Down Division Road marched three odd police officers – or at the
very least they were in the green uniforms of police officers. One
was tall, skinny and dark as rich earth; another was short,
substantial and fair of face; the third was tawny and two and a half
feet tall.
They had marched out
of Los Hijos, surprising a group officers who had been preparing
to enter, and had no idea anyone had been searching that particular
neighborhood. They had declared that the culprits of the whole
nonsense were in a neighborhood very far away from the one the three
of them had just exited, and that they had only managed to get out at
this spot because the place was a damn maze. And then they had
marched away down Division Road, in the full light of a sky too
bright for anyone’s comfort, baking in the greater heat.
"How the hell
is this working?" whispered Alejandra.
"With style,"
whispered Mojito.
"No, I mean –"
"Mother Marquez said Los Ojos overlook people of the cloth,"
whispered Maggie. "Priests and the like are people of order and
morality, so obviously they can’t be doing anything wrong, so
there’s nothing to watch for. I figured the same was true for
police officers."
"I’ve seen cops kick the hell out of people,"
whispered Mojito.
"That’s called keeping order," whispered Alejandra.
A fair distance ahead of them, Maggie could see a couple police
officers yanking something out of the hands of bawling children, and
then walking away laughing.
"Holy smoke," whispered Mojito. "They’re
literally taking candy from babies! That’s got to be something
worthy of getting vanished!"
"That’s called perks of the job," whispered Maggie.
"We’ve proved we can get away with this while looking like
cops," whispered Alejandra. "Can we go back now and fetch
everyone else?"
"Got to keep going," whispered Maggie. "Just to be
sure. And everyone will be safer come nightfall anyway."
They said little more as they approached the line of trees,
until, near the entrance to the park, Alejandra slapped her forehead.
"Oh, wait. Maggie, we forgot to turn Mojito back into a girl.
Mojito, you must have been annoyed this whole time."
"Back?" said Mojito. He made a disgusted face.
"I did say a little bit," said Maggie. "And what a
long bit it’s been, eh?"
"I am extending the length of a ‘bit’ to a hundred
million zillion billion years," said Mojito. "It is in my
authority as a big tough police officer. Harrumph."
Alejandra chuckled. "Yes, officer. Oh, but Officer Mojito,
please, tell this common peasant, if you please – if this is
something you enjoy, why did I never hear you say anything about it
when you were old?"
The sky pulsed brighter once.
"Maybe safer to discuss in the shadows of the trees,"
murmured Maggie.
…
Down the forest lane, two green-uniformed officers strode
smartly, one tall and lanky, one shorter and substantial. The shorter
one carried a third, rather much shorter officer in her arms. They
all breathed easier, having escaped both the heat of the day and the
attention of Los Ojos. Probably.
"Is it safe for Mojito to answer now?" whispered
Alejandra.
Maggie darted out of a patch of bright sunlight, into the
shadows. "If we stay hidden in darkness?" said Maggie. "I
feel safer that way. Alright, Mojito, do you have an answer?"
"Sometimes that is the only answer a child can giveI don’t know," said Mojito.
"That’s not an answer, young man."
Mojito groaned. "Why can’t you believe me when I say I
don’t know? I don’t know if it was because I wasn’t certain
until this very day, or because the few times I heard people talking
out loud about being like me they got vanished and the sky turned
really bright and I got spooked so I never said anything about it
ever again and...hm. Maybe it’s the second one."
"Or both?" said Alejandra.
Mojito nodded. "Both is good."
"They shared my fate," said Maggie, "but I came
back, and they...went away somewhere. Who knows where anyone goes,
when Los Ojos take them?"
"Suppose you could ask Luis," said Alejandra.
Maggie grimaced. "I could have."
The sky flashed even brighter.
"You could ask Los Ojos," whispered Mojito.
"Shh." Maggie shrank back from the patch of light, even deeper into the shadows. She took Alejandra by her free
hand and led her through the darkness alongside the forest lane,
still following it yet not daring to approach. No one said a further
word.
As they got further along the path, they encountered, here and
there, a small shrine. And at each shrine would be a nun – or
whatever sort of convent Mother Marquez was leading, because these
nuns were all the ones Maggie had seen back at Los Hijos.
She didn’t especially want to speak with them. They gave her the
shivers. But, neither Maggie nor Alejandra were especially good at
creeping through underbrush without making a racket of leaves and
twigs. So it was that at the first shrine, a woman who had been
kneeling in prayer suddenly looked up, catching sight of Maggie and
company. Possibly because Alejandra’s skin stood out like a ghost
in the darkness. "Hello," said the nun placidly, without an
iota of emotion crossing her face. "You are here for Mother
Marquez?"
Maggie gulped. "Can’t deny it."
"I am Sister Margarita. May you ever be as enduring as the
mountains, Maggie." She bowed.
"Sister Margarita," said Alejandra. "If you would
be so kind, can you go back to our people in Los Hijos and tell them
that the police-uniform trick worked? It is safe for them to make
their way here two by two, if they are wearing the right outfit."
"And where are the uniforms?" said Sister Margarita.
"Here in my arms," said Maggie. "No, wait a – whulp!" A meters-tall
stack of clothing dropped into her arms. "My and my big mouth," she groaned.
Sister Margarita took the stack from Maggie, lifting it as easily
as she would a loaf of bread. She made to take it down the path –
and then paused. "This is going to look conspicuous. How am I
supposed to get these to Los Hijos without drawing attention?"
"How is the mouse supposed to get the bell on the cat,"
muttered Alejandra.
"If it’s two by two you only need two uniforms," said
Mojito.
"Such a clever little lad!" said Sister Margarita. She
dumped the stack of uniforms on the ground, picked up two, and
scurried off.
Maggie and company continued on their way. Once again they
attempted to skirt the shrine, at Maggie’s insistence, and once
again they failed to not attract the attention of the nun praying
there. She waved them over. "Greetings," she said, "I
am sister Michelada."
"That’s...not the kind of name I’ve ever heard before,"
said Alejandra.
"Everything is new to me," said Maggie. "Sounds
nice."
"Hmmmm…" said Mojito. "I’ve heard it before."
"Shall I tell Mother you’re on your way?" said Sister
Michelada.
Maggie frowned. "Mother Marquez, you mean?"
"Oh!" said Sister Michelada. "Yes, of course, that
is who I mean. Excuse me." She scurried off, up the path, before
taking a sharp right and crashing through the underbrush.
"Something is fishy," said Maggie.
"Something smells," said Mojito, "but I’m not
smelling fish."
Once more the three of them made their way forward, and once more
they attempted to skirt the shrine, to no avail. This time the nun
came to meet them. "Silly geese," she said, "did you
think it was possible to sneak past us? I am Sister Batida."
"I have a theory about all these names," said Mojito.
Sister Batida smiled at him, but it was really only raising the
corners of her lips a little; it did not reach her eyes. "You
will have time to tell it when you reach Mother."
"Mother Marquez?" said Maggie.
"Sure," said Sister Batida.
So the game continued, as Maggie and company tried, and failed, to
evade the notice of the nuns. Sisters Cachaça, Macuá, and Batanga
spotted them after they made too much noise traveling through the
underbrush; Sisters Caipirinha, Paloma and Sangrita spotted them from
far up the path; Sisters Colombia, Mimosa, Piscola, Crusta and Pulque
quietly greeted them from behind.
Maggie sighed. "We’re not fooling anyone are we?"
"Why would you want to?" said Sister Pulque. "You
were invited."
"And the shrines are for…"
"Mother will tell you," said Sister Pulque.
"Mother Marquez?"
"Sure," said Sister Pulque. She made her way straight
through the thick underbrush and disappeared from sight.
Maggie and company continued onward, until, at last, the path
dwindled and petered out completely. There was nothing ahead but
underbrush – tangles of thorns, as Maggie could see surrounding the
patches of intense sunlight.
"Great," said Mojito. "How do we get through?"
"You could ask me," said a voice from the darkness.