“And you were supposed to live with him?”
“Sí.”
“I’d have run away, too,” she said. “I know something about him. He’s not a regular teacher anymore. He had to resign two years ago under a cloud of suspicion. I’m surprised Edward’s mother hired him to tutor Edward’s sister, in fact.”
I asked her what she meant by a cloud of suspicion.
“Nube de la sospecha? Some young girls said he had done things, touched them in places he shouldn’t. The school didn’t make a big deal of it. They tried to keep it quiet. He supposedly resigned for health reasons, but most people knew the truth.”
She turned around and said something to Edward, who leaned forward to say, “Baker no bueno. He’s a sicko.”
“So?” Elena asked again. “What just happened to you? It’s better that you tell everything.”
I looked back at Edward, and then I began. When I told her he was calling me Señora Baker as soon as we entered the rental house, her eyes widened.
“He said we would be newlyweds.”
“He said that?”
“He made me watch a bad movie.”
She wanted to know what I meant, and I told her about some of it.
Edward kept asking her what I was saying, now impatient with waiting.
“Wait,” she told him. “And then what?” she asked, I quickly got to how Señor Baker had spanked me for making mistakes in English.
“On your bare ass?”
“Sí, yes.”
“What?” Edward cried. “C’mon, Elena, what is she saying?”
“Go on,” she said, ignoring him and looking even more interested.
It really embarrassed me to continue, but I did. I told her about his nudity and about his drinking and then fastening me to him with his belt. As I spoke in Spanish, she translated for Edward in English, and he kept mumbling, “The son of a bitch. The bastard.”
“So, he fell asleep before he could do anything more to you?” Elena asked pointedly. “If he did anything more, you should tell us, Delia.”
“He fell asleep, yes. That was when I ran away.”
“And then Edward went there to get you, discovered him, and went looking for you.”
She repeated more to Edward, and he spoke.
“He said he found you running in the road, and he’s sorry he caused you to fall.”
“I thought it was Señor Baker coming after me.”
“I don’t blame you for being terrified. Jeez, Edward, are you going to take her to the police?” she asked him. “You should go to the police,” she told me.
I couldn’t help but be afraid of that. What if Señor Baker told them lies about me? What if they didn’t believe me? Would they put me in jail? And what would happen to my grandmother if she learned such a terrible thing? Would everyone in my village find out and believe bad things about me?
“No, I can’t do that,” Edward told her. “They’d come to the house and create real noise. They’d want to know why my mother sent her off, everything. No police,” Edward said, looking at me.
“Big deal, Edward. So they ask your mother questions? They should. I don’t understand why your mother hired an illegal Mexican immigrant girl who can’t speak English well and then decided to pay for private tutoring. Who tutors their help around here, especially i
llegal help?”