“Now, we sit,” Muñoz said. “And we wait.”
Until then Noah hadn’t noticed his surroundings. The stress and adrenaline had narrowed his attention until he was blind to anything not directly in front of him. With Rachel taken, that adrenaline wore away, leaving behind a cold shiver in his limbs he couldn’t shake.
The front waiting room was the filthiest place he had seen since arriving in Mexico. The floor was made of press-on linoleum tiles loose from the sweat of summer heat, some missing, some cracked beyond repair. In the corner sat a small box of toys—a duck, some plastic cars—that Noah got the impression were not often played with. There seemed to be no sign of children ever having been there, which seemed appropriate, considering how oppressive the room was. But despite the small size of the room, Noah hadn’t immediately noticed that he and Muñoz were not alone. There was a lonesome couple seated in the corner, their faces long and sagging, their eyes dead. They did not glance at Noah or Muñoz. They did nothing much at all except cradle a pair of twin papier-mâché dogs in their arms. At least, Noah supposed they were dogs. Bright, multicoloured dogs; fat and malformed and without eyes.
“Why do they have those here?” Noah whispered.
“Here it is customary for the birth of a child. It’s a regalo. A gift. Our people, they are too poor to afford to give anything they cannot make.”
Noah nodded. They sat quietly, listening to the erratic tick of the old clock on the laminate wall, and to the sound of the couple’s heavy breathing as they stared at nothing and waited. Noah was in no condition to handle the silence.
“Thank you,” he whispered again. “You don’t need to stay here.”
“It’s not trouble. I have no children. No one who needs me more. Without the Tletliztlii to teach, I—”
He caught himself, and lowered his head.
“I am sorry. Your hijo—your Eli—I forgot.”
Noah swallowed. “It’s okay. I’ll find him.”
Muñoz nodded.
Noah waited on word about Rachel in silence for almost two hours, but the nurse never returned. No one else entered the office either, and the long-faced couple across the room were barely more than statues, staring up at a buzzing clock, holding their plaster gifts. Noah looked to Muñoz, who sat still, eyelids closed, and Noah wondered where the teacher had taken them. A nervous itch crept across his jittering legs. Where had the nurse taken Rachel so quickly? Noah stood, started pacing, desperate to dispel his growing unease. First Eli, now Rachel—was he doomed to have parts of who he was forever disappear, plucked from his life one at a time, until he was nothing more than a set of bleached bones? Even the article in his pocket, unfolded and folded so many times, was beginning to wear.
Muñoz opened his eyes.
“You must stop moving. It is not good for you.”
“I have to do something. I’ll go crazy if I don’t.”
“You will be crazier if you do. They will come and tell us about Rachel soon. Dr Nunio is very old, but very good.”
“If he’s so good, where is everybody?”
Muñoz shrugged.
“Maybe they are working. Even the poor must work, especially in Astilla de la Cruz. There is always much to do before the season ends.”
“But there’s no one else sick at all?”
“Maybe the people pray,” he shrugged. “Maybe that is enough.”
Noah didn’t believe it.
“The church wasn’t any busier yesterday. If it was, you’d think they’d be able to fix up the place. The steeple at least needs work.”
Noah stopped twitching at the sight of Muñoz. The teacher did not look well.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“That is no church. Manillo, él es el mal.“ Muñoz spat on the ground. Noah tried not to recoil.
“But we met Father Manillo yesterday and—”
Muñoz spat again.
“The man makes lies. Lies and half-truths. Do not listen! El anda con el Tletliztlii y—”
“Wait. ‘The Tletliztlii’? Does he know them? He told us—he told me and Rachel that…He knew where they were the whole time? Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Noah paced the room faster, hands running through hair.
“I have to do something. I can’t just—I mean, I have to go. I—I have to find Eli.”
“But your girlfriend,” Muñoz said, eyes darting back and forth, jaw trembling to speak.
Noah had no idea if Rachel was okay. But his son needed him. His kidnapped son. How could he know what to do? No matter what his choice, he might never forgive himself. But he had to choose.
“I can’t leave him there. I can’t let him slip through my fingers.”
Muñoz nodded solemnly and stood.
“Then I will take you. You cannot go there alone.”
As he spoke, the wooden door of the waiting room opened. The small nurse entered, her stony, harelipped face long and craggy.
“Ya puedes verla.“ Her voice was like gravel, slightly sibilant.
“What?”
“Tu esposa. Ya puedes verla ahora. Ella está preguntando por ti.“
“She says it’s okay to see your wife now. She is calling for you.”
“I told you she’s not—I can go see her?”
The nurse nodded, her tired eyes already bored.
“But—”
“Go, señor. I will wait out here. I do not think the Tletliztlii will go anywhere at the moment. Unless they find out you are here…” He trailed off, looking at the silent couple in the room with them. They seemed oblivious to Muñoz’s attention, yet Noah felt everything slipping as he was drawn further apart by opposite poles and did not know which direction he desired more.
“Señor?“ The nurse, impatient.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
It took too long for Rachel’s room to appear at the end of the unfinished hallway, but when it did Noah was startled. There was little equipment, and what was there appeared far too old. Light slipped past the blind slats and bisected the room, creating a staggered line across the unfinished floor. On the opposite side of the divide was a pair of single beds, but only one was occupied. Rachel sat up, her hands fidgeting absently with a small, colourful toy. It was clear from her flushed wet face she had been crying before he entered.
“They finally let you in,” she said. “I was worried they wouldn’t.”
“I don’t think they could have stopped me.”
“The doctor’s had a look, but he isn’t worried.” She sniffled, then tried to hide it behind the sleeve of her gown. “It’s a bit of hysterical labour, probably caused by the stress of the trip, and maybe from some dehydration. I felt a lot better once I got some water in me.”
“The baby?”
“The baby is fine, too.”
“Good, good,” he said, and checked the time on his watch. Rachel went quiet.
“Can’t you stop looking at that thing for a second to see how I am?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I have a lead on Eli. I think he—”
“You have a lead? Wait, were you going to leave me alone here?”
“You’re safe. There’s nothing wrong, is there?”
“It has nothing to do with if something’s wrong or not. I’m in the hospital. Me. The woman you supposedly love. And the child I’m carrying.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Are you? I know you, Noah. I’ve been living with that look in your eyes for years. The last thing you want is to be here with me. Sometimes I wonder if you care about me and the baby at all.”