"Mano, I still can't believe Varela is making you a high rank." Felipe takes a swig from his beer. "Shit! That means I'll never be your commanding officer."

"It's not a done deal yet. But yeah, you lost any chance to ever boss me around."

He laughs. "No, you're gonna do the bossing just like you've been doing for the past freaking year."

"Stop whining. And if you don't mess things up all the time, you'll eventually get a matching rank."

"I doubt it. You were always better than me at this soldier stuff." No bitterness colors Felipe's words; it's just a matter of fact. Even though we entered the military on the same day, I somehow managed to stay ahead of him in promotions and commendations. He finishes his beer, signaling the waiter for another round. "Besides, Miguel approved my request to work in the office, so I'll be cutting down on patrol duty."

"Good for you." I smile as I shake a new cigarette from the pack on the counter and light it with Felipe's cigarette butt. Taking a deep drag, I blow the smoke toward the fan in the ceiling. No way I could ever work in the office. It would suffocate me. All that damn sitting—I'd get a cramp in my ass. Without fresh air and the mountains close by, I'm useless.

My gaze travels around the bar. It's already quite busy with town folks and soldiers having a drink after a hard day's work. With the nation's imposed curfew only hours away, most of us take this as a last chance to relax before getting stuck at home or at the military compound. If I play my cards right, this won't apply to me anymore. Once I'm a high-ranking officer, I'll have the privilege of roaming the streets whenever I like.

"Hey, what are you gonna do after this?" Felipe sips from his beer, his gaze fixed on a group of soldiers playing cards for money. His fingers twitch, but he resists. After losing all of last month's wages in a single card game, he has gotten more careful about his gambling habits.

"I was gonna swing by the orphanage and visit Rosanna. What 'bout you?"

Tearing his attention away from the cards, he rolls his eyes. "My uncle is having this thing tonight. Some pre-engagement dinner. If you ask me, all this party planning before the actual party is getting a bit much."

"Seriously? Santino is getting engaged?"

"Yep, to Naiara Salazar."

"No way. Isn't she our age?"

"Not quite. But she is legal."

I snort. Since when does that matter when it comes to marriages of the leading families? Taking another drag, I let the smoke escape with my next words. "How old is Santino?"

"Fifty-three."

So a thirty-five year difference. Naiara must want the title of First Lady pretty badly. "How is Miguel taking it that he'll soon have a stepmom who could be his little sister?"

"Let's just say he isn't thrilled, but he and Santino are on minimal speaking terms these days anyway. I think Miguel is only going tonight to keep up appearances."

Politics. Something I can do without. The phoniness of it all is flat-out annoying. "I need to get going, or I'll be caught up in the curfew." After finishing my beer with a few big gulps, I toss a couple of bills onto the counter. "Later, Felipe."

He nods, his focus back on the card game. I should drag him out of here to make sure he doesn't give into temptation, but then again, he's a grown man. At nineteen, he should know his limits. Besides, best friend or not, I wouldn't want him to butt into my life unless I ask for his opinion.

Through a wall of thick cigarette smoke and loitering patrons, I fight my way to the exit. Outside, I take a deep breath to flush the bar stench out of my system. The chill of the evening air settles on my skin. How calm it is out here. Only a few women and their husbands are finishing up some last-minute shopping at the market in the town square. The vendors have started to take down their stalls, eager to get out of the city before dark. With the recent rebel kidnappings, I can't blame them. The streets aren't safe at night, especially alone and unarmed.

Getting into the Jeep, I leave the top down to get rid of the smoke stench on my clothes. Rosanna will notice otherwise and keep her distance since she always teases that she doesn't like kissing an ashtray. I back out of the parking space and head toward the orphanage.

As I drive under the pink-orange sky of the setting sun, the unease resettles in my bones. Even though I would never admit it to Felipe or any of my other friends, the death of the husband and wife today really upset me. Rosanna is the only one who'll understand. She doesn't view that type of sentiment as sissy weakness.

I fly along the road with breakneck speed but shift down before a sharp bend to keep control of the car. When I floor the pedal after the curve, the cool air stings my face. The tires spin, kicking loose gravel that rumbles down into the ravine cutting the road off to the left. Felipe always says I'm crazy when I drive this fast, but the thrill is worth it. What is life without a few risks?

At a fork in the road, I bomb down the forest path that leads to the orphanage but take my foot off the gas after a few yards. The Jeep rolls out in neutral with the engine humming low. I don't want anyone to hear I'm coming. Pearson would have my ass if he knew I'm visiting a girl this late in the evening. Even after two years of dating, Rosanna and I have managed to keep our relationship a secret. Pearson can be a bastard when it comes to rules.

Just before I get to the end of the forest road, I pull into a small clearing and park the Jeep in a space behind a wall of tall bushes. Trudging along the beaten path that snakes through the woods surrounding the orphanage, I round the six buildings to get to the back. Shouts drift from the soccer field next to the mess hall; Pearson is having his usual practice after dinner. Why the man freaking loves that game so much is beyond me. I must've kicked a ball around at least a million times but never really got into it.

As I get to the tree line, I take cover behind a hedge. Peeking to the left, I scan the area. The shed and vegetable garden lie deserted. Pearson's dog is rolled up in front of the steps to the kitchen door. As usual, the lazy mutt is sleeping instead of standing guard. Lucky for him, the kids love him to pieces, or Pearson would have gotten rid of him a long time ago.

For a second, my gaze gets stuck on one of the windows of the boy's dorms. I slept in that room for eleven years when I was still living here with Felipe. Eleven years—more than half my life. Although I still recall certain memories, most feel as if they belong to someone else. Only when I play my violin do I miss the damn place. Playing an instrument is one of the opportunities I would've never had without Pearson. My lessons always tore a big hole into the budget, but he sucked it up. Said he did it for my mom, who helped him build the orphanage.

Swallowing down the lump that always settles in my throat when I think about her, I dart out from behind the hedge and close the distance to the girl's dormitory with a few strides. I duck down next to the window at the end and tap the glass with the tip of the car key to let Rosanna know I'm here. Three times, then twice. Our signal.

The window opens and she pokes her head out. Her lips curl to a smile. "Hi. I was scared you weren't coming."

"Sorry, but Felipe and I grabbed a beer after we got back from patrol."

She swings her legs out of the window first and I wrap my arms around her waist to lower her down. Her body slides over my crotch, arousing me. God, I missed her so much. Overnight patrols are always a struggle, something that will change when I start training as a high-ranking officer. I can't wait to tell her.

She pecks my lips and her gaze cuts into me. "How are you doing, Tomás?"

"Fine." I can't hold her intense stare.

"You don't look fine."

I grab her hand. "Let's get out of here and I'll tell you."

Ducking down, we run toward the woods with our fingers entangled. As we make our way down the forest path, I drape one arm around her shoulders. We end up in a small clearing where a thick umbrella of trees gives shelter to a makeshift bench and some leveled stumps that can be used as stools. Trampled cigarette butts are scattered between the leaves and twigs; it's the orphan's secret smoking grounds.

I sit down on the bench and Rosanna lies next to me with bent knees, her head resting in my lap. Brushing a few strands of hair out of her eyes, I soak in her gorgeous features. I got lucky. Her internal beauty rivals her pretty face—I've never met anyone more generous or with a bigger heart.

"So what happened today that upset you?" she asks.

I tilt my head back and close my eyes to sort through my unsettling thoughts. "Felipe, Juana, and I were running patrol over by Lake Ercina, and when we came up on this small settlement, we decided to take a break. Juana was really thirsty and we were going to ask one of the villagers if he could refill our water bottles. We were almost by the door of this one house when we were ambushed. Once we took cover, we called for backup and all was good, but then the forest worker who was living there stepped out into the open, even though I ordered him not to. He got shot."

The lump is back and I clear my throat a few times to get the thickness out of my voice.

Rosanna loops her fingers with mine. It helps. "Why would he do something that silly?"

"His wife was sick and he was trying to get to his car to take her to the doctor. His little daughter was with him when he was killed. I was able to get her to safety, but her mom got shot as well. She died." This time, the clearing of my throat doesn't offer any relief, the choked words reduced to a mumble to keep the tremble out of my voice. "I felt so helpless. It was awful."

"You saved the little girl, right? That's at least worth something."

"Still . . ."

"You can't save everyone, Tomás."

"I know. The mom was also pregnant. I checked, but the baby bump was hardly there and I couldn't do anything." I clear my throat again but instead of easing, the lump is growing with every breath.

"I'm sorry, Tomás. I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." I stroke her hair. "Listening is already enough. It helps when I can talk about it."

"You know you can talk to me about anything."

"I know. That's why I love you so much." I gaze down on her, indulging in her sweet smile. "Anyway, I also have some really good news. General Varela picked me to train as a higher-ranking officer."

She lifts her head. "Tomás, that's fantastic. That means you'll get better housing in town once we get married."

"Yep. Just wait—one day, we might even end up on Forbidden Hills."

She giggles. "Can you imagine? Two orphans around all those rich folks. It'll be a hoot."

I grimace. "I'm not sure if I can stomach pretending to like people I actually despise."

"Yeah, but that's part of the game. You never get to the top if you don't have powerful friends."

"True. And if we had a house on Forbidden Hills, we could live close to Felipe."

"If Felipe ever settles down. He's a dog."

"One day, he'll find the right girl."

"We'll see." She cradles her head back into my lap and shifts to get more comfortable. "Speaking of settling down, there's something I have to tell you."

"Oh yeah." I chuckle. "Please don't ask me to buy you a house. I don't even have enough money saved up for an engagement ring."

This time, she can't hold my gaze. Shifting again, the sudden anxiousness is practically oozing out of her.

"Rosanna, what is it?"

She lets out a long breath through puffed cheeks. "I might be pregnant."

My body stiffens. "Come again."

"I mean, I'm not sure, but I've missed my period by a few weeks, so chances are, I am."

"Fuck." I rub my hands over my short hair, unable to process this new information with my brain still running on overload.

"Aren't you happy at all?"

"No, I mean yes." I exhale in desperation. "Honestly, I don't know."

"You don't know?"

Turmoil is raging, pulling me into all types of directions. I want to be happy, but after seeing two people die today, one of them being pregnant herself, my mind isn't into parenthood. It scares me. "Look, why don't you take a pregnancy test first, so we can be sure?"

"Okay." Tears glisten in her eyes. Blinking them away, she rolls onto her side to face the backrest of the bench.

"I'm sorry, Rosanna." I stroke her back. "After the day I had, I don't know what I should feel."

"I understand." Her shoulders shake and a muffled sob proves the complete opposite.

"I mean, couldn't you have waited a few more days to make sure before springing this on me?"

She rolls on her back, anger flashing at me through her tears. "How? Did you want me to go to Pearson and ask him to get me a pregnancy test?"

I groan. Once he finds out, he'll kill me for sure. "No, of course not."

"Besides, I thought you wanted to know. With your job, I'm never sure when I'll get another chance. Tomorrow, you could disappear on patrol again and be gone for a few days." She leaves out that she can never be sure I'll return. The potential of me dying is not something we ever talk about.

"I'm sorry, Rosanna. I guess the news took me by surprise."

"It's fine. Just get me a pregnancy test, so we can be sure." The hurt in her eyes tears at my heartstrings. "We should go back, or you won't make it to the compound before the curfew."

"Yeah."

Neither of us moves as we stare at different spots in the woods. Silent tears roll down her cheeks, but I feel as if there's a wall between us. I guess that makes me a total jerk. I tip my head back and glare into the sky.

Fuck.

I'm so not ready to be a father.

~~~~~

© Sal Mason 2018

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