teeth gleaming. "Surprise!"
Eliah had been my big mistake when I moved to San Antonio. I'd talked to him at the client mixer after one of our ropes course sessions with the local insurance sales group. He was what I'd heard someone in the group refer to as "freakishly tall." At 6'6," he walked with a constant slouch as if attempting to bridge the distance between his world and that of the little people around him. With his jet-black hair and thin build, he looked like an underfed giant.
Somewhere along the way I'd sent him a signal that he'd been trying to get me to replicate for months. We were, he insisted, friends. On a good day, I'd have said we were maybe acquaintances.
"How are you feeling, Kati?" He sat down on the edge of the chair next to the bed. "You look..."
I'd seen myself in the mirror. The puffiness around my face had gone down, but my eyes were still swollen. "I look like hell."
His grin was pained; he placed a giant hand on mine, enveloping it completely. I found myself wondering what size glove he wore.
"Actually Eliah, I have to make a few calls."
"No worries, Kati. I've already taken care of all of that."
"What? Taken care of all what?"
He leaned in conspiratorially. "I have connections, you know." He looked around as if the CIA might drop in at any moment. Satisfied, he continued, ticking off items on his four inch long fingers. "One. Got the car totaled with the insurance company. Two. Made them cough up the rental. Three. Got you an extra week on the rental so you can take your time getting a new car. And," he raised his eyebrows, "got my buddy at the dealership to set aside a couple of sweet deals just for you."
Whoa. I really needed to set a boundary with this guy. Like a 'Great Wall of China' scale boundary. "Thanks," I said.
Sitting back up, he beamed. "I told your grandmother I'd take care of everything."
"You saw Abuela? When?"
"I dropped by to see you yesterday. Your mother was here too," he hesitated.
"I know. She seemed out of it."
He looked relieved to not be the one bringing it up. I'd crossed this bridge with so many people I felt like I should charge a toll. People never knew quite how to react to her at first. Should you treat her like a child, an idiot, or an adult? The correct answer was usually somewhere in between.
"Yeah, she was different," he said, noticing the noisy balloons in the room tangling in the invisible air currents of the room. He got up and worked on untangling them.
"So, did Abuela—I mean, my grandmother—did she say where she was going?"
"She said there was some sort of emergency at home. She said she'd call you." He gave up on the balloons and sat down on the chair again. "I thought you'd have heard from her by now."
"Well, like I said, I guess I need to make a few calls."
"Absolutely, go ahead."
"Eliah. I need a minute here to make these calls."
"Oh, right." He stood up and brushed away his indentation on the bed. "I'll be down the hall."
I gave him a look I usually reserved for kids who were playing on the ropes instead of following directions.
"I mean in the waiting room. Right. Because you need someone to drive you home, that's what the nurse said." He grinned, beaming like a homecoming king. "I did tell your grandmother I'd take care of you."
No one answered the phone at the house in El Paso. I called the neighbors and the service Margie worked through. No one had heard from any of them in the last couple of days. No one had heard of any emergency either, other than my accident.
It was a long drive to El Paso, and I figured if they had gone home, it was possible they were still on the road.
I packed my few things into the plastic bag the hospital gave me, remembering the cassette tape I'd slipped under the cover of my bed. I tucked it into my jacket pocket and called for the nurse and a wheelchair.
In a couple of hours, I was on my own way to my apartment. Eliah drove, pulling over periodically as waves of nausea hit
Eliah had been my big mistake when I moved to San Antonio. I'd talked to him at the client mixer after one of our ropes course sessions with the local insurance sales group. He was what I'd heard someone in the group refer to as "freakishly tall." At 6'6," he walked with a constant slouch as if attempting to bridge the distance between his world and that of the little people around him. With his jet-black hair and thin build, he looked like an underfed giant.
Somewhere along the way I'd sent him a signal that he'd been trying to get me to replicate for months. We were, he insisted, friends. On a good day, I'd have said we were maybe acquaintances.
"How are you feeling, Kati?" He sat down on the edge of the chair next to the bed. "You look..."
I'd seen myself in the mirror. The puffiness around my face had gone down, but my eyes were still swollen. "I look like hell."
His grin was pained; he placed a giant hand on mine, enveloping it completely. I found myself wondering what size glove he wore.
"Actually Eliah, I have to make a few calls."
"No worries, Kati. I've already taken care of all of that."
"What? Taken care of all what?"
He leaned in conspiratorially. "I have connections, you know." He looked around as if the CIA might drop in at any moment. Satisfied, he continued, ticking off items on his four inch long fingers. "One. Got the car totaled with the insurance company. Two. Made them cough up the rental. Three. Got you an extra week on the rental so you can take your time getting a new car. And," he raised his eyebrows, "got my buddy at the dealership to set aside a couple of sweet deals just for you."
Whoa. I really needed to set a boundary with this guy. Like a 'Great Wall of China' scale boundary. "Thanks," I said.
Sitting back up, he beamed. "I told your grandmother I'd take care of everything."
"You saw Abuela? When?"
"I dropped by to see you yesterday. Your mother was here too," he hesitated.
"I know. She seemed out of it."
He looked relieved to not be the one bringing it up. I'd crossed this bridge with so many people I felt like I should charge a toll. People never knew quite how to react to her at first. Should you treat her like a child, an idiot, or an adult? The correct answer was usually somewhere in between.
"Yeah, she was different," he said, noticing the noisy balloons in the room tangling in the invisible air currents of the room. He got up and worked on untangling them.
"So, did Abuela—I mean, my grandmother—did she say where she was going?"
"She said there was some sort of emergency at home. She said she'd call you." He gave up on the balloons and sat down on the chair again. "I thought you'd have heard from her by now."
"Well, like I said, I guess I need to make a few calls."
"Absolutely, go ahead."
"Eliah. I need a minute here to make these calls."
"Oh, right." He stood up and brushed away his indentation on the bed. "I'll be down the hall."
I gave him a look I usually reserved for kids who were playing on the ropes instead of following directions.
"I mean in the waiting room. Right. Because you need someone to drive you home, that's what the nurse said." He grinned, beaming like a homecoming king. "I did tell your grandmother I'd take care of you."
No one answered the phone at the house in El Paso. I called the neighbors and the service Margie worked through. No one had heard from any of them in the last couple of days. No one had heard of any emergency either, other than my accident.
It was a long drive to El Paso, and I figured if they had gone home, it was possible they were still on the road.
I packed my few things into the plastic bag the hospital gave me, remembering the cassette tape I'd slipped under the cover of my bed. I tucked it into my jacket pocket and called for the nurse and a wheelchair.
In a couple of hours, I was on my own way to my apartment. Eliah drove, pulling over periodically as waves of nausea hit
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