They say good-bye to the Cardenas family, knowing they put them in harm’s way just by showing up at their house. They’re tainted now, Sara thinks, contaminated by the virus of violence that she carries. She is so, so grateful to them. They all are.
“I need a favor from you,” Sara whispers to Joel when it is her turn to hug him.
“Tell me.”
“Go see Mr. and Mrs. Fuentes. They shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
“All right.”
“And … if Linda … is alive, will you watch over her?”
He hugs her again, and Sara knows he understands what she is asking.
Emiliano climbs into the backseat of Estela Gómez’s SUV, next to his mother. Sara is sitting up front. Estela asks all of them, “Do you have any cell phones?” Emiliano and Sara give her their cell phones and she drops them in a small bag made from a metallic weave. “We can’t take the chance of someone tracking you through the GPS in your phones.” Then she opens the glove compartment and takes out a plastic bag with a flip phone and a charger. “You can use this to call me and make the calls you absolutely need to make. Don’t tell anyone where you are.”
“I have another cell phone in my backpack,” Sara says. “Did Agent Durand tell you about it? Should I give that to you too?”
“Alejandro told me,” Estela responds. She takes another metallic bag from the console next to her seat. “Put it in here and keep it there. It’s better if you hold on to that phone.” Sara tugs an envelope out of her backpack. She pulls a cell phone out of the envelope by its edges and places it in the bag.
The safe house is across town near the Benito Juárez Olympic Stadium. The first time Emiliano saw the stadium, he was six years old, when his father took him to watch an exhibition game between América and Cruz Azul. After that game, his father began to teach him soccer skills. Every day they practiced ball control, kicking, passing. His father set up Coke bottles a short distance apart from one another and Emiliano dribbled around them. He closes his eyes when he sees the stadium. He doesn’t want these memories in the midst of everything else going on.
Estela parks the SUV in front of a two-story upholstery shop. On one side of the building is a garage door. She pushes a remote control on the sun visor and the door rolls up. She drives the SUV in and closes the door behind her. Steps at the back of the loading dock lead to a second floor.
“Mr. Otero and his family run the upholstery shop,” Estela Gómez explains as she helps Mami up the stairs. “You can trust them completely. One of his sons was a policeman who was killed by the Sinaloan cartel. He lets us use the apartment. He’ll get you anything you need.”
The apartment is a one-floor loft with a bathroom. In one corner of the room is a sink, stove, refrigerator, and pantry. Two sets of bunk beds line another wall. A sofa and two easy chairs stand in the middle of the room.
“Thank you,” Mami says to Estela. “You’re very kind.”
“I wouldn’t recommend going out, but if you do, wait until Mr. Otero opens his shop and walk out the front door as if you were a customer. What are your plans?”
Emiliano walks over to the window and peeks through the blinds.
“I have a sister in León. We’ll be going there,” Mami says.
“I suggest you do it soon. Day after tomorrow at the latest. The people who are after you are relentless, and not even this place is safe for more than a day or two.”
“So … do you know if something will be done about the house where Linda …”
Sara’s voice sounds different to Emiliano—older, somehow. He can only imagine everything that’s gone through her mind today.
“Yes, the house is being watched right now. Something will be done. You have my word,” Estela says.
“Is there a place where I can send an e-mail?” Sara asks.
Emiliano listens closely. He too needs a place to communicate with Perla Rubi, Brother Patricio, Armando.
“There’s a café near the stadium a few blocks from here. Café Rojos. They have terminals. Tell Daniel, the owner, that I sent you. He’ll take care of you.”
“Thank you,” Sara says.
“We’re indebted to you, Sara. What you’re doing takes a lot of courage. Be careful now.”
Sara watches Estela walk out the door.
“The only place we get a signal is over here by the kitchen window,” Emiliano says, holding the cell phone Estela gave them.
“Is it okay if I take one of the lower bunks? I hate heights,” Sara says.
“Okay,” Emiliano responds, barely hearing her. What is he going to tell Armando? He’ll say he’s going to León with his mother and sister and will find a way to come back.
“Are you tired, Mami? Let’s get some sleep.” Sara takes Mami to the sofa and sits her down.
“I want to talk to you two. Emiliano, please come here.”
Emiliano sits on the chair in front of Sara and his mother. Mami clears her throat and straightens herself up. She digs her rosary out of her purse and holds it tight in her hands.
Emiliano and Sara look at each other. They recognize the signs, the solemn look. Mami’s about to tell them something so difficult for her that she needs God’s help to say it.
“I have thought about what I am going to say since long before all of this business with the threat. I had always thought this was best, but could not bring myself to do it.” Mami speaks with calm and conviction, fixing her eyes first on Sara and then on Emiliano. “I told you back at Carmela’s house that we were going to León, but that is not what we’re going to do.” She takes a deep breath. Emiliano tenses. “I am going to León alone. You two are going to your father in the United States.”
“What?” Emiliano jumps out of the chair.
“We’re not going to leave you,” Sara objects.
Mami motions for Emiliano to sit down and then waits until he does. “I lied to you. I’m sorry. I didn’t call Tencha. I called your father. He has an extra room in his basement. You can live with him until you get a place of your own.”
Emiliano feels his face burn. He does all he can not to blow up, but he knows that his efforts at containing himself are not going to work for much longer. Sara looks at him and speaks quickly, as if to divert the explosion that’s about to take place. “But, Mami, how are we going to get there?”
“It doesn’t matter! No! I’m not going to live with that man!” Emiliano shouts. It’s the first time he has ever used a defiant tone with Mami.
Mami smiles at him, a loving smile, as if she knows and even sympathizes with the emotion behind his outburst. She speaks softly to him. “I want you to find someone trustworthy who will take you across the border. We’ll pull all our money together so we can pay someone. Ask Brother Patricio to help you. He knows a lot of people. Roberto will drive down from Chicago and meet you when you’re safely in the United States.”
“Mami, he left us! He doesn’t want us! He said no to us. He rejected us. Am I the only one here who understands that? No. I can’t go live with someone who hurt you—us. Don’t ask me to do that.”
“I’m not asking you.” There is no anger in Mami’s words.
Emiliano can feel two powerful forces fighting inside him: his love and unquestioning obedience to his mother and the resentment he feels toward his father. Maybe three forces, when you count his anger at losing all that he loves in Juárez. He sees Sara shaking her head at him and pleading with her eyes not to lose it completely, not to say or do anything that he will regret later. But the idea of living with the man who broke his promise is too much to bear. “This is not the right solution to this mess. What am I going to do in the United States?” He remembers the soccer game, the chants. “They think we’re all ignorant, rapists, narcos. This is my home. Here.” Emiliano stands, realizes there’s no place to go. Sits down again. Mami and Sara seem to be waiting for him to get it all out. But there are no more words coming out of him, only something hot traveling from his stomach to his throat.
Wha
t Sara says next, Emiliano knows is for his benefit. “We can’t leave you, Mami. We’re a family. What will you do in León all alone? And even if we make it to Chicago, it will be impossible to see you for a long time. We’ll go to León with you.”
“I will be all right with Tencha. But León is not the right place for either of you.” She pauses, lowers her eyes. “Your father … he’s made a good, safe life in America. It will be a good place for you. He’s been asking for you to visit for a long time.”
“It’s not right for you to be alone,” Sara insists. “We’ll be safe in Léon.”
“It’s not just about being safe. Sara, you won’t be able to do the work you love to do in León. The minute you write something in a newspaper, the people who are trying to kill you will come after you. And Emiliano, son, here in Mexico it is too hard for you to be the person God wants you to be.”
Emiliano sits on the edge of the sofa, looking at his feet, shaking his head. Then he stands up and looks around the room. He wants to bolt out of there. Take off running through the streets. But there is no escape. Sara stands and tries to put her arm around him, but he shakes it off. “You can’t do this to me,” he says to Mami, pleading.
Mami looks at him steadily. Her eyes are full of silent love, but there is also an unshakeable strength in them.
Emiliano starts to say something and then stops. He turns and walks out the door.
Sara finds Emiliano at the bottom of the stairs, sitting on an old couch. She sits next to him and waits silently for him to cool off. Mami’s decision that they should go to Chicago surprised her until she understood her mother’s reasoning. She loves reporting, and it would be very hard for her to continue to be a reporter in Mexico. And Emiliano, if he ever stops hating Papá, would eventually thrive in the United States. She tries to imagine what life would be like in Chicago. Living with their father and his new family will be uncomfortable but bearable. She’ll find a job and eventually get a place for Emiliano and herself. Sara has always been optimistic, and as she thinks about the idea, it becomes more and more the best solution. What’s painful for her is what they’re leaving behind. Mami and her job have been her life these past few years; Mexico is in her blood, part of her, where she belongs. But perhaps she can belong in the United States as well.
Sara doesn’t know how long they stay on that ratty couch with its insides spilling out. Emiliano’s eyes stare straight ahead, his jaw clenched, his hands in fists. She keeps thinking about Estela Gómez’s answer when she asked about Linda. Something will be done. You have my word. It gives her comfort to repeat those words, to hope with all her soul that Linda is still alive. But she knows Emiliano does not have that kind of life-giving hope—a meaning that makes the sacrifice worth it. If only there was a way to see the trip to the United States as an adventure. Maybe it can be an adventure that requires all of his Jipari skills. The male ego. Challenge the male ego, she thinks. It never fails.
She waits patiently for the right opening. There’s got to be a way to reach the Jipari in Emiliano, her fearless little brother who loves challenges. When at last he breathes out a long, pent-up breath, Sara says: “Maybe we can convince Mami about the dangers in crossing over to the U.S. I don’t think she knows how expensive it is to pay a coyote to take us across or how dangerous that is. I mean, so many people die at the hands of the coyotes. Maybe we could make it across the river without one, but through the desert? I don’t think she realizes the impossibility.”
“It can be done,” Emiliano says.
She makes an effort not to smile. “Where? Arizona?”
“Texas.”
“Really?”
“There’s places.”
“But how?” she says. “The Border Patrol is everywhere. How many days would we have to walk before we can get to a place where Papá can come get us?”
“Two, three days.”
“Three days! What about water? It must be one hundred degrees out there even now.”
“Stop it,” he says. “I know what you’re trying to do. I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”
Sara laughs, and he smiles despite himself. “You know, little brother, I’ve never once in my whole life thought you were stupid,” she says. He acts as if he doesn’t hear her, so she quickly adds, “Do you really think your Jipari training is good enough to get us across?”
“Yeah, I can get us across … if I wanted to.”
Sara nods thoughtfully. Her strategy is working. “Look, for me, the U.S. means a future I could get used to eventually, maybe, if I can learn to live away from the dirt and crime and packed buses full of sweaty, groping men—you know, all the things I love about Mexico.” She checks to see if she’s elicited a smile, but she hasn’t. “For you, I know, it would be leaving a future you love. You don’t know how sorry I am that you’re so affected by something I did. But here we are.”
“You did the right thing. You had to do what you could to save Linda.”
The way he says this, as if he would have done the same thing, makes her happy. “I have a solution. To you not wanting to go.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Take me across. Once I’m safe with Papá, you can come back. If you can travel north, you should be able to travel south.”
He looks into her eyes for a few moments. “And you really think Mami will go for that?”
“After I got my first death threat—you know, for the article about the joint task force—I said something to Mami about how I wished I was a journalist in the U.S., where I wouldn’t have to worry about what I wrote. Later that night, when we were watching TV, she said out of nowhere that if I wanted to, she could contact Papá. I could go live with him.”
“She said that?”
“I know, right? I couldn’t believe it either. Can you imagine what it took for her to suggest that?”
“She actually thought our dear father would take you?”
“He’s always wanted us to come. Besides, you don’t know Mami if you think she’d give him a choice.”
Emiliano chuckles. “You lost me. What does all this have to do with me coming back?”
“The only reason she wants you to go to the U.S. is because she believes in your abilities to get me there.” Sara knows that’s only partially true. Mami wouldn’t have said something about Emiliano becoming the person God wanted him to be if she didn’t have a good reason for it. “If you come back in a couple of weeks and tell her I’m safely on my way to Chicago, I think she’ll be okay … eventually.”
“And I would live with her and Aunt Tencha in León?”
“Isn’t Aunt Tencha better than living with Papá?”
“Any place is better than that,” Emiliano says without missing a beat.
“After you live in León for a while, maybe Brother Patricio can find you a place to live here like he’s done for other kids. Or you can live with Paco. I think Mami would be okay with you returning to Juárez if you’re back in school and living in a decent place. She may not say so right away, but deep inside she’ll be happy that she’ll have you close enough to visit. If we’re both in the U.S., she won’t see us for a long, long time.”
“If ever.”
Those two words stop Sara cold. She hadn’t yet processed the fact that she might not see Mami again, maybe ever. Should she fight Mami and insist on going to León with her? What will life be without her? And what about the loss Mami would feel? Maybe she should go back and tell Mami there’s no way she will leave her.
Then Emiliano speaks. “Mami’s right. At least about you. León, or any place in Mexico, is not the place for you. These guys who are after you will eventually find you, and you’ll never be able to be a reporter. I’ll get you across.”
“And you’ll come back?”
“Yeah. I’ll come back.”
“But maybe Mami is also right about you, about you not being able to be the person God wants you to be here in Mexico.”
Sara expects him to dismiss this idea i
mmediately, but instead he seems to reflect deeply on it. Finally, he says, “A person is not meant to be anyone. Each person chooses who they want to be.”
“I think we are all meant to be the best person we are capable of being. You’re right that we need to choose to be that person. But sometimes, circumstances make it hard for us to make the right choice,” Sara says. “Do you really want to be the sort of person who hides expensive cars in the neighbors’ backyard and brings home fancy scooters? Is that who you want to be?”
He glares at her briefly and then looks away. “We’ll have to lie to her. She can’t know that I’m planning to come back.”
This is such an unusual thing for Emiliano to say that Sara is struck silent. There’s something like fatigue and maybe even self-disgust in his tone, as if he’s been lying already and now has to pile one more on top of the stinking bunch. But she has to admit he’s right: It would not work to tell Mami the truth. She would never agree to his return. Her comfort, if there is any comfort in losing her children, lies in the fact that Sara and Emiliano will be together. Sara makes a mental note to think more about his attitude later.
“Okay,” she says. “Let’s get some sleep.”
Emiliano, on the top bunk, is unable to sleep. He can hear Sara tossing and turning in the bed below, and now and then he hears a deep sigh coming from his mother. The whole family is awake. What are his mother and Sara thinking about? His mother got very nervous and worried when Sara told her they would cross the border by themselves without the help of a coyote. She calmed down a little when Emiliano explained he had a plan that was a lot safer than putting their lives in the hands of a stranger. His mother did not want to show sadness, but he could tell she was already feeling what it will be like to be separated from her daughter and son. He knows they are her life. How can she be so willing to let them go? And Sara—surely Sara is awake because she’s hoping that Linda will be found alive, wishing she could be there when she comes home.
Emiliano tries to order his thoughts, but they keep jumping around. He will take Sara across the border. What will he say to Perla Rubi? In a few hours he will call Brother Patricio and together they will start planning the journey. He’ll get Sara across and return. Thank goodness he had enough sense to grab his Jipari backpack. He’s got his compass, knife, first aid kit, sunglasses, hat, flashlight, lighter, and other desert survival tools. He remembered to get his boots. That was fortunate. Brother Patricio will get the other things they’ll need to make the trip: hiking shoes for Sara, two-gallon water bags, and, of course, maps. Sara’s shoes have to be a perfect fit, otherwise she’ll get blisters. There won’t be any time to break them in slowly.