Bill of Human Wrongs

Eve woke up around 1am. She’d slept for hours and was now wide awake, too awake to sleep anymore. Her body felt sticky and then she remembered the dream, or the nightmare.

Conchita.

The guilt she suffered was eating her alive. That poor family, they deserved to know.

She looked around at her foreign surroundings, wondering what her new life would be like. She became more agitated, more restless. She was thirsty.

 When it became clear that she wouldn’t get back to sleep, she got up and dressed. Her purse was sitting next to her bed and fiddling with it, Eve felt inside for some paper to write on. She needed to go for a drive, do anything to get her mind off the shame of staying silent. She’d leave a note for Ron and Christine. Pulling Claire’s business card from her purse, she stared at it. The temptation to use it for her message was overwhelming, but she hesitated, and then replaced it back in her purse.

Venturing downstairs, she found a fresh notebook pad and wrote a short letter to her hosts just in case she didn’t return before they woke.

Ron and Christine,

I can’t seem to sleep so I’m going for a drive to clear my head. Don’t worry if I’m not here for breakfast, will connect with you soon. Thank you for your hospitality and helping me through yesterday.

Eve

Eve enjoyed driving. She opened the window and let the fresh air gently blow against her face. She loved their little neighborhood, the clean streets, the cute and well-kept houses, it was charming. She remembered Ron saying that they lived on the north end of town, a more desirable part of the settlement where they didn’t worry about vandalism or robberies. She saw the guard at the neighborhood gate and slowed down to a halt. When she told him she was staying with Ron and Christine, he smiled and opened the gate for her.

For the next hour, she drove around inspecting the different districts. However, once she left the north end, she noticed that the cleanliness had dissipated somewhat, there were some unpaved side roads, and she saw graffiti on many building walls. It was similar to the sites she’d seen the day before. Still, she felt comfortable, cheerful.  

The light on her gas gage turned red, it didn’t take long to find a gas station. While the man filled her tank, she went into the attached convenience store to look around, but stopped when the glaring headline in the local paper caught her eye. The bold font shouted at her, CONCHITA Se Busca. Her lack of knowledge for the language wasn’t an obstacle this time; she knew it must be saying that the woman was still missing. Picking up the paper, she paid for it along with her gas. She slipped it into her purse, and resumed her night drive. As she slowly drove down the street, she noticed the posters nailed to many of the power poles. Conchita had been loved by this town.

Up ahead, Eve noticed some large gates, she was approaching the border. She slowed the car to where the patrolman waved her through, he probably assumed she was harmless since she was white.

Now in White Town, she looked in her rear view mirror. She was outside the confines of her new home, but this time, was struck by the wall built around the township. Barbed wire was attached to the crest of the stones, giving the illusion that signified a prison to those people she’d known all her life. It was scary for them to think about what might be on the other side. But to her, it no longer affected her in a negative way. It suddenly represented a new start for her, a new beginning where she could make a good life for herself.

Eve smiled and patted her stomach. She had made the right decision at the hospital, she was happy, maybe better-off than she’d been in her lifetime. She was going to have this child and love it. It was innocent. That vile act of beastly aggression had nothing to do with this baby.  She now saw the child in a different light, a wonderful retake on what had happened. This child was the product of Eve, just Eve. 

She spotted an all-night eatery and stopped for coffee. It was there that she braved it and tried to call Claire. The idea had been nagging at her during the day, she had to try leaving a message. Claire and Rachel had been rude to her, but she still had a strong desire to understand their problem with her story.  When she got a beeping sound with the number she called, she tried again. The second time, a recorded voice told her that the number didn’t exist. She tried a third time and got the voice again.

She laughed, but sounded cynical, and then became angry. She ripped Claire’s business card in two and threw it on the ground. Then, guilt took over. She wasn’t the type to throw her garbage around. She picked up both pieces and tossed them into her purse. She couldn’t believe those women. They dared to be angry with me, and it was Claire who was the fake.

She was livid.

An urge came over Eve, an overwhelming urge to find Claire and let her have a piece of her mind. She headed for D.C. in the off chance that she would find the woman in her special coffee house. Incensed, she thought, Senator, huh? Well, lady. I don’t know why this turns you on to call yourself a Senator, but you’re going to find out that I know you’re a phony.