela.”

“How
is baby?
” she asked in a slow, heavy Spanish accent.

“Dormir,” Aire said, pressing her palms together and resting her head on them.

“Ah, sleeping,” the woman replied. “And mama, how she?”

“I’m okay,” Aire nodded. “Just having trouble sleeping.”

“You no sleep?”

“Si.”

The woman rubbed her sun worn cheeks with a chubby hand. “I see, I see. Drink caliente, eh,
hot
tomillo. Drink hot tomillo tea. Good for sleep and make for good dream. Not drink so much. Too mas, too
much
, is bad for baby.”

Ai
re nodded and smiled. “Gracias
. I’ll try that.”

“You welcome. Buenos dias, Marie.”

“Buenos dias.”

Aire’s hand rubbed the small bump forming in her stomach. Whatever she was going to do, she needed to decide quickly. In a few short months she wouldn’t be making her journey alone.