A Journey

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.”