Page 37 of Close Your Eyes and Count to 10

Focus.

“Please, Petra. I am going to have to ask you and your men to leave. I promise we’ll do no harm. Our money will help you in your conservation efforts.”

She knew that was important to the old woman, conserving the island, keeping it safe from encroachment. She spoke to that. “And we’ll be gone before you know we were here. I know how important this island is to you. We won’t hurt anything. It’s just a game. Just for fun.”

The high-pitched cries of the birds carried down. They were lower, their wingspans enormous.

Petra lifted a gentle hand to Angeline’s cheek, and Angeline found herself thinking again of her abuela.

“You don’t understand,” said Petra. She brought her hand back, clasped the other at her heart center. “I’m not worried about protecting this island or the land. It can take care of itself. It has and will, long after I’m gone. Just as the earth will be here and will heal itself after it has ejected the virus that mankind has proven itself to be.”

Angeline shook her head, folded her arms around her center. “Then, what do you want from us?”

The look of pity on the old woman’s face cut Angeline deep.

“I’m trying to keep you from hurting yourselves.”

It happened fast.

Maverick pushed past Angeline, rushing toward Petra, yelling,pointing his finger at her, aggressive. Angeline grabbed for him, his powerful arm filling her grasp. She couldn’t even make out what he was saying. He was roaring. Petra didn’t give an inch, staring him down.

But then two of the men were on him, moving with speed and intensity, bringing him hard to the ground while Maverick kept raging. She heard her own voice screaming in protest. Time pulled and slowed.

She tugged with all of her strength at one of the men, trying to get him off Mav, but he was like a slab of concrete, didn’t even acknowledge her efforts.

Gustavo moved in, yelling, too.

But he was blocked by two other men who were now pointing their guns.

Gustavo lifted his palms, stopping short, face ashen.

Her heart stuttered with terror. It was chaos. Anything could happen: she braced for the sound of gunfire. Then Adele moved in.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Adele said like she was on a playground somewhere, reprimanding unruly children. “Let’s take this down a notch, gentlemen.”

Angeline felt her tension build until she exploded.

“Stop,” yelled Angeline at no one, at everyone. “Stop this right now!”

Her voice, clarion and strong, seemed to cut the gray morning.

Everyone froze.

An eerie silence fell, leaves whispered in the wind that was picking up, blowing up dirt from the ground.

“Please,” she said, her voice softer, directed at Petra. “We truly don’t want any trouble. But we’re not leaving.”

Something passed between the two women. She saw Petra acquiesce without submitting, a kind of wise retreat. Understood between them: things would move forward. There was nothing either one of them could do, really. Except be around to clean up the mess. Men,boys, would have their way. It had always been so.

Petra said something in Portuguese that Angeline didn’t understand. But then the armed men who were pinning Maverick climbed off him. They were calm, unruffled as if they’d exerted no effort while Maverick thrashed and raged, scrambled to his feet, breathing hard. Both with close-cropped hair, identical thick mustaches, along with the other men who had come forward they moved back into their formation, still pointing their guns. Maverick came up behind Angeline.

“You are going to fucking regret that,” he said, his shaking voice betraying how scared he was.

“Regret,” said Petra, still with that patient smile. “You know the taste of regret already, don’t you? How it’s an acid in your throat.”

What was that supposed to mean? The way she looked at him, with such disdain, like she knew something about Maverick that Angeline did not.

“You don’t know shit about me,” he said weakly.

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