After she and Curtis had hastily returned to the village that afternoon, they promised to speak again by phone that evening. They needed to sort out the strange occurrence which had sent them back down the mountain in fear. Their promise to connect that night also carried a new acknowledgment of their expressed affections for each other as evidenced by the willingness on Simi's part and significance of the unforgettable kiss she had finally experienced. This had been awkwardly orchestrated but performed by the boy she now fully admitted to herself she adored. As she relived the brief moment, she wanted nothing more than to freeze and carry the intense few seconds forever.

It had seemed to Simi that Curtis had come back to town just as perplexed as she about the frightful incident, though she was more previously vigilant and aware of the circumstances which seemed to be growing by day against her. And while their plan was to talk that night following Curtis' duties at the store, he did not answer his cell phone at the anointed hour of 10:30 when he would be at home as arranged.

Simi tried again at 11:00 and 11:30 to reach him on the house landline but still it just rang continuously unanswered. After one last attempt at midnight, she gave up but with serious reservation that something more disturbing than Curtis' possible inattentiveness to his cell phone was going on. Being that the following day was a school day, she convinced herself that their discussion would have to wait until she would see him first thing in the morning on the bus.

Later still, after midnight, Simi met her parents over a late dinner when Gabriella returned from the restaurant. They asked her how things were going, as she had appeared lately reclusive and out of touch. Always in the back of their minds the whole business of the town's strangers having threatened their family was a significant part of their concerns. Luis and Gabriella had learned that with Simi it was best to be on top of things as they could quickly become unpredictable and often inexplicable.

Simi decided that evening to not be upfront with her parents. And it was on two issues she would not elaborate—her private walk out to the riverbed with Curtis, as she felt being a teen it was none of their business, and the frightening occurrence of a stranger in the bushes, obviously involving those present enemies. Revealing this second development she felt would only restrict her independence further if she told them. And for the time being, at least, Simi wanted to minimize the situation in her parents' mind rather than heighten their fears unnecessarily.

"So you haven't had any more run-ins on the streets with our French-speaking guests of Madrid, huh, Simi?" Her father delicately asked.

"Nope. They're probably just getting a little bored with this place. Maybe they're planning their trip back to France . . . or wherever they came from. . . following the terrible accident."

"Well, you know," Gabriella weighed in, "the Sheriff made it clear to us. If we have any more trouble from them, we should report it immediately. He said any incidents of harassment or stocking us . . . we report. You understand, Simi?"

"Yeah Mom."

"He said he's waiting for them to do anything illegal, and he'll get involved."

"Yeah mom. I heard him."

Her father could see she wanted to change the subject about the intruders. "So . . . how's school? You don't talk about it too much anymore. Those little angels over in Santa Fe still trying to get your goat, sweetie?"

Simi smiled. "Yeah, they keep trying. But they're so lame about it. I just don't play their childish games That's all. Most the kids there suck, really . . . except for one."

She instantly realized this was a mistake to say. The comment was sure to only bring more unwanted curiosity.

"So who's that Simi? So far you've told us only your art teacher is pretty cool."

"Yeah mom. Well, there are some OK kids there, I guess. I'm just too weird for most of them."

Luis and Gabriella glanced nervously at each other across the table.

"Sweetie . . . you're not weird . . . just artistic, that's all."

"Yeah Mom. I hear that a lot. Face it. I am strange. But I don't care anymore. And some people there actually like me for who I am."

Again, the unintended admission. It was some new revelation even to herself that she struggled to conceal.

"Well . . . are these some friends you want to invite over to the house?"

"Yeah, right Mom." She got up from the table nervously. "Those Santa Fe kids are just dying to come out to Madrid for some real fun."

"You shouldn't be ashamed of Madrid, Simi."

"I'm not mom. I just really don't need those kids . . . and they don't need me."

"Well you must have someone you. . ."

By then she was halfway to her room.

"Forget it mom. I'm fine."

Simi's last words wafted emptily out of the hallway.

* * *

The next morning at the bus stop Curtis was the last to arrive. He wore a baseball cap pulled down low on his head and seemed to be covering his face with his hand as he entered the bus. No one really noticed this but Simi, as she had held a seat for them in the rear area where few of the other children rode.

Curtis quietly stepped into the seat to join her, clutching his backpack and still shielding his face from view.

"Curtis? What's the matter?" Why are you . . ."

"It's alright. Shhhhh. Don't talk."

"What? Why? She looked around but no one was watching.

As the bus pulled away from the town square Simi tried to look into Curtis' face. He reluctantly turned away and remained quiet.

"Curtis? Is anything . . ."

Just then he looked up and she could see both his eyes were swollen and blackened. His once handsome face was now distorted by the profuse swelling.

"Oh my God, Curtis! What happened . . . who did this to you?"

"I can't talk about it. Just know I . . . crashed my bike last night."

"But I've never seen you on a bike."

She reached up tenderly to touch his face.

"I know. But that's going to be my story, OK?"

"What story? Why didn't you answer your phone last night? Tell me . . . please! Who did this, Curtis?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Simi."

"So just tell me. Oh my God! Does that hurt awfully, Curtis? Your eyes are almost swollen shut!"

"It was . . . my father."

She just stared into his injured face in disbelief.

"Why? Why did he do this to you?"

Her hand was now gently pressed against the side of his face to keep him from looking away.

"Tell me Curtis. It was those men, wasn't it? The ones who meet with your father."

"Yeah, it was them. They saw him again last night. They told him . . . we were together."

"At the river . . . the man that was spying on us?"

"Yeah. And so my dad went insane. He started beating me in front of them. It was like . . . he was doing it for them."

"Oh my God, Curtis . . ."

Simi was crying now. She held him in her arms, her head against his shoulder.

"They all warned me," he went on. "I' should never be with you again. And they were serious, Simi. Dead serious."

She continued to fight back tears and hold him tightly.

"Curtis . . . I care so much for you. And I promise . . . I'll stay away . . . if it means they never hurt you again. But we cannot let them do this. To you . . .or to us! It's just so unfair!"

He put his arm around her and pulled her head closer to his.

"I know you're right. And I care . . . deeply about you too. More than I've ever told you. I worry so much for you right now, Simi. More than for myself."

She said nothing, her shoulders began to softly shake as she broke down completely and cried. Curtis stroked her hair to calm her.

"You must understand," he said. "These people are who is evil . . . they want you gone or dead. I heard them talking like that again to my father. He's just not himself when he's around them."

"It's so wrong what he did to you, Curtis."

"He never hit me like that before. It's like they control him. He sends my mother out of the room when they talk."

"Has she seen your face?"

"No. I stayed away from her last night. And this morning. I didn't want her to know my father did this. I'll just tell her it happened at school."

"But Curtis. . . your father is . . ."

"No, Simi. Don't say it. He's still my dad."

"But. . . he's not himself. You need to tell someone. We have to report this attack to the Sheriff."

"NO! We can't do that!"

"Curtis . . . you must."

"No. I just have to stay the hell away from you. That's all! As they want!"

It was as if someone punched Simi as well in the face to hear those words.

As the bus pulled into the school drop-off zone Curtis silently pulled his backpack in close and up against his body. He lowered the visor on his cap just above his swollen eyes and left her sitting as the last passenger on the bus.

Simi's tears were still fresh on her cheeks as she entered her classroom. Overwhelmingly alone.

* * *