Free Island of the Sun by Matthew J. Kirby Page A

was to be a part of giving something back to his family. This was her vision of the world—one, she thought, that stood in opposition to Skinner’s. A place where people took care of one another, and made sacrifices for one another, and no one was left behind.
    They finished their stew, except for her mom, whose bowl looked entirely untouched for all her poking at it, and shortly after that, Arturo and his mother returned to the kitchen, both of them wiping their eyes. Arturo handed the phone back, and his mother grabbed Luke in a hug tight enough to squeeze a grunt out of him. He smiled and hugged her back.
    â€œDios te bendiga, Lucas,” she said. “Muchas gracias.”
    â€œYou’re welcome,” he said.
    She let him go and began clearing their bowls away, appearing much happier than when they’d first met her, and Eleanor was pretty sure the amount of food left in their dishes was the last thing on the woman’s mind.
    â€œFelipe say you need help,” Arturo said. “So I help you. What you need?”
    â€œI think someone might be tracking my plane,” Luke said. “I need to clean it.”
    Arturo nodded. “When?”
    â€œSoon,” Luke said. “Now.”
    â€œOkay.” Arturo pulled out his own phone and staccatoed away at its screen with his thumbs for a moment. “Okay, sí,” he said. “We meet you at your plane.”
    â€œGracias,” Luke said. “We’re at the international airport. South hangars.”
    â€œOkay,” Arturo said. “We will meet in thirty minutes. I take care of it.”
    Luke nodded and rose from the table. So did the rest of them, and Eleanor asked Arturo how to say
thank you for the soup
in Spanish.
    He looked up from his phone and blinked. “Gracias por la sopa.”
    Eleanor nodded and tried her best to repeat that to Arturo’s mother. The older woman smiled, said something back, and offered her a hug not quite as tight as the one she’d given Luke, but warm and more motherly than most of the hugs Eleanor had ever received from her own mom. Then Arturo showed them out, and they found their way back to the edge of the Tepito market through an evening sunlight that bronzed the canopies over their heads.
    They summoned another black shadow of a cab that came and drove them back to the airfield. There they found their plane situated in a hangar near therunways, and it seemed Luke’s bribe had worked for now, because no one else was around. Luke set about opening up panels he could reach from the ground and getting the plane ready for the sweep. Betty stayed by his side, helping, while Eleanor and her mom sat down on a couple of metal folding chairs they found near a mobile computer terminal.
    â€œI guess Simon’s not back,” her mom said.
    The way she said his name brought up a question that had been buzzing around her head for a while. “Simon?” she said, stretching his name into a tease.
    â€œOh, stop it,” her mom said.
    â€œHe calls you Sam,” Eleanor said. “No one calls you Sam.”
    â€œMy friends do.”
    â€œSo he’s just a friend, then?”
    Her mom hesitated. “He’s a handsome man with a brilliant mind I admire. But given our present circumstances, I have not given a lot of thought to romance. I’m sure you can understand that.”
    Eleanor smirked. “If you say so.”
    â€œWe’ve become close,” her mom said. “But nothing has happened, and I don’t see anything happening.” She crossed her legs, her ankle immediately bouncing in the air. “Maybe when this is all over.”
    â€œHe is handsome,” Eleanor said, smiling sideways.
    Her mom gave her a gentle swat on the arm, and Eleanor felt the affection in it, but after watching Arturo’s mother, she was left wanting . . . more.
    Not long after that, Arturo came, and he brought with him a man and a woman. He