Chapters 4-6

CHAPTER 4

Rico tries not to fire his assault rifle by removing his finger off the trigger. It doesn’t matter. The rifle has a life of its own and rounds fire on automatic mode. Children’s wide-eyed faces stare at him in astonishment. Then they look down and, holding their stomachs, drop to the floor.

Sometime during the night another of Rico’s increasingly frequent, cold-sweating, nightmares descended on him—the ones he had told Joey were long gone and moments before had seemingly been delayed only by the force of her melodic voice. Like David’s harp did for King Saul.

He awoke and felt somewhat comforted by the reality that surrounded him in Joey’s place. There was an unexplainable sereneness in the place; a strange sense of safety. It was as if he belonged there. Never in his whole life had he ever experienced this feeling. But it scared him. What if he disrupted Joey’s seemingly wonderful life?

He went to the kitchen, drank some water and popped a sleeping pill. Ignoring his conscience that begged him to get help, he was soundly asleep minutes later. Two nightmares a night—now—meant nothing. Every vet went through this phase … didn’t they? 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Joey said with what Rico thought was a chirpier-than-legal bounce. “Breakfast is waiting.”

To her this counted as their twentieth time rising together, in the same room at least—no doubt Rico wasn’t counting—and things seemed promising for many more, in a more intimate and official capacity, of course.

Never mind all that, he just wanted to sleep.

“Oh, woman, way too early. Besides, I don’t eat breakfast,” Rico answered in Spanish, covering his head to block the sunbeams that bathed him as Joey pulled the blinds aside on the east-facing window. East-facing like he liked.

“Doesn’t matter to me lazy bones, but when Rosangelica and Tina come through that door in about fifteen minutes, they’re either gonna scream and call the cops, or attack you as an intruder,” Joey said, also in Spanish.

“Yea, yea. Dejame dormir mujer. Como fregas!” (Let me sleep woman. How you annoy so.)

Let you sleep? Joey thought. You think I’m annoying now? Just wait!  She waited until she heard snoring again. Secretly, she called Rosangelica on the cell phone and gave her instructions, then kept on cooking.

“Come on, Jacob. The eggs are getting cold. Rise and shine. Look, my students just drove up!”

Rico sat up groggily as the two students walked in. When he stood up they screamed, “Sensei, sensei a thug!” They rushed and leapt on him as instructed.

 “Hey, what are you doing? Ouch! That hurts, stop! I’m not a thug!” Rico hollered as he ran downstairs into Michelle’s room. He heard Joey and the two young black belts laughing loudly.

In a hoarse whisper Michelle inquired about the racket.

“Just your bratty sister … and those kids, up to no good, that’s all. Need anything?” he whispered, getting closer but trying not to look at her morbid face. He felt instantly guilty about it.

“Not right now, but I sure could use some conversation later,” she begged.

“Sure. I have to run some errands first. Is two hours OK?”

“That’ll be great, Jacob, thank you.”

“Bye,” he whispered as he saw her eyes droop. He tiptoed upstairs, snuck up on Joey and startled her. “Ha, paybacks!”

“Gee whiz! You need a cow bell, Jacob,” she said, somewhat embarrassed and for the first time attempting to untangle herself from his grasp. At least she made it look good. 

“Uhm,” the girls said and softly coughed.

“Oh, Jacob these two angels are my students and friends. This is Tina.”

Angels, my foot! Jacob thought, but kept it to himself, a well honed cordial smile on his face.

“Hello, Ms. Tina. My pleasure. You must be twelve or so.”

“Fifteen next month,” she said, with only half a smile.

Oops! He acknowledged her correction with a nod and smile.

“And this is Rosangelica. Another one of my black belt assistants,” Joey continued.

“Ms. Rosangelica. You must be about twenty.”

“Twenty-two, sir,” she replied in as thickly accented English as three simple words can be. She eyed his reaction and gave Joey a look.

A puzzled Jacob also looked at Joey, who gave him an “I’m innocent” shrug. Who called anybody “Sir” nowadays?

“Girls, this is Jacob Rico,” she interjected quickly.

As if they didn’t know. But Rosangelica was more than slightly surprised about his presence now that she thought about it. Joey had alluded weeks before that she was about to break off the relationship. She almost created a disaster by remarking about it. Fortunately, wisdom prevailed, not to mention that she was rather intrigued at seeing the man in person; and if Joey didn’t want him, well … 

Rosangelica glued her eyes to his as he made small talk with them in Spanish. He didn’t know whether Tina was also Spanish dominant. She wasn’t, but she could maintain a general conversation.

Joey didn’t miss Rosangelica’s rapt attention to the man the young black belt had tried her best—in her mind—to keep at an emotional distance from. She didn’t trust him to stick around.

“Como piensas,” Rosangelica murmured to Tina, “Tiene esa mirada de enamorada, verdad?”

“Yes,” Tina replied. “I think Joey has that I’m-in-love-look, too.”

“Joey,” Rico said, tapping Joey on the shoulder to divert her gaze from him. She turned red as the girls giggled and headed to the kitchen.

“These girls are rather lively, or should I say giggly? They’re affectionate too. Even gave me a hug.”

“They did?” she asked. She found that odd. Tina, in particular, rarely hugged adults, especially males.

“Did you by chance initiate the hugs?” she asked Rico.

“No. Wha … what kind of question is that?”

“Oh, nothing. Let’s go join them for breakfast,” she mumbled.    

Rico trailed behind holding her hand. He let go when he noticed the girls looking at each other suspiciously, resisting another bout of the giggles.

“That older girl, Rosangelica, does she prefer Spanish? I don’t want to insult her speaking my bad Spanish if she speaks English.”

“She speaks only Spanish. Except for little phrases that get her what she wants, she stubbornly refuses to learn. Extremely bright, but, oh so stubborn.” Joey ignored the face Rico made, a face she knew meant he knew someone else present who was likewise stubborn. “She plans on returning to Mexico and opening a dojo there,” Joey whispered.

Joey, you ought to know how improbable that is, he thought.

“Girls, you’re acting normal … but, strange,” Joey said, speaking louder.

“Oh, just a case of the giggles, that’s all,” Rosangelica blurted in Spanish.

With a frown of suspicion Joey served Rico a plate.

 “Thanks,” he said. He had earlier noticed the abundance of fruits and nuts sitting atop Joey’s kitchen counters, nicely arranged in bowls. The fridge overflowed with vegetables, berries and natural juices. Sniffing the nice looking omelet for the aroma of chorizo, Mexican style sausage, or at least bacon, and smelling none confirmed his worries; she had become a health nut of some sort … maybe even a vegetarian!

“Don’t smell meat,” he said to Joey.

“Yea, forgot to pick up some steak and ground beef yesterday,” she answered. She couldn’t figure out the grin on his face.

“So what’s with all this?” He waved to the counter.

Tina piped in. “Oh, we follow the Maker’s Diet. That’s why we never get sick!”

“You mean Baker’s …?”

“Never mind, I’ll tell you about it some time. Just eat,” Joey insisted, eyeing Tina through squinted eyes.

He happily obliged as he realized what “Maker” meant; he didn’t need to venture there … today. Chewing with enthusiasm and a look of satisfaction on his face made the girls grin.

“So are we visiting or …” Rosangelica begin to ask. Joey stopped her mid sentence.

“Don’t really know,” Rico said flatly. Tough cookie, he thought.       

And that was that. After that the group ate in what Joey thought was an eerily quiet atmosphere; though she had caused it. Irregardless, her unusually quiet chatterboxes were busy gawking back and forth at the two love birds. Mostly, they inspected the stranger—that wasn’t such a stranger—joining them; most likely permanently, they each privately deduced.

Fifteen minutes later Rico looked at the clock. Excusing himself, he walked to the sink, and to the girls’ surprise, proceeded to wash his plate. 

“Wow, he’s even trained!” Tina chirped.

“Hush, girl!” Joey chastised. “Get out there and get the mats ready. And don’t forget that we have two people testing today,” Joey added firmly.

“OK!” they said in unison, in the standard adolescent exasperated tone. 

“Excuse me, sir, we have to wash our dishes,” Rosangelica said.

Rico signaled with his hand for her to hand him the plate.

“Oh, thank you!” she said in Spanish.

Her acceptance surprised him. He expected the I-can-manage-myself-thank-you-very-much attitude that Joey had mentioned on occasion. On top of that she also gave him another quick side hug.

“Thanks again,” she said, and left. Tina did the same.

Joey had stopped chewing, awestruck by the girls’ behavior. How come he gets sugar and spice … and I get fussing, whining and rolling eyes? It’s wrong … completely wrong!

She exaggerated a little; about the rolling eyes at least.

“He’s a keeper,” Rosangelica murmured in Spanish in Joey’s ear as she passed by. Tina did the same in English.

Rico looked at Joey’s incredulous expression. “What?”

“I can’t believe it. ‘Oh, thank you sir!’” Joey mocked. “And they gave you another hug! They rarely give me a simple thank you. That isn’t right. I don’t know what’s gotten into those two … and … I can’t tell if I like it. Frankly, I feel a tad jealous … and slightly undervalued and unappreciated, thank you very much.”

She was as surprised by her petulance as he was put off by it, though he also found it bemusing. He didn’t have a clue that she had a reasonable complaint—though no more than any average loving, nuclear family. But then, he was clueless about much of the intimate things in family life … including hers.

“Joey, I don’t know what you’re mumbling about, but I have to go. Be back in about two hours. Don’t forget to check on Michelle,” he said, as if he really needed to remind her.

He gave her a peck on each cheek. “Forgot to mention … love those freckles in the New Mexico sun.”

As he walked away she followed and admired—before catching herself—the firm behind that even his loose shorts couldn’t conceal. She wondered if the girls had noticed her looking. She figured more than likely. At least they didn’t embarrass her by mentioning it, right then at least. But she would hear about it.

“Don’t forget clothes!” Joey reminded.

After a while Joey heard him come out of the bathroom and turned to see him in an expensive, well-fitting Italian made sports coat and slacks. She still couldn’t get used to how well he cleaned up, but he was going to have to work on the beard.

The girls gawked as he started toward the door.

“Muy guapo, señor.” Rosangelica complimented him, suddenly losing her shyness. She thought he looked handsome. 

Rico nodded courteously and grinned sheepishly.

“Para donde va, señor?”

He pretended not to understand. She glowered slightly and in thickly accented English asked, “Wear are jew go in?”

“Why thank you, about the guapo part. Voy a la librería,” he said respectfully.

“Me permite ... May I go tuu?” she asked.

Joey and Tina stopped their stretching regimen to gawk at her.

“What? Can’t a young lady go to the library?” she said to them in Spanish, not so playfully aghast at their reaction.

“No, no. That’s quite all right. Go if he’ll let you, but he’ll be gone about two hours. Remember we have two youngsters testing in two and a half,” Joey offered, also in Spanish.

Rico sensed something was up. He couldn’t decipher it exactly; these were women after all. The female gender was complex he had long ago concluded and had determined to ignore it or be entertained.

“Bueno. But I can’t wait for you to change into something else.”

“No problema,” Roseangelica said and quickly threw on a large T-shirt, the one she was already supposed to have had on over her workout crop top.

Joey’s policy required girls wearing tight workout or otherwise revealing attire to have an oversized Tee handy to throw on when males arrived. Otherwise, they had to wear the hotter gee top the whole time. Rosangelica, and Tina more so, thought modesty an ancient concept, though each quietly complied. They thought boys should control and keep their eyes to themselves, no matter how much skin they might show.

“Bye girls, chat with you later, especially you girl.” Rico pointed at Joey as he waved. 

Joey watched Rico climb in his truck and resumed stretching. She felt a tinge of discomfort when she noticed the girls giving each other one of those in-the-know looks for a split second as Rosangelica backed out the door slowly, finally shutting the door.

Joey, the mother hen, rarely missed anything.

Rosangelica wondered what Joey’s strange, concerned look meant as she crossed the studio window and awkwardly waved goodbye, stretching away.  

“She seems so self-assured with … a man … all of a sudden,” Joey commented to Tina, as more an interrogation than a rhetorical statement.

Tina nodded in agreement. “Do you think maybe she is beginning to believe in herself? Or could it be puppy love?” Tina said.

Ah, the faucet leaked, and so easily. Joey hadn’t lost her touch. “If it’s puppy love we’re all in trouble, unless Jacob handles this deftly.”

Joey squinted, watching the truck back up and drive off.

Tina, in turn, eyed Joey. Something told her to hold back mentioning that Rosangelica had made comments alluding to being in love, at least twice, at seeing Jacob’s photo on the refrigerator—a younger, buff looking GI in a GQ pose, intended for Joey. “Just an old friend,” Joey always said. 

“Joey … sometimes … you can be soooo dorky. Now tell me … if you please … what would a normal person use instead of deftly? And don’t you dare say…”

“Look it up!” they said at the same time.

“You should’ve been an English teacher…or some…other kind of terrorizing adult!”

Tina, acting frustrated, stood to supposedly get water. In reality, she stopped to look up the word from a tiny e-dictionary she kept concealed in a drawer. Her speed at looking up words was getting as fast and precise as her roundhouse kicks. Joey had a clue that she’d been using some resource in the kitchen, but couldn’t find it.

“Oh, Mrs. Webster, would you like a glass of water?”

“Why, yes sweetie. Thanks,” Joey said as Tina handed her a plastic cup with ice-cold water.

“Didn’t I just handle that deftly, Ms. Joey?”

Joey spewed out some of the water, unable to resist giggling.  

“Why, you surely did young lady,” she said, smiling and wiping her chin.

“Thank you kindly, Ma’am!” Tina wore a big grin. “But I don’t blame her, he’s got quite a bod for an old man … in a nonsexual kind of way of course!” Tina added quickly.

Joey was at a loss for words, which was a very rare thing, as she wiped more water off her chin. She readied to spew out a motherly lecture on how today’s girl teens were way too sexually aware. Way beyond healthy levels and experientially based rather than parent or educationally founded, she would surely add.

Fortunately for Tina, thoughts of what she had been like when she was near Tina’s age—way, way back when—crossed her mind. She hadn’t exactly been ignorant or discreet herself even though she could at least boast that she always stopped before going to the extreme. She would just have to guide this girl more directly than she had Rosangelica.

“You don’t believe me do you? That I’m not like … attracted to him. He’s old,” Tina mumbled.

“Let’s just say I’m a teeny-weeny-little bit wary of how much you know about yourself, as a girl I mean.”

“Wary? What … oh, never mind!” Rolled eyes and crossed arms made the conversation final from her end.

“OK, girl, let’s get serious. Our young Jedis are here,” Joey said, her words not fitting her thoughtful expression.

“Sure,” Tina acknowledged. Outside getting seriously flustered when having to discipline the two girls, Joey rarely showed anyone else her serious or uptight side. And actually, that’s what Tina loved about her friend. Of course, rarely, was the operative word. A couple of uncooperative, high browed administrators and teachers had already felt the heat of her wrath when Tina had had problems, occasionally.

But when it came to karate, her lessons were loosely planned, often spontaneous and filled with practical jokes. Whether teaching karate was Joey’s actual goal, or it was just something that happened along the way, Tina still couldn’t figure out. But she had noticed that trophies and other more substantial victories happened to people—those who had otherwise failed in many aspects of life—who listened to or befriended her mentor, Joey. As painful as it was at times to tolerate her standards.

Joey’s apprentices were mainly preteens and young adults, though there were a few adults who wanted to learn how to defend themselves. Police officers and other government officials also attended separate sessions weekly. Joey preferred working with the youngsters, who could take her jokes in stride. Of course, the income from the government types paid for the fun with the youngsters. And so did the ability to impact the lives of many of them—Tina, her recently promoted blackbelt assistant, being one of them, as painful as it was at times to muster up patience and understanding.

And Tina required much patience. She was fourteen when she came into Joey’s life almost two years before. The young girl already had had a lifetime of disappointments. Her father had long ago faded out of the picture, as had the fathers of countless other children across the country. She also had a mother who tended to be overbearing and controlling, though not necessarily abusive. Unfortunately, she was also incarcerated for the umpteenth time. This promised a continuing sorrowful future—at least until she met Joey. 

The product of Mexican and Vietnamese parents, Tina was a very cute girl who felt self-conscious about her slanted eyes. On top of that, she regularly looked in the mirror and lamented that most other girls her age were taller and almost fully developed; she was flat as a board. For those, and other reasons, she sought a sport to help her make friends and minimize her differences.

Soon she became a star volleyball and soccer player and was headed for a scholarship in either. And in her mind her academic aptitude would also open doors that her self-perceived lack of good looks wouldn’t. Her future looked bright, but even then she wasn’t a very happy person. She still hungered for a deeper connection with another soul; more than what she got in two-hour games and practices.

By happenstance, she met Joey at a karate tournament that her friend had invited her to. She was only there to be kind to her friend, but the experience changed her life. As she roamed around, she noticed that many of the instructors were rather intense. Then she spotted Joey and noticed something different about her. She watched closely. When she saw Joey demonstrate unusually calm behavior even when one of competitors lost badly, Tina thought maybe she had found the kind soul she had longed for.

In the next match, a national title bout for brand new black belts, Rosangelica was losing by a point with seconds left. Then she delivered a precise and forceful knockdown with a kick that gave her two points and the victory.

None of the five judges indicated anything out of the ordinary. But Joey went up to Rosangelica and held a discussion with her in Spanish. It was not in a loud voice, so Tina had to scoot close to hear the conversation. The cheering crowd made it hard to hear, but she could clearly see that it was some sort of argument. Hand gestures gave a clue about the topic.

The last words Joey said, with just a little edge to them, were, “Si acceptas el trofeo, busca otro instructor.” (If you accept the trophy, find another instructor.)

What struck Tina was that Joey’s face registered more hurt and concern than anger. Tina could decipher “otro” and “instructor” but didn’t know the context—until Rosangelica stopped the presiding Grand Master from raising her hand to confirm the decision and awarding her the championship.

The crowd, already drawing silent, became eerily still. At first she tried to whisper to the lady, but the Grand Master directed her to announce it aloud to all the judges. 

Rosangelica, a mixture of disappointment and shame on her face, spoke in Spanish. “I want this victory and trophy with all my heart, not only for me, but also for my friend, Ms. Joey. Only I can’t accept it because I won, or more precisely, didn’t win with honor.”

Honor? What does that mean? Tina had wondered at the time.

“I don’t deserve it because the last strike was illegal. I know the judges didn’t see it, but a fact is a fact.”

Tears still streaming, she began to smile, “To make my friend and confidant proud, and to safeguard my character and testimony the way she has shown me, I wish for my worthy opponent to receive the honor due him.” With that she bowed to her opponent and indicated to the referee to raise his hand.

The poor guy didn’t know what to smile about the most, the victory or the nice hug he received from his gorgeous opponent, tough and sweaty as she was.

Joey would later explain to the incessantly inquisitive Tina about the about the illegal move Rosangelica had used, and what testimony meant. The concept of honor proved much more difficult for her to grasp than the actual definition of the word, but learn it well she did. And with Joey’s and Rosangelica’s painstaking guidance she would grow in obedience, not out of fear, but for honor’s sake.

Up to then Tina had never seen such love and sacrifice. Tears streamed down her cheeks as the other spectators broke into loud cheers and applause. One thing she knew instinctively was what character was; Tina determined in her mind to hook up with Joey and company.

She approached them and blurted out, “Miss…” she said, wiping her nose as Joey turned, “…will you be my teacher too?”

Flattered by the respect, Joey said, “I’m not sure I would be the one to get you a championship trophy. Maybe you should talk to …”

“But you don’t understand … that girl there,” Tina looked at Rosangelica. “She’s a champion in a hundred ways. I would like your help to become like her … and you.”

Tina looked down, waiting to be given some lame excuse about cost or space, or any other excuse for not having time to devote to her.

“Well … Sweetheart …” Joey paused, twiddling her fingers on her chin for effect.

 Rosangelica thought it an annoyingly habitual bit of melodramatics, but it made Joey, Joey.

“… I have this very strong feeling that you are probably already there, being a champion I mean. But, if for some reason you want to hang around a couple of crazy people like us, you would be more than welcome,” Joey continued.

“Miss, does that mean you’ll teach me karate or not?” Tina caught her attitude and covered her mouth. “I’m sorry … I, I just missed your answer,” she said, almost crying again. She had been mentally replaying the list of excuses she had repeatedly heard throughout her life, and they had drowned out Joey’s response. 

“The answer is yes, but I have to ask you a question. Do you think you can get along with this girl here? She would be your actual instructor.”

Tina looked at Rosangelica who was by then wearing a broad smile and making funny gestures. Tina didn’t respond verbally, instead she stepped forward and squeezed Joey, at first tepidly, then forcefully.

Rosangelica joined in chirpily saying in Spanish, “Hey, how about me!”

Tina’s tears and snot mixed together on Rosangelica’s sweaty gee.

“Joey … who are we hugging?” Rosangelica asked.

“My name is Tina,” she said, still sniffling, drawing a quaky breath.

The three laughed and walked to the entrance where Tina’s ride waited. The woman who had given her a ride looked perplexed at seeing two strangers hugging her daughter’s loner friend. The lady knew Tina had few, if any, adults in her life, much less friendly ones. She had doubted Tina was even capable of demonstrating affection.

“Do you know each other?” the friend’s mother asked.

“We do now,” Joey offered.

Everyone introduced each other. Tina gave her friend’s parent Joey’s business card. They discussed the possibilities for Tina. The lady was only a ride and referred Joey to her foster parents. This was the beginning of Tina’s new family.

The two strangers en route to the library sat quietly in Rico’s truck. They turned onto Picacho Avenue off Solano Drive and a minute later into the parking lot across from the former Las Cruces Police Station. They said nothing to each other even as they walked into the library.

“I have something to take care of Rosangelica. So …” Rico finally said, speaking in Spanish.

“OK, I go to … reading sum bukes,” she interrupted in broken English.

I thought Joey said she didn’t like to speak English?  “I’ll be over there later.” He pointed to the just completed cavernous computer lab marked by a large sign above the entrance. “But, I have to get a new card at the front office.”

She nodded and smiled.

“Two hours,” he reminded her in Spanish.

Minutes later Rico sat at a computer station, thanks to the twenty it took to sweet-talk the occupant into offering it up so he wouldn’t have to wait for the next open slot two hours later. For some reason he just wasn’t as patient as he usually was. It would’ve been cheaper to use a coffee shop computer, or his own, but paranoia was already creeping in. Rico pulled his to-do list from his briefcase.

First things first, he thought. Once on the Internet he ran a search for real estate in Las Cruces. A particular realtor’s site appealed to him so he clicked it. He started typing “business” in the web site’s search box, but changed his mind. He remembered the flyer he had grabbed at a house across from Joey’s studio. He had scoped it out and peeked through the windows. He found the listing on that realtor’s web site.

Rico checked the zoning. The description read, “Dual use property. Prime location on Solano, three blocks to NMSU and University Dr.; about 4,000 sq. ft., including 2000 sq. ft. first floor; three bedrooms, two full baths and den upstairs; first floor has small reception area or foyer, small dining room, large kitchen, one large office/bedroom, and a very large formal dining/conference room or two offices. Lease, or lease to own, arrangement possible at $2,800 a month, first month rent due at signing plus a month deposit. Utilities separate. Viewing by appointment only.”

Rico punched the numbers into his cell phone. The virtual reality walk-through offered a peek at exquisite old adobe walls and natural wood ceilings. The view from the full length upper deck outside the master bedroom was the clincher. It brought a smile to his face. 

“Hello, Desert Realty, how may I direct your call?” a courteous voice answered.

“Yes, I’d like to know if that property on South Solano … the old mansion … is it still available?”

“Let me transfer you to the agent handling that property. Please hold.”

“Hello, this is Sandra,”

“Hi, my name is Jacob Rico.”

“How can I help you, Mr. Rico.”

“I’m interested in the property on Solano, the two-story … mansion place.” That sounded smooth.

“Right now, sir, that property is under contract.”

“Are you obligated to lease to that client?” Rico asked crossing his fingers.

“There is a contingency in the hold agreement that allows overriding the hold. Let me double-check. Yes, if another offer is tendered with a signed one-year lease, with at least two months’ lease payment, and it is tendered in cash or a cashier’s check within twenty-four hours of the offer. Still, the client does have first option to match those same terms.”

“Pardon my ignorance. That means what?”

“If you make a much better offer to the owner, let’s say right now, the client that made the first offer would be called and asked to match the offer.”

“I would like to do that. So if I offered to make a six month lease payment up front they would have to match that also?” Rico said, salivating.

“That’s correct, sir. Have you seen the property already? Your name doesn’t ring a bell.”

“No, I grabbed a flyer and did the virtual walk-through thing on the Internet.”

“Good. But if they match your offer they get it.”

“Well, if the owner is willing, I’ll pay one year’s rent at closing and enter into a purchase agreement tomorrow morning. What do you say ma’am?”

“That’s a rather attractive offer … Jacob. Nevertheless, it would be up to the waiting client, sir. If you give me a number I’ll call you with an answer in about two hours,” she said.

“Don’t call to this number, it’s a pay phone … but, I don’t recall the number I do want you to call. Well, if you will, please look up JB’s Martial Arts Academy and leave a Yes or No answer for me. Wait, never mind, Sandra. I’ll call you in two hours instead.”

Jacob Rico, Mister Complicated.

“Yes sir, I’ll wait for your call back. May I ask why at first you wanted me to call JB’s Martial Arts Academy?”

“I just arrived in town and my friend is letting me stay there,” he said, hoping he hadn’t misspoken.

“Oh! Interesting … you must be the Jacob. Well, welcome back. Have a good day.”

Interesting? The? What is that supposed to mean? “Uh, you too, bye.”

Rico hung up. A strange thought came to mind, “What do you know about twins, finger prints, hair follicles, and DNA?

Scouring the web for forty minutes, all he conjured up was a severe headache. He’d have to do it another time; hopefully forget about it, actually. He swallowed a two-milligram morphine pill and closed his eyes. Less than ten minutes later it worked its magic. He considered, for the umpteenth time, to go get the implant that would release precise dosages automatically and give near instantaneous relief; it was effective but just too creepy.

He headed downstairs to locate Rosangelica. He saw her right away as soon as he reached the first floor.       

“Misster!” Rosangelica said in a loud whisper.

She was walking up toward him with a pile of books. Rico tried to get her to stop before crossing the sensors, but she didn’t see his hand signals and kept approaching.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! The louder than necessary alarm sounded. Books went flying and scattered all over as Rosangelica panicked and reached to cover her ears.

He had expected a startle, but not exactly this bizarre reaction. Rico rushed over, kneeled down and tried to calm her down. One of the librarians rushed over and began to pick up the books as she whispered that everything was fine. Rico wrapped his arms around her to help her up.

“Mija, it’s just a silly alarm. Why are you so scared?” he whispered into her ear in Spanish. He led her to the children’s section, away from peering eyes. 

She just murmured that she didn’t know. They sat and he wiped tears from her cheeks. It wouldn’t be until much later that they would both discover that sounds similar to the sensor alarm—wrecker trucks with backing up alarms—had been all around as she lay semiconscious inside the wreckage of her parents' car; the same one they were pulled from, already dead. 

The librarian approached silently and laid the books on the table.

“Sir, do you know this young lady?” she asked.

“Ask her,” he said a little perturbed, nodding toward his young companion.

“Mija, do you know this man?” the librarian asked in Spanish.

Rico had a tinge of fear when Rosangelica hesitated a moment; she could have taken the question literally. She grabbed Rico’s hand and squeezed it as she nodded yes.

“I’m sorry sir, I just had to ask,” she said, lips tight. 

I read the papers too, lady, Rico thought. It was a scenario that repeated itself too many times for his liking whenever he was out and about with the two lovely girls.

“You think me a cry baby now?” Rosangelica said in Spanish through sniffles. “I’m so embarrassed. A blackbelt acting like an infant!”

“You should be,” Rico said, also in Spanish, after some thought as to how to help with such an obviously handicapping fear.

“What? What kind of comment is that?” she said, cheeks flushing again.

Boy, she’s a live wire!  “Well, you forgot to do the dance!”

She stared at him, then said, “You’re crazier than Joey let on.”

“Don’t believe everything she tells you.” He wondered what her raised eyebrow and suspicious look meant. “Anyway, would you like me to show you? Or do you want to sneak out because you’re so embarrassed?” he asked.

Rosangelica felt comforted by his new tone and compassionate look. She recalled that Joey had alluded to being drawn to him for something she couldn’t quite quantify; Rosangelica was sure she now understood what Joey had meant. Of course, she wasn’t going to show him so quickly that he was winning her over.

“You’re mean, Mister,” she said in English while shoving his chest with four fingers. “Joey didn’t mention that about you.”

Joey’s been yapping again! “OUCH! That stung girl, I’m no tough guy, OK. No hitting, pushing, or whatever … just hugs … got it?” he whined only half jokingly as he rubbed his chest. To Rico she seemed glad to have some power over him. Just like a woman, he thought.

“Show me the dance then,” a smiling Rosangelica whispered. Rico wiped one last tear from her high, pronounced, round cheeks. She took hold of his hand and rubbed her cheek with the back of it.

“I think Joey said the truth about everything else,” she murmured, secretiveness in her tone and look.

He wondered how much of what Joey remembered of him was still true.

Rico made a mock disagreeing face and got up. He made a show of getting stretched for the dance. Rosangelica looked around and covered her face as another patron and her child passed by staring at Rico’s antics.

“OK, let’s go,” he said, taking in deep breaths.

He got a book from her pile sitting on the table and frowned. He noticed the English title, “Little House on the Prairie.” Rico was sure that the reading level was way beyond her. Smartly, he said nothing. Instead, he had her stand by a bookshelf. She grabbed a book to pretend to read. Standing about fifteen feet from the sensors she watched, anticipating one of the zany antics she had heard about from Joey, believing very few of them could possibly be true. 

Rico waved subtly and walked toward the exit with an exaggerated nonchalance. The librarians at the desk eyed him curiously. He passed the sensor and it blared again. After a few more steps he twirled around three times on his tip toes and announced quietly to everyone watching, “Oh my, I’m sorry, I do this all the time, please carry on, my apologies everybody.”

With that he strutted back toward Rosangelica. She was beside herself and turned red as he turned around and proceeded to do it again. She hid behind the book and bookshelf. 

“Please sir, stop that!” whispered a very agitated librarian.

Of course, the security guard was also on the way.

Rosangelica followed Rico back to the table trying to refrain from giggling aloud. She looked around to see who might be staring, then decided that checking out books to impress Rico would draw too much more attention. They hastily left empty handed. Rosangelica cringed as they passed through the sensors, one behind the other.

The two orphans were bonding quite nicely, as strange a way as it was.

Rico and Rosangelica arrived at the dojo just in time. Joey had just finished whole class instruction and everyone was on a rest break or stretching. Rico snuck in and waved as he continued on to the basement to chat with Michelle as promised.

Joey and Tina, without any effort at being subtle, closely eyed Rosangelica, who wore a distinct kind of radiance. Rosangelica ignored them and supervised her group of students as they went through their routines.

Downstairs, Rico and Michelle chatted in between her catnaps. She apologized incessantly about mumbling and rambling among other things. Rico grew more annoyed with each apology, but didn’t mention it. He didn’t like repetitive apologies, especially when there was no offense committed.

He got in some reading every minute Michelle gave him a break. He was browsing through a trade magazine, Protective and Offensive Tactics Monthly for equipment he might want to test. Even though he was a staff writer for it, he rarely read his own column, “Equipment Heaven and Hell.” The title was his idea. As corny as he felt about it after the first appearance in a real magazine, a cult following developed within a few issues. He didn’t find anything of interest in this issue, so he tossed it in the trash bin.

Minutes later Joey walked in. There was no smile on her face, more like a pout. She had tried all day to shrug off the conviction in her spirit about him staying in her home. It was perfectly right as far as the world was concerned, but she just couldn’t escape the fact that God had a different design for her life, like for every other child of God. She just had to tell him … some way.

Rico was rather intrigued; she had to be ribbing. Needless to say, he drove to the hotel, again wondering what had broadsided him. Boy, when did she get fanatical?

Maybe one day he would come to understand Joey’s uncompromising devotion to doing right, according to a Godly worldview of course.

CHAPTER 5

The next morning Rico stopped at the bank to buy the required cashier’s checks. From there he headed to the realtor’s office. He had received good news when he called the realtor the day before.

The standard small talk followed as Sandra led Rico to her office.

“So, Mr. Rico … Jacob … your plans still the same?”

“Yes, Sandra. I take it it’ll take a while for the paperwork?”

“I trusted my instincts, considering your local connection, and got everything ready.”

Local connection? “Thanks,” Rico said.

“The figure I came up with is $65,000 for the year; half is $32,500.”

“That’s a bundle,” Rico whistled as he opened his briefcase. “Here’s a cashier’s check for $32,500.”

She had a very pretty smile, a big one.

“I need a key today,” he said, a nervous grin on his own face.

“Yes. Now, let’s exercise your signing hand,” she offered and explained the multitude of e-forms.

He signed in a flurry of scribbles using the light pen, his hand quivering ever so slightly. He was, after all, actually committing to setting down roots; further thought could easily change things.

“Here are the keys, Mr. Jacob Rico. Enjoy your new place and welcome back.”

There goes that welcome back again.  “I … I … don’t recall saying I was from here … did I?”

“No.”

“Oh, good. I thought for a second my brain was going quicker than I planned.”

Sandra laughed, thinking he was joking.

“So how did you know then?” He eyed the sly look, and rather beautiful cat-like eyes.

“You mean besides your credit report?” And Joey mentioning you once or twice?

“Oh, yea that makes sense. I didn’t mean to sound paranoid … or whatever. Anyway, thanks. I’ll see you around.”

That was an odd encounter, he thought. Not at all unpleasant … just odd.

Rico drove back to the dojo. Though he was anxious to brag about his new place, the nauseating headache that had started at the realtor’s office was a whopper. Hiding in the bathroom he pulled his pill bottle from his pocket, but it was empty. He made a flimsy excuse to escape downstairs to find his carry-all, where he kept his spares.

 Joey thought his behavior bizarre, and more so when fifteen minutes later he hadn’t returned. She snuck down to take a peek. He was slouched on the love seat in Michelle’s room, snoring away. 

An hour later, he bounced upstairs. The others were in the studio; from the kitchen he walked in biting into an apple. He asked if anyone wanted to see his new place. At first, there was tension in the air—such as when one walks into a room where people have been going at each other, and they stop only because of an outsider’s interruption. Apparently, there was some contention in the Black household. Rosangelica didn’t look so radiant now.  

“What’s going on here? Joey, is something wrong?” Rico asked. He tried to be concerned, but the only thought on his mind was to show off his new office … and home. “Hello! Is anybody home? I guess not. I’d better go see my place by myself.”

Making exaggerated movements as he edged toward the door didn’t help things. Everyone rolled their eyes, except Rosangelica. Joey found that almost as annoying as the practical joke Jacob was probably pulling. His jokes were only zany and humorous when she was in the right mood.

Still, he was a guest, for now, and deserved some attention; so the three dutifully followed him outside and climbed into his truck.

“Gee whiz, you people move like molasses in the Arctic.”

Rico climbed into the truck and tapped on the steering wheel. The others just stared at him.

“You do realize you’re acting like a teenager,” Joey whispered icily with a demeanor to match. Rosangelica didn’t seem to appreciate the comment, but kept quiet.

“Yup,” Rico answered, making a dorky face.

Tina giggled. At least she was warming up.

Rico drove south on Solano Drive, then west on University to El Paseo. From there he made a right onto Idaho going back up to Solano, then headed south again toward the dojo. Joey almost screamed thinking he had just wasted her time with this little joy ride.

She was about to let out a few choice and unspiritual words as they neared her house, when Rico turned into another driveway—just in time. The driveway into the ten-vehicle parking lot belonged to a Santa Fe style, luxurious-looking, two-story building—a building Joey had always admired—a stone’s throw away from the dojo. Now she knew Rico must be jesting. He just never showed this kind of taste, or hadn’t noticed. And then there was the issue of finances. She didn’t think he had any.

“Jacob you’re crazy. See girls, I told you about this!” Joey muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. “Okay, that was a tad funny. But, now can we get back to my non-fantasy place, please! We have real work to do.”

She continued grumbling as Rico got out of the pickup and started toward the front porch, an elegant one in its simple pueblo style. Walking across the wood planks that composed the porch floor made that mysteriously appealing noise reminiscent of old Westerns. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t really stay angry about his fooling around; after all, it was the main trait that drew her to him. But then again, she was a different, more sensible person now; and she had serious responsibilities to meet.

Joey’s jaw dropped when he actually opened the door and disappeared inside. The girls screamed with delight and rushed out of the truck, leaving the apparent sour puss behind—the one whose heart was now pounding with excitement and couldn’t move.

“Is he staying? He is!” Joey kept repeating under her breath, altogether surprised by her girlish reaction.

Rico popped his head out the door and waved. She waved back, pretending to not be too interested. A slight hop in her step gave her away as Rico disappeared from the doorway again.  Joey got there pronto. The girls’ screaming and jumping resounded from upstairs.

Tina yelled loudly, “Hey, Jacob, I can see right into our dojo from here!” 

Wearing a big grin, Joey moved closer to Rico, who was then doing the gameshow hostess thing as he led her around. She silently savored that Tina had said “our” dojo. So many things were falling into place—just as she had been promised. 

“Mr. Rico, you weren’t trying to get a view of my bedroom, were you?”

“Hey, I …”

Joey shut him up as she grabbed him around the neck and kissed him without reservation. 

“Who’s acting like a teenager now?” he mumbled between kisses.

“Yea,” Tina said, both girls giggling again as they snuck back out of the room. Joey edged away from him.

“See what you’ve done!” Rico said. “Now they’ll giggle all night—you mark my words, woman.”  

Besides each other, they also found warmth in the condition of the original wood beams found throughout the century-old, Spanish-style adobe structure. The building was once called The Little Mansion, where a wealthy Don had lived. And it was every bit a fine place—with retrofitted necessities, of course. A large kiva-style fireplace in the corner of the spacious formal living room—which Rico said made for a suitable conference room—made Joey bubble over even more, if that was possible.

“Isn’t this place … slightly beyond your means, Jacob?” Joey gently opined in Spanish.

Rico looked for a pattern to her language switch. He just nodded and shrugged. His thoughts were only on how perfectly his lady fit in the elegant place; especially in her embroidered, bright blue peasant blouse, never mind well-fitted jeans. Her blue eyes seemed to radiate light. 

“That really answers everything Jacob. Thank you so much for alleviating my worry that you might be flat broke in months.”

Rico’s only answer was another passionate kiss at the front porch. In the outdoors they admired the various flowering plants in the gardens. There was just enough grass around the xeriscaped lawn where people could lounge on blankets. The mix of sweet aromas from a variety of rose breeds, Jasmine, and other flowers, plus the visual treat of fluttering butterflies and buzzing bees about made it a rare rich moment for him; the girls he had just met being mesmerized by butterflies landing on them, soothed his soul even more.   

“I’m really gonna use this front porch and yard. Barbecues every Sunday and on Monday nights, and any other day there’s a game. I’ll even do it for baseball games … naw. Maybe … golf games … ah, a double naw.”

“Excuse me, dreamer …,” Joey interrupted as they started strolling to the dojo, “… but normal people do their barbecuing in the back yard.”

“Well, that’s …”

“Oops, never mind.” She raised her hands up in mock surrender. “I forgot who I was talking about, or to … or whatever,” she added, finishing in Spanish again. She was driving him crazy already.

He would be barbecuing in the front and side yards. He had harped and lamented in numerous letters about people being so closed off in their own worlds, not like in the days of old—the 1950s or so was what he had told her. And the ample-sized front porch and veranda would see extensive use if he had anything to say about it.

“Let me hear you say one time, one little, teeny-weeny time, that you hate my quirkiness!” Rico taunted.

“Well ... if it wasn’t for your quirkiness, fueras bien aburrido. (You’d be outright boring.)”

“Remember that, it’ll serve you well … soon.”

CHAPTER 6

“Wake up, sleepyhead!” Joey said.

Rico, still snoring away, managed to ignore her only the first couple of times she rudely announced morning had arrived. Just then he noted an early-rising pattern—and not an agreeable one. It was his first night in his new place, barren of furnishings as it was. Her mention in one letter years before that she rose at 5:30 every day came to mind. He had thought she was exaggerating. 

“Hey woman, just like yesterday, it’s still too early,” he grumbled.

Rico had given her a key and, of course, an offer of his bed, or sleeping bag as it was. He knew better than to ask such a thing. He was going to need some help—and lots of it. This one special lady deserved proper courting; if only he had some experience in that.

“Seven isn’t too early.”

He didn’t stir.

“Come on!” she begged. “Let’s take a train ride.”

“A what?” he asked, wiping his eyes.

“The bullet train, remember? The newest leg just went operational two months ago!”

Bullet train? He had forgotten; it sounded like something just down her alley. “I’ve got an appointment at the dentist I’m looking forward to, so I need more rest.”

“Oh, you lazy bum! I told you about it two years ago. So come on honey, por mi … tu carinosa amor. (for me … your affectionate love.)”

Needless to say Rico got dressed—she wasn’t playing fair—but he took his sweet time. Meanwhile, he tried to remember what Joey had mentioned regarding the train. A faint recollection of her taking the idea to some people came to mind. It was just talk he had thought; he was going to have to start listening better—and believing.

“Let’s walk,” she whispered, hugging him close.

“To?”

She just smiled and led the way. They strolled past the deli and walked across University Avenue onto the campus. Rico admired the well-kept campus and the impressive architecture of some of the newer buildings. The university had grown much since his departure, way back when. He started feeling his age as teenage-looking students bustled about. Shrugging it off, he took in everything as he and his companion walked hand-in-hand—love-struck youngsters in their own right.

Joey could not help but stare at him, looking fine with still plenty of swept-back, curly black hair and sporting a gray blazer, red silk T-shirt, black slacks, and matching black running shoes.

Across from the business center was a building he hadn’t seen, an imposing dormitory that definitely altered the skyline. Started in 2005, the building served as a focal point for many students’ activities and social gatherings and a focal point of university police patrols as well.

Minutes later they neared the station. Extensive renovations had transformed the Pan Am Center into a regional architectural landmark—renamed Pan Am Central Station, the PACS. The neighboring, newly built Aggie Dome now hosted the university’s athletic events.

They walked into the PACS. The high arching tinted glass sky dome lit up the place beautifully. It reminded him of Crystal Mall in Arlington, Virginia. Of course, the eateries catered to the Southwest taste buds, but the curio and gift shops offered all varieties of Americana. The majority of the commercial businesses were located on what used to be the pit area where the Aggie basketball and volleyball teams played. Midway up, another level had been carved for shops. The actual boarding gates were on the ground level. 

He picked up a promotional flyer that read, “From a standstill, our monorail bullet train reaches cruising speed of up to 250 miles per hour at three-quarter mile. At a top speed of 300 miles per hour it is not as fast as Japan’s bullet train—350 miles per hour—but it is the world’s only solar-powered magnetic levitation train.”

Actually, during two or three months of winter it ran off the grid for half of the day. Likewise, running at maximum speed required grid-power supplementation.

Rico breezed through the pamphlet. It went on to tell about the three-year-old, all privately funded and operated enterprise. The idea had come from a private citizen who did not want to be named, and who recommended it to some key people in the government sector. They turned it down, but forwarded the idea to one CEO who just happened to be interested in the large transportation project. Reluctant at first, the severe energy crisis the previous decade, and with no relief in sight, tipped the scale. 

“Yes, it was partly the potential for big bucks that drew my attention, but mostly the great vision it represented for our environment,” the primary investor was quoted as saying. 

“Sure! Sounds like baloney to me,” Rico murmured as he read.

Rico stuffed the flyer in his back pocket as the announcement from the conductor instructed all to be seated. The fasten-seat-belt lights went on, and the two buckled up. Rico looked around, surprised at how full the cars were—almost 70 percent capacity. The takeoff sure was silky smooth, Rico thought, but not as fast as advertised. Then the train straightened out on the I-10 southbound leg. Within seconds it was cruising at full speed, and the ride was still silky smooth.

The scenery hadn’t changed much. Desert shrubbery still looked like desert shrubbery. Ocotillo, mesquite, sage, and that painful prickly pear lined both sides of the half-under-, half-above-ground rail tube. Two minutes later it approached the Mesquite station, ten miles south of Las Cruces. It stopped in less than a quarter mile without causing heads to lurch forward. Two minutes later the cars were near eighty percent capacity. The take-off and reaching of top speed was quicker this time. There were three more two-minute stops at the La Mesa, Anthony and the Canutillo terminals. The cars were ninety percent full after Canutillo.

Joggers, walkers and bikers could be seen on the left and right sides of the railway on the concrete paved tracks shaded by the solar panels above. The same concrete barrier that shielded the track structure protected the people using the tracks from an errant vehicle.

Rico thought it ingenious. An all-purpose thoroughfare; people with brains live here, he mused.

He looked to his left. To the right of the Transmountain Pass gap was an attention-getting, shiny new structure.

Joey saw him studying it. “Nice, isn’t it? It brought some high-paying jobs into the region,” she said.

“It’s …?”

“That’s the Homeland Security Joint Directorate for Intelligence and Southern Border Management. The locals shortened it to J-DIN.” She watched him show no response and figured it wasn’t of interest.

Just great! he thought. Langley types on my front lawn. So much for a few days notice.     

“They’re probably still in chaos, moving in and unpacking. The core upper echelon is just now transferring in from Virginia. I’m sure they’re thrilled about their trek to the desert. They get a nice, unobstructed view of the Rio Grande Valley though. They’ll probably laugh at our idea of a river,” Joey added, eyeing Rico’s subtle grin.

She wondered what part of what she said he found amusing.

Not operational yet? Hmm. Another thought he kept private.

It was a picturesque structure to say the least; an extensive amount of bronze tinted windows, perched high up on the face of the Franklin Mountains (also part of the Rocky Mountains). It was partly dug into the rock face one hundred feet deep—forty of it inside rock. The secure operations room was in an even deeper cave in the rock, no doubt. The visible part of the structure was almost two football fields wide and three stories high.

The location was a brilliant choice, Rico noted, and easy to secure from any accidental, or planned, physical penetration. Yep, people were getting just a little too brainy in the sunny Southwest for his taste. 

Joey had only a couple of minutes to be annoyed at his thoughtful frown, and romantic-ambiance killing silence. Her seedling ire was interrupted when, fifteen minutes and forty miles since leaving Las Cruces, the train pulled into the El Paso University Station.

The terminal was newer than the PACS, though likewise it shared its parking lot with the adjoining stadium. From there, shuttle buses took passengers on the five-minute trip to downtown El Paso and other central work places and commercial centers.

The love birds did the tourist thing for an hour, walking around downtown El Paso. Rico was ready to head straight home once they toured the Insights Museum and cultural center.

On the trip back to Las Cruces, Joey insisted on visiting the Space Port, located some thirty miles north of Las Cruces. Rico begged out. Joey agreed to let him off the hook if he would agree right then to join her on a flight into space in a few months. He only promised to leave the possibility open.

Ironically, the expensive tickets were courtesy of Joey’s former romantic admirer—competition Rico still didn’t know existed—who had fully expected to be the second part of the twosome, of course. She was still wondering how he took the news about Rico coming into town permanently, since he left on vacation without saying a word—very unlike him.

Back at Joey’s, Rico managed to sneak in a two-hour nap. Joey was out and about nonstop. She was happy not to have him tagging along. He wouldn’t understand all the things she did. She might fill him in later. The two quickly fell into a routine; he managing some writing, and lots of sleeping; she doing her thing. He was already feeling comfortable and thinking he just might fit in, until that evening.

Joey and the girls were in the room just off the practice room at Joey’s place. It served double-duty as Rosangelica’s bedroom and family TV room. A newly delivered 46-inch LCD television hung on the wall, courtesy of Rico. Roseangelica had a way with decorating Rico noticed; she had a very feminine, sophisticated touch. Stuffed animals peeked out from every nook and cranny. There didn’t seem to be an affinity for a particular type of creature like most people who collected things seem to have.

Rico arrived during a set of marathon commercials and decided to join them. He edged over by Joey before realizing what they were watching—The Greatest Story Ever Told. As he sat down, the girls gave Joey a funny look, one Rico caught from the corner of his eye. He tried acting interested but soon was out cold.

He awoke later to hear an ongoing conversation among the ladies.

“Joey,” Tina piped up. “Don’t take this wrong or anything, because I am trying to understand … and maybe believe … but how do we know it wasn’t a fake thing, or just a story?”

“That’s a reasonable question, girl. The answer is prophesy, which is something stated before it happens. Hundreds of years before, it was said and written that it would happen. One place specifically is in Isaiah,” Joey offered in a hush.      

“But … that’s still from the Bible, and we don’t know if it is reliable … or is there information about Jesus coming back to life outside of the Bible?”

Joey was taken aback at the teen’s analytical sophistication. “As a matter of fact, I asked that question of someone years before I believed. Someone gave me a book … I threw it on my shelf; I didn’t read it until recently, in fact. You’re really serious about an answer, girl?”

Tina nodded.

“You’ll have to do some studying.”

Tina nodded again, not so emphatically this time.

“At the library, find the works of the non-Christian Roman historian, Flosifus, related to the resurrection time frame and then some other writers. At a Christian book store, buy the book Sherlock’s Faith by Frank Harber. I’ll loan you Evidence That Demands a Verdict by Josh McDowell. That last book offers answers to the Bible’s reliability and accuracy as a historical document. And Harber says there is no other document on the face of the earth with more copies of the original texts still in existence.”

“But … why don’t you just tell …” Tina stopped herself.  “Oh, well. Where’s the cash?”

Rico had been listening with his eyes closed. Once again he wasn’t prudent, speaking before thinking. “Joey, why in the world are you confusing these girls?”

Joey gave him a look he didn’t see and it would have sufficed for any sensible person to tread carefully; but even if he had seen it … well.

“How’s that, Jacob?” she said, slowly drawing out his name.

 “You are talking to them as if the story, or … fable … is based on any facts … or reality.”

He could have still made it unscathed out of the hole he was digging by heeding Joey’s annoyed look, but he also missed Rosangelica’s and Tina’s glare and continued. “Do you guys talk about Aladdin … or The Little Mermaid … like that? Or about ….”

“Mister …” Tina said. “You’re challenging my intelligence. And if you plan to be around me, you’d better never talk to Joey like that again. Because I’ll kic…”

“Tina!” Joey said, saying her name like only a mother can.

“Well, I’m not gonna stand still and watch the person I respect and love the most in the world be spoken to with such … such … lack of respect. He can go to …”

Taken aback at Tina’s first verbalized feelings for her, Joey didn’t know what to say. Even then she was about to cut Tina off with a verbal lashing when Rosangelica reached over and gently place a hand on Tina’s shoulder.

Rico didn’t miss the power of the connection between the two. Though a little late, he did catch a glimpse of Rosangelica’s glare, and he quickly looked away.

She rose to her feet and left with Tina in tow.

Rico caught part of another barb when Tina said through gritted teeth as they walked away, “I thought Joey said he was bright?” Just as quickly he heard Rosangelica give her a firm hush.

Joey rose to leave. She really didn’t want to say anything, but stopped and turned. “We’ll agree to limit our religious stuff around you, but you really, really, need to control your mouth about matters that are real and important to us.”

Rico weighed what smacked him harder; the fact that she walked out without a gentle touch—like other times when she had been much angrier—or that once again he sat in another place, as comfy as it was, utterly alone.

Is there some easy trick, a pill, out there … somewhere … to help me break this nasty, lonely existence life has handed me?