The Sleeper Cells: A Terrorism Story

Chapter 29: You're Not Welcome Here

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Hernandez!" my mom announces when they open the mustard-colored door.

"Welcome to our home!" Mrs. Hernandez says with a grin showing her teeth. She reaches out and grabs my mom, pulling her in for a hug, holding her close for a few extra seconds. These two seem so loving and happy. They never let their smiles slip from their faces. They seem genuinely interested in us. Their excitement is infectious... and I like it.

"We were not expecting four, or we would have made dinner for six! We only made enough for three of us." Mr. Hernandez tells us. He looks concerned with the shortage of food.

"Oh, I'm not hungry," Nasom says.

"Yes you are! I'll make more!" Mrs. Hernandez says as she shuffles away from the door and into the kitchen.

"Come in! Come in!"

"Thank you," my mom says to Mr. Hernandez, "I know it's unexpected but I hope it's okay. This is my son, Vince. And this is his friend Nasom. And this pretty girl is...Ken, right?"

"Kennedy Faye." She smiles. "Nice to meet you. Thank you so much for opening your home for us!"

"No, no. Thank you for coming to us! We're so happy to see these young faces! Take a seat! Take a seat!"

We file into the warm living room. We sit on the peach colored furniture. Kennedy looking at me, I can tell she feels a little awkward; she keeps rubbing her neck. I'm the only one in the house she really knows.

I can hear the sweet couple in the kitchen opening cabinets and getting additional pans out. Mr. Hernandez pokes his head out from the archway every five minutes telling us the tasty spices he's using. I know this meal is going to be a great one. I can smell the spices. They're not only seasoning the food, but also the air.

I look at my mom. She straightens her shirt. She knows I want to ask her something, and it's not going to be easy. It's not going to be easy, but I want to know. And I'm sure Kennedy does, too.

"Mom, what happened to Rosemary?"

"Rose...Rose didn't make it."

Kennedy nods her head. Just as she expected.

"What happened?"

"Do not think it's your fault...because it's not."

My fault. Oh, no.

"After our talk through the fence, they ran over to me. I was walking back to my table for work. They're rough. They're mean. They almost knocked me down when they bumped shoulders with me." My mom grabs her shoulder, rubbing it as if it had just happened. "They started questioning people. Frantically. Shoving barrels of guns in their faces. This middle-aged man didn't want to say anything. They dragged him away from his table like he weighed only twenty pounds, like he was nothing. They threw him in the mud and went on to the next person. Rose was the next person."

Mr. Hernandez sticks his neck out from the kitchen, "Only just a few more minutes before dinner. You all are going to love it. Love it." He vanishes just as quickly as he appeared.

"Anyways, they started asking her questions like about what was going on. Then, she was the real Rose. The real Rose that nobody saw. She was my friend. She said that you were her son. She took all the blame. They killed Rose and turned her into an example. Rose saved my life." My mom breaks the sentence off and moves her hair behind her ear.