“It’s only a little further,” said one.
“This hell is almost over,” assured another.
Finally, at ten in the morning, the truck began making frequent turns, having apparently left the highway and now working its way along smaller streets. The mood in the truck lightened as they realized their long trip was nearing an end. The truck paused a moment and they thought they heard the sound of a garage door opening, then the truck moved forward again and they suddenly heard the sound of gravel beneath the tires.
After six of the worst hours of Yesenia’s life, the truck stopped and the engine was shut off. The handle of the doors rocked back and forth and then the doors opened.
The sudden burst of light blinded the occupants for a moment. They’d spent the last six hours in complete darkness, and as the sunlight spilled over them many had to raise their arms for a moment as their eyes adjusted.
“God,” said the man who had opened the door. “What’s that smell?” He looked over the passengers as though they were dogs that’d just crapped on the carpet. “Come on, out of there, all of you.”
Yesenia climbed out and the blast of fresh air was like slipping into a cold pool after walking across the desert, parched and weary, for untold days. She breathed deeply and her body rejoiced in the stench-free oxygen. She raised her hands over her head to stretch and couldn’t suppress a smile. It felt so wonderful to be out of the truck. She felt like kicking off her sandals and skipping about, but of course did not. The smugglers were still around them and they hadn’t put away their guns.
As she looked around, she saw they had pulled into the back of a small auto repair shop in a town called Rosenberg, Texas, just south of Houston. There was a privacy fence around the lot where cars sat waiting to be worked on and it afforded the immigrants secrecy as they climbed down from the back of the truck, some practically crawling.
The smugglers told their passengers to unload the truck first thing and the fifty bales of marijuana were taken inside the shop and stacked neatly in a little pit normally used by mechanics when doing oil changes. Only then were they allowed to stretch their legs, use the bathroom inside the shop, and get a drink from the water hose, which was then used to clean out the inside of the truck, urine and vomit splashing out onto the ground.
Over the next few hours, cars began pulling up to the front of the shop and ringing a little buzzer. The front garage door would open and the cars would drive through and out the back ones into the yard where they happily met the family members they were there to pick up. Husbands and wives, siblings, parents and children, all reunited with hugs and kisses. “Papi, you smell,” said one little girl as she hugged her father.
“It was a rough trip,” he told his wife, who also hugged him tightly but squinched her nose.
Yesenia and Silvia watched with a bit of envy, happy they at least had each other, but somewhat frightened to be in this new country with no family to greet them. They were even more frightened as the rest of the travelers left, leaving the girls alone with the smugglers, one of whom eyed them both hungrily.
The afternoon wore on into the evening and they began to wonder if anyone was coming for them. They were given some chips and soda the men at the shop had but it did little to fill their stomachs. Both could tell the men in the shop were becoming frustrated. Whoever was supposed to pick them up was running late and the one who had been eyeing the girls most of the day was sending shivers up Yesenia’s spine.
If he had intentions of taking advantage of the girls, he was thwarted by an older model black GMC Suburban that pulled into the yard. Its windows were tinted almost limo black and the girls couldn’t see who was inside, but when its doors opened two Hispanic men got out. They both looked to be in their twenties and they met the other smugglers like old friends. They walked over and looked at the two girls.
“I’m Jose,” said one. “That’s Hector.” He pointed to the other man. “You’ll be riding with us from here.”
Yesenia and Silvia introduced themselves, but the men didn’t seem overly interested. “Got the other stuff?” Jose asked the smuggler with the strange eyes.
“Of course. Twenty-five an ounce, right?”
“Yeah. Fifteen loads.” Each packed load they’d been carrying was twenty pounds of pot. Its street value was more than double the twenty-five Jose was paying.
The two men were led inside the shop and shown the bales down in the pit. Then they backed their suburban up to the rear garage doors and put fifteen bales inside. They handed the man with the wild eyes a bag full of money. “Ninety-five thousand. The extra five is for the girls.”
The man flipped through the cash and handed the bag to a man next to him to be counted, “You want a beer?”
“Por su puesto,” responded the man.
After drinking a couple of beers and smoking a few cigarettes with the other men, they shook hands again and the new arrivals told Yesenia and Silvia to get in the suburban.
“Where are we going?” asked Silvia.
“Dallas,” said Jose.
“Is it a long drive?” asked Yesenia, scooting into the back seat with Silvia.
“A few hours, but you’ll be more comfortable than you were in the truck.”
“Can we stop to eat?” asked Silvia.
“What, are you two hungry?” asked Hector.
“Starving,” said Silvia. “We haven’t eaten anything except chips since yesterday.”
“You wouldn’t believe the trip we had. They didn’t even let us use the bathroom. People were peeing in the truck. It was disgusting.”
“Hey, rest stops are the easiest way to get caught.” The men drove through a McDonalds and handed the girls cheeseburgers with fries and cokes, which the girls devoured with relish. Afterward, with full stomachs, the two leaned opposite directions on the bench seat and it was not long until both girls feel fast asleep.
Jose looked back at them and told his friend, “You want to have some fun before we get there?”
“No,” said Hector. “She might let you get away with it, but not me.”
“How’s she going to know?” asked Jose. “We can make sure they stay quiet.”
“She’d know. Nothing gets by her.”
The taxi pulled to the curb in front of the hotel and the three friends got out. “That’s not exactly how I wanted to start the vacation,” Kendra said.
“It’s going to be okay,” said Jamie. “Let’s just put it behind us, but we’ll definitely be more careful.”
“I still can’t believe that guy,” Kelly said as she got out of the car. Jamie pulled a little cash from her pocket and as she was paying the driver the girls heard a car barreling down on them from up the street. They looked up to see an older cream colored car skid to a halt in front of the Hilton’s driveway. Three men jumped out and Kelly screamed when she realized who it was . . . Martin and his friends.
The men rushed her and Kendra and one of them punched Kendra viciously in the face and she dropped unconscious to the ground. The two men with Martin then grabbed Kelly and pulled her kicking and screaming towards the car where Martin stood opening the back door for them.
Jamie had looked up in time to see Kendra drop and the men grab Kelly. She ran around the taxi and flew herself at the men, “Get your fucking hands off her!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. She lunged at Martin as though ready to rip his eyes out.
Martin reached into his belt waist and pulled out a gun. “No,” Kelly screamed as she was pushed into the car and realized what was about to happen. “Jamie!” she screamed in warning, but it was too late. He pointed the weapon at her and pulled the trigger without a moment’s hesitation. Her eyes went wide in surprise and she fell face forward clutching her chest. Then he pointed his gun at the frightened taxi driver. The poor man tried to switch his car into drive and hit the gas, but Martin put two in his head before the car could take off. He leaned over Jamie as if to put another bullet in her and Kelly, desperate to do anything
to stop him but still having her arms still held tight, leaned in and bit one of the men as hard as she could on his ear. He let out a belligerent scream just as Martin was about to fire, and instead he turned his head, saw what Kelly was doing, and ran over and kicked her in her head. She fell backward in the seat and Martin told the other man, “Let’s go,” in Spanish. The man who she’d bit ran around and back into the driver’s seat.
A second later he pushed Kelly’s legs further inside the car as he slammed the door shut behind him and the car roared off into the night. People began to run out into the street to help Kendra, who’d been knocked unconscious, and Jamie, who was face down in the asphalt bleeding to death.
Yesenia was awakened by flashing lights. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw that the black suburban was parked on the edge of the highway, its engine idling. The digital clock in the dash read 9:42 p.m. There was an unusual bustle of movement in the front.
“Don’t panic,” Jose whispered from the passenger seat.
“What do we do?” asked Hector.
“Just act normal. I’ll take care of it.”
Yesenia looked over her shoulder and saw what had the two men so concerned. The flashing lights sat atop a Texas state trooper’s car. She watched as the cruiser’s door opened and an officer dressed in tan with a tan cowboy hat approached, his right hand resting on his pistol and a flashlight held up in his left. He was a black man with an athletic build and stern gaze.
Unbeknownst to the Trooper or the girls, Jose’s hand was also resting on the grip of a pistol. He slowly moved it to his lap and slid it beneath his thigh. Yesenia leaned up just in time to see what Jose was hiding away and she gasped. Next to her, Silvia was still sleeping soundly, but Jose had heard her and looked back at her. “Don’t say a word,” he warned her, his finger to his lips.
Hector rolled down his window as the trooper approached and smiled as though happy to be pulled over. “Was I speeding?” he asked.
“License and insurance, please,” said the trooper. The beam of light from his flashlight slid along the interior of the vehicle like a snake looking for a mouse. Jose had his hands visible, one on the center console and the other on the window handle of the door. The trooper angled the light and looked at Yesenia and Silvia a moment before continuing the light towards the back of the vehicle where it fell upon the black tarp. Hector was fumbling with his wallet and handed his license to the trooper.
The light retreated from the car and fell upon the license he now held in his hand. “Where y’all headed?”
“Home,” said Jose, speaking over Hector. “We were visiting family in the valley.”
“Is that right?” asked the trooper, looking at Hector.
“Yes, sir,” he answered. “I’m sorry if I was speeding. We’ve had a long trip.”
The trooper leaned in a little bit, still moving his flashlight about. “You got your insurance card on ya?” he asked.
“I’m looking for it,” said Jose as he opened the glove box and rummaged around. “Whose vehicle is this?” asked the trooper.
“It’s mine,” said Jose. “We’re taking turns driving.”
The trooper flashed his light towards the glove box to watch Jose’s hands, but saw nothing but a mess of papers. As he leaned in towards the vehicle to keep an eye on what Jose pulled out of the glove box, he suddenly picked up on the aroma of marijuana. The bales had been packed and re-packed as tight as could be, but still that unmistakable smell permeated ever so softy. And the Trooper was all too familiar with that tell tale scent. From roaches in the ashtray to dime bags people tried to hide in their underwear, he’d smelled it a hundred times before. But he didn’t so much as blink to let on that he knew. The tarp in the back indicated this could be more than someone’s personal joint he smelled. This could be a runner.
Intending to call for backup he retreated from the window a bit and told them, “Y’all keep looking for that insurance and wait here for a moment while I run the license.”
Jose pulled some papers from the glove box, and as the trooper turned around quietly slipped his hand beneath his thigh. He pulled his pistol and folded the papers around it, hiding it from view. “Sir! I found the insurance, sir!”
The trooper turned back around and flashed his light inside the car. Jose leaned over Hector as if to hand the officer a bundle of papers. As he reached out to take them the trooper glimpsed the bulge of the gun, but it was too late. In the second he realized what the man had in his hand, he went for his own gun, but Jose had already fired, striking the trooper in the neck.
Yesenia screamed as he fell to the ground, his hand grasping the wound as blood spurted out of his carotid artery. Jose jumped out of the suburban and ran around to where the trooper was laying. Still holding his neck, the officer saw Jose coming for him and tried again to pull is gun, but Jose shot him three times more, twice in the chest and once in the head. His head tilted and his open eyes seemed to be looking at Yesenia. She covered her own to escape his death stare.
“C’mon!” yelled Hector, seeing headlights in the distance in the rearview mirror.
Jose took the license back from the trooper and ran back around and jumped inside, the tires throwing gravel as the black suburban sped out.
Having heard Yesenia’s screams and the gunshots, Silvia was now awake. All around her was chaos. Yesenia was moaning and nearly hyperventilating, the sound of the gun still ringing in her ears. Jose was staring out of the back window with a gun raised, and the suburban’s engine was being pushed to its max. “What happened?” Silvia tried to ask Yesenia, but got no response. Yesenia was crying now and held her hands over her mouth in shock. “What’s going on?” she asked Hector.
“Sit back and shut up!” Jose yelled. Silvia turned around and saw the trooper’s lights disappearing behind them as they sped away. “Is that the police?” she asked.
Jose whipped his left arm back and slapped her hard. “I said shut up!”
Silvia flinched in pain and withdrew to the corner of the rear bench seat. Tears welled up in her eyes from the sting and she rubbed her face. She still had no clue what had just transpired but didn’t dare speak another word.
They drove on in silence, speeding through the cover of darkness for miles before anyone spoke again. “They’ll be looking for us,” said Hector. “Did you have to kill him?”
“Yes, I had to kill him!” yelled Jose. “He smelled it and was going to call for backup.”
“How do you know?” asked Hector.
“I just know, okay. The way he put his head in then went right back for his car . . . I just know. Do you want to go to jail?”
“Now they’ll all be looking for us,” said Hector worriedly.
“Looking for who?” asked Jose. “They don’t have any information. He didn’t run the license.” As they always did, the two men had stolen the license plates on their vehicle from another early model suburban as a precaution before making the pickup. Soon the police would likely be breaking down the door of a very surprised individual.
“We still have to get off the highway.”
“There’s not much further to go,” said Jose. He pulled out a map from the glove box and turned on the dome light. “Just take the county roads ahead. We can take this one and get off the highway and it goes all the way down. Look.” He pointed to a line on the map.
“Ok, that will work,” said Hector. “But keep a look out. There’s going to be cops swarming around here pretty soon.”
A few miles later, just as Yesenia looked back and saw a speck of light flashing in the far distance, the suburban turned down a county road. She stared behind her as the black patch of highway began dwindling away. She imagined at any second she’d see a dozen police cars suddenly turn down the road speeding after them. Her eyes stayed glued to the road, her heart trying to decide if she wanted to see the police coming after them or not.
Border Crossings Page 5
