"We'll steal a fast car and go very fast."
"You can't outrun them! That is not possible! They've all got phones like we do, so they're always ahead of us, waiting."
"I'm a rebel! I'll never surrender!" She lifted her chin. "Let's get married."
"I'd love to, but we can't. We have no license. We have no blood test."
"Then we'll marry in some place where they have all the blood they want. Beirut, that would be good." She placed her free hand against her chest. "We were married in my heart, the first time we ever made love."
This artless confession blew through him like a summer breeze. "They do have rings for cash at a pawnbroker's.... But I'm a Catholic. There must be somebody who does this sort of thing.... Maybe some heretic mullah. Maybe a Santeria guy?"
"If we're husband and wife, what can they do to us? We haven't done anything wrong! I'll get a Green Card. I'll beg them! I'll beg for mercy. I'll beg political asylum."
Agent Portillo conspicuously cleared his throat. "Mr. Hernandez, please! This would not be the conversation you two need to be having."
"I forgot to mention the worst part," Felix said. "They know about our phones."
"Miss Kadivar, can you also understand me?"
"Who are you? I hate you. Get off this line and let me talk to him."
"Salaam alekom to you, too," Portillo concluded. "It's a sad commentary on federal procurement when a mullah's daughter has a fancy translator, and I can't even talk live with my own fellow agents. By the way, those two gentlemen from the new regime in Teheran are staking out your apartment. How they failed to recognize your girlfriend on her way in, that I'll never know. But if you two listen to me, I think I can walk you out of this very dangerous situation."
"I don't want to leave my beloved," she said.
"Over my dead body," Felix declared. "Come and get me. Bring a gun."
"Okay, Miss Kadivar, you would seem to be the more rational of the two parties, so let me talk sense to you. You have no future with this man. What kind of wicked man seduces a decent girl with phone pranks? He's an aayash, he's a playboy. America has a fifty percent divorce rate. He would never ask your father honorably for your hand. What would your mother say?"
"Who is this awful man?" she said, shaken. "He knows everything!"
"He's a snake!" Felix said. "He's the devil!"
"You still don't get it, compadre. I'm not the Great Satan. Really, I'm not! I am the good guy. I'm your guardian angel, dude. I am trying really hard to give you back a normal life."
"Okay cop, you had your say, now listen to me. I love her body and soul, and even if you kill me dead for that, the flames in my heart will set my coffin on fire."
She burst into tears. "Oh God, my God, that's the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me."
"You kids are sick, okay?" Portillo snapped. "This would be mental illness that I'm eavesdropping on here! You two don't even speak each other's language. You had every fair warning! Just remember, when it happens, you made me do it. Now try this one on for size, Romeo and Juliet." The phones went dead.
Felix placed his dead phone on the tabletop. "Okay. Situation report. We've got no phones, no passports, no ID and two different intelligence agencies are after us. We can't fly, we can't drive, we can't take a train or a bus. My credit cards are useless now, my bank cards will just track me down, and I guess I've lost my job now. I can't even walk out my own front door.... And wow, you don't understand a single word I'm saying. I can tell from that look in your eye. You are completely thrilled."
She put her finger to her lips. Then she took him by the hand.
Apparently, she had a new plan. It involved walking. She wanted to walk to Los Angeles. She knew the words "Los Angeles," and maybe there was somebody there that she knew. This trek would involve crossing half the American continent on foot, but Felix was at peace with that ambition. He really thought he could do it. A lot of people had done it just for the sake of gold nuggets, back in 1849. Women had walked to California just to meet a guy with gold nuggets.
The beautiful part of this scheme was that, after creeping out the window, they really had vanished. The feds might be all over the airports, over everything that mattered, but they didn't care about what didn't matter. Nobody was looking out for dangerous interstate pedestrians.
To pass the time as they walked, she taught him elementary Farsi. The day's first lesson was body parts, because that was all they had handy for pointing. That suited Felix just fine. If anything, this expanded their passionate communion. He was perfectly willing to starve for that, fight for that and die for that. Every form of intercourse between man and woman was fraught with illusion, and the bigger, the better. Every hour that passed was an hour they had not been parted.
They had to sleep rough. Their clothes became filthy. Then, on the tenth day, they got arrested.
She was, of course, an illegal alien, and he had the good sense to talk only Spanish, so of course, he became one as well. The Immigration cops piled them into the bus for the border, but they got two seats together and were able to kiss and hold hands. The other deported wretches even smiled at them.
He realized now that he was sacrificing everything for her: his identity, his citizenship, flag, church, habits, money.... Everything, and good riddance. He bit thoughtfully into his wax-papered cheese sandwich. This was the federal bounty distributed to every refugee on the bus, along with an apple, a small carton of homogenized milk, and some carrot chips.
When the protein hit his famished stomach Felix realized that he had gone delirious with joy. He was growing by this experience. It had broken every stifling limit within him. His dusty, savage, squalid world was widening drastically.
Giving alms, for instance -- before his abject poverty, he'd never understood that alms were holy. Alms were indeed very holy. From now on -- as soon as he found a place to sleep, some place that was so wrecked, so torn, so bleeding, that it never asked uncomfortable questions about a plumber -- as soon as he became a plumber again, then he'd be giving some alms.
She ate her food, licked her fingers, then fell asleep against him, in the moving bus. He brushed the free hair from her dirty face. She was twenty days older now. "This is a pearl," he said aloud. "This is a pearl by far too rare to be contained within the shell of time and space."
Why had those lines come to him, in such a rush? Had he read them somewhere? Or were those lines his own?