Scratchgravel Road (Josie Gray Mysteries #2)(47)
“And what if I can’t get her to come with us?” The question had troubled Josie since she first decided to cross the border.
“After spending the day here, she’ll be ready for her mama. That’s my prediction.”
Sergio opened a street door on the building. The door led up a dark, narrow set of stairs nailed together with no regard to conformity. A tape measure and plumb line had not been part of the building process.
“Watch your step,” Sergio called. The street door slammed behind them as they started up the stairs. He turned on a pocket flashlight to illuminate the stairwell. Cockroaches scurried from the light.
At the top of the stairs Sergio shone his flashlight on a narrow wooden door. The landing wasn’t large enough for Josie to stand on as well, so she remained behind him. He knocked, but after several minutes no one answered and neither heard any sound from inside.
“Teresa? It’s Sergio. Come answer the door.” He listened again, ear to the door. “I just want to check on you. Make sure you’re okay.”
A half a minute later the door opened three inches, as wide as the door chain would allow. Even in the dim light Josie could see Teresa’s smile at the recognition of her mother’s friend. The door closed and opened again, with Teresa stepping into Sergio’s warm embrace. She stepped back, suddenly noticing Josie. Her eyes were wide and she looked down the stairs as if for her mother, or a police force come to collect her.
“Chief Gray?”
“Your mom’s pretty worried. She sent me looking for you.”
She looked confused. “But they closed the bridge.”
Josie noticed her red eyes and could tell she had been crying.
Sergio gestured toward the apartment. “Can we come in?”
Teresa looked back into the dark space and nodded reluctantly. “He’s sleeping. But he won’t wake up.”
She flipped a light switch on the wall and the room was bathed in the light from a bulb hanging bare from the ceiling. There were no windows in the room. Javier lay in a drunken stupor, curled on his side, passed out on a frayed dark green couch. He snored quietly and one arm dangled to the floor. Teresa looked around, as if noticing there were no seats. A twin-size mattress lay on the floor opposite the couch, and a sink and toilet against the other wall. A small refrigerator was in one corner of the room while the opposite corner was a makeshift shrine filled with statues and trinkets and candles all arranged neatly on a small table covered with a lace cloth. Josie noted several candles were lit. It was an oddly personal touch in the dirty, forsaken space. She wondered how much Teresa understood of her father’s unused spiritual talents.
Sergio said, “I’ll wait outside while you two talk. I’ll call your mother.” He gave Teresa a stern look. “You’ve put her through torture. She’s very worried about you. And this woman risked her own life to come check on your safety.” He walked over to Teresa and placed her head in his hands and kissed her forehead. Her eyes softened, but her expression remained resolute.
Sergio shut the door quietly behind him as he left.
Teresa sat on the mattress and Josie sat down beside her, her legs bent at the knees and crossed in front of her. Teresa wore a pair of shorts and a bright yellow top covered with a man’s grease-stained plaid flannel shirt. She smelled of engine oil and cigarette smoke. She stretched her long brown legs before her and Josie noted she was at that awkward age, stuck somewhere between a woman and a girl, that made grown men uncomfortable. Her black, sleek hair hung down, partially covering her face. She wouldn’t make eye contact.
“How did you get here?” Teresa asked.
“I crossed the river on a footbridge. Your mother tried to come with me, but I wouldn’t allow it. The current is too fast. Sergio found a room for us at a church. We can stay the night there and hopefully cross the International Bridge in the morning.”
She nodded slightly, her eyes toward the floor. Josie was relieved there apparently would be no fight about leaving.
“I’m sorry I did this to you. I just wanted out of my life, away from my mom. I didn’t mean to drag anyone else into this.”
Josie paused, feeling like she had the bruised soul of a child in her hands, with no idea how to hold it.
“You know, you have a lot of people who care about you.”
Teresa let her head drop as if the topic had been discussed too many times. “Yes, I know. All of Artemis is looking out for my well-being. Everyone wants the best for poor little Teresa. You watch. I’ll have a tracking bracelet on my ankle by tomorrow so you can watch me easier.”
“Why do you want people tracking you down?”
She faced Josie, her eyes wide and angry. “I don’t! I wish she’d leave me alone!”
“So you can live like this?” Josie regretted the words as soon as she’d said them.
Teresa’s dark eyes fixed on Josie. “You’re just as bad as she is. You think because Daddy drinks he’s bad. She doesn’t even give him a chance. You ought to hear the way she talks about him.” She looked toward the couch and lowered her voice to an angry whisper. “He treats me a hundred times better than she does! At least he believes in me. He tells me how smart I am, how pretty I am, how good I am.”
Josie sighed and stared at Javier, his body diminished by a life of alcohol and poverty. He lay on his side, his mouth open, his face covered with several days’ worth of patchy beard. He had a thick head of hair plastered to his head and wore a dirty flannel shirt similar to the one Teresa wore. It was difficult for Josie to imagine what Marta had seen in him, or what possessed Teresa’s loyalty. Was it pity, or simple love for a father?