2016 Young Explorer's Adventure Guide

by Maggie Allen

  Esperanza didn’t see anything except a swirl of dust, way out on the road winding down from the mountains. “Just a dust devil.”

  Prophet’s eyes were always moving, like he was searching for something the rest of them couldn’t see, but now he looked Esperanza right in the eyes, his gaze heavy and clear. “He’s. Coming.”

  She’d never seen Prophet so intent. Esperanza looked towards the road again. The whirlwind of dust was closer. Something about it didn’t look right. She shaded her eyes with one hand.

  The dust cloud was moving. Or something inside it was. And it was yellow. “Madre de Dios, is that a school bus?” The putter-pop of an engine broke the stillness. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a vehicle. She hadn’t even been sure there was anyone alive outside of Huntsville.

  Maybe it was someone with supplies and food. Dios, what she wouldn’t give for a nice cold soda. Fresh tortillas. Hamburger and fries. Just as her mouth started watering, Esperanza remembered Papa’s warning – when things go bad, chances are a stranger would be just as like to shoot you for some water as they would be to help you.

  Nate came running up, his eyes as big around as Esperanza figured her own were.

  The bus spluttered up with a squeal of brakes and shuddered before the engine went dead. The door whooshed open.

  A smell rolled out that reminded Esperanza of a mountain meadow after a rain. A tall fellow eased up from the driver’s seat and hopped down the steps. There was no one else on the bus.

  “Hey there,” the tall guy said.

  He had the biggest ears Esperanza had ever seen on a person. They sat low on his head and stuck way out.

  It was only after she was able to draw her gaze from the peculiar ears that Esperanza noticed the stranger’s honey-colored skin was smooth and clear. Not a pockmark in sight. Esperanza couldn’t stop her finger from reaching up to trace the nooks and crannies on her own face.

  The man pulled a red kerchief from his back pocket. “Sure is hot today.” He mopped his face, then looked straight into Esperanza’s eyes. “What we need is some rain,” he said.

  A little chill ran across the back of Esperanza’s neck. His eyes were an unnatural shade of green, as bright as new grass in spring. Papa’d always said you could judge a person by the look in his eyes, but this man’s eyes didn’t tell her a thing. He didn’t have the look of a gringo, but he didn’t look Hispanic, either.

  “Who’re you?” Nate asked. “You got any food? Who won the war?”

  The stranger looked up at the sky as if an answer might be found hidden somewhere in the brown haze. “You can call me Clarence,” he finally said. “And there wasn’t any winners –only losers.”

  “Didn’t you get sick?” Esperanza asked, still focused on that smooth complexion.

  “Everyone got sick, didn’t they?”

  “Yep.” Esperanza waited for a better answer but the stranger just smiled. She didn’t trust anyone who didn’t want to answer simple questions. From what they’d heard before the radio transmissions stopped, everyone in the country had got sick. Heck, all the kids had the same pockmarked faces as Esperanza.

  Maybe this man had been far enough removed from towns to escape the plague, but then again, whoever put the germs in the bombs would probably have made sure they were protected against it. “Where you from?”

  Before the man could answer, Prophet came running up, a big grin plastered across his face. “Clarence!” he said.

  The stranger’s face softened. “There you are.”

  “Yup.” Prophet nodded hard enough to knock his hat off if he’d been wearing one.

  “You know him?” Esperanza asked.

  Prophet didn’t answer, just kept on grinning in that way he had, the one that made you think you were his long-lost best friend.

  The stranger answered instead. “He wandered into our territory after the bombs and stayed awhile.”

  “Yeah? Where was that?”

  “Oh, just up the road a ways,” he said with a vague wave of his hand toward the mountains.

  “There’s no towns up that road.”

  “I didn’t say I lived in a town, did I?”

  He said it friendly enough, but with just enough of a challenge in his voice to rile Esperanza and set her even further on edge. She glanced around at the other kids. Besides Nate and Prophet, there were two girls, Jenn and Alice Hunter, hunkered up against the side of the building, and another group of four kids headed their way. Esperanza was getting nervous being out in the open with this stranger.

  Luis pulled on her shirt. “I wanna go home! Mama’ll be worried about us being gone so long.” A hunk of dark hair hung across his right eye.

  “Go on inside,” she said, glad of the interruption.

  “You said you’d take me home today,” Luis said, not budging an inch.

  “Mañana.”

  “That’s what you said yesterday and the day before. I want to see Mama!”

  Most of the time, she tried to be patient, hoping that once the shock of Mama’s and Papa’s deaths wore off, Luis would be okay. But after all this time, she was tired of pretending, and right now, she was just plain tired of it all. “Not now!” she yelled. “Get on inside!”

  Luis’s eyes got real big, then filled with tears as his lower lip quivered. Esperanza felt like she’d a big ache in her chest when he turned and ran inside the grocery store.

  Clarence gave her a look and shook his head. She was already ashamed of her outburst, but she couldn’t back down with everyone staring at her, could she?

  And besides, who was this stranger to walk into their town and start trying to tell them what to do? What was he even here for, anyway? “What is it you want here, mister?”

  Prophet tugged on Esperanza’s sleeve, his face lit up like a light was shining from inside. “He’s here to help us, Espie.”

  “We’re doing just fine on our own,” Esperanza said, jutting her chin out.

  “I’ll allow you don’t have cause to trust me,” Clarence said, “but I do want to help you kids out. I imagine it’s been a mite scary. When did your folks die?”

  His question threw Esperanza off, making her recall that awful day Papa died. Esperanza felt all unsettled, like she didn’t know which way to go or what to feel. The girls by the car started edging closer, while Nate stuck his hands in his pocket with a frown.

  Esperanza swallowed to ease the strain on her throat. “A while back. About seven months,” she answered, not even sure why she was answering at all. Truth was, it’d been seven months, twelve and a half days. Early morning, just as the sun was clearing the horizon.

  “I’m sorry, girl.”

  “Wasn’t nothing more than all the others went through.”

  “Still, hard for you kids to be left alone.”

  Esperanza shrugged. She sort of did wish she could trust this stranger, let him take over things so she could just be a kid again. But she didn’t know enough about him yet. He might be one of those who would want to take what little they had, and she wasn’t about to let any of the others get too close to someone they couldn’t trust yet. “I said we’re just fine.” She turned to the others, “C’mon, let’s go inside.” She pulled Prophet by the sleeve into the store, motioning the others to follow.

  After everyone was in, she locked the door, peeking out through a crack in the plywood to watch Clarence. He smiled at the door, like he knew Esperanza was watching him, then sat on the steps of the bus. After a while, he leaned back against the open door and appeared to fall asleep.

  “What are we going to do with him?” Alice asked, jerking her chin toward Clarence.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’ll be gone by morning. Just stay away from him for now.”

  “He seems all right to me. Maybe he can drive us someplace.”

  Maybe it was stupid to stay in Huntsville instead of going to look for help somewhere, but Esperanza had promised Papa that she’d take care of the ranch, and she meant to ab
ide by that promise, no matter what. “We don’t even know who he is or what he wants!”

  “Can’t be much worse than what we gone through already,” Nate said.

  Esperanza didn’t have an argument for that. For about the gazillionth time since Papa and Mama had died, she wished she could just crawl into the corner and never, ever come out again. She’d never asked to be in charge of things, it’d just kinda happened. She wasn’t even very good at it.

  “Esperanza! Isn’t Clarence coming inside to eat? He can have some of my beans,” Prophet said, holding out his can.

  “He’s got his own food. He said he wanted to stay in the bus,” Esperanza answered. She was getting pretty good at lying. Mama’d skin her alive if she could have heard.

  Luis was huddled on their makeshift bed of sleeping bags and quilts, still crying. He didn’t turn over to look at her. Esperanza knew she should apologize, but she was just too worn out to do it right then. She threw herself down beside Luis and turned her back on him.

  She sure wouldn’t have made Mama or Papa proud today.

  It took several hours of tossing and turning before Esperanza was able to sleep that night. She dreamed of Papa, staring as if he were trying to say something with only his eyes, and in the background, Mama cried Luis’ name.

  Esperanza woke with a heavy feeling in her gut. When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Prophet, sitting with his back against the wall.

  “Hey, Espie!”

  Esperanza sat up and rubbed her eyes. Luis’ side of the bed was empty. “Where’s Luis?”

  “He left. Can we have Crispy-O’s for breakfast?”

  “He left? Where’d he go?” It was a stupid question. There was only one place Luis would go.

  Prophet shrugged and climbed to his feet. “I dunno. Can we have Crispy-O’s?”

  “Why didn’t you stop him?”

  “I–I–I dunno.” Prophet sucked on his upper lip while his gaze swept around the room, finally fastening on Esperanza. “I want Crispy-O’s.”

  Esperanza could only think of Luis and what might happen if he made it to the ranch by himself. What would he do if he saw the graves? Esperanza’s imagination ran wild, imagining Luis upset and wandering off to who-knew-where. He wouldn’t last half a day on his own.

  Prophet jerked on Esperanza’s shirt. “Espie. Can I have Crispy-O’s?”

  Worried out of her mind over Luis, Esperanza shoved Prophet away. He stumbled and fell to the ground with a cry. A part of Esperanza was horrified at what she’d done, but she couldn’t think of anything right now except Luis.

  She ran outside without apologizing or helping Prophet up.

  Luis’ bike was gone. If he’d left at first light, he’d almost be at the ranch by now. Esperanza hopped on her own bike and pedaled down the street.

  She’d just passed the city limits sign when she heard the bus chugging up from behind. She pedaled faster, but there was no out-running it.

  “Get in, Esperanza,” Clarence hollered above the engine noise.

  Esperanza pedaled faster.

  “You’ll get there a lot quicker in the bus,” Clarence yelled.

  Prophet was perched on the seat behind Clarence. Esperanza laid on the brakes, skidding to a stop. “Prophet, get off that bus!”

  Prophet didn’t raise his head to look at her. Esperanza guessed she didn’t blame him much, not after she’d yelled at him and shoved him down.

  What to do now? She couldn’t leave Prophet alone with the stranger, but she needed to get to the ranch, and it was still a couple miles away.

  Papa always said, comes a time to stop worrying and just trust that things’ll work out. Right now, the important thing was to catch Luis as quick as possible.

  Esperanza gave in and hauled her bike up the bus steps and stowed it between the seats. She sat catty-corner from Prophet. Clarence pulled the bus back on the road. Prophet sniffled and swiped at his nose.

  “Don’t you think Prophet deserves an apology?” Clarence asked, staring at Esperanza in the driver’s rearview mirror.

  It wasn’t that Esperanza didn’t want to apologize. She hated hurting Prophet’s feelings. But she didn’t like it that this stranger was the one telling her what to do. “I didn’t do nothing.”

  “Didn’t you?”

  The bus hit a pot hole, almost throwing her from the seat.

  Prophet reached a hand out to steady her. “Esperanza! Don’t fall!”

  His worry and concern for her was plain to see. He was one of the sweetest, most caring persons she’d ever met. It wasn’t right to take her frustration out on him.

  She sighed. Mama’d always said no sense in letting pride get in your way.

  She moved over to sit beside Prophet and patted his hand. “I’m sorry I pushed you, Prophet. I was worried about Luis. But you didn’t deserve that, and I shouldn’t have done it.”

  Prophet snuggled against Esperanza’s side. “That’s ok,” he said.

  Esperanza met Clarence’s gaze in the mirror, and the stranger nodded approval. The bus sped up and didn’t hit any more pot holes.

  “Esperanza?”

  “Yeah, Prophet?”

  “The rains are coming.”

  “That so? When?”

  “Soon.”

  They came to a series of small dips in the road. It wasn’t much farther to the ranch. “Turn left at the next road,” she said to Clarence.

  They turned the corner, and there was Luis, walking his bike. He had his lawn chair slung over his shoulder. At the end of the road, the roof of their home could be glimpsed through the treetops. The bus squealed to a stop. Esperanza hopped down.

  Sweat beaded Luis’ forehead. Both bike tires were flat. He let Esperanza hand the bike up to Clarence, but when she turned back to help him into the bus, he’d gone on ahead, still walking toward home.

  Esperanza chased him down, pulling him to a stop with a hand on his shoulder. “Get on the bus, Luis,” she said.

  Luis shook his head. “I’m going to see Mama.”

  “Mama’s –” Mama’s what? Dead? She couldn’t say it. Realized she hadn’t ever said it out loud.

  Luis looked as beat-tired as Esperanza felt, but he had that stubborn look in his eyes that used to make Mama shake her head and mutter under her breath. Mama’d always let him go on about his way when he got like that, and eventually he got over it. But this was different.

  Maybe a cold dose of reality was what he needed. Maybe she should just take Luis on home – let him see for himself.

  “You’ll get there quicker on the bus,” she said.

  Luis cocked his head, studying her. “You promise?”

  Esperanza nodded.

  Luis shrugged. “K, then.” He climbed up the steps into the bus.

  “Hey, Luis,” Prophet said with a smile and a little wave.

  “Hey.”

  “Wanna sit by me?”

  With a nod, Luis slid in beside Prophet. Esperanza sat down across the aisle from them.

  Clarence pulled back on the road. Prophet bounced in his seat like it was a trampoline. Soon enough, he got Luis to join in. The cushions squeaked and groaned as they bounced so high they almost fell on the floor. They fell back on the seat, giggling. Esperanza wished she could remember what it was like to feel that carefree.

  When the bus slowed down to take the bumpy dirt drive to Casita Esperanza, Luis stopped bouncing, his body edged and still.

  Clarence pulled up at the side of the house in a whirl of dust and opened the door. No one moved while waiting for the dust to clear. It’d always been quiet at the ranch, but the kind of quiet that was comforting – chirping birds, buzzing insects, and wind rustling the leaves.

  What she heard now was the wrong kind of quiet. A still, empty quiet.

  Esperanza looked around, the memories rushing in. There was Mama’s garden, the hills and furrows now bare dirt. The door to the shed stood open. Papa had used to sit there, where the roof overhang shaded him fr
om the afternoon sun. His chair leaned drunkenly against the wall.

  Luis’s face pinched up like it did when he was scared, and he settled against the bus seat like he wanted to melt into it. For some reason, that just made Esperanza mad. Here her brother had been at her for how long now, asking every five minutes to go home to see Mama, and now they were here, he wouldn’t get off the darned bus.

  “C’mon,” Esperanza said, jumping down the steps to the ground. “You wanted to come home. Here we are.”

  Luis got up, dragging his feet down the steps like he was walking in deep mud, his face getting tighter and tighter. Esperanza’s chest felt all pinched up, but her anger kept building. “Go on, then.” She pushed Luis toward the house. “Go see Mama.”

  She felt Clarence’s eyes on her back as she followed Luis across the porch.

  Luis fumbled the door open and stepped inside. “Mama?” His voice sounded tiny and echoing.

  Inside, everything looked the same. Just dustier. The emptiness made Esperanza’s stomach clench.

  Mama’d always been at the counter, kneading dough for tortillas or stirring the always-simmering pot of beans. At the kitchen table was Papa’s chair, angled to get a view of the mountains. Esperanza imagined if she held her breath, she’d hear echoes of her parent’s voices, forever alive in the house they’d pinned all their hopes on.

  “Mama?” Luis sniffled, swiped at his nose. “Where is she?”

  Esperanza couldn’t feel anything, like she’d breathed in the emptiness of the house and now it was lodged inside her chest. “She’s gone, Luis.”

  Luis’ eyes shifted around the room, and then he brightened. “She went to get Papa at the shed, didn’t she?” He ran outside.

  Mama’s coffee cup was on the windowsill, where she always set it so she could find it easy in the morning. Esperanza imagined Mama watching her with disapproval.

  She’d pushed Luis too far. She ran after him, catching him halfway across the yard.

  “C’mon, Luis. Let’s go back.”

  Luis threw her arm off and stomped through the gate and across to the shed. Esperanza’d never felt like such a gawd-awful failure.