The Crocodile God

Part 5.

The doorbell rings at noon, but it's Saturday and Mirasol knows that Lloyd is visiting. Even if she hadn't, the dream is only waiting at the edge of her vision. Haik is wearing a t-shirt today, so Lloyd doesn't spot his tattoos as quickly as Mirasol and Rahil did.

"Hey, man! Who is this?"

"Haik," he says. "Your cousin found me gravely injured a couple weeks ago, and so she nursed me back to health."

"I took him to the hospital first," Mirasol assures, and hands Lloyd a glass of water.

He chuckles. "Are you British?"

"Australian." Haik shakes Lloyd's hand with his non-scaled arm, but Lloyd still catches his ink on the other arm and needs a minute to let go.

"Bro. What is all that?"

"I'm not Samoan," he laughs. "I'm Filipino."

"Motherfucker, you're indio as hell!" Lloyd high-fives him. "How did you get here?"

"I was boating in the Golden Gate Park, and then I fell off and my head hurt--the sail's boom must have hit me," Haik says, to Lloyd's wince of sympathy. "The hit itself wasn't bad, but my boat took off pretty fast. Then there's some missing scenes, and then I woke up on the beach."

It's a good thing he's been living with her for the past two weeks, because all Mirasol has to do is wince and shake her head.

"Fuck, man, where were you going?" Lloyd wonders.

"I wasn't going anywhere," Haik sighs. "Nice day, went to the beach, that's it."

"Is anyone looking for you?"

"Not... in... America," Haik admits.

"Right, Australian." But Lloyd sees the look on Mirasol's face. "Oh shit, is your family in the Philippines? Where are they from?"

"From Manila, where else?" Haik attempts, but Lloyd already suspects something and taps Mirasol's shoulder to bring her into the bedroom.

"What did he tell you before?" He whispers. "Y'all be looking at him like he had two heads."

"Fine." Haik yanks the door open. "Fine. I'm undocumented. That's it."

"Thank god, bro! I thought you were a serial-killer." And Lloyd heads right back out.

They keep the food to snacks since lunchtime already passed. Haik tells the story about his paraw--made from ipil wood with bamboo outriggers, heavy and dark but streaked with golden shimmers.

"My parents made it when I was a kid, so all they had to do was find someone to chop the tree and get it processed at a sawmill," Haik laughs. "Trying to make another boat out of ipil would cost too much today."

"Yeah, ipil is super expensive now. Rich people use it for fancy shit." But Lloyd catches Mirasol leaning into Haik's shoulder.

She chuckles and moves a couple inches away, but it's too late and Lloyd brings her into the bedroom again.

"Mirasol, don't," he pleads. "Please don't get involved with him. If ICE finds out, they just gonna dump him back in the islands--"

"Yeah, it's kind of late for that." Her eyes start to burn. "But thanks."

"Late for what?"

"Both." She coughs. "After I took him to the hospital, ICE came the next week. The hospital couldn't find any records."

"Fuck." He hugs her, for a long time. "Don't let the white girl talk to him too much, ay? What's her name, Katie?"

"Claire."