Jose opened his eyes. The moon was as big as he had ever
seen and the sun was starting to show itself. His left arm was asleep as he sat
up and his legs felt too tense and sore to stand. Dust was littered throughout
his hair and flung out as he rubbed. The stars were on their last leg. Oh, what
he would give to be able to walk to them. He’d jump from one to the other
making his way to the smiling moon like in the America cartoons. The moon would
comfort him and make him forget about his sore legs. It would remind him of his
home back to the south.
The last day there had been hot and
smoggy. His uncle had told him how sore he would be. He told him it would be
nothing compared to a day in the fields. Sweet would eek its way into crevices
of the body he didn’t even know he had, his uncle had said. Jose’s hands would
be scared from the veins and dry from the swirling sands and rocky soil. It
sounded horrible now but, at the time, his uncle had convinced him otherwise.
Away from the congestion of where Jose
lived in Mexico City his uncle owned a plot of land with an adobe house, goats,
cows and pigs. His grandkids, Jose’s cousins, played in the plot with a futbol.
They pretended to be Pele, Messi, or one of the Ronaldos. Through the smoke
from his pipe and over the laughter of the children, Jose’s uncle told him
about his journey north.
It had been fifteen years, many
seasons, bus rides back and forth, envelops home, sleepless nights and hundreds
of hours baking under the sun before the chair and the pipe. Now, it was all
worth it, his uncle had said. His uncle had found pain in America. With pain in
America came richness in Mexico.
“You are young, my nephew. This is
when you do this.”
The voice had played in his head
the next morning. Nothing had ever seemed so right to Jose and it all made
sense; everyone would support him. His girlfriend knew it was the order of
things. His mother would be thankful for the extra money and his younger
brothers would be thankful for the nights he’d come home on the bus with tales
of America. Their eyes would light up and they would not sleep for hours. The
tall buildings, the food, the lights would keep them dragging at Jose’s pants
as he left for another trip. Whether or not that first trip back home would be
with Dominic and Escobar, he did not know.
Dominic had been across many times.
He was ten years older and had told Jose the stories of America during hot
summer days of soccer and cola. Dominic had embraced Jose and gotten a nice
bottle of tequila when he heard Jose would be joining him. He said the journey
was better with more people and he would not be lonely this time around.
Dominic joked he would miss talking to himself. Jose did not know Escobar but
he was young. Dominic had said he had done the journey many times and would be
a good man.
Both Dominic and Escobar snored as
the sun came up. It wasn’t as beautiful without the smog but he could see more
because there were no buildings. The fire from last night smoldered and his
jacket smelled like ashes. A howl came from the distance and Jose saw a skinny
coyote scampering off. Its ribs shown and it had been a tough summer for the
animal. Jose felt his ribs to make sure he wasn’t like the coyote. He had been
feeling weaker but the fat there reassured him.
More refried beans would keep him
honest. He had rarely eaten breakfast back home but here he needed to pass the
time. Besides, the beans gave him energy for the day. Before Dominic and
Escobar woke up he would always get his full and they let him because he was
smaller than them. Dominic rolled over to face him as he ate the beans;
stretching his arms out of the sleeping bag.
“Why are you up, brother?” Dominic
asked.
“I was too sore to sleep.”
“Soon you’ll be proud of the
soreness. You’ll respect nights under the stars and in the cool air. You’ll
respect it when you don’t have to move and you can just lay.”
“I’ve always needed to move.”
“Soon you will need to rest.”
“I rested enough. Besides, I wanted
to see the sunrise.”
“The smog makes it prettier in
Mexico,” Dominic said.
“You are right.”
“I do not miss it, though.”
“Yes. I probably miss it more than
you, though,” Jose said.
“It is your first trip so it is
only natural.”
“Puntas! Let me sleep,” Escobar
yelled.
“No, no Escobar. It is cool now and
we need to walk.”
“Ahhh….but they never patrol here.”
“The last time I came they weren’t
here. The time before we hid from the helicopter and that time before the cars
came and took us back to Mexico. We’re due,” Dominic said.
“Since we’re due we should just
sleep,” Escobar said; turning to face them.
“Sleep will
be far away once the sun begins to bake your neck. That is the truth. I only
said the patrol would come to scare you and make you get up.”
“You should know nothing scars me,
Dominic,” Escobar said.
“It will be cooler,” Jose said.
“You’re lucky I am a man of the
majority,” Escobar said.
The beans were sticky and cold. The
jerky was dry and rough on the teeth but was easy to swallow with the cool
water from the evening. The beans would have been better heated but the time
was not right for a fire. Enough warmth came from the sun and Jose already
found himself sweating. He felt tired immediately after eating and missed his
coffee. He would have even gone with the grounds at the bottom of the cup. The
sun brought enough energy for his first steps forward but nothing like what
coffee used to do for him in the early mornings laying bricks. It was better,
though, because Jose had time to pay attention to the sun rise.
He noticed when the orange had gone
and his neck felt the first hints of a cool breeze bringing far distant clouds
from the west over to meet the sun. Jose hoped for cover throughout the
afternoon. Until then they would wrap bandannas around their necks to dim the
burn.
“Why haven’t we seen snakes yet?”
Jose asked.
“They only come out when it’s cold.
Maybe tonight one will slither by you. Hisssss….,” Escobar said.
“It gives me the chills. I’ve never
liked their skin,” Jose said.
“One time I saw one curled up five
feet away from me in the desert. Its tail was shaking back and forth and I had
to move slowly so I didn’t startle it. Its slanted eyes disturbed me more and I
was scared. I was even more scared than when the helicopter came,” Dominic
said.
“Helicopters do not care about
weather. They will come whenever,” Jose said.
The desert rolled for miles and
Jose saw rabbits ducking in and out of the dying bushes and behind the tall
cactuses. Jose’s pants rubbed against the low hanging branches of mesquite
trees and his nose and hands dried up. He wanted to lick his hands but had
tried that yesterday and knew it would only lead to more cracks.
Escobar took the lead and made sure
not to hit any of the plants. Jose noticed a glint of silver from his butt and
he thought back to the cartel back home. The men who hung around the café he
cleaned at and who stared at his girlfriend every time she came by to say
hello. When he had stared at them they had lifted their shirts and the same
glint of silver had come out. It was the only time he had seen a gun. It was
the only time he ever looked at them, as well.
Jose looked at Dominic and saw he
was in another world. Maybe Escobar had it for snakes, Jose thought. The road
was going to be tough and bring many challenges. If they starved or got off
track they needed a way to find food. Dominic had said Escobar was a seasoned
border traveler.
“There is water up here,” Escobar
said.
“Who left it there?” Jose asked.
“Some Americans who like us,”
Dominic said.
Jose filled his bottle up, drank
half, and then filled again. You could
never have enough water, his uncle had said. Some did not plan ahead and that
was what led to their defeat in the desert. They had seen empty bottles next to
trees along the way. Dominic had proclaimed these past travelers idiots for
leaving bottles. Jose did not plan on being one of these idiots.
“This water is warm but thank god
for Americans,” Dominic said.
“Yes. Why do some want us and
others don’t want anything to do with us?” Jose asked.
“Because they can choose either
way,” Escobar said.
“Cartels don’t rule there?”
“Only in different ways,” Escobar
said.
“As long as you don’t bother them
you will get by,” Dominic said.
“Ya just keep telling yourself
that,” Escobar said.
Jose started walking and drinking
more. He wanted to get in front of Escobar so he would not see the glint of
silver. It had made him uneasy when he had seen it.
Jose thought he heard Escobar talking about him from behind.
Escobar spoke a quicker, more southern dialect than he was used to and Jose did
not sometimes catch all of it. Jose did not look back and kept to himself in
case Escobar was talking about him. He had to make it across in one piece and
thought it would be stupid to come all this way only to be beat up and killed
by one of your traveling companions.
Jose walked more and heard the sounds of desert. He had almost escaped
and gotten away from his thoughts when he heard the rumbles.
Clouds of dust in front of Jose
moved closer and closer. He knew they came from cars but he could not see them.
As the dust came closer he saw the green and white cars and heard the low hum
of the engine. They were quieter and larger than the diesels back home that
would wake up his neighborhood in the morning. He had ridden those cars many
times out for weekend work and these cars were not like them; they were big and
silent.
Just when he thought the engines
would whine and speed toward them the cars stopped. A hundred yards away the
dust swooshed in front of them and Jose heard the banging of doors. He ducked behind the bush in front of him
before he could think more about it. Jose looked to his left and right to see
Dominic and Escobar doing the same. He tucked his legs and felt sweat tripping
down his brow. Dominic was sweating as well and holding a finger up to his
month. Escobar looked at Jose and struck a small grin. Both of them were
flipped around and looking at the cars. Jose followed suit.
The dust was gone and two green
uniforms were starting to walk around and away from the cars. One was taller
and the other shorter. They both had hats on and the distance made it tough to
see their eyes. They walked casually and Jose did not know if they had any
guns. Jose saw Escobar getting up into a lunge to catch a better glimpse.
Escobar looked more comfortable there but Jose did not want to try because he
knew he would slip.
Jose began to hear gibberish that
he assumed was the American language. He noticed the shorter one was brown like
him and the taller one was white. Jose looked down and saw a puddle of sweat in
the brown dirt. Escobar’s back lag was twitching and Dominic was as still as a
statue.
“HELLO! WELCOME TO AMERICA!” the
Spanish words rang from one of the green uniforms.
Jose couldn’t tell where it came
from but assumed the shorter one had said it. They were laughing as they walked
closer to them. This laughter did not sooth Jose as laughter usually did.
More gibberish hit his ears and he
could feel them very close now. Jose did not want to look at Escobar because it
would only disturb him more so he looked at Dominic. Dominic looked more
resolved and nodded his head toward Jose while smiling.
Jose looked back where they had
come from. Light grey clouds traveled across the horizon teasing the plants
calling for rain. Jose saw another skittish coyote trotting toward them. The
desert had been harsh on him but he was still trotting around. Jose felt a breeze
against his face and saw the mesquites struggling to sway. Those plants never
went away and Jose imagined their roots were long in this desert.
BANG! BANG!
Jose swung
his neck toward the sounds and saw Escobar crouched with the glint of silver in
his hands.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Escobar’s arms swung down and his
body moved back and forward with each bang. Little puffs of smoke jumped up
from his chest and his arms swung back and forth. It wasn’t till a little after
the last bang that Escobar fell over and his blood flowed on the rough, tan
sand.
The last bang reverberated in
Jose’s ears and his eyes became finely tuned into the eyes of Escobar. Wide
open, still, green, and hanging on to the last light of life. His month was not
grinning as it had been the whole trip. Instead his lips were flat and normal
and dull purple. He saw the blood settling under his face and smearing one end
of lips.
“COME OUT NOW! HANDS UP!”
Jose was sweating and saw through
the glistening drops that Dominic was standing up with his arms shaking.
Jose moved slow. His whole body
twitched and his vision glazed over. He saw the men in uniforms moving their
lips but he heard no talking. He didn’t hear anything until he felt the crushing
of his nose, the dirt in his eyes and a foot on his lower back. After the foot
his vision came back with the sensation of pain and he heard the yelling of the
green uniform he figured was on top of him now. He saw Escobar again. This time
his eyes were rolled back and as white as pearls. His blood was dark and thick;
a red Jose had never seen. It was like thick, dark batter with a sprinkling of
desert dirt in it.
Jose was pulled up quick and he
only had his memories of Escobar now. He looked down and saw blood drops. He
figured it came from his nose but could not find out now. They walked back to
the cars and Dominic was slammed up against the car with him. The taller green
uniform picked up a black box and started talking into it. Jose tried to look
at Dominic but his head was down and he could not feel Jose’s eyes.
“Did you know this man?” the short
one asked in Spanish.
Dominic stared up at this and
nodded his head to the man.
“My friend did not. I only knew him
as a traveler,” Dominic said.
The short one stared at them both
for awhile, smiled, and then took their bags from them. Jose noticed he had
Escobar’s already.
He dumped everything onto the
ground but made sure to make piles for them. He saved Escobar’s for last and
threw out two bricks. Jose had seen these bricks before coming out of trucks in
the neighborhood, on the back of motorcycles, and in dark alleys when you
wanted to make sure no one saw you looking. Jose knew the reward that came with
carrying them across the border but also knew the danger.
“You didn’t know he was carrying
these?” the short one asked.
“No. We’re just trying to get
across,” Dominic said.
The man kept his glasses on and
shoved the bricks back into the bag. He lifted his head and stared at Jose for
a good while. Jose did not look up but felt the man’s eyes prying on him. From
then on, Dominic and Jose both looked down and there was no more talk.
More vehicles came, dust settled
and Dominic and Jose sat on the ground. People
walked through, around and in some cases over them. All of these people moved
their lips after hitting them and Jose thought they were apologizing. Jose saw
a large black sack put into a red and white van that had been very nosy when it
had come up. It reminded him of the late hours before the sun came up back home.
If you were in the right part of Mexico City you didn’t even need a roster or
alarm clock because you had the sirens.
Other green uniforms looked at them
and made them stand up to take a picture, turn and take another and turn and
take one last one. The two that had caught them talked to many people and
received many pats on the back. Jose tried to talk to Dominic but could never
find any words. Eventually they were loaded into the back of a truck with only
their thoughts and themselves to occupy them.
“What happens now?” Jose finally
asked.
Dominic taped his hat a couple of
times and looked straight ahead, He didn’t smile or nod. He was thinking of a
time in the future.
“We try
again.”
