Undone

Luis. Brother. Another Warden, and one far stronger than Ma

I remembered, too, that when Ma

Luis had large brown eyes, and they surveyed me with interest and intensity. He offered a vague salute with his half-empty bottle of beer. “Hey, Cassiel,” he said. “You drink beer?”

“Yes,” I said. There was a challenge in his question, and I was in no mood to be defeated. Luis nodded, without any change in expression, and reached down inside the door. He held a bottle out to me. I went up the porch steps and took it, twisted the cap as I’d seen Ma

The taste was foul. I choked, coughed, and managed not to spew the stuff back on Luis’s smirking face. I swallowed and willed myself not to give him more amusement.

The second sip was easier. “Thank you,” I said.

“You’re an asshole,” Ma

He shoved Luis on the shoulder. Ma

We followed.

Angela was setting the table—four places. When she saw me, she quickly turned away and added another plate, as well as a welcoming silent smile. I thought—though my command of human expressions was not expert—that she looked troubled, despite the smile.

“Seriously, man, have you lost your mind?” Ma

Luis’s face set in stubborn lines. “I don’t let fear run my life,” he said. “You shouldn’t either, Ma

“I got a wife and kid! I got things to lose, bro. You think about that before you go stirring things up again.” Ma

I continued to listen to the brothers.

“This is still Noteño territory, and they’re not going to miss you rolling up, big as life, in that damn flashy truck,” Ma

“Love you too, Ma

“You know how it is: You’re never out. I hear they remember.” Ma

“For taking her on?” Her meant, of course, me. I decided that mentioning me included me once more in the conversation, and turned toward the two men. Ma

“You mean, is he sure about me?” I deliberately took another shallow sip of the beer. The malty, bitter aftertaste was less prominent this time. “I doubt he is, but I have proved useful to him.”

Luis did look at me this time, and I did not care for the expression on his face. It seemed to pass judgment, and I would not be judged by humans. Not even by a Warden as powerful as I suspected Luis to be. “You get yourself in trouble today?” he asked—not me, but Ma

“Not any more than usual.”

I wondered why Ma

He didn’t wait for Ma

Ma

“Your brother,” I said.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Lucky me.”

Chapter 5

I LEARNED A great deal at the meal that night, mainly from the silences and when they fell. Ma

The meal was tamales, Angela explained to me, and went into great detail of how to season the pork that was rolled into the cornmeal. I was grateful that she quickly pointed out that the corn husk skins should be removed before eating, as that had posed a worry for me. The food was a heady mixture of tastes and textures, and Ibby tipped hot sauce freely onto my plate, begging me to try it with the tamales and rice. I haughtily refused. That earned me laughter from the others at the table, but kind laughter. Bright, not dark.

“So,” Ma

“Maybe.” He shoveled another bite of food into his mouth. He had not been shy about the hot sauce, and seemed unaffected by it. “Waiting on a transfer out of Florida. I’m kind of on detached service right now.”

Ma

Isabel glowered at her, but ate the forkful of rice she had been waving around. Luis took a sip of his beer.

“They tell me they’re short of Wardens in Colorado,” he said. “So probably there, but it’ll be closer than the coast.” He nudged Isabel, seated next to him. “You’d like that, right?”

“Right!” She chewed her food noisily and gri

“Luis—” Ma

“I know. I just don’t care,” Luis said. He focused his attention back on his plate. “So what have you guys been up to while I was gone? Ibby?”

Isabel launched into a bubbling, breathless story about everything from the history of her dolls to the horny toad she had found in the backyard. Angela caught my eye and smiled, and I felt . . . warmed. Part of the circle of safety, however much an illusion it might be.

I saved his life, I thought, watching Ma

There was something curiously strong about that feeling. I didn’t know what to name it, or whether or not it would help or harm me—but I couldn’t ignore it. As a Dji