The Necessary Beggar (35 page)

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Authors: Susan Palwick

BOOK: The Necessary Beggar
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“I know. You told me that. Look, Uncle Max, cheer up. I doubt I'll get the chance. We'll never get to the camp. We're going to be pulled over for speeding first.”
“Oh, pshaw,” Lisa called cheerfully from the front seat. “I'd have to be doing a hundred and ten to get pulled over, on this road.” They were already on the long, desolate highway to Gerlach, the desert fading away into blues and browns in the distance. Zamatryna realized that she'd never seen this route before, because the last time she'd taken it, she'd been hiding under a blanket. She hugged herself. Their story was coming full circle, for good or ill. “Mind you,” Lisa said, “I still don't think you kids should get married yet, okay? I'm doing this for Betty's sake, so we can get her out of there, take her home. Since we have room now. Since Alini and the kids aren't there.”
“Right,” Zamatryna said. “Objection noted and recorded.” Jerry, in the front seat, turned and winked at her. She wondered what he and Lisa had talked about over coffee. Well, he'd tell her later. If they weren't all arrested.
Lisa gave a long, low whistle. “Hey, guys, look. Up ahead. Is that the bus? Am I good, or what?”
Zamatryna squinted at the speck on the road as Lisa accelerated. “It could be another bus.”
“Come on, Zama. How many buses
take
this road?”
“Yeah, I guess you're right. So, um, how exactly are we going to convince them to let Betty come with us? Or were you planning to toss her into the SUV like firewood and take off, the way you did last time?”
“I don't think that will work,” Lisa said drily. “I don't know. We'll just, well, we'll tell them the truth. That she can stay with us. That she'll be closer to the hospital that way. We'll do the best we can.”
They were behind the bus now; Lisa really must have been doing a hundred and ten before, although now they had slowed to sixty. “Lisa,” Zamatryna said, “I don't think getting pulled over for tailgating will be much better than getting pulled over for speeding.”
“I'm not tailgating, sweetie. I'm keeping a good following distance.”
“Yeah, but that's it. They'll know you're
following
them. They'll think we're terrorists or something.”
“If we were terrorists, we wouldn't be so obvious,” Lisa said. “Our best bet is probably to be as up-front as possible. Zama, relax. Jerry, would you tell her to relax?”
“Why didn't the hospital call us before they released Betty?” Zama said. “They had our phone number from when we brought her in. Don't they try to make other arrangements for people?”
“Who knows? Maybe the number got lost. Maybe she was too scared or confused to ask them to call. Look, it's a bureaucracy. All kinds of things can get screwed up, even when people know how to stick up for themselves. Which Betty doesn't. Which is why we're here.”
Jerry turned around now, reaching into the back seat for Zamatryna's hand. “Don't worry,” he said. “We've found her. We're in time. That's the first step, isn't it?”
They stayed behind the bus the remaining twenty miles to the camp. Zama worried the entire way. Betty wasn't going to be the first homeless person she saw. Zamatryna wouldn't be able to choose Betty as her Necessary Beggar. They might not be able to get Betty out of the camp at all. This was craziness. Nothing was going to work. What was she doing?
And when the camp itself came into sight, she felt her insides twist. She'd seen photographs of it, and it wasn't even the same camp they'd been in. She hadn't expected to have such a visceral reaction to the sight of the fences, the barbed wire, the cluster of low, drab tents. She glanced over at Timbor, who was clutching something. His towel, the wet one.
“You brought Darroti,” she said very quietly, in Gandiffran.
“Families stay together, Granddaughter.”
She squeezed his hand with the one Jerry wasn't holding. They were linked now, the three of them. She was the bridge between them, the bridge between Gandiffri and America. She looked at the fences and said, “I think Darroti would be here anyway. He doesn't seem tied to that towel anymore, if he ever was.”
“Nonetheless,” Timbor said. “It is—it is how he is visible, to me.”
The bus pulled to a stop in front of them. Here were the gates, the guards going to meet the bus. Fighting déjà vu, Zamatryna got out of the SUV, into a brilliant autumn afternoon scented with sagebrush. Jerry was next to her. She had to keep her eyes on the bus. She couldn't stop watching it, in case she missed Betty and saw another homeless person first instead.
Someone in an Army uniform came up to them. That was all right, because he wasn't one of the homeless; he had a job, so she couldn't have chosen him as her Beggar anyway. “Excuse me, but who are you people?”
“A friend of ours is on that bus by mistake,” Jerry said. There was movement inside now; the doors opened, and Zamatryna's stomach tightened. Please let Betty come out first. Please. “We have a place for her to live. She can come home with us.”
“I don't know anything about that. I can't let you just—”
“Betty!” Zamatryna said. Here she was. She was the first one. She was the first one getting off the bus; a guard had reached for her arm to help her down the steps. She looked up and saw Zama, and smiled.
“You came to get me. I knew you would. God bless you, sweetheart.”
Macsofo had coached Zamatryna on what to say, had impressed upon her the importance of saying it exactly right, and saying it as soon as she saw Betty. Feeling ridiculous, knowing that all the guards and everyone on the bus were watching her, she bowed and said, “Please grace my wedding, to remind me of the ground of my fortune.”
Betty stared. “What?”
Zamatryna straightened up again. “I'll explain it later. And I'll tell you what you have to say back, okay?”
“This is highly irregular,” the guard said, sounding bewildered.
“Right,” said Lisa, behind them. “So who do we talk to, to fix it? Come on, buddy. This place is crowded, right? If we can take care of her so you don't have to, isn't that a good thing?”
It took hours. They had to answer questions, call the hospital to confirm that they were friends of Betty's, talk to her social worker at Sierra Regional Center. Lisa and Timbor, into whose custody Betty was being released, had to sign roughly ten thousand pieces of paper. But finally it was done. It had worked. They were taking Betty home.
On the way back to Reno, Zamatryna sat between Jerry and Betty. Jerry's arm was around her, and her hand was on Betty's shoulder: another bridge. Betty didn't smell as much as usual. The hospital must have bathed her. She and Jerry told Betty what they wanted her to do, and why.
“I knew it,” Betty said placidly. “I told you he loved you.”
“Yes, you did. Do you remember what to say now? What I told you?”
“I will grace your wedding, to remind you always of the gifts you have received,” Betty said. “Is that it? Did I do it right?”
“You did it perfectly,” Zamatryna said, glancing at Macsofo. He didn't look any happier than he had before, but at least he wasn't retching anymore.
“That's pretty,” Betty said.
“Yes,” Jerry said. “It is. It's beautiful.”
We did it, Zamatryna thought giddily. Everything's okay now. We'll be home soon, and Betty will be with us, if she doesn't just wander away again, and on Monday Jerry and I will get our marriage license and have the civil ceremony, and then we'll plan the other one, and we'll invite Alini, because she'd never dream of not coming to my wedding, and Max can apologize to her and—maybe it will all work out. Maybe we'll be okay. She put her head on Jerry's shoulder, wondering if she loved him yet. She couldn't tell.
But as they pulled up to the house, Lisa said, “Uh-oh. Trouble in River City. Who are those people on the porch?”
“It's Stan,” Harani said, peering out the window into the dusk. “Stan and someone else. I've never seen him before.”
“I have,” Erolorit said. “He looks familiar. Where have I seen him?”
“On television,” Timbor said bleakly. “And in the newspaper. That is Kenneth Glenrock. He is in charge of the INS investigation.”
“Oh,
shit
,” Lisa said. “Stan ratted on us? Stan called the INS? I'll kill him! I'll tear his balls off, that lousy good-for-nothing—”
“Calm down,” Jerry said. “Lisa, just breathe, okay? Losing your temper isn't going to help. Let's just talk to them. Glenrock's not in uniform or anything. If he were here to arrest you guys, he'd have cops with him. He probably just wants to ask you some questions.”
“We should have gotten married this afternoon,” Zamatryna said, her throat tight. It hadn't worked. She'd jinxed everything after all, by looking for someone she already knew to be her Necessary Beggar, or by saying the formula in English instead of Gandiffran, or by not really loving Jerry. Now they were going to be sent to Afganistan, where they'd never lived in the first place, where they'd have to start all over. She'd never get to be a lawyer. She'd never see Jerry again, or Stan or Lisa, or the Truckee River.
They all got out of the SUV, and walked in a clump toward the porch. Jerry had one hand on Zama's shoulder and one on Betty's. When Stan saw them, he stood up and said cheerfully, “I didn't call him. Lisa, everybody, I swear I didn't call him. I had nothing to do with this. I got here and he was already here, waiting. We've had a nice chat.”
“Yeah, I'll just bet,” Lisa said savagely. But Zamatryna, looking at Stan, saw that he looked happy. When was the last time he'd looked happy? She couldn't remember. In fact, he looked more than happy. He was glowing. He looked like he was in love, or on drugs.
“Stan?” Timbor said, frowning. “Are you all right?”
“I'm
fine
, brother! I'm better than fine! I—”
“I'm sorry,” Kenneth Glenrock said, “but do you mind if I talk to you folks for a minute? Inside the house?”
“Certainly,” Timbor said. “Let us go into the living room. Mr. Glenrock, would you like coffee?”
“No. Thank you.” They filed into the living room, perching on Lisa's mother's overstuffed furniture. Glenrock cleared his throat again. “Look, I think you know why I'm here.”
“Yes,” Lisa said. “Yes, we do.”
Glenrock nodded. “Can I ask—may I just speak to the family, please?”
“We're all family,” Lisa said, her voice cracking. “Everybody's family here. This is Betty, we're adopting her, and this is Jerry, he and Zama are getting married, and Stan and I, we've known these folks practically since they got here. So whatever you have to say, you can say to all of us.”
Glenrock pushed his glasses up on his nose. He looked pained. “Well, all right. But I have to ask you a question, and—it may be painful. Did you come here with someone else? A man who died in the camp?”
There was a short silence. “Yes,” Timbor said. “My youngest son. He killed himself. Why is that important, Mr. Glenrock, please?”
He looked at Lisa now. “Yes, I know you now. You don't remember me, do you? No, you wouldn't. That was ten years ago.”
“Excuse me?”
“You came to our house,” he said. “After my father died in the bombing. My father was Neil Glenrock. He was very upset, when—when Mr. Gandiffri's son died. He went to your tent, to try to help. Do you remember that?”
“Yes,” Timbor said quietly. “I do remember, now. It was hot. His uniform was too hot. He stood there sweating, trying to be kind. And I was unkind to him. I am sorry.”
“No,” Glenrock said. “It meant a lot to our family that anyone remembered that, after he died. It meant a lot that your friend here came to the house to tell us about it. I just—I just wanted to see if you were the same people. I thought you were.” He stood up and said, “You know, I have some leeway. In this investigation. We've got enough to nail the clerk, and you've been here long enough to be naturalized anyway. So have all the others, of course, but—well, some of them haven't been using their time here very constructively. That makes a difference. Anyway, we'll work with it. I'll try to work with it. I can't promise anything, but I'll try.”
“Thank you,” Timbor said. “Thank you very much, Mr. Glenrock. That means a lot to us.”
When he was gone, Erolorit shook his head and said, “I don't believe it. I don't—I can believe in Darroti's ghost more easily than I can believe what that man just said. It can't be that simple. Can it?”
“We don't know,” Timbor said with a sigh. “We have to wait to find out. He didn't promise anything. He only said that he would try.”

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