He thought of her now as he glimpsed La Perla through the window of his military escort vehicle.
“Can we stop here for a second?”
“Congressman, I’m sorry, but we can’t take you there. La Perla is a mess and we’ve got to get you back for the helicopter tour.”
“We’ll be fine,” he offered firmly.
They could not make it into the barrio by car, their path blocked by a downed phone line. While the National Guardsmen assessed the road, Prieto jumped out, winding his way down a sloping footpath covered with leaves and debris towards Magdalena’s, and his father’s, onetime home. Had she been home during the storm, she surely couldn’t be there now. The roof was torn off, the windows blown in, and half the second floor had collapsed onto itself. Down the street he saw an old man wearing the apron of a bodeguero coming out of his building with a broom. Given the state of the street—fallen branches, scattered leaves, shattered car windows, rubble from buildings—the broom seemed a laughable tool. Nevertheless, the man began to sweep. From the top of the steps, one of the National Guardsmen was beckoning Prieto back to the car, so he called out to the man in Spanish—
“Does Magdalena still live here?”
“Yes, but her sons took her to the mountains before the storm. To the Pa?uelos Negros.”
Prieto was unsure what that meant. The National Guardsmen were approaching now, calling his name.
“If she comes back, tell her that Prieto came to check on her.”
The man nodded and put a thumb in the air.
“Pa’lante,” Prieto called out.
“Siempre pa’lante,” the man called back.
Keep going. Always keep going.
* * *
TWO DAYS PRIOR, Prieto did not think that anything—not even a catastrophic Category 5 hurricane—would ever take his mind off his HIV test. From the moment he allowed his sister to schedule the appointment, it was his near singular obsession. He was haunted by the idea of leaving Lourdes without her father, inflicting a pain on her life that he knew all too well. He knew dwelling on death was irrational, but found himself unable to pull his mind back from wandering these dark alleys. The night before he’d been unable to sleep. He was high-strung when he arrived at the doctor’s office. He felt like the nurse gave him a screw face when he got up to follow Olga into the exam room. His heart had been racing, confident that this was a terrible idea.
At first, it certainly seemed that way. His sister had told him that the doctor was cool with her plan, that it was a simple favor. But it became apparent that Olga hadn’t told anybody shit. First, the nurse tried to take Olga’s blood, which made his sister insist on seeing the doctor personally, which then, understandably, made the nurse feel insulted.
Prieto could hear her muttering to the other nurses about how the doctor probably hadn’t drawn blood since med school, but Olga wasn’t paying attention and, at the end of the day, it wasn’t Olga’s arm that was about to be poked.
“I can’t believe they already lost power,” she said while she scrolled her phone.
“Honestly? Most of the island didn’t have power back from Irma.…”
“What’s going to happen?”
“They were already fucked, now they will be fucked in the dark.”
“Jesus, Prieto! Way to be a Debbie Downer over here!”
He pinched his eyes as he appraised his sister. Did she think, moments before having to get a fucking AIDS test, he was going to muster the energy to play Mr. Optimist? He was tired of this role. Before he could reply, the doctor walked in. Prieto watched as she absorbed his presence and realized that she had no idea of the favor they were about to ask. While it had occurred to him that perhaps this scheme of Olga’s violated some sort of ethical code, it suddenly dawned on him that Dr. Gallagher might be the type of person to be affronted by the request. He and his sister could very well be thrown out in a matter of moments and he’d be back where he started.
“Congressman Acevedo!” Dr. Gallagher exclaimed. Her expression transitioned into a smile. “It’s a real pleasure—a surprise, but a pleasure. Olga, I don’t think I’d made the connection that you and our fine congressman were related!”
Olga winked at her brother from her perch on the exam table. Puta. He knew this favor was for him, but he fucking hated the way she always managed to get her way. Prieto shook the doctor’s hand.
“Well, Marilyn, you know, I don’t like to go around bragging, but believe me, I’m very proud of my brother!”