The waitress brings me my short stack, and I cover the whole thing in syrup. The first bite is sweet, but bitter, because I should be having this meal with Katrina and not Nathan. Nathan watches me for a minute, then speaks again. “Jackson... are you letting your emotions get the better of you?”
I half-slam my fork down and look him in the eyes. “You're goddamned right my emotions are involved in this, but fuck you if you think that it's a bad thing. My entire life, I've kept my emotions, my real emotions, behind a wall. Now that I’ve let someone past them, no way am I giving up on that person.”
Nathan takes another bite of hash browns and sets his own fork down. “Okay. I ask because I need to know how far you're going to take this. We stay here in Miami much longer, and your father is going to start asking what the hell's taking us so long.”
“Let him ask,” I grumble, taking another bite of pancake. “I don't care if I blow him totally out of the water on this. For fuck's sake, don't you see how wrong I was?”
“Not really. You haven't said much other than that you two had an argument, and that we're supposed to look for her. Hell, I don't even know much about what happened here in the city. Just obviously you found Samuel Grammercy.”
“Michael Ball now,” I correct him, then shake my head. “I guess it doesn't matter what the argument was about. What matters is what I've learned over the past two days.”
“And what's that?” Nathan asks curiously. “That you want to run away with her, make lots of little DeLaCoeur babies, and soak up some sun rays in a tropical paradise?”
I have to chuckle at his light jab, and shake my head. “No, although the tropical paradise part sounds pretty good. But I do know one thing... there are things more important than money.”
Nathan nods in acceptance, and we finish our breakfasts. “Okay, so what's the plan for today?”
“I'm going to go back down toward the University area,” I tell him, thinking quickly. “It's where her parents are living, and maybe she's going to try and do something. What about you?”
“I'm going to dig down in the industrial areas, maybe in some of the computer shops,” Nathan says. “If she is staying in Miami, she's more likely to go to the cultures and areas she's familiar with. That's the poor, the techies, and the industrial areas. So I'll start canvassing there. Do you know if she speaks Spanish? It might make certain areas more penetrable.”
I shake my head. “Honestly Nathan, I have no idea. Do you speak Spanish?”
The former Green Beret gives me a smirk and nods. “Si. He estudiado durante diez a?os, y puedo hablar en niveles cercanos a nativos.”
“I have no damn clue what you just said, but I'll take you at your word. All right, stay in touch.”
Nathan nods while I wipe my lips with my napkin and stand up. “If I find her?”
“Stay close, get in contact with me,” I tell him. “She doesn't trust you, I think. Also... I need to apologize to her, and tell her some very important things.”
“I understand. See you later.”
I leave the diner and get in my rental, driving down to the University of Miami. I drive as slow as I can over the neighborhood, even going through the U itself. A couple of girls give me looks, but I'm not looking for ass, I'm looking for Katrina. Finally, I pull over into a diagonal parking space, and I walk around campus a little, seeing if maybe I can spot her. Lots of girls, none of them look at all like Katrina, and I sit down, frustrated. I stare at my hands, wishing I could take back what I said, what a dumbass I was being.
“Hey man, you look like you need a friend to talk to,” someone says, and I look up, seeing what could only be the typical college campus bum. Slightly soiled shirt flaps untucked over his old jeans, and he's wearing Birkenstocks for fuck's sake. I take it back, he's not a bum, he's a Social Justice Warrior, probably. “Wanna talk?”
“No... well, okay,” I reply, and the dude takes a seat on the grass. “Just... it's about a girl.”
“What about her?” the SJW asks, relaxing back onto his hands. “Like, did she cuck you or something?”
“What? Cuck? Hell no,” I say, startled into laughing. “I just fucked up, that’s all.”
“How so?” the guy asks, and I shrug.
“We... we're trying to get something done, something really important to her and really to me too, but I chickened out. You see, if she does what she wants, then there's a good chance I'm out a ton of money. It's not good money, it's dirty as hell actually, but still... I've been living the good life for a long time, and I panicked. I tried to talk her into a safer path. She walked out on me, and since then, I've been trying to find her.”
“If you do, what will you tell her?” the SJW asks. I'm reminded of my conversation with Nathan this morning, and I chuckle.
“I'll tell her the truth. That she's more important to me than any money, that I woke up the past two days miserable because she's not there, and that if it means following her to hell, I'd rather do that than have all the money in the world.”