“Move away from the opening, ma’am,” said one of the guards with shaky courage.
Clary tugged Annette toward Zelda, who glanced back. Twenty seconds; they’d never have another chance.
Zelda stomped on a guard’s foot; he howled. With a feral growl, Clary kicked one of the soldiers in the knee and the other in the groin. Annette punched the third guard in the face. The women barely made it through the closing zipper, which muffled the soldiers’s shouts.
A thick verdant forest with at least ten different shades of green swallowed them. Annette impatiently led them over the path carpeted with leaves and branches. In a few minutes, they were completely lost, half a mile down a desolate road. There was no chirping or animal sounds, not even a rustling breeze. It was if they were nowhere.
Zelda clung to the edge of a stump.
“We can’t stop here,” Annette insisted.
“Stop for el bebe,” Clary said disgustedly.
Zelda groaned; Diego had morphed into fighting triplets. Clary rubbed her shoulder in between scowls at Annette.
“Any idea where we are?” Zelda asked.
“How should I know? Your friends took us here. I was blindfolded, remember?” Annette gestured helplessly at the thick tree cover.
Zelda squinted up at a glimmer of light. “Even in Grandma’s world the sun rises in the east.”
“How does that help if we don’t know where north is?”
“The Bronx is south.”
“Not if we’re south of the Bronx. Then we’d go north.”
Zelda hated Annette for being right.
Annette broke a few twigs in frustration, finally looking at the squirming Zelda with concern. “You look white.”
“Just pale or Caucasian?”
“I can’t carry you. Even with the help of devil child. So rest for a couple seconds.”
Zelda nodded agreement and unwrapped the napkin, handing Clary her leftovers. The girl shook her head and patted Zelda’s stomach.
“For el bebe.”
“You muchacha.”
“Not el bebe.” Clary made a place setting on Zelda’s lap and shoveled the veggies into Zelda’s mouth.
“You hungry?” Zelda asked Annette between chews.
She grudgingly shook her head. “Puppy always said that about you.”
Zelda blinked, convinced she’d dozed and lost a conversation. “Said what?”
“Your humor in the face of shit. I was never good at that.”
“That’s for sure.”
“I can appreciate a joke. Ask my fiancé.” Annette wearily leaned against the tree. “If he’s still my fiancé.”
“You’ve only been gone a few days.”
“Time enough for that whore Dara to move in.”
Zelda nudged Clary, who reluctantly offered a tiny piece of bread which Annette wolfed down.
“You and Puppy were perfect for each other,” Zelda finally said.
“Now you think that?”
“I always did. I was just jealous. He’s still in love with you.”
Annette managed to snort and smile at the same time.
“I’m serious. The guy never dates.”
“He does that to punish me.”
Zelda rolled her eyes. “Like everyone in the world does things just to hurt you?”
Annette slowly shook her head, saying quietly, “No. I do enough to myself.” She cried softly for a moment. When she finished blowing her nose on her sleeve, they heard the dry leaves rustling.
Clary helped Zelda stand and they walked quickly, but carefully toward the south, the thick foliage overhead thinning.
The leaves crackled closer, followed by a whisper and the crunching of heavy boots. Clary suddenly hurried past the adults, pointing at the sounds of rumbling and stomping they could almost see. Music, too. Horns, faint cheers.
A bullet whizzed past, two, then a third thudded into the trees near their heads; Annette screamed. Zelda lifted Clary up, ignoring the sharp pain in her stomach. The girl twisted free and dashed ahead as a bullet skipped at her heel.
Soldiers marched silently down the dusty road in clean, pressed uniforms. Many limped, but the backs and shoulders remained stiff, stoic. Cheering siblings waved small American flags while impromptu bands serenaded the calm, clear faces never looking left or right. The formation disappeared around a bend several miles away.
Cars respectfully edged past, honking salutes. Some makeshift signs read “Finish the Job” and “Forgive Who?” It was a spirit of grim joy.
Clary squirted between the soldiers, waving her baseball cap, Zelda and Annette apologetically following; the two thin Miners watched behind a tree, looking for an opportunity to take a shot. Hazel’s orders were shoot to kill.
“Puppy Beisbol.” Clary hopped up and down, thrusting out her chest.
A beefy woman in a Detroit Tigers cap behind the wheel of a pick-up truck marked Friedman’s Lumber, Kalamazoo, leaned out the window.
“Going to the game, honey?”
“Si. El bebe.”
The woman frowned at Zelda’s panting expression. She yelled at her pimply-faced son in the back seat of the crowded truck.
Annette and Clary helped Zelda onto the flat bed. Clary gave the two scowling Miners the finger as the truck pulled away. They jostled their rifles and followed along the tree line.
The back of the Ford was crowded with three other women, all wearing Tigers jerseys and hats.
“I’m guessing seven months.” A sallow woman pointed at Zelda’s stomach.
“Four. I’m just fat.”
“Fat’s good. More cushioning for the baby,” the heavy woman said, smiling at Annette. “What’re you naming him?”
“Diego.” Annette managed a smile, licking her lips at the half-eaten sandwiches on a plate.
“That’s a nice strong name. Are you excited to have a little brother?” The woman asked Clary, who helped herself to some food.
“Clary!” Zelda said sharply.
“No problem.” The woman laughed loudly. “You all hungry?”
They devoured the food as the truck rolled past the endless line of soldiers. Clary stood and saluted for a few minutes.
“Lovely sight, ain’t it?” The heavy woman smiled. “We’re marching all over America. Every scene like this.” Her hefty arms flapped at the road, the applause, shouts, music, signs, flags. “Finally getting their due. Respect,” her voice hardened. “Making us proud again. Being part of a family’s a great thing. But being part of a country’s more.”
Zelda squirmed, keeping up her polite smile.
“They should’ve let us finish the job,” the woman said loudly, getting appreciative nods from the truck’s occupants. “All those boys and girls dying in vain. I lost two uncles. You know the Allahs are planning on finishing their job.”
“Allahu Akhbar,” Clary growled.
The
