Winter slowly gave way to spring, but it was still too chilly for Mireya's comfort. It had been nearly two and a half months since she met Martin Harrison, the young teen under John Reilly’s care, and she had taken a quick liking to him. Martin, despite his sad tale, was a bright if mischievous kid – one taken to action, though quite smart. She took it upon herself to look for Marty – a shortening of his name that he liked – at school whenever she could to spend the evenings at John’s apartment, regaling him with tales of her exploits. Many a time, Marty tried to ask her own story, but she kept it back; it was her mission to help John tutor him and keep him in check, not to keep him too close.
It was in one of those days when Mireya and Marty were eating at her favorite bodeguita - a mini-market with a cafeteria, generally owned by Latin-American people but just as easily owned by other kinds of immigrants – when she saw John approaching. He wasn't alone, but walked with a tall young man, gangly, with unkempt, straw-like hair in dire need of a cut, and a nose riddled with zits. But it was his eyes that attracted her attention. Though he smiled - he seemed to be very happy to look at Marty - there was a crushing sadness in his eyes, almost identical to those she saw on Martin when he reminisced of his parents. His eyes seemed lost and full of guilt.
John approached their table and smiled. "There you are!" he said as he chortled, and immediately asked, "How’s Marty doing?"
Mireya spoke with a hint of pride on her voice. "Oh, he’s doing fantastic; you know that!" She tried to hide the mild discomfort she felt at John’s acquaintance, who seemed to be leering at. "He’ll be working with other students tomorrow on the Chemistry project he’s to submit to the competition, just so you know he’ll be arriving late."
"Well, well! Still planning on joining the football team when you get to high school?" he asked Martin.
"Sure!" said Martin with a bright smile. "But I figured I could have some fun with the rocket project while at it."
"As long as you don’t shirk your duties." John glanced over at the boy beside him, and made a groaning cackle. "Oh, forgive me, as always, my dear, I can’t help but be distracted by your bright presence."
Mireya blushed. "Oh, you flatterer!"
"Anyways." John pushed the young man closer. "Let me make the introductions. Jeff, the lady here is Mireya Guillén; she’s teaching Marty on the finer aspects of being an associate to our... ‘firm’." He subtly stressed the last word. "Mireya, this is Jeffrey Harrison, Marty’s brother. He’ll be staying with us for a while."
Brothers? Mireya noticed the similarities less than the differences. Marty, though younger, was more robust, giving every sign of bulking up to a strapping young man, while Jeff was much slimmer. The hair was different as well. Both had thick, stiff rugs of the stuff, but Marty's, though shorter, bristled into short curls at its ends, while Jeff's lay flat on his head like sheafs of dead grass; and his hair, though shot through with dark streaks, was mostly blonde, while Marty's was the color of milk chocolate. The only resemblance was in the eyes, where they both had a furtive look.
Could it be like Frank and Joe? Mireya wondered. Could one or both of them be adopted?
Jeff timidly extended his hand, stammering. "Uh...hi. Nice to meet you, Ms. Gee-yen."
"Gui-llén, Mr. Harrison. And please. You can call me Mireya. I’m not that old! Say, may I ask what you’re doing here?"
As Jeff seemed too distracted to speak, Marty took the word. "I guess he must also be coming for school?"
Marty’s words prodded Jeff out of his bubble. "Oh, uh... Not really. Gonna complete my GED with John’s help."
"He’ll be doing some traveling abroad, dear." John sat down, loosening the jacket of his worn gray suit. "He spent some time recently with Ms. Valentine. I was just asking him how he did."
"Kali?" Mireya knew that Kali was one of the best teachers of the "firm" - the Stellae Errantes - but it was unusual for her to tutor an associate; this was a task best left for someone like her, not an actual Stellae. "What was he was doing there?"
"Learning a bit of the firm’s history. I believe Marty’s going to spend a summer with her for the same reasons, in-between school years."
"Ah. For how long?"
"Not long."
John started to continue, but Mireya gestured him to stop so she could listen to the two boys. They had fallen into talk of their own, and were too distracted to notice that they were being watched. Mireya was pleased to note that their expressions – one point of similarity between them – had lost most of the sadness.
“So”, Jeff asked as he rested his head on his cupped hand. “How you’re doing in school?”
“I’m doing great!” Marty’s response betrayed his childish excitement. “John’s helping me a lot on classes. He already took me to that charter high school I told you during vacations; I’ll be taking the entrance test in a month and I’m sure I'm gonna ace it!”
“Good for you!” Jeff made a curt smile, though Mireya could notice a bit of disappointment in his eyes, hidden within his sarcastic remark. “Not going to do public school, eh?"
“Actually, it’s more of a model school, STEM-focused, but it has one of the best football teams in the county! Oh, and I got into the county science fair project with Shirley, Manuel and Charlie Yu – you know, right? The guys I told you were like Shawn and Sadie and other-Jeff, back at Schuyler?"
"Oh", Jeff responded with a bored expression. "Your new best friends, right?"
"Pretty much. So, get this – it's a rocket science project, and I got to work with Charlie on the propellant--"
"Oh...", Jeff responded with a groan. "You’re not using industrial fuel or anything, right?"
"Hell no!" Marty chuckled. "Anyways, Charlie and I were working on using a CO2 tank and figure out the weight and stuff, but I think we’re gonna use a mixture of CO2 and helium to reduce the weight."
"Dude, you sure that’s gonna work?"
"Yeah, if we can find someone to work the tank! It’s gonna be a slim one, and--"
Mireya noticed as how Marty was so proud of his achievements, but Jeff cast a wary gaze at him. She also noticed that he was merely listening to humor him, and came to Jeff’s rescue. "Say... You know what you’re going to work with on the future? I mean – in between jobs?"
Jeff scratched his nose, startled by the distraction. "I guess I’m doing coding or something? I’m pretty good at codes."
"Coding?" Martin said. "Weren’t you gonna ask Nash if he could--?"
"Shut up, Ro— Marty!" Jeff blushed as he stuttered.
"Oh, so you call him by his middle name?" Mireya responded with a laugh.
"Huh?" Jeff shook his head. "Whaddya mean?"
"You were about to call him ‘Robert’, right? It’s just that I’m not used to hear people calling each other by their second names. I mean – not even my sister calls me ‘Isabel’!"
"Really?" Jeff’s face brightened up. "So, your name’s Mireya Isabel? Wow...sounds like one of the characters from those Latin soap operas..."
This was enough for Mireya to burst into boisterous laughter. "Oh, stop it! Those names are ridiculous! Besides; they only apply to the rich people anyways..."
"Really?" Jeff noticed Mireya’s athletic body, holstered gun and heavy coat. "Didn’t peg you for someone who’d watch them."
"I’d say the same about you, Jeff. Mami always made me watch them; one of the few things she really enjoyed..." Mireya’s eyes became wistful, but she fought the feeling.
"Oh..." Jeff seemed to make this his catchphrase, perhaps stunned by the box of surprises that was Mireya. "So, you’re from Latin America?"
Mireya cast a dour glance at Jeff. "I was born here, but my parents are from the Caribbean. Besides, Latin America isn’t a country."
"Yeah, I..." Jeff seemed ashamed by Mireya’s fierce reaction. "I kinda get that."
"Say, where did you learn about telenovelas?" Mireya was consumed by curiosity, for no white person she knew was aware of them.
"Heard that, um, someone from the...well, ‘firm’, acts in them."
"You must mean Maria Cardozo, right?" Mireya cupped her hand and laid her head to rest atop it. "Yeah. She was one of mami’s favorite actresses. Imagine her surprise when she met her in person! Didn't have the best first impression, though." As she spoke, her voice began to dim into melancholy. "It took a lot for mami to get over that impression. The two never really got along very well. She stopped watching Brazilian novelas after that."
John and Marty noticed the change in attitude; the former quickly reacted. "Are you waiting for your food? We could do take-out and just eat at home."
"Oh, yeah..." Mireya quickly snatched into John’s proposal. "Marty and I were just finishing our sandwiches, but we could just--"
Martin swallowed the last of his sandwich – roast beef, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise between a sliced soft and sweet-tasting bread, then toasted – and downed it with a large sip of Coke. "I’s uh-rught", he said, still with his mouth full, as he finished swallowing it. "Hey, Jeff! You gotta taste this! The sandwiches are great, and they make it with this soft and sweet bread! You gotta ask for...what’s the word, ‘Boricua bread’? You gotta ask for it, or they’re gonna serve it on water bread, which is tougher and--"
"Let him choose what he wants!" Mireya wrapped the remainder of her sandwich – almost the same as Martin’s, but with pastrami instead – and stepped up. "I’ll wait for you two outside. Come on, Marty, let’s go."
As she moved outside, Mireya felt someone watched her intently. She discreetly glanced behind, only to see Jeff leering with a silly look on his face, before saying something to John. Mireya only hoped that Jeff wasn’t as lecherous as Marty sometimes was.
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