Chapter 7
That evening, Colin took a circuitous route from his inn to Sara and Jane’s address so he could spend more time exploring Commercial Street. Since it was a Sunday, many of the weekend tourists had gone. The town seemed quieter than on the day before, or even that morning.
Reaching a gap between shingled houses, he spotted a sign indicating a public path and followed it to the beach. The tide was in and so he stood for a while next to a row of small houses lining a pier and watched a few boats bob at anchor.
The water was glycerin-clear at the shore, deepening to azure as his gaze tracked to the Long Point lighthouse in the middle distance. Brandon had pointed it out to him as they walked through town on Saturday. Beyond the spit of land on which the lighthouse rested, a distant blur that was more of Cape Cod curled around the bay.
His phone trilled, making him jump. He hauled it out of his pocket quickly, hoping for a text from Hernán. His father’d confirmed earlier Uncle Samuel had a frank and unpleasant telephone call with Gerald Nimble, and he believed the message had been received. Still, Hernán hadn’t contacted him about whether Nimble did indeed drop his extortion.
The incoming text read, “First stop!” It was from Brandon, attaching a picture of David and him mugging at Nelson’s Column in London. In the picture, David’s lips were pressed to Brandon’s blond hair. The huge grin on Brandon’s face brought out one on Colin’s. It was sweet and Colin typed a short reply, with a recommendation for one of his favorite restaurants in London.
Only when he put his phone away did he notice the usual regret he felt upon seeing Brandon and David happy together was missing. In some ways the absence of emotion alarmed him, but in others it was a relief.
He had long tried to accept Brandon and David belonged together. Even so, he couldn’t quite let go of his own fantasies of what might have been, if he’d had the balls to ask Brandon on a date before he ever met David. Of course they might not have worked out at all, but it would have been nice to know. Instead, for months he’d pined for Brandon from a distance at their various group gatherings, playing soccer or kickball, or meeting at a bar for trivia night.
Another member of their group, Ethan Schinderman, similarly had eyes for Brandon. Ethan was always loud and dramatic and the center of attention. Colin realized early on that was Ethan’s way to deal with the fact he was overweight and the least athletic man in their group.
It didn’t help that Ethan had bushy hair and his ill-fitting glasses often slipped down his nose. He was funny, though, and Colin used to think he was kind. That was probably why he agreed to go on a date with Ethan.
It’d been a disaster. Ethan brought up Brandon constantly, poking at Colin with remarks about their friend, trying to get a confession about how Colin felt. Wary, Colin had avoided revealing anything, and just remarked on general qualities like Brandon’s endless knowledge of trivia.
Ethan had gotten drunk as the date went on, sharing more about how he crushed on Brandon than he managed to elicit from Colin. It seemed to be a defense thing, as if an agreement they both longed for the same man would be a shared interest on which to build another date or a relationship.
At some point, the level of detail Ethan knew about Brandon’s life became slightly alarming. Colin pleaded an eight a.m. work meeting and ended the date early. He and Ethan stayed cordial in a group setting, but were often awkward around each other. When Ethan asked Colin on another date, he turned it down.
Then Brandon brought David to one of their kickball games. Ethan went out of his way to make David feel ashamed he was twenty-two years older than Brandon. He even managed to suck Colin into his spiteful whirlpool.
Things had never been easy between Brandon and Ethan afterwards, or between Colin and Ethan for that matter. They all stayed members of the same sports group, but the damage Ethan had done was too deliberate to allow friendship. Still, Colin often noticed Ethan’s eyes tracking Brandon across the kickball field or wherever they met. Yet Brandon said Ethan made no attempt to apologize for his malice with David.
Colin frowned at the harbor. Why was he thinking about Ethan so many months later? Perhaps it was the realization that, for a long time, he’d been as guilty as Ethan of carrying a torch. When Brandon and David broke up over the summer, seemingly for good, Colin genuinely sorrowed for Brandon’s heartbreak.
It hadn’t stopped him from taking advantage of the split, though, had it? He asked Brandon out and they went on two dates, but it became clear instantly to Colin that Brandon was nowhere near over David. Then Brandon was injured a few weeks later, in the hit-and-run incident that ultimately cost him his leg. Colin had been in the emergency ward when he heard a groggy and injured Brandon call out for David.
Colin wished he could say he hadn’t hesitated to make the call. At least no more than a few minutes passed before he searched for David’s number on Brandon’s phone to let him know Brandon was in the hospital. It was the right thing to do. When he overheard Brandon admit to David he still loved him, he tried hard to let his joy for his friend be enough. That tragedy brought David and Brandon back together and a few months later they were engaged.
Colin was weak, he knew. It had taken time to move on from his selfish regret. But looking at the picture of Brandon and David in London, he felt nothing but contentment. That surprised him at some level. Even a few days earlier, his pining for Brandon had ended with a surprise dunking in the same harbor he now regarded.
So what had changed? He tried hard not to think of his stupid, useless attraction to a straight man that had apparently taken over the space where his crush on Brandon had resided.
He sighed as a breeze rippled the water before him, rushed onshore and blew his hair into his eyes. Someday, maybe he would finally meet someone who was actually available to him.
About fifteen people had already gathered in Jane and Sara’s dining room when Colin entered. He set down the dessert he had purchased earlier from Connie’s Bakery, and then let Sara introduce him around. That night, she wore her dreads gathered and tied with a black, green and yellow cloth. The guests were mostly townies who lived year-round in Provincetown, though one lesbian couple lived in New Hampshire. Jane pressed a drink on him, so he nursed a vodka tonic as he chatted.
Eventually, Sara separated him from the small throng and asked for his help in the kitchen. A gleam in her eye alerted Colin, so he was ready. When she passed him a hot casserole dish from the oven, she said casually, “By the way, I’m curious. How do you know Hernán?”
He certainly wasn’t about to discuss the situation with Nimble, so he went with the truth he felt able to share, embarrassing though it was. “I don’t know how obvious it was, but I got pretty wasted at the reception Friday night.” The twitch of Sara’s lips told him it had probably been obvious indeed. He groaned.
“Anyway, I went staggering along Commercial Street to get sober, and ended up falling into the water, drunk off my ass. Hernán was passing by, saw me fall and dragged me out. I wanted to take him to lunch to say thanks, though he wouldn’t let me pay.”
Sara’s evaluating gaze reminded Colin she was a journalist by training, and probably sensed there was more to the story. When she just smiled, he relaxed slightly. She said, “That Hernán, and his cousin Rudy. They’re some of the nicest workers in town this summer. Rudy flirts with everyone.” Sara rolled her eyes comically, and then sharpened her gaze. “Come to think of it, though, I’ve never seen Hernán flirt. Or go out to lunch with anyone, woman or man.”
Colin blushed as she came at him from a different angle. It was as if Sara could see right through him, and figured out how to pry information loose. Or perhaps she read his growing attraction and wanted to warn him off.
He cleared his throat. “That’s surprising. I mean, given how good-looking he is.”
“There’s a story there but I haven’t been able to get it out of them.” Colin might have looked nervous because she leaned in close. “Don’t mind me. I can’t help being nosy. I actually aspire to know less than people think I should.” Colin chuckled appreciatively, and Sara continued, “I promise, even if I knew the story, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt those nice men.”
Jane joined them in the kitchen and lightly rested a hand on her wife’s waist. “Colin, has she extracted your life story yet?”
Sara answered for him. “Oh, we were chatting about Hernán and Rudy, ooman. We haven’t even gotten to Colin yet.”
Jane laughed. “This is one of the hazards of being a townie. After the tourists leave for the season, there’s not much to do besides gossip.” At Sara’s squawk of protest, Jane grinned and changed the subject. “Have you heard from David and Brandon?”
Colin showed them pictures Brandon had sent of the trip so far. They chatted for a few minutes longer before they returned to their party.
He became aware he had an eye on the clock as it approached eight. Hernán had said he’d be off work then. Colin replayed the ugly conversation with Nimble he’d overheard, when the dick had told Hernán to come to his house that very evening at eight-thirty along with Hernán’s boss. If Hernán wasn’t confident Uncle Samuel’s message had gotten through Nimble’s egotistical skull, he might feel like he had to go along with the extortion.
Colin’s stomach churned as he imagined that handsome man walking into Nimble’s bedroom, walls closing around him like a Venus flytrap. He pictured Nimble from the day at Veranda, with his sagging jowl, plastic looks, and obvious attempts to conceal his age. Pasty hands holding his glass. The idea of those hands grasping at Hernán was infuriating, and he set aside his paper plate of food half-uneaten.
His mother had raised him to glide smoothly through social events, though. He wandered around the house, mingling, but he itched to know what was happening with Hernán. The clock he could see inched slowly closer to eight. He couldn’t think of a good way to find out what was going on. They had exchanged cell numbers, but texting didn’t feel right. It might imply he didn’t think Hernán could handle himself.
When Hernán called out a hello to Jane and Sara at five minutes after eight, Colin nearly went slack with relief.
He watched from the dining room as Hernán kissed the hostesses on the cheek and greeted many of the other locals. He seemed distracted, though, and his head craned around the room. Sara whispered something in his ear and his gaze shot to where Colin stood. A smile lit up his features.
Colin’s heart skipped a beat. Stop it. He’s straight. There’s nothing for you there besides friendship.
He resisted the urge to rush over to Hernán, partly because he was aware of Sara’s all-too-knowing eyes on him. Shortly, Hernán joined him in the dining room and gave a quick sideways jerk of his head.
Colin followed him to the currently empty kitchen. Hernán turned to face him, smiling more naturally than Colin had yet seen. In a low voice, he said, “It worked. I had Rudy text Gerald and he sent back, ‘Tell him I changed my mind.’”
“I’m so glad,” Colin exclaimed. “It’s probably the first time anyone has refused that prick.”
Hernán’s arms twitched, like he wanted to hug Colin. Instead, he blushed but stuck out his hand. “Thank you,” Hernán said fervently as Colin shook with him. “You don’t know what it would have cost me, to go there.”
Softly, Colin said, “I’d like to know. If you’ll tell me.”
Hernán blinked at him a few times. He wetted his lips as if preparing to speak, but suddenly dropped Colin’s hand instead and looked away. “Not yet,” he said toward the floor.
‘Not yet’ means sometime he might. Colin contented himself with the thought. Aloud, he asked, “Are you hungry? Someone brought a fantastic mac and cheese with lobster.”
Hernán gave him a crooked grin. “Tourist,” he teased. “After just one summer here I’m sick of lobster.”
“How can anyone get sick of lobster?” Colin acted scandalized to play along with the change of subject. “It’s got to be the most decadent seafood there is.”
“I’ll take a good sopa de siete mares anytime.”
“Soup of the seven seas,” Colin translated. “Let me guess. It’s got fish in it?”
“Fish, crab, squid. All kinds of good stuff.” He gave Colin a shy smile. “Maybe I can make it for you some day.”
Colin swallowed hard and was about to answer when Jane buzzed into the kitchen with a beer for Hernán. He left the two of them to talk, and rejoined the party in the living room. Now his fears for Hernán were gone, he found he could engage more naturally.
Rudy had come in while they were in the kitchen, and he was already ensconced in a corner chair. Martini in one hand, he regaled a few admiring men with tales of the sexiest tourists he’d seen over the weekend. When he noticed Colin watching he mouthed “thank you” before taking a sip of his cocktail.
Colin felt warm inside. He was glad he’d been able to do something helpful, and his father’s connections had been so useful. An instinct warned him Nimble wouldn’t take such an attack lightly, though. Whatever Uncle Samuel had said, it surely indicated he was aware Nimble’s actions could bring legal and PR troubles upon the family of funds. Nimble would suspect Hernán had an ally, someone able to put a word in Samuel’s ear. Colin had to assume Nimble was spiteful and vindictive, and would watch for an opportunity to take revenge.
After another half-hour, he was sitting in a chair on the back porch, talking to a man and woman, when Hernán joined the small group. The couple, owners of a small sandwich shop in town, greeted Hernán warmly. He smiled at them but leaned close to Colin’s ear. “Would you like to get out of here?”
The words tickled the small hairs on Colin’s neck and he shivered involuntarily. He nodded, and then excused himself to the shop owners. As he followed Hernán to the front door, he caught Sara’s eye. She smiled at him and indicated Hernán’s back. He flushed, shook his head slightly and waved goodbye.
The evening had grown chilly. Colin was grateful for the warm hoodie he’d purchased at Hook as he wandered through town.
“May I buy you a drink to celebrate?” Hernán asked. “We’re not far from The Red Inn and they have a nice bar.”
“That’s where my Friday night binge started. Do you think I’d be welcomed back to the scene of my crime?” Colin asked.
Hernán chuffed a laugh. “I doubt anyone who even noticed you there on Friday hasn’t been drunk himself.”
“Fair enough. But I’m buying this time since you got lunch.”
Hernán’s eyes clouded with concern for a moment, but he gave a quick nod. They walked quietly through the dark and mostly empty streets to the historic red building, its garden glistening in fairy lights again. Hernán led them through the picket fence and inside, where he nodded to the host and kept going into the bar area. There were empty stools, but Hernán selected a small table away from the few patrons.
A big, burly man with a fierce black beard came up to them. “Hey, Hernán. What’ll it be?”
Hernán gestured for Colin to order first. “A, uh, a Grey Goose on the rocks please.”
“I’ll take a pint of whatever ale’s on tap,” Hernán said. “Zeke, this is Colin.” The waiter inclined his head in greeting before heading off to get their drinks.
“I love how you know everyone,” Colin said.
“It’s a small town really, when you get past the tourists. It doesn’t take long to meet everyone working here, or people like Jane and Sara who go out of their way to make people feel welcome.”
“It must be nice. I’ve never lived in a small town like this. Well, I spent my summers in Nantucket, but I don’t think that really qualifies.” Not with my parents’ big house, the servants, the yacht club…
When Zeke returned with Hernán’s beer and Colin’s vodka, Hernán took the opportunity to ask a few questions. Colin talked a little about his brother and sister, his boarding school days, even his nanny. Normally he kept those things private because he didn’t want his friends to think differently of him, once they knew his upbringing.
A part of him squirmed as he worried what Hernán would think. Am I showing off? Will he see me as some over-entitled rich boy? Hernán’s opinion of him mattered deeply to Colin, for no good reason.
Not true. I want him to trust me so I can really help him.
As Hernán drained the last of his beer, Colin decided the time was right to bring it up again. He turned his nearly-full glass in his hands and focused on the table as he said, “I’m glad Nimble will leave you alone now, but he’s just one asshole. There will be others, and your…” he looked around the bar but no one was near, “immigration status will always be an issue.”
He glanced up to see Hernán staring into the bottom of his glass, cheeks red. Quickly, Colin said, “I don’t mean to embarrass you. I just… I want to help. I really do know lawyers in DC who handle immigration cases all the time.”
He caught Hernán’s eyes and said firmly, “I don’t want anything in return. But please. Meet me halfway here.”
Hernán rolled the edge of his empty glass on the tabletop. Finally he inhaled deeply through his nose, set the glass aside and leaned forward. Hands folded on the bar table, he met Colin’s gaze. “I believe you. And I…trust you. But I need to tell you something first, so you know what you’re getting in to.”
Colin waited, racking his brain to guess what Hernán was worried about. He kept silent and eventually Hernán continued. “It’s not just about Gerald. I mean, why I tried to keep a low profile here, and worked in the kitchen instead of taking a better job as a waiter.”
“What do you mean?”
“I guess Rudy didn’t tell you. I’m, well, the reason I left San Marcos, is…I was targeted by Cuernos del Diablo.”
“The gang?” Colin’s jaw dropped.
Cuernos del Diablo was an infamously vicious group of thugs. Its members were linked to drugs, child prostitution, sex trafficking, and brutal murders. People who threatened to inform against them had been beheaded. Prosecutors who tried to bring cases against its members were killed horribly, along with their families. The gang was terrifying. It had formed originally in the States, and then took hold as well in El Salvador and other Latin American countries when a large number of its members were deported years earlier. The current administration nevertheless used the specter of such gangs who were found in large cities like L.A. and New York to justify its draconian efforts to change the immigration laws.
“Were you mixed up with them?” Colin asked, shocked.
Hernán shook his head desperately. “No. Never. About eleven months ago, though, some of them started following me around every day. Three men, mainly. I knew what they were because of the face tattoos. There’s a gang symbol a lot of them use, of the horns of the devil.”
Colin nodded; he’d seen pictures.
“I don’t know why they chose me at first,” Hernán continued. “If it was an initiation thing or what. But every day, they’d call out things they wanted me to do, or were going to do to me.” He closed his eyes and all but whispered, “Sex things. They waited near my college or my house.
“One day…,” he swallowed hard. “One day they stabbed me. I ran to jump on a bus and got away, but I nearly died.”
“The police?” Colin asked.
“One officer tried,” Hernán said sadly. “The police were usually just as scared to mess with Cuernos as I was. This guy, though, Martín Alba…he told me we had to stop them. I knew two of the men who attacked me, from school.” Hernán brushed the heel of his hand over a cheek. “I gave him the names, and they were picked up and put in jail. Two weeks later, Alba was killed. Word came I’d be next.”
He shivered and closed his eyes. “My uncle Juan told me I needed to get out of El Salvador or I’d be murdered. He helped set everything up, and I ran.” He looked intently at Colin, and his voice shaded with fear. “But you have Cuernos in the States too. More so than in my country.”
He sighed. “Juan warned me to stay hidden always, keep out of sight. Who knows how far they’d go? It isn’t like I can ask anyone, hey, are you looking for me? But if they are, if you get mixed up in this, if Cuernos finds out where I am…”
Colin didn’t waver. “I understand. Thank you for explaining but I’m willing to take the risk. I’ve been in a few situations that would surprise you, and I can get us protection if we ever need it.”
Hernán gave him a small smile. “Shark, not dolphin?” He looked down at the tabletop again but Colin waited him out. Finally, Hernán asked, “If…if I came to DC, how would this work?”
Colin exhaled a sigh of relief. “Okay. We’d leave tomorrow, without telling anyone at your job, just to make sure Nimble doesn’t have another change of heart. He won’t know where you’ve gone. Once he accepts that, hopefully he’ll drop this all for good and leave Rudy alone. You’ll stay in my guest room as long as you need, and we’ll try to get some time with David James or another lawyer to begin talking about immigration options for you.”
“How would I get to DC? I mean, it’s got to be expensive and I don’t have much money saved yet.”
Colin grinned widely. “Airfare is the least of our troubles, I promise. How do you feel about small planes?”