Without Borders (24 page)

The first rain drops fell, and Annie didn’t bother to dig for a poncho. She let the rain hit her face and mix with her tears, trying not to think about how she was all alone.

• • •

Under the cover of his poncho, Felipe alternated between staring out at the water and closing his eyes. He was grateful for the smacks of rain hitting the plastic, blocking out Annie’s voice. Even sitting at the tip of the boat, as far from her as he could get, there had been no escape. The conversation behind him was muffled, but earlier, when her laugh rang out, diving into the murky water and swimming to the next destination felt like his only option.

Maybe a long swim against the torrential current was a terrible idea, but it would certainly let him forget the look she gave him that night. At least for a little while. Forget the way she’d accused him of being some kind of accomplice to child abuse. How she assumed it didn’t tear him into agonizing shreds to leave Rosa there with her parents. His head drooped, suddenly heavy, and everything seemed disheveled and out of place. He had to do something, anything to quiet his mind.

“Juan,” he turned and raised his voice above the rain and the engine, “I want to drive.” He waited as Juan stared at him from the back of the boat. The old man never let anyone drive. Ever.

But Juan gave a single nod and steered left. A second later, he cut the engine and grabbed onto a tree trunk as they floated by the shore. The boat jerked to a halt.

“You are going to drive?” Marisol’s mouth fell open. “Do you know how to drive this thing?”

The boat rocked and jerked as Felipe rose and stepped between his sister and Phillip, avoiding Annie’s eyes as he moved. He grabbed onto the tree trunk and waited as Juan took the seat at the front of the boat.

With the engine roaring behind him, it was easier to construct a wall. It was easier to stay angry at the back of her head than it was with her voice and laugh knocking him in the gut every few minutes. And when he was angry, it was easier to convince himself that she was wrong.

She’ll be gone in a week. One more week.

“
¡Cuidado!
” Juan shouted.

The boat shuddered to the right, then left, making a horrible thumping noise as they pitched from side to side. Felipe struggled for control, and waves of brown water crashed over the side, soaking them all with the smell of fish and decay. He yanked them in the opposite direction, narrowly avoiding a midstream boulder.

Felipe blinked droplets from his eyes and wiped the river water from his lips. “
Todo bien
.” The lie was for himself as much as anyone.

But before anyone could respond, another log came rushing through. And without warning, they were in the river, their belongings bobbing alongside them.

Felipe pounded a fist on the bottom of the boat, barely feeling the sting of his hand smacking the aluminum. Between the rain pelting his face, the whoosh of the river rushing by, and the taste of rotting leaves lingering in his mouth, there was little room for anything else. He grabbed onto the cool, hard lip of the boat and heaved. But no matter where he pushed or twisted, he couldn’t get the damn thing to flip over.

Annie stood at the other end. The river came to her hips, and she stared at him as the others grabbed the bags. “Ready?” she asked.

He nodded without looking her in the face.

“One, two, lift.” Together they flipped it over.

“This. This is why I do not let you drive.” Juan shook his head, water flying from his hair.

“No offense man, but I think we should let Juan drive from now on.” Phillip flipped back his sun-drenched locks. Something was missing from his usual everything-is-so-awesome-bro expression, and Felipe assumed it had been replaced by judgment.
Of course.

“
Verdad
,” Marisol agreed, heaving herself over the edge of the boat.

Felipe turned, expecting Annie’s jab next. The river rushed past him, and raindrops plastered his hair to his forehead. Already soaked, he ripped off his poncho. “Do not bother,” he spat. “I already know you think this is my fault.”

“Yes, you already know everything, don’t you?”

“I know you do not understand.”

“Right, because I’m American. You almost let me forget that for like, what, thirty seconds?”

“This is not some vacation. Some way for you to feel good about yourself before you go home and forget it all.”

“I promise this is the
last
place I’d spend my vacation.”

The rain came down harder with every passing second, and each drop solidified Felipe’s certainty that he was right: Annie was just like all the others.

Annie stared at the spider web, waiting. It stretched from the low, bowed ceiling to the wall, draping her tiny corner of the hut with a glistening canopy. She held perfectly still, praying its eight-legged owner would stay away.

The soft rub of turning pages drew her attention from the web. To her right, Marisol’s hammock rocked, and over the crest of the fabric, Annie saw the red flash of a book cover.

Annie rolled off her mat and tiptoed toward her friend. “Mari?”

Another page turned.

“Mari? Please. I’m really sorry.” She waited, looming over the hammock, but Marisol’s eyes never left the book. “I shouldn’t have said those things to Phillip. I was angry, and I took it out on you guys. I was stupid. I’m sorry.”

For half a second, Marisol’s eyes met hers, then her friend licked her index finger and turned another page.

“Come on, Mari. I’m not leaving here until you talk to me. I’ll stand here like a total creeper while you read.”

The hammock next to Marisol shifted, and Phillip mumbled something too full of sleep to be intelligible. Annie froze, waiting to see if she’d woken him, but he rolled over with his eyes still closed.

“Come.” Marisol shot out of her hammock and stomped outside, her plaid shorts twisted around her waist.

Annie scrambled behind her and into the morning sun. “Mari, please. I’m so stupid sometimes. I’m sorry. What can I do to fix this?”

Her friend stayed silent.

Annie waited, staring at her bare feet. The wet blades clung to her ankles, and tiny clumps of dirt dotted the tops of her toes.

“What is wrong with me?” Marisol’s voice cracked.

“What? Nothing. Nothing is wrong with you. It’s me. My fault. I was upset about what happened. And things with your brother. And…” She shook her head. “No excuses. I’m sorry.”

“But that is the problem. You are so upset with my brother. But Phillip could leave here and start a harlem with all the women in this village, and I would not care. There is something wrong with me.”

Annie squinted, trying to make sense of her friend’s jumbled thoughts. “There is nothing wrong with you. You’re not attached to Phillip. It’s a fling. Nothing wrong with that.” She brushed a long strand of hair behind Marisol’s ear.

“But it is not only Phillip. I do not care about any of them. It is fun for a little while, then I am bored. I read these books about butterflies and happiness and trust. I see you care about my brother so much that when he makes you mad, you want to tear his head off and eat it like a praying manatee.”

“Oh, Mari.” Annie wrapped her arms around her friend. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect.”

She pulled back, her eyes rimmed red and her cheeks splotchy. “But I cannot care about anyone. I am empty inside.”

Annie looked her right in the eye. “You care about your brother. I see it in the way you guys take care of each other. And your mom, right? And I can’t believe you would be out here doing this every three months if you didn’t care about all the people in these villages.” She shook her head, amazed by her friend. “And me. I know you care about me. I would never have survived the last few weeks without you.”

Marisol wiped her tears with the back of one hand. “But that is not what I mean.”

“I know. But you do care about people. You just haven’t found the right guy to give you all those butterflies, yet. You will.”

Marisol shrugged.

“And in the meantime, you can still have fun trying. Right, Cupid of Nicaragua?”

A hint of a smile emerged on her friend’s lips.

“I’m sorry I ruined your fun with Phillip, though.”

“It is okay. I think he was getting too suctioned to me anyway.”

“Suctioned?”

Marisol nodded. “Like too much wanting to be with me all of the time. Too much of everything.” She shook her head.

“Ah. Too attached.”

“
Sí
. I need to check my blood sugar. It is making my brain slow.” She leaned against the side of the house.

“Okay. Stay here. I’ll get your stuff. Front pocket?” Annie had watched Marisol shove her cow print case in that same place dozens of times since they’d set out, and she was already halfway inside the house when Marisol nodded.

A minute later, she sat at her friend’s side, watching her prick her finger and chew another chalky glucose tab. The artificial orange smell was so strong it made Annie’s stomach rumble.

“Better?”

Marisol nodded.

“Good. Because I’m not sure I can handle being called a praying manatee ever again.”

“That is the bug, no? The one where the woman has sex with the man and rips off his head after they are done?”

“Mantis. Praying mantis. Manatees are these cute things with wrinkly faces.”

Marisol’s giggle cut through the last remaining strings of tension between them. “I have been saying praying manatee for years and no one has corrected me. You must swear to always tell me when I say something like this.”

“I swear. Which is why I’m going to tell you it’s harem, not Harlem. Harem is a bunch of women. Harlem is an area of New York City.”

“Oh! Yes, that one I know. The Globetrotters!” Marisol lifted both of her hands to the sky. “I love the Globetrotters.”

“What? How?” Annie rolled onto her back. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. I love that you love the Globetrotters.”

Marisol lay beside her as the sun rose higher in the sky. The morning air was still light and cool, and the sweet tang of someone cooking plantains drifted on the breeze.

“You will help me today,” Marisol said.

“What do you mean? What about the mosquito nets?”

“
¿Qué?
”

“The nets.”

She waved Annie off. “We will make Felipe do it.”

“Um, I doubt he’ll go for that.”

“He never argues with me. Trust.”

“What do you want me to do? I can put kids in the scale thing.”

“I am going to teach you to give vaccines,” Marisol said. “It will look better on your applications, no?”

“I think my applications are a lost cause.”

Marisol waved her off. “Do not be stupid.”

“I don’t think I’m allowed to give vaccines. And there’s no point anyway. This trip was supposed to be my chance to help my application.” She blew out a breath.

“
¿Y?
”

“And,” her voice was strained, “look what happened. No way Felipe will write a letter of recommendation for me after all this. Not that I want him to.” She sighed. “Sorry, I know he’s your brother.”

“You think Felipe was going to write the letter? What do you think he would say? Annie is very good at making the sex?”

“Stop.” Her face flamed. “We didn’t—”

“My mother writes the letters. And I tell her what to say. If Felipe had to write the letters…” Marisol shook her head. “Help me with the vaccines, and I will make sure my mother tells the American doctors how you saved
all
the Nicaraguan children from mumps.”

“Seriously?”

“No, you did not really save them all.”

“No. Your mom writes the letters? But she isn’t even on the trip.”

“You think the big shot American doctors will care what Felipe says? No, my mother is much more important.”

“And if Felipe wrote them, he would just say bad things about Americans.”

“Probably.” Marisol looked at her hands. “But you are being too hard on him.”

“Doubtful.” But even as Annie said it, she glanced over her shoulder into the doorway. From this angle all she could see was the outline of his shoulder blade and his smooth, perfect arm dangling from his hammock.

“Yes, look at him,” Marisol said. “Sleeping in a hammock, waking before the sunrise to take care of poor people. He is so terrible.”

• • •

Felipe dug through his supplies, throwing them down haphazardly. The line of patients waiting to get into the clinic coiled around the pavilion, twice as long as the last time he’d visited. “Juan?” He waited while the dentist strolled across the rectangular building, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his dental apron. “Do you have the bag with the extra supplies? I think we will need them here.”

“Your sister.” Juan twisted his mustache.

Over the man’s shoulder, Marisol and Annie huddled together, passing something small and green between them.
So Annie has decided we are good enough to help this time.

“Mari?”

“
¿Sí?
” She didn’t turn.

“Mari?”

At last, she looked up and rolled her eyes, stomping across the dirt toward them with a bag in her arms. “What?”

“What are you doing?”

“Teaching Annie to give vaccines.”

“Why?”

“So she can help me. Look at all the people waiting.”

He snuck a glance at Annie. Her t-shirt hung off one shoulder, taunting him with all the freckles there as she jabbed a lime with a needle. This was not how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to spend the last few days moping and ignoring the clinics, like she had at the last village. “No.”

“I am in charge of the vaccines, yes?”

Juan chuckled, his belly bouncing with the sound.

Felipe ignored him. “Who will do the mosquito nets?”

“You.” She dropped the bag at his feet and gave him her I-dare-you-to-tell-me-no stare.

“Fine.” He picked up the bag and rearranged his things to make room for the nets. He expected Marisol to wander back to Annie and for Juan to bumble over to his array of dental torture instruments. But they both stayed glued to the floor in front of him.

“What? Juan, do you want Annie to help you instead? Pull a couple of teeth? Sure!” He threw his hands up, knocking two mosquito nets to the ground. “Why not?”