The Guadeloupe Squadeloupe

Chapter XXXXII: Guad

"I'll come back to haunt you. Memories will taunt you... As adults we'll grow and maturity'll show of the terrifying rarity of truth."- Haunt // Bastille

I never finished reading those letters. I feel as though my mind's been trying to remind me of this for days but I've avoided listening.

It was so long ago that I got that packet of letters from the plane crash, the ones that Delgato or someone must have planted there.

I read the first one, but I couldn't go further once I'd finished. My mother tried to convince me that it didn't matter that she worked for HEXA and Delgato. If she had so much love for me how could she have none for the poor people HEXA tortures in experiments every day? People like Bob?

You should read the others, something tells me. Automatically I refuse the thought. From when my parents died when I was 10 until I read that letter, I had the upmost reverence for them. My parents always seemed a little distant, but they provided. That's what they were supposed to do.

But they supported Delgato? How can I trust them?

Just read the letter, Guadalupe!

"Okay, okay," I accidentally mutter out loud in Spanish.

No one answers, since we've pulled over to sleep for a while because Janis is the only one that can drive.

The bundle of ten or so letters, all in envelopes but not addressed, have been sitting in my back pocket for weeks. They're torn, soaked, and begging me to read them.

I take the one under the one I've already read. It's dated for a few months later, at a time when I was 4, 16 years ago. I bite my lip. Perry and the twins were being born that long ago. That's how long this letter has been around to taunt me.

Unfolding it, I lean back in my seat and glance around attentively, as if even now Delgato is watching.

Perry belts a loud snore next to me, dried tears awkward and crusty on his cheek. Outside, a gorgeous myriad of stars blankets the sky, each waiting for me to read.

Awaiting something terrible, I open the letter, unfolding the stained parchment.

Hola, Guadalupe. Once again it's in Spanish.

I wish I were here to explain in person everything about our dealings in HEXA. But I know we will both be long dead before we get any chance to speak to you about it. I know because you are in the front room right now, playing with your lion toy and pretending to give it surgery. You would make a good scientist like us. 

I already have to look away and stare into the darkness of outside the van. No, staring isn't enough.

I open the door and climb out. Crickets chirp and this terrain is like the land north of Punta Arenas. It's slightly more familiar than the other jungles we've been too; my parents would take me on vacations to the deserts near Santiago.

Leaning against the van, straight ahead of me I can see a large cactus looming over my inferior height. Just keep reading, it says.

Although it may sound as though we are heartless "villains," I promise you that your father and I have always loved you more than you can imagine, especially now with this hard life you must be living.

We know HEXA does things you must hate, or even fear. But we are (or were, for you) only progressing the human endeavor and ability.

Do you know how much HEXA has found out about the human capabilities and how they can be expounded upon?