Ariel's Crossing - Bradford Morrow [141]
“You’ve done your job. You can’t save them from their messes. But we think of you like family. You’re square with Marcos, you’re square with all of us. Which isn’t to say I’d like to do this again, find out your name is—”
“Mary Carpenter and nobody else.”
“Good name.”
“That’s what Kip said.”
“Let’s get back to the house.”
They walked up together, Carl with his hand on Mary’s shoulder for part of the way. Mary hadn’t the heart to tell him she was leaving for Los Angeles as soon as she could manage.
Startled out of his sleep by a nauseous cry, Marcos jolted upright. Embers in the small fire glowed like incandescent beads. Delfino snored, he who was supposed to be sentry, curled on the earth in his blankets. Cause for concern. Maybe this really was beyond the man. What did they think they were doing, sleeping unprotected out here? Better cold in the ruined house than warm in the open. Seeing that Ariel wasn’t in her bedroll, Marcos hoped she’d simply had the good sense to return inside. His mind flitted as he climbed to his feet and made toward the house to check. Then again, a soft retching whimper outside the theater of firelight.
He turned toward the noise thinking, Kip? All was suddenly quiet, then more vomiting, painful to hear against this tranquil darkness. Maybe some animal.
Instead, by the windmill, Ariel half sat, half leaned, forehead pressed against the wooden wall of the collection tank.
Marcos tripped on a concrete rim of some sort, or rock slab, but didn’t fall. Made his way through the black. She was crying.
“Ariel? What’s the matter?”
“I’m all right.”
He hesitated. “Can I do something?”
“No.”
Finding her with his fingertips, he knelt and held her by the shoulders, steadying her. He’d never touched her before. “You’re probably sick from, I don’t know, maybe the water’s a little off. Or from exhaustion, nerves.”
She said nothing, ceased with the tears.
“We better talk with Delf about getting you out of here in the morning. I’ll come back for Kip myself, or we can phone them, tell them there’s a man who wandered onto their precious firing range by mistake.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said. Her body was drenched with sweat. What she wouldn’t give to climb into a hot bath. She spat and wiped her sleeve across her mouth.
“You can’t very well stay out here like this.”
“I’m not sick, and it’s not tainted water.”
Aware of his clumsiness, Marcos felt her forehead, not really knowing what else to do. “What’s wrong, then?”
Her confession that she was pregnant was so softly whispered he misbelieved his ears. His eyes had adjusted to the moonlight now and he could see the travail on her face.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “It’s not like I’m going to have the baby. At least I don’t think I am. There’s no husband, no fiancé, no boyfriend, even.”
“Virgin pregnancy. I thought that was unique to Jesus’ mother,” which caused her to laugh, or try to. Reminded of his own Mary—
Franny the Judas, or was that too bitter?—he had to wonder whether some betrayer had left Ariel in this jam, different from his, of course, but still a jam. He found himself wanting to help Kip’s daughter but had no idea how to begin or even if she’d let him. “None of this is my business.”
“Marcos, I’m feeling better now. Let’s pretend our talk never happened.”
Contradicting himself, he asked, somewhat more gravely than he might have wished, “You’re going to get an abortion?”
“Yeah, well, I wanted to meet Kip before I went ahead with anything one way or the other. There was a time when he and my mother could have aborted me, had every reason to. She would have had to go to Mexico to do it, or pay a king’s ransom for an illegal job. But obviously she didn’t. It’s crazy. I haven’t even told her yet that I’m pregnant. You’re only the second other person who knows. Lucky you, right?”
“You can tell me anything you want, don’t worry about it.” Marcos thought to ask what made her presume Kip had any insight into the matter, but she seemed to anticipate his question.
“Not that Kip knows about being a parent. Not that he should