“Puta.” The voice was gruff and cold as it reached my ears. The word stung, causing me to pause, but I knew it was better not to add fuel to the flame.

I continued to walk; however, as I turned to speak to Griggs, he was no longer behind me. He was standing nose to nose with a dirty-faced gaucho with six men around him. Griggs had only our three sailors for support. I rushed over to them.

“Where I come from, we don’t speak to ladies that way,” Griggs hissed through clenched teeth.

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Well then, maybe you should go back to where you came from, norte-americano. Here we call a whore a whore.”

“Enough!” I yelled, stepping into the middle. “We don’t need this.” I pulled Griggs’s arm. “Come on.” He let me pull but stayed put.

“Go on, norte-americano, let the puta give you orders.” The men around him laughed. “I guess that’s how they do things where you come from.”

Without warning Griggs head-butted the man, instantly dropping him to his knees. The sailors pulled out their pistols, ready for a fight. I pushed Griggs in the chest with all my weight. He relented, backing up slowly.

One of our sailors laughed. “Take care of your comrade.”

“She’s still a puta!” one of the dirty gauchos called out as he lifted his friend off the ground.

One of our sailors, a large freed slave, grabbed his genitals. “I’ll show you a whore!” He threw his head back in a fierce laugh, revealing a set of large, rotten teeth as the gauchos looked disgusted. “All your wives already know me,” he taunted. They dragged their friend away, clearly not wanting any more trouble.

“What did you think you were doing?” I yelled, rounding on the men like a schoolmistress.

“Defending your honor.” Griggs looked stricken.

“Oh, is that what that was?” I poked a finger in his chest. “When I need help defending my honor, I will be sure to call you. Fighting with a bunch of worthless drunks is not defending my honor.” I turned, storming away down the street.

“North or South America, they’re all alike,” I heard Griggs mumble from somewhere behind me.

* * *

José returned to Laguna two weeks later. Griggs and I proudly lined up the twenty extra boats and the dozens of crates of goods and ammunition that we had scavenged. José clapped my shoulder like I was one of his sailors. “You have done an admirable job.”

José’s smile was different; the corners of his mouth weren’t lifted. Something was wrong. He drifted away toward the ship. I looked to Griggs, who reflected my concern. I followed José onto the ship and into our cabin. “Talk to me.”

“There is nothing to say.” He got up to move past me to the door, but I stopped him.

“José, we don’t lie to each other, remember? Tell me what happened.”

He stood there for a moment. Twice he opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words to say. He turned from me, bending his head down, taking in two deep breaths. When he finally was able to speak, his voice came out hoarse and tense. “Canabarro had us pick up fifty extra recruits. Fresh…” He trailed off, looking beyond me, looking at the ghosts that passed across his vision. “My God, the destruction.” He sighed. “We got to the town and they were like animals.”