Mouse Trapped

by Manda Mellett

  “Ms Schmitt. The man who drove the other car, he lied and said the light was green, and that the car in front stopped suddenly.”

  Adamantly she shakes her head. “Not what I saw.”

  “My fiancée, well, she’s been charged with a felony. Insurance fraud, the cops believe.”

  “Oh my.” Her eyes go wide. “They’ve charged the wrong person. Why didn’t they believe your fiancée? Surely she must have protested her innocence?”

  This is the hard part. But if she later finds out the truth and doesn’t like it, she might refuse to make a statement. “Ms Schmitt, my fiancée came to the US as a child when she was four years old. The US is all she’s ever known. She’s studying to become a nurse.”

  Her eyes have narrowed as she quickly puts two and two together. “She’s here illegally?”

  “She’s one of the Dreamers.”

  She humphs, but waves at me to continue.

  “Dreamers can’t be charged with a felony. If they are, they lose that protection. Cops picked her up, ran her fingerprints and called in ICE. She’s now in a detention centre waiting to be deported.”

  “Well, I can’t really help with that. Don’t agree with all these people coming into our country. She’ll have to go back to her own.”

  I blink slowly. It’s just as I had feared. “Her father raped her mother before she escaped. My fiancée’s got a brother who was born in Arizona. Their mother got deported when he was nine, was killed by her father almost as soon as she got home. Mariana, my fiancée, has been responsible for the kid for six years. Been a mother to him. If she’s deported, kid will have lost his only family.”

  “Well, that’s just a shame. But the authorities will look after him.”

  “Authorities did fuck all when they took her mother. Left a fourteen-year-old girl to look after her young brother. No one went to check on them. Forgot they existed. She kept them together when no one else cared. I’m the boy’s legal guardian now that she’s imprisoned. He’s devastated at losing the sister who’s been like a parent to him.”

  “Look, I’m sure all that was a mistake.” She starts to shift as though uncomfortable. “I don’t see how I can help you, I’m sorry. But I’ve no time for anyone who comes here illegally.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Your family, Ma’am. Or your husband’s? Schmitt, did you say your name was? You descendants of Germans?”

  “Austrians,” she corrects. “My late husband’s relatives came from Austria.”

  “And your own?”

  Her hands flutter. “Ireland. But way back then you didn’t need to prove anything.”

  “But your ancestors reaped the benefits of living in the US?”

  “And we’ve given back. We’ve all paid taxes.”

  “So does Mariana. And if she can complete her education, she’ll be a nurse.”

  Now she brightens as if she can prove something. “Don’t like foreign nurses. Can’t understand a word they say.”

  “Mariana speaks nothing but English, and has done so all her life.” I sigh, hoping to find something to get through to her. “If she’s sent back to Colombia, she’ll be in a country she’s never known, unable to speak the language. What if you were sent back to Ireland?”

  “Ireland’s a lovely place.”

  It probably is, now. “But what if it was a time when the troubles were still going on? The IRA bombings and killings. And if everyone around you spoke Gaelic.” I raise my hands. “I don’t see how I can convince you, but I’m not asking you to do anything wrong. All I’m asking is that you tell the truth.”

  Her head tilts to one side, and her brow creases. Suddenly she gives a startled laugh. “You are, aren’t you?” Her frown deepens. “You marrying this girl so she can get her green card?”

  “No, Ma’am, I’m not. I’m marrying her because I love her.” My lips curl. Somehow that’s right. Sounds stupid, but she’s found herself a place in my heart. The more I try to make it a reality, the more I know I want her with me for the rest of my life.

  She looks at me sharply, then smiles. “She must be one special lady.”

  “She is.”

  Chapter 21

  Mariana

  “Come on. You’ve got a visitor.”

  It’s not visiting time. Wary, remembering the last time I was taken away from the rest of the inmates, I move slowly to my feet, putting down the book I was reading. The female guard gestures at me impatiently. There’s nothing else I can do but follow her.

  I still haven’t got my bearings here yet, but I know I’m not being taken to the room where I met Tse, instead I’m taken down different corridors. A door is opened, and I’m pushed inside. There’s a table and two chairs, one placed either side of the desk.

  Wrapping my arms around myself, I stay on my feet, scared, not knowing who’s going to come in.

  It’s not long before I hear the tapping of high heels coming down the corridor. That’s not one of the guards, they don’t wear shoes like that. My eyes firmly fixed on the door, I watch the handle turning, then raise my eyes to the person who’s just walked in.

  “Carissa,” I exclaim, as relief washes over me. Tears prick at the back of my eyes. Much as I like seeing Tse, if anyone, it’s her who’s got any chance of getting me out of here. I examine her face. Has she news? And if she has, is it good or bad?

  “Mariana.” She smiles her pleasant smile, waving me to the seat behind the desk, then takes the one with her back facing the door for herself. As she sits down, I try to read her face, but it’s impossible. I doubt I’d want to play poker with her.

  Preparing myself for more stuff I don’t want to hear, I take a deep breath. “Is there anything new? Do you know why I was moved?”

  “To answer your second question, no, Mariana. But it’s possible the judge’s workload isn’t so heavy here.”

  “I thought I was going to be deported.” The memory of how I felt makes me shudder.

  “You shouldn’t be deported until you’ve been in front of the judge,” she reassures me. “But I’m here today to tell you something positive at least.”

  My ears prick up. Am I going to be released? What’s her version of good news?

  Still smiling, she at last enlightens me, “The charges against you have been dropped. A credible witness came forward and corroborated your version of the story.”

  It takes me a moment. Then I’m smiling as broadly as her, my facial muscles feeling awkward for being unused to that expression for so long. “Then they can’t hold me. Am I free?”

  Her head tilts to one side and her lips narrow. “I’m afraid not, Mariana. You’re in the system now. But the fact the charges have been dropped and there’s no longer a suspicion you’ve committed a felony, will go in your favour.”

  Anger rushes through me. Leaning forward, I hiss, “I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m missing college. My brother needs me. How the hell can they hold me?” I wipe my hands over my leaking eyes, feeling my cheeks burning red. “I was brought to the US because my mother’s life was in danger, and she thought mine was too. I’ve never known anything else. Colombia isn’t my country, the US is. I’m training to be a nurse…”

  “Whoa.” Carissa holds up her hand. “I know that, and that’s what we’ll tell the judge when you’re brought before him. You’re in the DACA program, that should count for something.”

  I notice she uses the word ‘should’ a lot. It doesn’t fill me with confidence. “Have you any idea of when my hearing will be? Is there no way of getting me released in the meantime?”

  She clasps her hands on the table and looks down at them, sighs, then meets my eyes. “The immigration system is a mess. Too many people to process, too few judges. You’re one of the lucky ones in that your fiancé is paying me to represent you. But there’s no way of telling how long it will be before your case is heard. I’m sorry, Mariana. Sorry you’ve been caught up in the system for no fault of your own.”

  “It was only a matter of time,” I
mumble.

  “What’s that?”

  I stand. “I’ve lived here for sixteen years; I contribute by paying my taxes. I’m working to become a nurse. I live in a nation of immigrants. I’m taking nothing, never had anything given to me, but because I wasn’t like my brother, born in the US, everyone wants to get rid of me. Why should the country of my birth want me? I don’t even speak the language. The only thing I have to offer is the benefit of the education I gained in the US.”

  “And that’s what we can explain to the judge.”

  When I eventually get a hearing. Something I both look forward to and dread. But from the conversations I’ve had with other inmates, it could be weeks, months or even years.

  I’m taken back to my cell where I lower my head into my hands and once again give into tears. I’m in utter despair. It’s even worse now my name’s been cleared and everyone knows I’m not guilty of a crime. The fact seems to be that it makes no difference; I’ve been caught up in a net. I don’t even hold out hope it might sway the judge. He’ll be following his instructions to process people as fast as he can and deport them. With such a heavy workload, what time can he spare on each case?

  Oh, I suspect, hope, some judges are fair. But being human, some will just go through the motions. Who’s going to criticise them? Public opinion is against illegal immigrants, and like it or not, that description applies to me.

  My days are regimented. Lights on, lights off at set times. In between I eat mechanically, only the thought of how much Drew needs me, making me fuel my body. I don’t mingle, there’s no point talking with people in the same position as me, it just re-emphasises my position. I spend my days lying on my bunk, wishing things could be different. At night, I don’t sleep. I don’t dare hope I’ll ever be walking the streets of Arizona again, ever feel like a free US citizen. Although I might not have the papers to show it, how can I regard myself as anything else? I’m as much American as anyone. It’s all I’ve ever known.

  When Tse visits next, he brings Drew with him. While I’m happy for Drew, his delight in the Honda Civic Tse bought him, his joy at driving to school—albeit someone has to be with him—and being on the path to having his independence only depresses me more. I should be with him. I should be the one helping him learn to drive, helping him with his homework. That my fiancé is his legal guardian now hits me hard. Oh, I can’t fault Tse for anything he’s doing. If he wasn’t looking after Drew, my brother might already have been kicked out of the trailer and be living on the streets, or in a foster family who might mistreat him.

  That man and boy have developed a good relationship is easy to see. Drew looks up to Tse, admires him. Tse’s fond of him too, ruffling his hair, touching him, when I can’t.

  As Drew prattles on about everything he’s been doing, talking to fill the silence when I’ve got nothing to say, I see Tse’s eyes examining me. Dark depths staring into mine, making me shift uncomfortably, knowing I’m hiding nothing from him.

  The next visit, Tse comes alone.

  “Where’s Drew?”

  He inhales deeply, then says slowly, “It’s not good for him seeing you like this, Mariana. He hides it well, but the last visit upset him.”

  “You’re keeping my brother from me?” The first emotion that’s not despair hits me for the first time in weeks. “You can’t do that. He’s my brother, not yours.”

  “He’s a fifteen-year-old kid, Mariana. It’s killing him that you’re not there. But last week you couldn’t even speak to him. He’s got to go on with his life. Who the fuck knows how long you’ll be here?” He sweeps his hair back from his face. “Look, darlin’, I hate seeing you like this. You look like you’re giving up, when you’ve just got to keep fighting. I’m doing everything I can to get you out, but I can’t influence the timetable. Just hang on in there, okay?”

  I shouldn’t take my misery out on him, he’s done everything he can for me, and more. I know he was behind clearing my name. But I snap. “Giving up? You have no idea what it’s like in here. It’s like waiting on death row for the sentence to be carried out.” I puff air into my cheeks, then blow it out. “Don’t bother coming any more, Tse. I won’t see you. And you can forget this relationship you’ve been talking about. I don’t want a fiancé, and even if I get out, I won’t marry you. Got it?”

  My heart speeds up with every hateful word I’m snarling across the table. “I don’t want to be hitched to a criminal. I don’t want to commit to living with you. I don’t even like you. I hate you!”

  Tse’s face softens, rather than hardens at my words.

  “Get out. Get out now. I never want to see you again. Got it?”

  My voice rises, the guard comes across. “I want to go back,” I tell him. He nods, seeing my visitor is upsetting me, well, it’s probably the other way around. But knowing that doesn’t stop me walking away, leaving Tse sitting with such a look of compassion on his face, I feel emotion welling inside me, but haven’t a clue what it is.

  With tears streaming uncontrollably down my cheeks I’m taken back to the prison ward.

  In my cell, I throw myself onto my bunk, and cry inconsolably. I really don’t know why I sent my lifeline away. Tse’s the man I fantasise about, but now he must hate me. But I can’t allow myself to think of a man with whom I’ve got no future. The longer I’m here, the more I’m convinced, the US has already washed its hands of me.

  Chapter 22

  Mouse

  It broke my fucking heart to see Mariana so beaten down. I didn’t get angry or riled when she was spewing those words at me, words which tried to dismiss me from her life. It was why I hadn’t taken Drew with me, last time I’d visited I could already see she’d given up hope.

  I’ve done one thing for her, got her record clean. The reason for her arrest doesn’t exist now. But I’m too aware that they won’t just set her free. Now they’ve got hold of her, she’ll be processed like everyone else. All I can do is to keep trying, digging up evidence that might help her.

  Which would be easier if I could find a General De Souza in the military database in Colombia. The fact I can’t worries me. The lack of data is annoying. Could he be in intelligence? His records are hidden deep where even I can’t find him? Or had he been lying to her mom, claiming a rank he’d never ascended to? All I’ve got to go on is the information in her mother’s letters.

  A reminder goes off on my watch. Standing up, brushing back my hair in frustration, I walk to the room a couple of doors down from mine and enter the meeting room where we hold church.

  I take my seat, my laptop in front of me in case I need to look anything up, and prepare to sit through another meeting. It’s business as usual, not much on the agenda that’s any different. No one gunning for us.

  Joker raises his hand. “I’m not happy with the surface of the kids’ playground. Can it be replaced with something softer in case they fall?”

  Lady’s nodding. The pair make me smile. Hell, who’d expect them to end up with a daughter? Well, she’s technically Joker’s niece, but they’re both acting the part of her dad. Going through a proper adoption. Surprised us all when they brought her back to the compound a couple of weeks ago.

  Viper puts his head in his hands, then looks at Drummer. “Prez. We’re working construction on that mall. Ain’t got time to keep doing shit here.”

  Prez’s eyes narrow, then he grimaces. “You’re right, Viper. Joker, you’ve raised a good point. Be good to have a place where babies can crawl and play, and where Grunt doesn’t shit.” He throws a pointed look at Joker. “You want it done? Why don’t you look into it?”

  Joker glances at Viper, who nods. “Sure, just didn’t want to step on Viper or Bullet’s toes.”

  “We’re good,” Bullet replies.

  Beef raises his hand. “Can I suggest you have a separate meeting to discuss kids? I prefer the topics of killing and blowing up shit.”

  My lips curve up. You can tell by his face that he’s joking. It’s just goo
d to have our brother with us and fully recovered after being so close to meeting the grim reaper a few months back.

  “Mouse. How’s your ol’ lady doing?”

  Prez’s direct question has me off-balance. I close my laptop, sit back in my chair, and sigh. These are my brothers; now I’ve brought them in on my problems, I don’t mind sharing. “She’s refusing to see me or the kid now. She’s given up, Prez. It could be months before she has a hearing, and she’s not hopeful of the outcome of that.”

  “Meanwhile you’re trapped in a relationship that’s going nowhere.” Wraith sounds sympathetic.

  “Good one,” chuckles Blade. “Our Mouse has been trapped.” When no one laughs, he continues, “Mouse trap. Get it?”

  Everyone ignores him, well, except Prez who sends him a glare, before turning more compassionate eyes on me. “No one would think worse of you if you stepped away, Mouse.”

  “Don’t want to do that, Prez.” The more Mariana’s pushing me away, the more I want to stay close to her. She’s mine. We’ll be together one way or another. Even if I have to follow her to Colombia.

  “The car’s perked Drew up. Like the kid myself,” Blade throws in, redeeming himself.

  He’s right. It has.

  Something occurs to me. “Anyone got any objections to Drew being here? It could be for longer than I expected.”

  “You’re his legal guardian now, aren’t you? Making him your responsibility makes him ours too.” I hadn’t thought of it that way. I raise my chin in thanks toward Prez. “Okay, if there’s no other business, let’s wrap this up. Mouse, can you spare a minute?”

  “Sure, Prez.” As the other brothers make their way to the bar, I follow him into his office. It isn’t empty as I’d expected, there’s a man sitting there. A man with an ugly jagged scar running down his face.

  “Devil,” I exclaim, stepping forward and holding out my hand. There’ve been a couple of times the Satan’s Devils and Grade A Security have worked together for our mutual benefit.