Page 69 of Under His Sheets
“He’s a smart kid.” I couldn’t believe it. With all of these scary things going on, a ten-year-old boy tried to save his father. How would all of this affect him in the long run? Lara needed to ensure that he received counseling as well.
“I would have never had these people in my home, never have gotten involved with their cause if I knew they planned tocommit illegal acts, or violence in our community. I hope you believe me. That you can forgive me. I have a lot to answer for with the authorities, but I have agreed to cooperate. I will do anything for my son.”
His gaze traveled over my injuries and his eyes filled with tears.
“I will also do everything in my power to make sure you are able to play again, Randall,” he said in a low voice. “Music has been my passion for as long as I can remember, and I know from playing with you, and what you have done for my son, that it is for you as well.” He swallowed hard and stood a little straighter. “I have brought in two very prestigious surgeons to consult on your case. They have agreed. I want you to see them. If you are comfortable, I want them to determine the best course of treatment. I want to do this for you. It is the least I can do to repay you for saving my son’s life.”
And then his tears fell.
“I cannot imagine my life without my son. When they came to the house and took him from me at gunpoint, I was desperate to get him back. He told me what you did, how brave you were. You, an americano, trying to protect my little boy and our community.” He covered his mouth with his hand and took a few shaky breaths before whispering, “I owe you my life. It would mean nothing without him.”
I believed him. Sometimes it took nearly losing everything to realize what you have. Fear was a huge motivator.
“I’m…I’m glad he’s okay. He is a wonderful boy. I couldn’t let them hurt him.”
“Let me take care of you, Randall. Whatever it costs.”
“Paolo, I have insurance. It’s okay?—”
“The care you need will cost extra. You need to have these surgeons evaluate your injuries, there will be physical therapy, Iwant to do this for you. I am more than capable. Please. I could not live with myself if you lost that part of you.”
His last words finally cracked me wide open. I could lose music. Sure, I could still sing, but if I couldn’t play guitar? That would very likely sink me into a depression I couldn’t come back from.
“All right,” I whispered. “I’ll see them.”
He placed a hand on my right arm, gently, and squeezed. “Gràcies. Thank you, Randall.”
I had to hand it to Ferrer. He delivered on his promise. The surgeons came to see me, came up with a plan, and I was whisked into surgery the next morning. Shoulder repaired, hand repaired, a great prognosis.
I spent a total of five days in the hospital, and when I was discharged, Josette and Sasha took me home to a clean apartment with new furniture, thanks to Fermín. The women made sure I had a stocked fridge and there were a few more feminine touches than I’d had before. I had a few days before beginning physical therapy, and all of my treatments were covered by the Ferrer family. They even arranged for a car to come fetch me and take me to my appointments.
I truly felt what it meant to have a community on my side. Despite nearly losing everything, I’d gained something I’d never felt I’d had before.
Cecilia called a few more times while I was in the hospital, sent flowers to the hospital, and then Felip brought her to see me a day after I got home. She got on well with my French Foreign Legion, which was down to two members now. Sasha told us she’d learned that Camille had been arrested for her part in what turned out to be an extensive extortion and bribery operationthat involved members of the Catalan government as well as local police and even, allegedly, the military.
When Felip came back from talking to Fermín, he was down. It had been over a week and no one had any idea where Alonso was. I made a decision right then.
“I need to tell you both something, and you’ll probably be upset, but please know I was trying to respect Alonso’s wishes.”
They sat on my couch and I sat in my new recliner, which had been so helpful after my surgery as I couldn’t lay flat for quite some time without pain.
“Alonso? How do you… You know something about my brother?” Felip’s demeanor changed from sad to on the verge of anger, and I was glad Cecilia was there to ground him with a touch to his arm.
“The night before I called you back in November, Cecilia, I met Alonso. He rescued me, actually, from a protest on Las Ramblas.”
Cecilia and Felip exchanged looks. “That place is bad luck,” Cecilia muttered.
“Or maybe good? Depending on how you look at it?” Felip covered her hand with his and smiled before turning back to me with a frown.
“We, um…” God, this was embarrassing. “He took me to his place and I stayed the night with him.”
Felip looked on with interest, nodding for me to continue…as if he hadn’t realized what I’d said.
“Okay,” I said with a laugh, because Cecilia totally got it. Her eyes lit up and she smiled wide. I worried for a minute about whether there might still be a listening device in my place, but they deserved answers, and if someone was listening, maybe it would trigger a response and we’d find out where he was. “So then, Cecilia, you hooked me up with Lara, I got hired, and on my first day I fell off my bike…and Alonso rescued me again,although he was in a custodian’s uniform and he acted like he didn’t know me, nor spoke any English.”
Felip’s frown grew more severe. “Custodian? What the… Go on.”
“For a few weeks he ignored me, and I thought I was losing my mind, but then I went to the winery with you, and he finally told me he was on an assignment. At my school.”
