Santa Olivia (Santa Olivia #1)

“It’s all right.” Sister Martha fell in beside Loup. “There’s a chart in the rectory with all the plots. We know where everyone rests. No one is lost.”

Loup nodded and fixed her gaze on Tommy’s broad back. He was serving as a pallbearer along with Father Ramon and Floyd and Grady and two boys she didn’t know—church orphans. One looked to be about fourteen, handsome and slender. The other was younger, with hard gray eyes and a mouth shut in a firm line. She’d wanted to be a pallbearer, but Tommy had been afraid it would make people suspicious.

When this was over, Tommy would leave. He’d go back to the gym with Floyd Roberts and take up residence in an unused office. He’d live and work and train at the gym, and Floyd would pay him enough money to get by.

The thought made her feel very alone. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it wasn’t a good one, either. That probably meant that if Loup were normal, she’d be frightened. But mostly she was just sad.

There was a fresh hole with a big pile of dirt and a special sling beside it. The men lowered the casket into the sling, then eased it into the hole.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” Father Ramon crossed himself. “May God’s peace be upon her.”

There were plain, ordinary shovels in the dirt. Tommy took one, shoveled a spadeful of dirt onto the casket. He dragged his shirtsleeve over his eyes, then passed the shovel to Loup.

Dust to dust, she thought.

Dirt rattled on the plain wooden casket. Someone took the shovel from her hand. Loup lifted her face and gazed at the vivid blue sky.

“You okay?” It was the boy with the gray eyes. He had a thin white scar creasing his face and a surprisingly deep voice for his age.

“I guess,” she said.

“You will be.” He laid one hand on her shoulder and squeezed it, then looked at her with a surprised frown. Loup moved away from him.

“Mack.” Sister Martha hurried over. “Will you and Diego finish?”

He took up a shovel. “Sure, Sis.”

And that was it. It was over. They turned and went back, leaving the church boys to finish the work of burying Carmen Garron. In the courtyard, Danny Garza shook Tommy’s hand and offered a word of condolence. Even Miguel gave him a brusque nod. They were treating him as a man grown. She supposed today he was.

“Bye, little one,” Grady said gruffly to her. He stooped and folded her in a bulky embrace, smelling of sweat and grease. “Be good. There’ll always be a bite for you at the diner.”

Loup hugged him back carefully. “Thanks, Grady.”

“Loup?” Sister Mary led over a striking young woman with long, shining black hair. “This is Anna. She’ll help you get settled here.”

Anna gave her a beautiful smile. “You don’t remember me, but I was there when you were born, Loup. I’m so sorry about your mother.”

“Thank you.”

Anna held out her hand. “Do you want to come with me and see your room? Mr. Grady and your brother had your things sent over.”

Loup looked past her. “Tommy?”

He came quickly, looking stricken. “I’m sorry!” He knelt on the hot tiles of the courtyard and took her hands in his. “It’s only for a little while, loup-garou,” he murmured. “Only until Floyd gives me a prizefight. Then I’ll start winning money, even if I lose at first. I’ll be able to get a place for us.”

“I know,” Loup said.

Tommy squeezed her hands. “Then I win a ticket north for both of us, right?”

“Yeah.” She smiled at him. “It’s okay. It’s what Mommy wanted. I know you promised.”

He stood. “I’ll come see you every weekend. And you come to the gym any time, okay? Floyd says it’s okay. Any time.”

Loup nodded. “Okay.”

“You’ll take good care of her?” Tommy asked Sister Martha.

The nun-who-wasn’t-a-nun gave him a long, grave look. “We’ll do our best.”

“Okay.” Tommy pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Okay.”

Loup jerked her chin. “Go.”

Tommy went.

ELEVEN

So!” Anna said with cheerful kindness. “Here we are.”

Loup cocked her head, eyeing the rows of cots. Most were empty and unmade, just bare mattresses. Only a few had sheets and blankets. One had a skinny blond girl lounging on it, reading a book. One held a duffel bag she recognized from the gym.

“That’s yours,” Anna said. She pointed at a row of dressers. “You can put your clothes in any empty drawer.”

“Thanks.” Loup sat on the bed.

The blond girl on the bed opposite rolled onto one elbow. “I’m Jane.”

“Loup,” Loup said.

“Short for Louise? Luisa?”

Loup shook her head. “L-O—” She had to think back to Sonia’s spelling lessons, learning to write her name in careful letters. “L-O-U-P. It’s French. For wolf.”

“Wolf!” Jane exclaimed scornfully. “French, is it?”

“Be nice, Jane,” Anna said in her melodic voice. “This is a hard day for Loup.” Her brows furrowed. “Can I get you anything, honey?” she asked Loup. “You want to see the rest of the church? Or would you like a Coke?”

Loup shook her head. “No, thanks.”

“Okay.” Anna lingered doubtfully. “Okay, dinner’s at six. If you need to talk, just come find me, sweetheart. Otherwise, Jane will show you to the hall, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jane waved a careless hand. When Anna left, she muttered under her breath, “Slut.” She read for a moment, then peered over the edge of her book. “You know she is, right? You know the deal here?”

“No,” Loup said.

“Oh, shit!” Jane hauled herself to a sitting position and closed her book. “Father Ramon? Not a real priest. Sister Martha? Same deal. Shit, they’ve been fucking for years, since she was like sixteen years old. You know what fucking is, don’t you?”

“Sort of,” Loup said.

Jane hooted. “You don’t!”

Loup shrugged. “Tell me, then.”

She did.

Loup listened. “Okay. So?”

“So… shit!” Jane scowled at her. “They’re not supposed to do that, okay? I know. I read. You don’t read much, do you?” When Loup shook her head, Jane hooted again. “I knew it!”

“So?” Loup repeated mildly.

“Are you, like, slow?” Jane asked. “Dense?” She lowered her voice. “Anna shares a fucking bed with them, okay? Both of them. That’s why she’s a slut.”

Loup glanced around the room. “Is there anyone else here, or is it just us?”

“Ah, fuck you!” Jane opened her book.

“Hey.” A boy’s curly head poked into the room, his brown eyes bright with interest. “Crazy Jane,” he said in greeting. “This the new girl?”

“Fuck you, T.Y.” Jane hunched her shoulders.

Loup stood. “I’m new.”

“Hey.” The boy grinned. “I’m T.Y.”

“Loup,” Jane spat without looking up. “L-O-U-P, Loup. It’s French for wolf. I had to teach her what fucking was. Her mother just died and Anna says be nice. Got it?”

“Got it,” T.Y. said affably. “You want to see the place, Loup? I’ll show you around.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

T.Y. showed her all the best places of the church: the rec room in the basement, the kitchen and the passages that led to it, the outer and inner courtyards. The inner courtyard had a fountain that actually worked, powered by the reservoir. “You want to see something cool?” He glanced around, then lowered his voice and pointed at a persimmon tree growing at the edge of the lower roof. “Okay, quick.” He climbed agilely up the tree, Loup following, then showed her how to clamber onto the rounded red tiles. At the top, he straddled the spine and pointed again at a window. “That’s Father Ramon and Sister Martha’s bedroom.”

“Yeah?” Loup gazed over his head. “Anna’s, too?”

T.Y. glanced over his shoulder at her and blanched. “Jesus fucking Christ! Are you crazy? Sit down!”

Standing balanced atop the roof’s spine, Loup looked from T.Y.’s white face to the drop into the courtyard below. “Sorry.” She sat carefully to straddle the spine like he was. He just stared at her, his chest rising and falling quickly. “I wasn’t thinking.” She peered over the edge, gauging the drop. “It’s not that far down.”

“Are you crazy?” T.Y. repeated.

“No.” She shrugged. “My mother just died, okay?”

It mollified him. “Yeah. I’m sorry. You scared me, you know?”

“Sorry.” Loup cocked her head. “What about you?”

“My parents?” T.Y. picked at a cracking tile and looked away. “I dunno. I’m the miracle baby.” He pried off a flake of glazed red clay and flicked it away. “You hear about the night the rockets fell? Long time ago?” She nodded. Everyone in Outpost knew that story. “I’m the bomb baby. The one they found. No one ever claimed me.”

“So you been here all your life?”

“Yeah.” T.Y. scooted around on his butt to face her. “It’s not so bad. Don’t listen to Crazy Jane.”

“Do you think everyone’s crazy?” Loup asked.

“Nah.” He laughed. “It’s a nickname. Father Ramon gave it to her because she gives him a hard time. He says it’s ironic.” He pronounced the word with care. “It’s from some old poem, I don’t know exactly.”

“Well, she doesn’t like Anna,” Loup observed.

“Ah, Jane’s just pissed.” T.Y. shrugged. “Anna’s our teacher, except on days like today when there’s church business. And Jane just thinks she’s smarter than everyone, including Anna. Which is kinda true, actually, except for maybe Jaime. They’re both awfully smart. Plus, Anna’s pretty. And yeah, Father Ramon likes her, and so does Sister Martha. I don’t think Jane’s gonna be as pretty when she grows up.” He ducked his head, his color rising. “Not like you.”