Chapter 30
Hernán explored the cottage more while trying not to listen in on Colin’s conversation with Brandon.
“I just didn’t want anyone to treat me differently, Brandon. That’s why I never talked about it. I guess Ethan must have figured it out though… I know, and I’m sorry… Yes, we’ll talk more when things calm down.”
Colin disconnected with a sigh. “He thinks I lied to him, by keeping such a big part of my life hidden,” he said miserably to Hernán. “I didn’t mean to, but I see his point.”
Hernán put a hand on his shoulder. “He’s your friend and he’ll forgive you. Your family ultimately won’t make a difference to him.”
Colin nodded.
Since neither man had slept well the night before, and there was nothing they could accomplish just then, they decided to nap. The short rest helped, and Hernán woke to find Colin pressed along his back, his arm over Hernán’s waist. The warmth and weight of his boyfriend stirred feelings of safety and love that muted, at least for a time, the fear he’d suffered since word of the gossip item hit. Was it really less than a day ago?
When the security team arrived an hour later, they introduced themselves as Nick and Melody. Nick was African-American, with a shaved head and broad shoulders. He stood probably just under six feet, and seemed whipcord thin under his black ribbed sweater. Melody was Caucasian, not tall—perhaps five and a half feet—but her frank gaze and loose stance signaled she was not to be fucked with. She wore her dark blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, and had on a body-hugging jacket with slim black pants.
Colin showed Nick and Melody to the two guest rooms on the second floor and left them to get situated. Downstairs in the living room a little later, Hernán saw Melody moving around outside, eyes running over the front of the house. He guessed she was checking on ways in and out of the cottage.
Nick joined them and sat on the edge of a long leather ottoman. “Okay, guys. We’ve had a briefing from New York about the publicity item and your concerns. I’d like Mel and me to remain pretty low-key so we don’t attract attention that could lead to the press finding you here,” he said. “Suits would stand out, given how quiet the town seems to be this time of year. If you agree, we’ll just wear casual clothes. When you go for a walk or out to eat, one of us will accompany you at a reasonable distance. We’ll be close enough we can get to you if anything happens, far enough away that it won’t be obvious you have security.”
Hernán had no experience with any of the arrangements Nick described. Since Colin seemed satisfied with the plan, he nodded his agreement too.
“Good,” Nick said. “We’ll stay out of your way as much as possible for the duration.”
Colin asked, “How long do you think that might be?”
Nick shrugged. “You have to tell us. How long do you expect you’ll need security?”
Colin shared a look with Hernán. “I’m not sure yet,” he said reluctantly. “This all just blew up yesterday. We haven’t had time to think far enough ahead to come up with a solution.”
“We’re here for you if you want to discuss any ideas. In the meantime, Mel is scoping out surveillance locations. I’ll work upstairs.”
“Thanks, Nick,” Colin said. “We feel better with you here.”
Nick gave a thumbs-up and left the room.
Alone again with Colin, Hernán said, “I have no idea how to get out of this mess. I know we can’t stay here or hide forever.”
Colin looked troubled, but he nodded agreement. “This is a stop-gap, sure. It gives us time to get your application wrapped up and on file. Once that happens, I understand the risk from removal by ICE at least will go down. Maybe then we can go to the police about a longer-term fix. Let’s raise that with David and Sofia on the next call.”
Hernán had no better ideas. They self-consciously settled on the couch, aware of strangers moving around in the house, to watch a TV mounted over the fireplace.
Still restless an hour later, the beautiful autumnal afternoon beckoned them outside. With Melody following at a short distance, they strolled down Pleasant Street together and turned onto Commercial. After a stop at Joe’s Coffee, they continued their walk toward the center of town.
Through gaps in the buildings, Hernán could spy the calm waters of Provincetown Harbor. From conversations overheard in September, he suspected nearly all the boats were gone to winter storage or warmer climates. In any event, what he could see of the harbor looked empty.
They passed only a few people. Many of the bars and restaurants had signs up thanking everyone for a good summer season and promising to open again in April or May. Blank windows and hand-lettered “closed” signs created an air that he and Colin had been left behind.
After the vibrant and busy summer Hernán had spent living and working there, what remained seemed like an empty theater. The play had ended, the crowds were gone, and the lights had come up on an empty stage.
“Nantucket gets like this too,” Colin said as they walked. “Maybe not as dramatic, but there’s a big shift when the season ends and the crowds go home.”
“It’s very melancholy, isn’t it?” Hernán asked. “There are so many people crowding Commercial all summer that sometimes you can’t move. And now, poof, we can walk down the middle of the street. But I’d rather have the crowds back.”
They walked as far as MacMillan Wharf and out to the end of it. Fishing boats still lined the pier but the pleasure crafts were mostly gone. Cormorants carpeted a narrow breakwater, before which a lone, green fishing boat bobbed in its protection.
They finished their coffees, leaning shoulder to shoulder, lost in thought.
When they finally turned to walk up the wharf, Melody was pretending to take photos of the harbor with her phone. They ignored her, as instructed, and drifted back to the house.
Later, they sat with the two guards around the kitchen island. Colin had persuaded Hernán during their walk that complete disclosure was their best bet for soliciting advice, so he told the security team about some of what he’d been through, including his immigration status. They bandied about how to determine whether Hernán was at risk and what to do about it, but no clear ideas emerged.
Sofia texted that she’d emailed the draft asylum papers to Colin’s email account. He opened David’s laptop, connected it to the printer and made a copy for Hernán to review. After offering to make tea, he left Hernán at a small desk to work through the document.
Hernán expected that reading his own story would be difficult, but Sofia’s framing of it gave the emotional distance needed to focus on its accuracy and completeness. She’d adopted a theme that Hernán had suffered a lifetime of abuse for being gay, in a country where homosexuality continued to be anathema. He’d had no one to turn to when Cuernos targeted him as a gay man—not family, nor church, nor police. She had captured it all. The terrifying encounter as a child, the punishing response by his caregiver, the torment by Cuernos, and the nightmare of the journey with the other pollos.
Sofia left out the graphic details of the time he was trapped with Lonnie in the border town, mentioning only that “I was raped during the journey, and I have since learned that I contracted HIV as a result.” She also omitted all but oblique references to Albert, Andrea and Isela.
The narrative concluded with the words, “Eventually, family members lawfully in the United States paid the ransom necessary to get me over the border.”
It was only when Hernán lifted his pen to make some edits that he realized how badly his hands shook. The most fleeting references to Lonnie still made him sweat, and a cold shiver ran down his spine. The name brought back the vile feeling of his helplessness, his impalement. Hernán could see again the predatory, possessive stare Lonnie would throw at him across the dining room. He saw the coyotes coming through the dormitory for him…
“Are you all right?”
Nick’s voice in his ear made Hernán jump. He looked around wildly. “What? Oh. Nick. Sorry about that.”
“No worries,” the guard said gruffly. “You looked upset.”
Hernán flushed and stared at the document before him. He’d intended to edit but his pen pressed so heavily into the pages on top that it had torn them. In an unsteady voice, he said, “Some memories hit me hard.”
Nick nodded and backed off, but a few moments later Colin came in from the kitchen. He crouched by Hernán’s chair.
“Do you want to talk about anything?” he asked gently.
Hernán looked down at him, dazzled all over again by the compassion he saw in Colin’s eyes. His instinct was to conceal his emotions, but Colin deserved more. “It’s the part about Lonnie. Even seeing his name makes me feel…I don’t know. Weak. Afraid.”
“But you aren’t, Nán. You survived him.”
“It left scars inside,” Hernán whispered. “My disease and my fear.”
“Badges of honor,” Colin insisted. “It was terrible but you won in the end. You’re fighting back with the compassion you show at the immigration center.”
Hernán managed a small smile. “How do you find the good in every situation? I wish I could do that.”
Colin returned a chuckle. “It’s easy. I’m in love.”
Hernán ran a hand through his hair and blinked back tears. He nodded, unable to speak.
Colin continued, “Do you want help with the revisions, or to talk through any part?”
Shaking his head, Hernán said, “No. Sofia did a great job. I can’t think of anything important she left out of the narrative. All I’ve done is add a few details I remembered as I read through her summary.”
“What about the portion with the legal argument, about why you deserve asylum?”
“I haven’t read that section yet.” Shyly, Hernán said, “Can we read it through together? I’d appreciate your perspective.”
“Of course.” Colin looked so pleased Hernán berated himself for not asking immediately. “Let’s sit at the kitchen island to go over it.”
It was nice, there in the kitchen. Bright sunshine poured in through a bank of windows and a skylight. They read through each page of Sofia’s argument, jotting notes or questions here and there. The argument seemed compelling. She wove together facts from Hernán’s story with materials Colin had provided to demonstrate El Salvador’s general intolerance for LGBTI and HIV-infected people and its unwillingness to protect victims or prosecute offenders. To those strands, she applied the legal standard for CIS to grant Hernán asylum.
By the end of the three-page brief, Hernán wanted to cheer. Just reading it all gave him the first real spark of hope he’d known. It might actually work. He might actually be able to stay in the country legally. With Colin.
“It’s really good,” Colin said. “Sofia always does great work for the clients we send to the law firm way, but this is a step above. We should use David’s scanner on these pages to get our comments to her.” He blushed. “Do you know how? We have assistants at the center, so I’ve never learned.”
“How would you survive in the TARDIS, cariño?” Hernán teased gently. “But yes, I think I can do it. Would you like some more tea? I was thinking it would be nice to sit on the patio in the sunshine for a little while.”
“I’ll make it while you scan.”
Hernán took away the documents and heard Colin ask Melody and Nick if they’d like some tea as well. Both agreed, so after Hernán had scanned and emailed comments back to Sofia, the four of them sat at the table on the front patio.
The security team radiated readiness to act if anything happened, even as the warm afternoon sun relaxed Hernán in a way he hadn’t expected. The sense of being protected—not just by the guards but by Colin, Sofia and David, and even Colin’s parents—brought Hernán unexpected insight.
This must be why Colin is so bright and trusting. He’s always had this.
Suddenly Melody sat up straight in her chair. The apparent languor of a woman drinking tea vanished to reveal a trained soldier. Nick also stiffened before Hernán and Colin even had time to understand what had triggered their response.
“Nán!” they heard, and quick footsteps.
Melody leapt from her chair and actually cleared the picket fence before Hernán could call out, “It’s my cousin.”
A strangled sound came from the other side of the mounded grasses. When Hernán and Colin made it to the fence to look into the street, Melody had Rudy on his knees, one arm bent behind his back. Rudy looked terrified.
“It’s okay, Mel,” Colin called. “This is Rudy. Hernán’s cousin.”
She nodded, helped Rudy up and apologized brusquely. Rudy looked from her to Nick and then finally at Hernán, wide-eyed. “What’s going on?”
“Come in to the yard, Rudy,” Hernán said. “We’ll explain.”
Seated again on the patio, they told Rudy about the security arrangements Colin’s father had initiated.
Rudy still seemed stunned, though his gaze returned frequently to Nick. “I just got off the bus a few minutes ago and ran here. I’m so glad to see you, Hernán. And you too, Colin. I saw the tweet. Oh my god, Nán, you looked fabulous in that picture. Did you read the comments? I counted at least fifty marriage proposals, and twice as many indecent propositions.”
Hernán felt his cheeks burn. “No, I didn’t read any of them.”
“I did,” Nick volunteered. “Wanted to see if there were any direct threats to focus upon. We didn’t find anything specific, and nothing that connected you to New Jersey or to Provincetown.”
“Well, that’s good news,” Rudy purred at Nick. “You’re so helpful.”
Nick seemed nervous at the attention, and Melody looked like she was choking back a laugh. She said, “I’m going to do a perimeter check, Nick. I’ll do a tight loop and then a broader one.”
Hernán brought Rudy up to speed on what they’d been doing.
“It sounds like you don’t know how long you’ll stay in Provincetown,” Rudy observed. “Well, at least I can keep you company.”
“No luck with a job in Boston?” Hernán asked.
Rudy sighed dramatically. “No. I think I went to fifteen different restaurants and bars yesterday and this morning. Unless I want to bus tables or wash dishes—no offense, Nán, but that would suck—nobody wants to hire me. I need to let my landlord know soon if I’m keeping the apartment through the winter. I don’t have any work here, but I don’t want to let the place go until I get set up in Boston.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sure something will turn up for you,” Hernán said. He looked at Colin. “I didn’t mention before that Rudy is having trouble finding a job. Could he come to DC with us to look there?”
“Of course,” Colin said enthusiastically. “We have plenty of room, Rudy. You’re welcome to stay with us while you job-hunt, for as long as you need.”
Rudy squealed in excitement as Hernán pulled Colin close for a kiss. “Thank you, corazón,” he breathed into Colin’s ear. “You’re the kindest man I’ve ever met.”
Even Nick looked cautiously pleased for Rudy, but he said to Colin, “I guess we still don’t know how long you’ll want to stay here before you return to DC.”
That comment sucked away the enjoyment. Colin glanced at Hernán, and then shook his head. “Not yet. We’ll figure something out though. Rudy, I think you should go ahead and give notice at your apartment. Surely this will be resolved before you need to move out.”
“Oh Colin, I’m going to love you as an in-law,” Rudy sighed. Looking at Hernán, he made a long face. “Why couldn’t I have been the one to pull mister man here out of the harbor?”