Page 20 of Resolutions

Moses!

Another text:He wants to know where you are. He will pay.

The knife man speaks Spanish. My grandma tells him the wrong room. She says you left this morning.

I blow out a large breath to try and control my shaking hands.He is very bad, please, he can't find me.

Grandma says stay where you are for now. She and Grandpa go talk to the men. I'm listening through the window.

My hands shake as I reply:Ok. Don't be seen. What are they saying?

Blinking dots...

How? How did he find me?

Blinking dots...

Oh, come on! Tears spill onto my shirt. My breath is labored. Finally, a bing notification.

Grandma says come park in the back, far side of black truck. Man gone.

On my way.

I answer, starting my car. I drive back thinking about how Michael found me and how fast I can gather Moses and leave. I drive by the motel, turn three blocks down, and make my way to the back of the motel. Seeing the black dual-wheeled pickup truck, I pull in next to it, essentially hidden from the street.

The grandmother appears with a boy around eleven, pushing a laundry cart. She looks around, then motions for me to step out.

“When did he get here? What does he know? I need my cat!” The words tumble out altogether.

“It's okay. Grandma has everything,” the boy says in perfect English.

His grandmother speaks rapid Spanish. The boy translates: “She says he came asking about you, offering money. Said he was your husband. But Grandma knew - she told Grandpa he hurts women. They have five daughters and Grandpa would never let anyone hurt one of his little girls. Grandpa told the knife man that he went for a walk around seven and you were packing your car. He said when he got back, your car was gone. He told them Grandma had already cleaned your room, but they could check. He gave them the key to the room two doors down. He told them you were a crying mess. That seemed to make them happy. They said we need to call if you come back.” The kid hands me Michael's business card. Just touching the thick paper makes me want to dry heave. Grandma speaks again. “Grandma and I, we've got your things. She knew you wouldn't stay once he came looking.”

“He's not my husband. He's just a horrible man.” I say and the boy translates. The grandmother's eyes flash with understanding.

From beneath towels, she produces my laptop bag and suitcase. The boy brings out Moses, who seems to think this is some sort of grand adventure.

“He's so big and fluffy. And very friendly,” the boy grins. “I like him.”

“He was a gift from someone I love very much.” I settle Moses in the car, then offer them my groceries needing refrigeration. The grandmother takes them with a knowing smile.

“I don't know how he found me,” I say aloud.

“Did you use a credit card?” the boy asks.

The realization hits like a punch in the gut. “Yes. Oh God, I'm so stupid.”

“If he is smart with computers, then he knows how to track your card.” The boy's phone rings. After a brief exchange in Spanish, the boy tells me, “Grandpa said to tell you when he was talking to them, the shorter man got a call. He heard the voice on the phone say, 'Walmart, sir, ten minutes straight north on the highway.'“

The grandmother and I share a panicked look. She reaches into her apron pocket and presses a roll of cash into my hand.

“No, please, keep it,” I protest. “I have money.”

She's adamant, speaking in hurried Spanish. The boy tells me, “No, Jane Doe. She wants you to have his money because he hurt you. You take his money.”

The boy hands me a paper. “My aunt and uncle's motel, on the other side of town by the fishing lake. She'll call them. You should go get cash. Go to the bank here in town, make a big withdrawal, then never use those cards again. He already knows you were here. So, when you leave, he won't know where you are going. Then when you're settled, only use preloaded untraceable cards.”

“You're really smart,” I tell him, ruffling his hair.

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