Love in Disguise

Monday, April 21 The officers came and got Nancy, and once again Kya and I were alone. We enjoyed a night of good conversation and intimacy before she left for her days off the following morning. Shortly after Kya returned Monday morning, twenty-one-year-old Rosa came to join us. She was short and plump with straight, black, shoulder-length hair and dark eyes with eyelashes so thick and dark they never needed any mascara. I liked her the best, and she would remain there till I left on the 30th. Although I’d have preferred to have had Kya all to myself, I at least knew that this way there was no room for any Tara- or Nancy-type characters to join us. Rosa had a very bubbly personality that had a way of pulling someone out of the darkest mood. She loved to laugh and to make others laugh as well. That’s why I nearly hit the floor with shock when I learned that she was in for child abuse and second-degree murder. She simply seemed like the last person on earth to be a baby killer. Both my logic and my vibes told me she was innocent. I was never more grateful for my basic knowledge of Spanish. It was the only way we could communicate since Rosa knew only a few English words. I also interpreted for those officers who didn’t know Spanish. “I’m impressed with your Spanish,” Kya told me as we sat at the table while Rosa showered. “Thanks, but it’d be even more impressive if Rosa could be acquitted. Every core of my instinct says her daughter really did fall, just like she told me she did, and accidentally hit her head. It was not a case of abuse and murder at all. I just know it. If it was, God forbid, it wasn’t by her hand.” “Think so?” I nodded. “I hope you’re right then, and that she is let go or at least deported.” “Me too,” I said. Rosa and I laughed at just about everything and anything. Although it was Rosa’s nature to laugh anyway, she did it as a form of therapy to help her throughout her time of loss and grief—and grievous she was. Several times a day she’d break down in tears. I’d sit with her and hug her as a means of offering comfort and support. After all, no one else seemed to care about her as she mourned the loss of her daughter, except for her husband and the rest of her family down in Mexico. Rosa and her husband had only been in the States a short while and hardly knew anyone in Arizona. We were like sisters, she and I. We felt like we’d always known each other. To my surprise, this seemed to bother Kya. Where I thought it would please her to know that if I had to have a roommate, at least I had one I got along with, she seemed rather disturbed by the idea. I thought it was perhaps due to Rosa’s charges. I never thought at the time she could be even the slightest bit jealous of our quickly budding friendship. Because of my deep trust in Rosa, I even let her in on the fact that Kya and I liked each other, but I didn’t go into any explicit details. She was happy for me, hoping we’d see each other when I got out. Sometimes, when Kya would peer at us over a book or her paperwork, I would find myself wondering if somehow she knew I had told someone on the inside of our little secret.