Rocket Girl Ch. 05

This is the final chapter of Rocket Girl. So if you're ready, let's get to the happy ending, shall we?

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Aurora awoke first and spent a little time watching her new man sleep. At one point she felt as though she could almost begin to cry. She was so happy. She didn't know where this would end up, but she'd been serious the night before. Despite the joking between them, she knew that Will had meant it every bit as much as she had.

That was what was really hitting her so hard this morning. He'd meant it. He'd meant everything that he'd done from the softest kiss to his suggestion that they get married next week, though that was impractical. This still felt so right between them, and before they'd gone to sleep, they'd both admitted that what she'd suggested to him had worked. They really could just start.

No missed chances or misconstrued glances for them. No false starts, no pressure, just one big-assed on-ramp in front of them. She got out of bed carefully and pulled on Will's T-shirt, just to have something that had a bit of his scent right next to her skin. She smiled to herself, thinking that she could use it to sleep in, but almost laughed at the thought. It would do for now. She padded up the stairs to the kitchen in bare feet.

Aurora was reaching for the kettle to fill it when she noticed that it was already hot, and turned to find Leona smiling at her from her seat by the window at the other end of the kitchen.

"That's a really good look for you, Aurora," she grinned, "long hair free and bare-ass naked under that stupid shirt of Will's. You're looking a little um, well-loved this morning, I have to say. I'd ask if it went well. but I heard it last night anyway." She got up and walked over, "Here, you sit down and I'll make you your coffee. You've got to keep up your strength," she laughed.

Aurora didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or not, but before she could decide, Leona's hand was on her shoulder. "Come on," she said, "It's me here, your biggest well-wisher. Don't even think about feeling bad. Will's had to listen to Paco and me for years. Besides, I ought to be thanking you. When you screamed out his name that time so loudly, well, I mean the loudest time, Paco and I just looked at each other and began it ourselves. You don't have to say anything, honey, it's written all over your face and I'm so happy for you guys."

As they sat by the window together, Aurora struggled with something, but Leona finally got it out of her and grinned.

"Anyway," Aurora said, "I joked to Will that I had a big can of lube in my purse, but I really don't."

"Don't sweat it, Aurora, I've got you covered. It's not exactly a foreign concept to me, and I've got a new tube that you can have for later today." Her friend's expression made her laugh quietly for a few moments.

"Well, Steph and Jimmy are headed out to visit her mom and Paco and I are going to drop by your place to try to unruffle a few feathers today, so you'll have the house to yourselves all afternoon. By the way, is there anything that you need from home for the next few days? I figure that you're not going home for a little while at least, unless you can fit Will into your purse."

"Not all that much," Aurora said, "other than a couple of pairs of panties, maybe. I wasn't exactly planning our little romp yesterday, and I soaked mine. I'll wash them in the sink in his bathroom, but I've got nothing else until they dry."

"I've got some that I picked up last week and we're the same size for sure," Leona smiled, "Could there be anyone more in your corner?" she laughed at herself, "And anyway, it's about time that Will learns about the dreaded underwear in the bathroom thing. Paco used to grumble about it until I told him that it was his fault they were there, mostly."

They chatted their way through the first cup of coffee, and by the time the kettle clicked off for the next round, Will came stumbling up the stairs wearing only his jeans. He looked just a little worse for wear, but not by much. He ran his fingers through his hair, but he'd forgotten to do much more with his pants than pull up the zipper and the motion caused the jeans to slip down an inch. He squinted out of the side window of the kitchen, muttering something to himself about how everyone had the wrong idea about robins being chipper. He knew them to be loud-mouthed bastards, he grumbled, who loved to sit outside his window and scream at him while he was trying to sleep. He'd never figure out why there wasn't open season declared on them, he said.

But all of that changed when he heard Aurora's soft laughter. He turned to them and smiled sheepishly as he ran the fingers of one hand through his hair again.

"I'll need to make a doctor's appointment," Aurora said, "Something's gotta be wrong with me, Leona, I got out of a bed with that in it."

Leona chuckled, "I'm warning you right now. Watch out for when he's feeling a little embarrassed, like he's done some small thing wrong that he ought to have known better about. Like he'll need to be told ten thousand times about putting down the toilet seat. He doesn't even mean to be selfish about it, he's just thinking about important things like food and then he forgets. You'll want to hit him, but he'll toss you that little boy smile because he's genuinely sorry, and then you just can't stay mad at him."

"I already had my first lesson," Aurora laughed. "He left me about an inch of space between me and the edge of the bed. I wanted to wake him up and ask him to push over a little, but he had this smile like an angel, and I just didn't have the heart."

"I've got the answer to that one, "Leona smiled, "I used to have the same problem, but then I just started sleeping right ON Paco. You put your weight on the right spot, and he'll have to get up to pee and then you stake out your rightful claim to your half of the bed. It only doesn't work well if it's really hot and you don't have AC. Sometimes it makes them wake up and try to get you in the mood for some more fun. I've never minded that. You might want to file that away for later."

Will had seen their mugs by then and made them all coffee. "If you guys have about had your fun with me..."

He got their mugs sorted out as to who had which one, but turned when Aurora pulled his hand. "Come here, Will. We're just having some fun and I want to fix your pants." She sat and grinned up at him as she ran her hands over his chest for a moment before reaching for his jeans, "Ok, help me if it looks like I'm about to do what I really want to do here, Leona."

"No freakin' way," Leona grinned with mock interest, "You're on your own here. I never got much of a chance with that. So pardon me, Aurora, but you might say that I've got an interest in you getting it wrong. I'm banking on 'down', just so you know."

Aurora tugged his pants up a little and did up his button. Will beamed at her, "Thanks, Mom!"

"Now remember while you're at school today, play nice and share your t-" Aurora stopped, giggling, "What am I saying?"

Leona couldn't speak for a minute from her laughter.

Finally, he sat down and hugged Aurora after kissing her. "Hey, want to go for a ride this morning?"

Leona put her face down on her arm as she laughed. Will shot her a dry look, "Involving motorcycles."

"Sure, baby," Aurora grinned.

"Don't be too long coming back," Leona sat up, wiping her laughing tears away with the heel of her hands, "It'll be just you guys here, unless you get lost. Paco and I are going to visit Aurora's parents. Just a family thing to calm the waters and maybe do a little prep work for you guys behind the scenes since they'll all be meeting you someday, and if little Leona does this right, everything will work out and settle down."

She looked at Will, "They are an awesome family, and I'd hate to see this turn into a big rift. Besides, if I can manage it, they'll tell Aurora to bring you along to the biggest, most wonderful family barbecue you could ever imagine in a couple of weeks. Food like you've never seen, and you can just spend time walking around just listening to the music, because like, every fifth person will bring a guitar or something. It's really wonderful, Will. It goes on for like two days. Spanish music everywhere and I don't think she's told you, but Aurora is one fantastic flamenco dancer."

"Really?" Will turned to look at his girl, "I'd love to see that."

"Oh, you will," Leona smiled, "I don't think we'll have any trouble fixing this, and there'll be two of your very favorite things in the whole world there -- Aurora and --"

"Food!" Aurora laughed, rolling her eyes.

"Hey," Will said thoughtfully, "I've never asked, and I guess that shows the kind of lout that I am underneath, but what do you do, honey? I mean at where you work."

"I manage an office for a large travel company," she said, "And I hope that you've got some vacation time coming up, 'cause you and me, baby, we're going places."

They sat in the kitchen enjoying the morning with Leona as the sun streamed in the window. Leona studied their faces for a minute and then sat back with a satisfied look. Aurora smiled back at her, but Will was curious.

He asked, "I had the feeling from talking with you and the feeling I got from Aurora that I might have had the least vote in the start of this. Not that I mind, if it had been up to me, it would never have happened, since I'm so slow and all."

"We know," Aurora said smiling.

Leona said, "Women just know these things and can feel the undercurrents far more easily than most men - and you? Aurora could have hired skywriters and stood under a big flashing 'I LOVE YOU, WILL' heart-shaped sign and you wouldn't have gotten it. You're a hell of a guy, and I have no doubt that you can move mountains, but for this, you're thick as a post."

She smiled, looking out the window at a pair of sparrows, "When I was thirteen, I was so in love with you, Will. And you know, at that age, there's nothing more important than that to a girl. I was happy - until I met Paco through you. Then I was as confused as anything. If you remember that summer, my family went to visit my grandparents. My grandmother was and still is very much an old fashioned Gitano fortune teller. One day, she looked at me as we walked to a meadow with some lemonade, and then she told me to tell her my troubles. I hadn't said anything to her, but she's always just known these things."

"Anyway, I told her that I was torn, that I loved you very much - as only a thirteen year old girl can - but that I'd met Paco and felt drawn to him somehow. Most people in their fifties listening to that would have just shrugged and mumbled something about kids. But she didn't. She stopped me and told me to think of Paco for a minute, and then she said that we were very young, but that I'd met the one for me in him. I even knew that she was right. She told me that there is always someone for each of us, and sometimes more than one. She told me that as adults, either of my boyfriends would have worked well for my heart and theirs, but that Paco was the true one for my heart. It had just happened that I'd met him so early. She told me to hang onto him for our lifetime," she smiled, "and so that's what I'm still doing."

"My grandmother said that sometimes we can even see the one for us coming to us, if we know the old ways. She taught me and to no one's surprise, it was Paco for me, as plain as day. I asked her if this was normal, and she just said 'This is almost normal for us, Leona. Never forget who you are - what you are.' Then she told me her own story."

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He was dog-tired, soaked right through and frozen in the cold wind. But he was determined to know, and he was scared to death. Those things alone kept him in the saddle.

Down the road, a raccoon was about to leave the tall weeds at the side of the road to cross. She hesitated, listening. The rain poured down everywhere this awful night, and the wind almost screamed at times. But she'd counted on that tonight. It made being seen less likely as she'd foraged in the back of the kitchen tent that she liked to frequent. She'd just stepped out from cover when she was blinded by the huge eye of the roaring beast, and turned to run for her life. She didn't stop until she was sixty feet from the road and halfway up the first climbable tree that she found.

Ramon hadn't seen anything. He was listening to the roar and kept the throttle open as wide as he dared, watchful only for the road conditions in case they worsened, and for the turns that he'd have to make tonight. He'd woken from a dead sleep two nights before because he'd heard his wife cry out to him, and he hadn't really slept since. He'd been working at any job that he could get, and sending as much as he could back home to buy Rosalinda and their young daughter the fare to come to live with him here in this land of promise.

He grimaced, most of the promises that he'd heard had been empty ones so far. Her last letter told him that they were just leaving for Madrid, and it gave the name of the ship that they'd be coming on. From there, it was a long train ride to his arms, she'd written.

The morning after he'd heard her he was on his way to work when he'd caught a look at the headline of the newspaper in the hand of a boy who was selling them. What he'd seen in one quick glimpse on the front page of the paper would have driven him to his knees if he were on foot. Ramon could read English fairly well, but didn't normally buy newspapers - he saved every penny he could. His only expenses so far had been a little now and then for food and clothing, and the cost and fuel for his motorcycle. He'd bought it used, an old pre-war model Harley-Davidson, but it sure helped him in his search for the better job that seemed to always be just out of his reach. It kept him mobile, and he didn't mind the lack of a roof. None of the cars that he'd seen for his money looked like they could make it out of the county.

He pulled over and ran back. After fishing in his pocket, he bought a copy and tried to read the text, but was too upset to make much sense out of it. He got back on his bike and went to work with a sense of foreboding. When he got there, he was still early, so he went to see his foreman. He found him reading the same paper that he'd brought along. With a fair bit of humility, he apologized for the interruption, but wondered if he could get something straight about the story in the paper. His boss's explanation did little to ease Ramon's concern.

"Look. Ramon," the man said, "we don't have much time, but I can see you're having trouble understanding me here, and you're upset. Go see Juan over by the forming presses, he can translate for you. I'll allow you to come back five minutes late, since you were ahead so much when we stopped last night." Ramon thanked him, and ran off.

Juan translated the story in the paper, telling Ramon how the French liner had left the Spanish port, but had been torpedoed and then sunk by a British submarine that had mistaken it for an old liner that was often used to refuel German U-boat packs. Ramon asked about the name of the ship to be certain and then asked if there had been any survivors. Juan shook his head, saying that from the story, the liner had been found stationary and was hit by four torpedoes, and that had broken the ship's back. It sunk below the waves within two minutes. Ramon felt as though he'd been hit with a hammer.

Juan asked why he wanted to know, and Ramon had explained in a hollow voice. They talked for a couple of minutes, trying to come up with ways to determine for certain whether Ramon' family had been on board. Both were from small villages where there were no telephones, except for maybe at the police station and even then, the odds of even making a call back home in wartime... and the cost. Juan had an idea. He wouldn't have mentioned it to anyone but a countryman from the same kind of place where he'd come from.

"I know of a Gitano woman, east of here. She might be able to help you. But you will need money, my friend." He told Ramon that he'd bring a map the next day. Ramon thanked him and walked back to his department to begin his shift.

Juan was as good as his word, and provided Ramon with a hand-drawn map. The place was a hundred miles to the east, and more like a hundred and fifty if you took the bends and switchbacks into account. Ramon booked his one week of vacation for the next week in case he had trouble finding the woman, took his pay and left right after work in the driving rain.

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Two months before, Lola Montoya had gotten her few stringy cattle fed and collected a few eggs from her hens. She walked mechanically to her little house. She felt the need to do a few things at once. She wanted to laugh, but had no reason for it, and so she didn't. She wanted to cry again, but that was about all that she ever did lately. She looked at the small pistol that her brother had left her. She kept it mostly as a reminder of him, but it also had its use for her protection, she thought. But lately she'd begun to think of another last use that she might have for it. That use might well come soon, she was running out of reasons not to.

They'd come ten years before, her father wanting to get away from the stigma that had dogged them here in this new land. As a people, they were Iberian Kale, and together they were proud of their origins and the fact that almost no one understood those same origins. They had other names, in Andalusia where they'd come here from, they were called Gitanos. Here, everybody just called them Gypsies, and they said it as though they were spitting.

Her mother had taken sick in an influenza outbreak and died. Gitanos usually marry for love alone and their marriages last forever, through anything - that had always been their way. Her death had pretty much spelled the end for her father, but it had taken four years of very hard drinking to do it. Her brother had gone to find work, but that was two years ago now, and she doubted if she'd ever see him again. That had left her here on her own.

She'd had to sell herself sometimes for a bit of money. She hated to do it, and had wept for a week after the first time. Among her people, virginity was paramount to a groom - to everyone. Well, she doubted that a fine Gitano man was about to come over the hill for her, and even if one did, he'd have found her dead of starvation. Besides her brother, she'd never even seen one here.

She'd used the money she'd saved to buy a cow. It hadn't looked that good, but she'd gotten a good price because of it - and she sensed that it was pregnant. So that gave her a cow and a young bull. The chickens and rooster, she'd just stolen.

She'd sold some eggs and a few fortunes and if she had enough left over, she bought herself a bottle. She was careful to stretch it, and wanted to avoid what had killed her father. That just wasn't the way that she wanted to go, and it cost too much as well. But she knew that if she ever reached the point that she'd use the pistol, she would pour the liquor around the place and light her own pyre before she did it.

One fitful stormy night not long after, she'd sat by candlelight and sipped slowly as she laid out her cards for herself. The question in her mind was a delicate one. She wanted a clue to her life and its future. If it came up as more of the same, well, she had her pistol and just needed the courage to finish this. There were all kinds of reasons in her religion not to think this way, and maybe she'd find the strength to go on, but she doubted it somehow. She considered each card as it was turned, but purposely ignored what might be spelled out until the end.

When the last card was turned, she poured herself a second small drink and sipped as she looked. What she saw made her put down the glass and stare. She ran through the shack to find a pencil, and made notes. Then she shuffled and laid them out again. The messages were very similar. The third time is charmed they say, and it read the same. Lola tried other methods of divination that she'd learned from her parents. That night, nothing failed her, and at last she felt some hope for herself and wept a little. She'd been waiting since then. What was the worry for her was that she'd seen that there would be pain in the cards, but she didn't know what that meant yet.