Disappeared

by Francisco X. Stork

  She writes the e-mail address that he gives her on the white envelope with the phone.

  “Bye, Sara. Be safe. Don’t use your cell phone anymore. They can track your calls.” He hangs up.

  Sara stands there, the phone dangling in her hand.

  “Sara, what is it? Speak. What’s the matter?” Mami’s face reflects the panic Sara feels.

  “We need to get out of the house,” Sara says. “The people who threatened me are on their way. Go put your shoes on! Grab your purse!”

  “But where are we going?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll go out the back door.”

  Mami shuffles away as fast as she can while Sara puts on her sneakers. She runs to Emiliano’s room. He’s lying on the floor in total darkness. He looks up, shielding his eyes, when she turns on the light.

  “We have to get out of the house! I just got word that the people who threatened me are on their way here.”

  “What? Are you sure?” He jumps to his feet.

  “Yes. Put your shoes on. We can go to the Cardenases’.”

  “We’ll go the back way. How much time do we have?”

  “None.”

  “Joel’s house is too far for Mami to walk fast. You two can ride in my trailer. It’s already hitched to the scooter.”

  Before she can say anything, Emiliano is out the back door. Sara goes back to her room, grabs the envelope with the cell phone, and puts it in her backpack. At the back door, she and Mami look dubiously at the trailer attached to the back of the Vespa.

  “It’s the only way,” Emiliano says. “If we walk, we might run into them.”

  “Maybe we can just go next door to Mrs. Lozano,” Mami suggests.

  “It’s too close. They might look there when they don’t find us home. Come on, we’ll go out through the alley.”

  Emiliano holds the trailer while Mami and Sara climb in. They sit on some old cushions that Emiliano has thrown in there. He pushes the Vespa and the trailer out the back, into the unpaved alleyway. Then he climbs on, starts the scooter, and pulls out.

  They hear the crack crack crack of automatic weapons just as they reach the Cardenases’ house.

  Paco opens the door after Emiliano’s second knock. His face lights up when he sees Emiliano and then darkens when he sees Sara and Mami behind him. Emiliano grabs his arm and pulls him outside before Paco can speak. In the distance they hear what sounds like harmless firecrackers.

  “They’re shooting up our house,” Emiliano says. “We need to stay with you.”

  Paco steps to the side and holds the door open for Sara and his mother. Mr. Cardenas and Joel are sitting on a quilt-covered sofa, watching TV. Mrs. Cardenas appears from a back room, wearing a pink bathrobe.

  “My God, what happened?” Mrs. Cardenas rushes to hug Mami, who is trembling.

  “I’m going to put the scooter in the backyard,” Emiliano tells the group.

  “I’ll go with you,” Paco says.

  Emiliano can feel his arms and legs shake as he leads the Vespa and trailer around Mrs. Cardenas’s gardens.

  “A Vespa now? What are you doing? Is this shooting related to the Mercedes you parked here the other night?” Paco opens the gate to the backyard. “Are you going to tell me or what?”

  “It’s about Sara. Her job at El Sol. They want to kill her because she found out where they’re holding Linda.”

  “Linda Fuentes. Your first love? Should have been your only one, if you had any sense.”

  Emiliano shoots Paco a look.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t help myself. That’s terrible about Sara.” They listen. The shooting has stopped. “They spray the house with a million bullets before they go in. That’s what they did at that party where they killed all those kids. Remember?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It turned out they had the wrong address.”

  Emiliano shakes his head. “I should go back, see who it is. Get their license plate.”

  “You crazy?”

  “I can hide. They won’t see me.”

  “Don’t be stupid. Think of your mom and sister. You’re safe here. You can stay as long as you want.”

  “I’m going to go.” Some kind of scalding liquid that obliterates all thought fills his head. He starts toward the street, but Paco holds him, putting his strong arms around Emiliano’s shoulders.

  “Easy, boy, easy. We’ll go when it’s safe, I promise you. Joel will take us. We’ll park at the corner and then drive by, make sure nobody’s there. What good will it do to get their license plate? Who’s going to go after them? The police?”

  Emiliano feels the heat inside his head slowly subside. Once there’s some space for thought, Paco’s words find their way in. He nods.

  “What about the Vespa?”

  “It’s nothing. It’s a loan.”

  “A loan.” Paco shakes his head. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Whatever it is I was doing doesn’t matter now,” Emiliano says.

  “It’s all about Perla Rubi, isn’t it?”

  “Let it go. Now’s not the time to give me crap.”

  “Okay. Come on, let’s go inside.”

  Back in the house, Sara tells the Cardenases a very condensed version of events. Emiliano notices that she leaves out all the particulars related to the cell phone in the white envelope. Paco goes to the kitchen and brings in two chairs. Emiliano looks out the door for a few moments. He sits only after Paco tugs his arm several times.

  “But how did they find out where you live? You’ve been so careful to not let anyone know,” Mr. Cardenas says, looking at Sara and then at Emiliano. “We’ve all been so careful, ever since you told us about the threats.”

  “Someone at El Sol told them. The only person who knows where I live. Someone I trusted,” Sara says quietly.

  “Have you told Mrs. Fuentes? About Linda, that she may be alive?” Mrs. Cardenas asks.

  “I was waiting until I knew more. They’ve gone through so much. I didn’t want to get their hopes up. It’s possible that … she was alive on Thursday and she’s not anymore.” Sara looks at her hands.

  “You need to call Mrs. Fuentes,” Mami says with authority. “Carmela is right. Her mother needs to know. Even if the worst happens, a mother would want to know so she can pray.”

  “Okay,” Sara says. “Is there a phone I can use? I’m not supposed to use my cell phone.”

  “You can use the one in the kitchen.”

  “What will you do now?” Mrs. Cardenas asks before Sara moves. The question is directed at Mami, so Emiliano and Sara both turn to her.

  “We will go to León with my sister Tencha.”

  Emiliano freezes at the words. León? No, that can’t happen.

  “You can stay with us in the meantime,” Mr. Cardenas tells them.

  “Thank you,” Sara says. “It’s better if we’re not with anyone we know. My friend from the FBI gave me the name of a woman in the State Police. She’ll take us to a safe place.” Then, looking at Mrs. Cardenas, she says, “I’m going to make those calls.”

  Emiliano watches Sara make her way down the hall toward the kitchen. She takes a piece of paper out of the front pocket of her jeans as she walks.

  “León Guanajuato is a nice city. Not so much violence there,” Mr. Cardenas says.

  “The Pumas will lose every game without you,” Paco tells Emiliano.

  “Excuse me,” Emiliano says abruptly. He stands and walks out the front door. Paco follows him.

  Emiliano and Paco stand in the front yard next to the statue of the Virgen de Guadalupe. Emiliano takes the key to the Vespa out of his pocket and hands it to Paco. “Take care of it. It’s not mine, so don’t wreck it. I’ll be back for it soon.”

  They both look up when they hear the sound of a helicopter flying overhead. After a while, Paco says, “Remember when they caught you stealing that camera and they were going to put you in jail? They let you make one phone call and you called me. How come?”
>
  “How come what?”

  “Why did you call me? You knew I was going to call Brother Patricio. Why not just call him?”

  Emiliano plucks a leaf from a nearby rosebush. He rolls it and throws it away. “I was too embarrassed to call anyone else.”

  “So why are you embarrassed to tell me about what you’re into now?”

  Emiliano thinks. It would be so helpful to tell Paco about Mr. Reyes, about Perla Rubi, about Javier, but there’s no way that Paco would understand or approve.

  Paco waits for Emiliano’s answer. When it is clear that there will not be one, he says, with kindness, “Maybe going to Léon and leaving whatever it is you’re into is for the best.”

  A wave of anger rises in Emiliano’s chest. “Why do you assume that whatever I’m into is bad?”

  Paco only smiles. It’s as if the anger behind Emiliano’s words is all the proof he needs. “Let’s go back in,” he says. “I’ll put the scooter in the shed, where it will be safe. It’ll be waiting for you. Or write me a letter and tell me where to take it.”

  “Sorry, man.” It’s not you, he wants to tell him. It’s what he’s losing.

  “Just be careful. I hate funerals.”

  Inside the house, Sara and Joel are standing by the door. Mr. Cardenas is on the sofa while Mami sits in a chair. The television is off. “It’s okay that she was upset. A mother needs to know,” Mami tells Sara.

  “I hope so,” Sara responds, but she doesn’t sound too sure. Then to Emiliano: “The woman from the State Police is on her way. She’s taking us to a safe house until we can go to Léon.”

  “I just called Felita Lozano,” Mrs. Cardenas says, walking into the living room, agitated. “She was washing dishes, looking out her kitchen window, when she saw a brown car park in front of your house. Four men jumped out with machine guns. They opened fire for about a minute. In broad daylight! They didn’t care who saw them! Chuy Lozano saw them go in the house and fire dozens and dozens more shots. They were in there about ten minutes. The Lozanos thought they had killed all of you. Anyway, they’re gone. Chuy saw them get in the car and drive away. He even got their license plate and called the police. Lots of good that’s going to do.”

  “Do you think they’ll be back? I would like my rosary and maybe some things to wear,” Mami says.

  “I can go,” Emiliano says.

  “I’m coming with you,” Sara adds.

  “I’ll drive you,” Joel tells them. “We’ll make sure they’re really gone first. I’ll get the keys to the car.”

  “Where are you going?” Mrs. Cardenas says to Paco, who is following his brother down the hall.

  “For my shoes. I’m going with them.”

  Emiliano and Sara walk outside and stand by Joel’s car. Sara puts her arm around Emiliano’s dejected shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t want to go to Léon.”

  “I know. I’m not crazy about the idea either. I still have nightmares about that parrot that lives in Aunt Tencha’s bathroom.”

  “Bartolomeo.”

  “Yeah, that guy. He gives me the creeps, the way he turns his head and looks at me with one eye while I do my business.”

  Emiliano shakes his head. “What do we do? We can’t go live there.”

  “We do whatever Mami asks us to do. It’s as simple as that. Don’t even question what she says or struggle against it in your mind. We owe it to her to go where she wants us to go. At least for a while.” She looks down. “I know you’re losing a lot. Your Perla Rubi. Your friends. Your school. I’m losing what I love the most—my job. Going to wherever Mami wants us to go is a sacrifice that we will make for her. A sacrifice. There’s no other word for it.”

  Emiliano sighs. Sacrifice. That’s what you call doing something even though you don’t feel like it. That’s the thing his father didn’t do.

  “Come on, let’s go see what we can rescue from our home.”

  “Our ex-home,” Emiliano corrects his sister.

  They drive the two blocks to their house in Joel’s car. He parks in the alleyway in back. If the bad people return, they can run out the back and jump in the car. They get out and walk to the front, where a group of neighbors is standing.

  No one speaks. There are no words to describe what they see. It is as if they are seeing what the house would look like if left unattended for a hundred years. Sara always imagined that bullets made small holes, but the cinder blocks of the house have cavities the size of baseballs. Every piece of glass from the two windows that faced the street has been blown out. Behind one of those windows is Mami’s bedroom. If Ernesto hadn’t called, she’d be dead.

  Neighbors come up to them and offer their help. Oásis Revolución was a quiet neighborhood of working-class people. It had survived unscathed through even the worst of the cartel wars. Sara feels as if she just poisoned the existence of all these good people who have worked so hard to live unnoticed by the violence that surrounds them. She wants to tell them all not to worry, that she’s not coming back. Their family will disappear and children can play on the street again.

  Emiliano is the first to go in. Sara follows with Joel and Paco behind her. She stands in the hallway for a few seconds, looking at the devastation in the kitchen and the living room. The shooters opened up their machine guns inside the house. Mami’s china blasted to pieces. The rocking chair, the TV, pictures on the wall, all shattered. As the tears fill her eyes, she sees Emiliano turn around quickly and dash into his room. She knows he needs a private place to rage.

  “We shouldn’t stay long,” Joel says. “They could come back.”

  Sara goes to Mami’s bedroom and searches for her rosary but can’t find it. Through her teary vision, she sees the bed, Mami’s dresser, the nightstand, all full of white dust and pieces of plaster and glass, and she knows she hadn’t fully understood the reality of Hinojosa’s threat until this moment. It had all been words, an abstraction. But here it is, palpable, shown through bullets meant for her and her family. Sara had never realized fear could be so physical, how it invades all of your body, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. She can even taste it. It tastes like metal.

  “We better hurry,” Joel says from the doorway.

  Sara takes Mami’s old cardboard suitcase from the top of her closet and packs a few clothes for her. Then she goes into her room. It’s clear that they were looking for the cell phone. All the drawers and books are on the floor. The mattress is upright against a wall. Every container that can hold something is broken. If she had left the cell phone in the room so it could be found, would Hinojosa and his people leave her family alone?

  But right then, seeing what the shooters did to their house and would have done to them if they had been there, Sara is glad she had the cell phone with her. She never thought she could hate, but she hates Hinojosa and his evil. She packs her laptop and some personal things in a small suitcase. Just as she’s leaving, she sees her journal in a corner, facedown with its pages open. She throws that in. When she steps out, Joel and Paco are at the back door, waiting anxiously.

  “Where’s Emiliano?” Sara asks.

  “Still in his room,” Paco says.

  Sara moves quickly back to Emiliano’s bedroom. He’s standing, his hands limp by his side, looking down at his bed.

  “They urinated on my bed,” he says listlessly when she comes up next to him. “Why would anybody do that?”

  “They’re animals,” she says. “We have to go.” Sara sees his backpack next to his desk and hands it to him. He looks at it as if he has never seen such a thing before. “Emiliano, I need you to focus. Don’t check out on me. Mami and I need you to be a Jipari right now.”

  It is the right thing to say. Emiliano snaps out of wherever he was and starts to look around his room. He pushes away the backpack Sara offers and instead grabs the larger one with an aluminum frame that he used on his Jipari outings. He opens the fake Bible, which miraculously was not touched, and takes out the wad o
f money in there. Sara helps him find a shirt and a pair of pants, underwear and socks. Then, as if remembering something, he opens the door to his closet and gets the hiking boots he treasured so much.

  “Do you want to take the letters?” Sara points to the shoe box next to the bed.

  “No,” Emiliano responds immediately without looking at the box.

  On their way out, Sara goes into Mami’s room for one last look and finds her rosary under the dresser.

  When they get back to Paco’s house, a black SUV sits in the driveway with a woman in a blue T-shirt and jeans standing outside it. Joel slows down when he sees her.

  “That’s Estela Gómez,” Sara says.

  “Are you sure you can trust her?” Joel says.

  “My FBI friend gave me her name.”

  “A State Police woman?” Paco asks skeptically.

  “Yes,” Sara answers with as much certainty as she can find inside herself. Although it’s hard to have faith in anyone at that moment, there’s no way that Alejandro Durand would give her the name of someone who could not be trusted.

  When they get out of the car, Estela walks straight to Sara. She’s a handsome woman in her mid-thirties, with short black hair and a slim body that makes her look more like a model in a fitness magazine than a policewoman. The grasp of her hand in Sara’s is firm and confident.

  “You ready?” she asks.

  “Yes. Our mother’s inside. You got here fast.”

  Estela stares at Joel and Paco until they get the message and walk away.

  “Alejandro called me earlier this evening. I was getting ready to come see you when you called,” Estela says.

  “We just got back from the house. They destroyed it.”

  “Yup, that’s what they do. You’re lucky. You’re safe now. But there’s no time to waste. Get your mother and your brother.”

  Her words and the strength behind them make Sara smile. She sounds like what Sara tries to sound like when she’s on a mission to get the truth. “I’m so glad to meet a good police person.”

  “There’s more of us than people think,” Estela says, cracking a smile for the first time.