Charlie's Girl

The lights were off in the cafe and the metal shutters had been pulled and locked over the storefront. A dog was curled up and shivering violently in front of the door. Charlie approached, out of breath and sweating, and tried to rouse the dog. It wouldn't budge and he finally resorted to kicking it hard in the ribs. The animal jumped up with a yelp and slunk off down the darkened street. Charlie banged his fist on the door as hard a he could for almost a minute. When he stopped, there was utter silence. Then, noiseless, the door cracked open.
--Sí, quien es? Who is it?
--Charlie. Déjame adentro. Let me in.
The door opened wider and he could see her face. He could tell she had been asleep.
--Mis padres estamos dormiendo. My parents are sleeping.
--No me importa, déjame adentro. I don't care. Let me in.
He started to push his way in and she gave way.
--Ya po, pase.
Inside the door led to a staircase, at the top of which was a small apartment over the cafe. Charlie climbed the stairs into the kitchen as she locked the door behind them. The lights were off, but the bright moonlight filtered in through a skylight above the dinning table. Charlie immediately went to the sink, grabbed a glass, and began to chug water. She came up next to him and put a hand on his head.
--Estás transpirando. Qué pasó? You're sweating. What happened?
He brushed her hand off and took a seat at the kitchen table. He dropped his head, resting his chin on his chest and staring down and the table. She stood by the sink looking at him, confused.
--Quieres té? Do you want tea?
--Whiskey.
She frowned and shook her head apologetically.
--No hay. There is none.
--I know. He muttered.
--Qué cosa?
--Té. Just give me té.
She was becoming visibly upset, but she kept silent and went about setting the kettle to boil. She prepared a cup of tea and placed it on the table, and then took a seat next to him. She took his hand in hers.
--Qué paso?
He looked up and met her eyes; dark and pleading. He sighed and, slowly, told her everything that had passed since he met the Teacher at Barcelo earlier that night. Her eyes grew wide and wet as he talked, and by the time he had finished she was crying. She crossed herself and murmured the Lord's prayer under her breath. Charlie sat silently, watching her. He pulled his hand away from hers and reached into his pocket. His face registered surprise and he pulled something out, holding it up to the moonlight to inspect it.
It was the notebook he had been handed in the room with the explosives. He flipped through it quickly and then shoved it back into his pocket. He put his hand into his other pocket and pulled out his cellphone. It showed no new calls.
--Y tú amigo? Donde está? And your friend, where is he? She asked, sniffling and attempting to correct herself.
Charlie shook his head.
--No sé. Corrió hacia otro lado. I don't know. He ran the other way.
She leaned in and kissed him.
--Necesito quedar aquí. I need to stay here. He said.
She drew back and shook her head.
--No puedo. You can't.
His face became stern.
--Me quedo aquí. I am staying here.
She said nothing more. He rose from the table and placed his tea mug in the sink. He then went into the bathroom and shut the door. He flipped on the light and pulled out the notebook from his pocket, turning to the last page that had been written on and examining it closely. The writing looked like scribble, but a few words stood out. He tore the page from the book, folded it carefully, and put it in the inside pocket of his jacket. He then took out his cellphone and dialed the Teacher's number. The phone beeped twice and then ended the call.
--Come on, where are you? He uttered to himself, trying the number again.
The results were the same and he shoved the phone back into his pocket and stepped out of the bathroom back into the kitchen. She stood and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pushing her head into his chest. He softened, and ran a hand absentmindedly through her hair.
--Necesito hablar con tu hermano. I need to talk with your brother. He whispered.
--Carlos?
--Sí. Al tiro.
--Ya. Mañana. De acuerdo? Ok. Tomorrow, alright?
He looked up at the clock above the stove; it read just past four in the morning. He kissed her forehead.
--Bueno.
He let go of her and walked into the living room, stretched out on the couch, and fell instantly to sleep. She came in after him with blankets that she gently draped over his fully clothed body. She then sat down next to him and watched as his chest gently heaved. After a while, she fell asleep.