The Crocodile God

Part 6.

She wants to just let her phone ring because she needs more time, they need more time, but Haik swipes the green button for her, pressing his face into her shoulder.

"Hey--Mirasol. Are you with Haik?"

"What's wrong?" But they all know why he's called, and Mirasol switches the lamp on.

"Fucking ICE called me. I told them I didn't know who he was, but they're still coming at midnight. Don't leave right now, leave when it's dark so people don't see you--"

"Fuck." She and Haik start packing. "Fuck!"

Haik's already got his own duffel bag, so they only need to team up and bag some of her clothes while she presses the phone into her shoulder.

"Don't take him to my place, they'll head there in two goddamn seconds. Go to Rahil's, it'll take them a little longer since you're not related."

Haik takes the phone. "I'm sorry," he creaks out, heavy and old like a statue. Mirasol wants to turn the clock back to yesterday, where she saw a glimpse of the whale-rider again. "I'm sorry. Dragging her into this."

"Bruh, she grown. She dragged her own self into this." Lloyd laughs, though bitterly. "Give her the phone."

"Lloyd?" She laces up her boots and slings the duffel bag across her shoulders.

"Don't panic, okay? If you get deported, head east of Manila to the Laguna de Ba-i--"

"And stay with Grandma and Grandpa. I know." But it still hurts.

"They're gonna sue the whole damn government for deporting an American, ay?"

She laughs into Haik's chest, dizzy and pained.

Lloyd hangs up, and Mirasol switches the lamp back off. She doesn't turn any others on. This is her home--she doesn't need light.

---

When the last of the bloody red sun has left the sky, Haik grips her hand behind her, a ship towed along in the dark.

They get to the doorway where Mirasol thinks Claire must be coming, but it's not until they reach the driveway that they hear Imelda's raging.

"Y'all barely even saw him, you stupid--"

"Don't." Haik's fingers gnaw into Mirasol's arm. She works loose anyway because the tears are looming, and if she isn't mad it's just going to hurt--

"YOU CALLED THE FUCKING ICE DEPARTMENT?! IT WAS YOU?!"

"Well, they called me and--and it's pretty obvious he's not Lloyd--"

"You could have at least gotten his name before you snitched on him!" Her tears of rage burn. "What if this was a different brown guy with tattoos?!"

"I'm not racist!" She pleads. "Mirasol, you know me! I was just--"

"WHAT?! WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!"

The storm darkens the sky in Claire's silence. Haik is stock-still behind her and quietly broken.

"Just following orders," he finishes for her, bitter. "Is that it?"

Claire finally processes the duffel bags slung on them like armor. "What are you doing?"

"Someone got a call from ICE and warned us they were coming! Y'all think we gonna sit here and wait for them?!" Mirasol grabs her keys and heads for the car, but instead grabs Haik and starts heading down the sidewalk--they'll know her license plate.