Forget to Remember

amid the office buildings and high-class hotels. Rigo picked a lot with an attendant who looked reputable and pulled his car into it. He paid in advance and walked back along San Pedro Street.
    The Downtown Mission was a well-kept, modern-looking building. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he went inside, but if Carol could do it, he could. What he did see startled him—a mother with a young boy and girl. He hadn’t expected to find children here. Feeling sick, he turned away and spoke to a nicely dressed woman.
    “I’m looking for Carol Golden. She may have just arrived.”
    “What does she look like?”
    “She’s young, pretty, with dark hair. It’s short. She has recent scars on her head and face.”
    “Oh.” Her look softened. “Let me check the new arrivals. What’s your name?”
    “Rigo. I’m a friend of hers.”
    “Where did you park, Rigo?”
    “In a lot down the street.”
    “Next time you come, park in our lot underneath the building.”
    She went off to find Carol. Underground parking. Rigo was shocked at how large an operation this was. Homelessness was big business. In a short time, Carol came around a corner, wearing jeans and a top that were too big for her. She looked at him with surprise on her face.
    Rigo felt nervous. This place didn’t feel real to him. “Hi. I went to the hospital but you were already gone.”
    “They checked me out early and had somebody drive me here. You came all the way here to see me?”
    “It wasn’t that far. Is there somewhere we can talk?”
    They went into a waiting room and sat on hard chairs. Rigo was trying to figure out what to say. “What will happen to you here?”
    “In the short run, they’ll give me food and a place to stay. And counseling, although I’m not sure what good that will do. They’ll also look after my immortal soul, although at the moment, my body needs more help than my soul. In the long run…I don’t know what will happen to me.”
    That was the opening Rigo needed. “I was talking about you to my parents last night. They want to help you.” He had actually talked to his mother briefly this morning.
    “That’s very nice of them.”
    “They want you to come and live with us until you get your feet on the ground.” It was easier for him to talk as if it were their idea.
    “Rigo…I don’t know what to say. That’s a very generous offer. You don’t have to…I’ll be fine.”
    He doubted she’d be fine. He forced himself to grin. “Maybe I do have to. They say that after you…help somebody, you’re responsible for them.”
    “You saved my life. I don’t want you to feel you’re responsible for me. That’s not fair. You’re very sweet. I don’t want to impose on you—and your parents.”
    He did feel responsible for her. He couldn’t bear the thought she might just disappear. “I want to make sure you’re safe. I don’t like the thought of you here—or worse. This isn’t a good place for a young woman.”
    “This isn’t a good place for anybody, especially children. And yet they’re here.” She appeared to be thinking. “You must have wonderful parents.”
    “You can come with me now.”
    “They’ll give me clothes here. At the hospital I was given a toothbrush and the clothes I’m wearing, which don’t fit. I don’t even have my own pair of knickers.”
    Rigo wondered what knickers were. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll help you get clothes. I know somebody who can help find out who you are. She’s good at finding people. She’s a friend of the family.”
    Carol perked up. “I trust you, Rigo. I trust you more than anybody I know—which isn’t saying much right now. If you’re serious, I’m ready to go.”
    “Good.” He got to his feet. “Shouldn’t you tell someone you’re leaving?”
    “I will. They’ll be glad I have a place where I can go. One less mouth to feed.” She laughed. Then she became sober. “When I get on my feet, I’m going to come back here and help them. They need all the help they can get—just like I do right now.”
    ***
    Carol showed a lively interest in her surroundings during the drive south on the Harbor Freeway, west on Pacific Coast Highway, and then up the hill into Palos Verdes on Crenshaw Boulevard and several other streets. When they turned onto Hawthorne Boulevard, she recognized the name from the newspaper stories about her.
    “Are we close to the restaurant where you found me?”
    “It’s at the end of Hawthorne, all the