Do Not Become Alarmed(32)

He had only known Isabel for a few days, but that didn’t matter. He was eleven and she was fourteen, but that didn’t matter either. When you were grown up, age difference was less important. When he was thirty and Isabel thirty-three, it wouldn’t matter at all.

There had been a picture on the television of Isabel in her yellow bikini, jumping into the pool, with her arms thrown back and her hair streaming. It gave Marcus a tingling, aching feeling. He had once thought he was in love with Hannelore, a girl in his music class, but that was nothing like this. He knew that Isabel thought of him as a child and paired him with Penny, like the grown-ups did. But Penny always had to be right, and win games, and tell everyone what to do.

In the entryway, he studied the deadbolt lock on the door that led outside. If they could just get out of this place, then he could get them back to the port. He knew what directions they had come. But the ship would have moved on to Panama by now. So maybe he could get to a police station, walk to the main road and flag down a car. Although flagging down the Jeep hadn’t worked so well.

And none of them had shoes. The main road was too long a walk without shoes.

He had just headed upstairs to find his sister when he heard someone come out of the other bedroom. Maria the housekeeper stood in the doorway with a cloth in her hand.

“Buenos días,” she said.

“Hi.”

“You okay?” she asked.

He nodded.

She peered past him, up the stairs. Then she leaned forward. “The girls okay?”

“I think so.” He hadn’t seen them yet this morning.

“Tell them have careful here,” she whispered.

“Okay.”

Maria looked at him unhappily. “Careful of Raúl,” she said. “You understand?”

“Can’t you just call our parents?”

She shook her head.

“Then can you open that door?”

But Maria was looking at something above him. Marcus turned to see Raúl standing at the top of the stairs.

“What are you doing?” Raúl called.

“Nothing,” Marcus said.

Raúl came downstairs, boots thudding on each step, his body filling the stairwell. Marcus withdrew and crouched.

“You’re talking to Maria?” Raúl said.

“Yes.”

“About what?”

“Just saying good morning.”

Raúl looked suspicious. “Go upstairs.”

“Why?”

“They are playing with Sancho.”

But the dog must have heard his name, because he came running down the stairs to his master’s side, panting and smiling. He sat proudly at Raúl’s feet.

“Ayii, tonto,” Raúl said, rubbing the dog’s head. “Okay, you come.”

He unlocked the door with the key from his pocket, went outside with the dog, and locked the door again from the outside.

Marcus watched the deadbolt slide shut. “Where’s he going?” he asked.

Maria shook her head.

Marcus ran up the stairs, noting June on the couch with the bunny, and found a window on the side of the house where the door was. He could see the security gate below. There was a police car parked outside the gate, and two uniformed policemen stood waiting. Marcus’s heart leaped. The policemen would ask to come in and search the house. Maybe they would even force their way past Raúl.

But then Raúl came into view, walking down the driveway, all swagger, the dog prancing at his side. He reached the gate and leaned against it, and the three men talked for a while. The policemen weren’t yelling. It looked like a friendly conversation. Raúl handed something to the policemen, through the gate. They both tucked whatever it was away, and talked a little longer, and shook Raúl’s hand. Then they turned to go.

“No!” Marcus cried. He pounded his fists on the window.

The policemen glanced up at the house. So did Raúl.

Marcus couldn’t tell if they could see him, but he kept pounding. “We’re here!” he shouted, and he waved his arms.

The policemen turned and walked toward their car.

Marcus felt an arm come around his middle and pull him away from the window. “Cut it out,” George said.

“You can’t keep us here!” Marcus shouted, thrashing. “You can’t, you can’t, you can’t!”

“Stop it,” George said. He spun him around and held his shoulders hard. “Listen to me.”

“Why did the policemen go away?” Marcus screamed, still struggling. “Why didn’t they come inside?”

“Because we can’t let them,” George said.

“Because Raúl gave them money,” Isabel said.

Marcus hadn’t noticed Isabel, he’d been so focused on the scene outside. She stood by the window, in the white T-shirt and red shorts, her arms hanging at her sides and her hair stringy and long. She looked like a messenger of doom, like a girl in a horror movie poster that Marcus would have to look away from because it was too scary. But she was still so beautiful.

“I’m going to get you out of here, I promise,” George said. “You just have to trust me and stay out of Raúl’s way, okay?”

“I don’t trust you!” Marcus said.