Ace

SAM

               The next morning, we entered a protective custody room, and there Adrian was, bandages wrapped all around his head. LeBron was there, too. He was going to be our translator.

               "Hello, Adrian! It's so nice to meet you for the first time," I greeted with a friendly smile. Adrian looked at LeBron cluelessly.

               "Privet, Adrian, tak priyatno poznakomit'sya svami vpervyye," LeBron translated, and Adrian looked at us blankly through his bandages.

               "Privet," he whispered.

               "How do you like it here?" Rodriguez asked, "Is LeBron teaching you any basic English words?"

               "Tebe zdes' nravistya? Lebron uchit vas bazovym angliyskim slovam?" LeBron repeated in Russian and nodded as if it were a cue. Adrian straightened and began to say something in English.

               "Don't go home. He knows where you live." Adrian stared at Rodriguez. Rodriguez frowned at LeBron, who gave Rodriguez a concerned expression that I'd never seen before. Then, he slightly shook his head as if silently telling Rodriguez, "That's not what I told him to say." But, instead of freaking out, Rodriguez played it off like it was nothing.

               "Seriously?" he said, "I shouldn't have asked." I pushed Rodriguez out of the way.

               "I'm willing to teach you English, too, Adrian. I'll be here for whatever you need. Tell me any time, and I'll be there faster than light!" I said kindly and LeBron translated for him, hesitating as if he still hadn't processed Adrian's last statement. As we were leaving, Adrian said something else before we left.

               "Mama," he whispered to me. I didn't need LeBron to translate to know what that meant.