Skeletons in the Rain

CHAPTER 36 | 1 HOUR AND 50 MINUTES AGO

Marta moved toward the middle of the street, more afraid of what she'd see when looking into her husband's eyes than at the possibility of being run over by a vehicle.

Her breath caught in her throat when she heard his car. It hadn't always been like that. Marta used to love waiting for him to arrive home. The sound of his Malibu's engine dying in their driveway meant their nights together were about to start: a delicious dinner she'd cooked for him, nice small talk in the kitchen while she did the dishes afterward, an intimate kiss on the couch after the usual conversation about, well, anything except work. Never work! Because that would upset her. Oh, how she loved him. But love couldn't lessen the fear tonight.

If I look at him in the eyes, will I find him there? Marta held the pictures tighter to her breast as Abe's car skidded to a stop in front of her, the heavy rain falling through the beams of its headlights. She glanced at the gray clouds above, but the thick drops forced her to keep her eyelids shut. At least the rain is warm

"Honey?" Abe asked, slamming the car door behind him after stepping out.

"Did you do it?" Her tone begged for an answer.

"You are in the middle of the road." He reached out to grab her arm. "I could have killed you."

She shook his grip and held out one of the pictures she had in her arms.

"Remember this Christmas Eve? We bought Ofelia a chemistry set for children. I know she had a hard time smiling, and eye contact never came easily to her when she was little, but this smile... It was real. I'm sure it was."

He couldn't keep her gaze.

"Hon, you are soaking wet, and this is not the place to—"

"This trip to the beach." She held out another picture. "When was it? I think—"

A horn blaring behind her startled them.

"Drive around us, asshole!" Abraham shouted.

The pickup truck driver continued honking the horn as he drove off up the street.

Staring at that sunny afternoon in the photo, Marta thought of Ismael and his puzzles and his intricate scale models. Of her husband teaching a disinterested Ofelia how to cartwheel on the beach. Then she flipped through another photo; one of her family, including Marcelo, throwing water balloons at each other during a Carnival weekend so many years ago. And that brought the memories of all those Saturday mornings filled with cartoons and Froot Loops for breakfast.

This is it. Marta concluded that what she needed was new memories with them. Yes. This is what will make the fear go away, quiet the demons. To keep them alive and fill her home with new pictures. If there is air in our lungs, there's hope in our hearts.

"Honey," she whispered. Her voice was a prayer. "Did you do it?"

"I should have killed him."

Marta sighed in relief.

He is still in there. I've never asked him if he's ever shot his gun on duty, but if he has, it's never corrupted his heart. Because revenge never forced his hand to pull the trigger.

"No," she said. "You made the right choice."

He started weeping.

Without hesitating, she dropped the pictures and hugged her husband, nuzzling her nose against his neck.

"You are not a monster. Do not become one because Ismael's lost his soul."

"Marta, you don't understand."

"We'll figure out a way to bring him back after you find our daughter."

"You do not know what I—"

"Your secrets are not yours. They are ours. Our burden to bear as man and wife."

He pulled back, his eyes wide with surprise. "I only meant to protect you from the truth."

"That's okay. I've found out some of your secrets, and I don't mind." Marta nodded. "It didn't take me long to discover you were taking Ofelia to the woods to hunt animals. I don't approve of it, but it's not the worst thing."

Something in Abe's expression changed, and she struggled to read him. "I should have told you," he said. "About that, about everything."

"Then tell me."

"I can't."

"Honey, what does Ofelia think you did to Marcelo?"

"I didn't do anything."

That's two 'Our Fathers' and a 'Hail Mary' for you, Abe. A brief rush of disappointment tightened her jaw. It was not her place to judge him, especially since she knew all too well the weight of carrying secrets herself. Maybe if I share my sins, the truth will come out.

"Hon, we all keep things to ourselves." She lifted her damp dress to reveal a fresh and narrow set of scars on her right thigh.

"My God, Marta!" He pulled her hand down. "Did you do this to yourself?"

After it became apparent he had no idea what to say, she explained to him that everyone does their best to keep their demons quiet, even if it means screaming in their stead.

"How could I have not seen this?" A pause. "I'm blind. Somehow I failed to see you, and Ofelia, and Ismael... and Marcelo."

"You are only human." She drew a deep breath. "But you and my baby are my everything."

"I didn't see you. I wish there were enough words to describe how sorry I am for making you invisible." Abraham's phone beeped, and he stared at the screen. It seemed the Skulls had taken the bait. "I have to end this. When I'm back, I'll tell you everything."

"Bring him alive, hon. Swear to me that you will find our baby girl without becoming a killer. Promise me you won't become a monster like him."

"I promise."

"Honey!"

"Yeah?" he said, after getting back in the car and radioing for backup.

"Please, get milk when you are done. I want to have cereal for breakfast this Saturday."

A brief, hopeful smile crossed her husband's lips as he stepped on the gas.