Page 103 of Alonzo

“Stupid misunderstanding? No, Tara. That’s not what this is.”

“Johnny told me. He told me what you guys are doing. And that’s… well, pretty wonderful. I’m so proud of you.”

“Stop.” I hold up my hand. Because I can’t listen to one more word. “Just stop, OK? You thought I was selling children to pedophiles.”

“I know, but it was a mistake.”

“A mistake?” I guffaw. “That’s not a mistake. That’s a… that’s a… I don’t even have a word for it.”

“Listen, I’m sorry. I was wound up. And I saw you with Diablo this morning—”

“When?”

“I just came from the docks. I was…” She pauses. “I was hiding in your office when you guys walked in. I saw you and… I assumed things… and…” She lets out a long breath.

“You just assumed I was peddling kids to pedophiles?”

“Look, Alonzo—”

“No, you look. I didn’t tell you what I do because it’s illegal. And I don’t want you involved.”

“So you fed me some story about mermaids and sailors?”

“I didn’t feed you anything. That’s my family history. Take it or leave it. That’s what I was saying that night. But if you take it, then you—”

“I what?” Now she’s seething. And that kinda pisses me off. She has no right to seethe. “I shut my mouth like a good little wife? While you go out and save orphans in Haiti? Is that what you were trying to tell me that night?”

“Yeah. That’s exactly it. I wasn’t gonna tell you the truth, but—”

“You weren’t gonna tell me because I’m just some dumb girl, right? You have this all figured out, don’t you? The whole myth thing? You get to go do all these beautifully dangerous things. Isn’t that what you said?”

I walk over to her and look down, daring her to look me in the eyes. She does. So I keep it going. “Yeah. That’s right. That’s what I said. And apparently what you heard is that I’m a sex trafficker.”

“It’s not my fault I jumped to conclusions. You were with Diablo. I told you I was running from him. What was I supposed to think?”

“Well, if you weren’t fucking spying on me this morning, then you’d have known the truth about what we do. Because I brought him over to Dumas Street so we could sort this out. We were going to explain the whole mix-up. But then I get here, find you gone, and then I hear you getting all loud and screamy next door.” I throw up my hands. “And I open the door just in time to hear what you really think about me.”

“That’s not fair and you know it!”

“You’re not fair. I’ve risked my fucking ass twice a year for the past eighteen fucking years to smuggle orphans from Haiti into the US and give them a second chance. My family has been doing this for decades. In lots of different Caribbean countries, too. We”—I point to my chest—“are the good guys, Tara Tanner!”

“I know.” She reaches for me, but I swat her hand away. “Just… I’m sorry. I misunderstood and—”

“That was not a misunderstanding.”

She points her finger at my face. “You’ve been lying to me for two years! I came here to confront you, but you weren’t interested in telling me the truth. All you wanted was to feed me stories and keep me quiet.”

“And fuck you.”

She points again. “Yeah. And fuck me. Like some good little woman who isn’t capable of knowing the truth about beautifully dangerous things. Or helping out, for that fucking matter! Did you ever, for one fucking second, wonder if maybe I—the actual goddamned orphan in this relationship—would like to partner up with you in your beautifully dangerous scheme?”

“You can’t.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Because that’s not how it works!”

“Because I’m a woman?”