12: Knocking on the Door- MAGGIE

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Abuelita Maggie rocked quietly back and forth in her rocking chair. She barely listened to the news as it blared from the television. Instead the old woman stared at the front door waiting for her granddaughter to come home after school. It was nearly seven in the evening. Usually Hope got home well before four o'clock.

"This just in," said the news reporter. "It seems a possible bomb went off today off the corner of Pennington Ave and Halbert Street. Officials say they received a call around 3:45 PM from residents nearby complaining about an explosion of the former Francis and Kyle Law firm offices. No one was hurt in the blast, but residents are shaken. Bomb squad reported that the explosion may not have been caused by a bomb at all as there was no sign of damage to the building's interior or structural integrity and no sign of bomb fragments or equipment. Strangely it seems only the windows of the building were damaged. Glass as you can see behind me was blown passed the sidewalk and even into neighbors' yards. This is truly bizarre, as one homeowner put it. No word yet on possible suspects or motives. Officials are urging residents of Orange County to not see this as a terrorist threat until further investigation can be done. Neighbors say they are just glad that no one was hurt. We hope to have more on this story later on. Back to you, Bill."

"Mi abuelita," cried Laura as she skipped into the living room. The young girl grabbed hold of her grandmother's rocking chair and smiled revealing a small set of missing teeth.

"Hush your Spanish, Laura. You know your mother hates it."

"Sorry, abuelita— I mean grandma," said Laura crossing her legs.
"Oh, your abuela can't be mad at you. Not with that face." She pinched Laura's cheeks. "Qué guapo eres."

"Grandma! You spoke Spanish."

"Oh, so I did." Maggie laughed bringing her finger to her lips. "Shhhhh. Now what is it, dear?"

"Grandma Maggie, look what I drew." Laura waved a sheet of paper into the air. Maggie giggled, grabbing her granddaughter's drawing.

"Oh me oh my. You know I can't see this without my glasses, Laura," said Maggie pointing to her eyes. "It seems I have misplaced them. Can you help me find my missing glasses?"

"Yeah, and then you'll look at my drawing? I've gotten quite good."

"Of course, Laura dear."

Barbara stomped into the room with a flustered face and frizzled dark hair as young Laura zoomed passed her. "Mother, have you heard from Hope today? Did she call home?"

"I am afraid I have not," said Maggie. "Is something the matter, Barbara? Work got you stressed again?"

"No it's not that." Barbara pointed to the empty coat rack knob labeled HOPE. "School let out about three hours ago, and Hope has not gotten back yet. I saw the bus pass by, but it did not stop."

"She is probably out playing with her friends," said Maggie with a smile. "I am sure she will be home before supper."

"Mother, we both know Hope doesn't have any friends. She is what these kids call today a loser. Keeps her head in her books just like her dad."

"Barb, have you tried calling her. You gave her that cell phone for a reason."

"She wouldn't talk to me even if I wanted her to." Barbara tied her hair into a ponytail. "Especially not after this morning. I wouldn't be surprised if she is doing this to spite me."

"Hope is a sweet girl. I doubt she would do such a thing."

"I wish I had your confidence, mother," said Barbara as she peeked out the window. "Where is that child?"

"She will come," said Maggie calmly. "They always do. You were a child once. I remember when you left for the night to go to a concert and didn't tell me. I was worried sick."

"Yeah, but Hope doesn't listen to music. All she does is read. They don't have concerts for that."

"Give her some time. When she gets hungry enough, Hope will come back."

"Well I cooked her favorite dish tonight. Beef tamales with some calabacita on the side." Barbara bit her knuckles. "Ohhh, why am I so nervous all a sudden. I feel like something terrible has happened."

"Cálmate, Barbara, cálmate."

"You know I dislike it when you speak Spanish. It is bad enough I have to cook those dumb Latino dishes for you and Hope."

"And that is why she stormed out this morning. When will you let Alonso go?"

"Mother," cried Barbara rubbing her forehead, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Then you shouldn't have mentioned it."

Barbara sighed and sank on the couch. Her arms and back were ridged with anxiety.

"Hope already hates me for his death. I just want to protect her."

"Are you sure about that? Perhaps this has nothing to do with Hope and more about you being unable to say goodbye. Someday you will have to let go of your troubled past or better yet, embrace it." Maggie swayed back and forth. "You can't just abandon your family's heritage because it reminds you of him. You have to think about how Hope feels. And Laura. Both of them lost Alonso too."

"Mother, please stop. Now is not the time."

Maggie sighed. "Si cariño."

Barbara gave her mother a stern glare when suddenly there came a knock on the door. She instantly stood up.

"There she is," cried Barbara, throwing her hands in the air. "Late. Late. Late. I ought to ground her for a week." Barbara opened the door ready to fuss, but instead of Hope, a tall young man paced in the doorway.

"Hey, Ms. Martinez, it's Marcus from school." He peeked over Barbara's shoulder. "Is Hope ready? I told her I would be here for seven for our date."

"A date? Tonight?" Barbara's mouth opened in shock. "Oh, Marcus, yes" cried Barbara remembering. "N..No," she said, shaking her head back into reality. "Hope is not here?"

"Not here? But where is she?" asked Marcus, looking a little hurt.

"I don't know," replied Barbara confused. "She hasn't come home today."

"I'll give her a call." Marcus pulled out his phone and dialed Hope's number. A few seconds later, he slowly pulled the phone away from his ear. His face dazed.

"What is it?" asked Barbara. Her face was flushed with concern. "Did she pick up?"

"It says that the number I tried to reach is no longer in service."

"That's ridiculous."

Barbara grabbed her phone and dialed her daughter's number. The same recorded response echoed in her ear. By now her hands were shaking and sweating. Where was Hope? Meanwhile in the living room Laura had found her grandmother's glasses.

"Here you are, Grandma," said Laura handing Maggie a pair of large spectacles with thick lenses.

"Oh, thank you, deary," said Maggie puckering her lips into a big smooch. She kissed Laura's forehead. "Now let me see that drawing."

"Here." Laura placed the drawing in her grandmother's lap. Maggie ran her fingers across the page.

"You have gotten better!" she cried. "Looks like you've been practicing from that book I got you."

"Yeah," said Laura. "See how I shaded the grass different colors."

"I see. What a good artist you are turning out to be." Maggie pointed to a person in the picture. "Now who is this girl? Is it you?"

"No, it's Hope," explained Laura pointing to a girl with red glasses, a brown ponytail and a yellow coat.

"Ah, I see. And who are these other people?"

"That's the boy she found," said Laura pointing to a drawing of a boy with yellow light coming off his fingers. "And this," Laura pointed to the third figure, "is the monster chasing her."

Maggie brought her hand to her mouth. She cried in terror, "Oh Dios mío!" The figure Laura had drawn was a dark black circle with purple glowing eyes. She looked at her granddaughter with overwhelming terror. From her trembling lips only one word escaped, "Tartarus!"

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