by VC Andrews
Everyone was busy with his or her own things when I returned. I went up to my room to see if there was anything I should take along with me tomorrow. When I looked at my old clothes, I decided tomorrow I would wear the dress I was wearing when I had first arrived. I chose the best shoes for walking on the desert floor, and then I listened carefully at my doorway, waiting to hear Sophia leave her room. She often went downstairs to get a soda or some cookies before she went to sleep. This night, however, she wasn’t coming out.
Without the bracelet, I would not be able to get back to Mexico, I thought. What would I do? It was getting later and later. She could go to sleep, and I might not be able to get to the bracelet in the morning. An idea came to me, and I looked at myself in the vanity mirror. Was I capable of being the person Tía Isabela accused me of being? Did I have enough of her in me after all? Could I do unto them as they had done unto me?
I sucked in my breath and tightened myself like a gladiator going to battle. You can do this, Delia Yebarra, I told myself. You can do this. Then I stared at myself until I was able to bring tears to my eyes, turned, and walked out of my room. I crossed the hallway and knocked softly on Sophia’s door.
“What?” she shouted.
I opened the door slowly, my head down, and entered.
“What do you want?” she snapped.
I lifted my head, wiped a tear from my cheek, and made my lips tremble.
“What is it now?” she asked, annoyed. She was on her bed, her phone receiver in her hand. “I was about to call someone, so make it quick,” she ordered. “Well?”
“I am sorry, Sophia,” I said.
“Sorry? About what?” she asked suspiciously.
“About not being your friend when you were being a friend to me. I am sorry I did not tell the story as you wanted it to be told,” I said.
She stared at me. I lowered my head, and she hung up the receiver.
“I’m glad you realize it. I told you it would be better for all of us,” she said.
I nodded. “Yes, I see. I am in so much trouble.”
“Oh, you’re not in so much trouble,” she said, waving her hand. “You heard Web, our lawyer.”
“No, I will go to school tomorrow, and my classmates will know everything, and they will think I am no longer wanted in this house. More rumors will spread, and everything will get very, very bad.”
“That’s nuts,” she said. She sat up.
“I will do anything to be your friend again,” I said. “Please.”
“I should be angry at you forever,” she replied. She looked at me and thought a moment. Then she nodded and smiled. “Maybe it would be better if we took you with us this weekend. I’d like you to tell some people what Bradley did to you.”
“Yes,” I said. “We should tell.”
“I’m glad you finally realize that, too. All right. I’ll let you hang out with us again.”
“Thank you, Sophia.”
“Just remember not to say anything stupid.”
“Yes, sí.”
“I’m going to call someone now,” she said. “You can go back to your room.”
“Would you…maybe…so my classmates don’t think you don’t like me…let me wear the bracelet tomorrow?”
She stared. I lowered my eyes, but I could see her smile.
“You are getting smarter,” she said. “Okay, but now you’re just borrowing it until I feel you deserve it.”
“Thank you, Sophia.”
She got up, went to her jewelry box on the vanity table, and plucked it out. The way she looked at it, I thought she would change her mind, but she extended her hand, and I hurried to take it. She didn’t let go. She held on to it.
“You’d better behave,” she said.
“Sí. We will be friends.”
“Maybe,” she said, and let go.
“Gracias, Sophia.”
“Don’t speak Spanish whenever you can say the English words. That’s an order,” she told me.
“Yes, thank you.”
I flashed a smile and turned away.
“Be careful about what you tell anyone from now on,” she warned when I reached the door.
“Yes, I will be careful.”
She smirked at me, and I left her room, closing the door softly behind me.
Then I let out the trapped breath I was holding.
I can be Tía Isabela, I thought. I should have been happy about it, because I had the bracelet, but I couldn’t help being disappointed in myself as well. I could play with the devil, too. I comforted myself by repeating something I had read and heard my father say. Engañar al engañador no es una deshonra. To deceive the deceiver is not a dishonor. Liars deserve to be lied to, I thought, and returned to my room, far too excited even to imagine falling asleep.
Sophia was back to having breakfast in her room the following morning. Inez hurried to deliver it. Edward joined me at the table. He was nervous about returning to school, too nervous to notice my nervousness. He was going to wear a patch over his bad eye for a while, and he still had the evidence of abrasions on his face, especially his chin, so he anticipated having to tell his story repeatedly. I wished him luck, and he smiled and told me not to worry.
“After this bad time passes, I’ll make sure you’re happier here, Delia,” he said.
He does not know his own mother, I thought. She would not let this bad time pass so easily. Her threats still hovered over my head. Nevertheless, I thanked him. Jesse came for him, and they left before I did. I met Señor Garman at the Rolls and told him I had to remain in school an extra hour to make up for time missed. I could see he wasn’t happy about it, but he said nothing.
When I arrived, I saw the school was still electric with chatter about Ignacio and his friends. I could feel all eyes following me through the corridor, and as soon as I entered the classroom, my fellow students, especially Mata, whose father had been playing at the fiesta, looked surprised to see me return. Señorita Holt did her best to keep us concentrating on the work. She said nothing, nor did she ask me anything about the events. To keep anyone from suspecting anything, I worked very hard.
During the lunch hour, many students left the school building to buy a sandwich or a hamburger at one of the nearby fast-food restaurants. It was more fun than eating in a school cafeteria, and when they were away from the building, they could smoke. This would give me an excuse to leave the school as well. I tried to be as unnoticeable as possible leaving the building. Some students saw me, however, and threw questions at me, even sarcastic remarks. I pretended not to understand, and they grew bored and went their own way. When I felt I was no longer the center of anyone’s attention, I walked quickly in the opposite direction and waited for the next bus at the bus stop down the street.
I was close enough to the school to hear the bells ringing to alert the students that lunch hour was nearly over. The bus was taking forever, and I was afraid that Señorita Holt would immediately report that I was missing. Before the final bell rang, however, the bus appeared. Because of the hour, there were few passengers riding, but I went all the way to the rear of the bus and practically disappeared behind the next-to-last seat, hovering closely to the window and watching all the stops carefully. It took more than an hour to get to the stop Ignacio had described. I practically leaped across seats to get off.
It was another day of unusual heat. Temperatures were hovering a good ten to fifteen degrees above what was normal for this time of year. The walk I had to make seemed very long to me because of that. I tried moving as quickly as I could, terrified that Ignacio would leave before I had arrived. I wasn’t sure if he had realized how long the bus ride would take and how long the walking would be.
Suddenly, I was troubled by the possibility that he had given me the wrong directions and the wrong time deliberately, just so I would be unable to go with him. When I didn’t see the fence he had described, I began to panic. I broke into a run and then finally saw it ahead. Relieved that at least this
much was true, I slowed and walked the remaining way to the opening he had described. I saw the small house behind the one on the street, too. I looked about to be sure no one was watching me, and then I slipped through the fence opening and walked quickly toward the house. Just before I reached it, Ignacio stepped out from the rear.
He did not look happy to see me.
“I was hoping you would not come,” he said. “I have never made such a journey, but I have heard many terrible stories, Delia. I have been told that this man, this coyote, will leave us if we do not keep up or either you or I get hurt. There are drug smugglers and bandits, and with this heat”—he looked up as if the high temperature was falling around us like rain drops—“it means we will have to travel nights, maybe as much as three days, depending on what we have to avoid and what route the coyote takes.”
“I am not afraid, Ignacio.”
“Then there are snakes and scorpions.”
“I am not afraid,” I said more firmly.
He nodded.
I extended my arm. “Here is the bracelet.”
He shook his head. “This is all happening because I have done a terrible thing, me and my temper,” he muttered. “Come inside. I am not even confident that the driver that my father’s friend is sending will show up. He might have gotten frightened. If he is caught transporting me, he could go to jail.”
We entered the small house through the kitchen. He had prepared two knapsacks for us. They were both filled with jugs of water.
“This is sweto,” he said, “water mixed with electrolytes to help us fight off dehydration.” He had some energy bars as well.
I nodded and smiled, but he did not smile. “Don’t think of this as an adventure or a walk in the park, Delia. Many, many people die crossing this way. Some are not found until they are nothing but bones. They don’t have identification, so their families never know they have died and wait forever to hear from them. Real coyotes eat them.”
“Stop trying to scare me, Ignacio.”
“I’m not trying to scare you. I am telling you this so you will not be surprised at anything and you understand the risks, Delia.”
“I want to go home, to Mexico,” I insisted.
He looked at my determined face and nodded. “When my father finds out I have taken you with me, he will be so angry the sun won’t need to come out. He’ll burn bright enough to light the day,” he said.
“And when I’m back home, my grandmother and I will write to him, and he will cool down so much it will snow here.”
Ignacio finally laughed.
Then I heard the sound of a baby’s cry. Surprised, I looked through the doorway into the living room and saw a woman holding an infant. She gazed at me and looked very upset.
“That’s my father’s friend’s wife, Silvia. She was not in favor of her husband hiding me, and now with you here, she is very annoyed. Don’t try to talk to her,” he warned. “Come with me.”
He led me through another door to a small room, where there was a cot on which he had obviously been sleeping.
“We’ll wait here,” he said, looking out the window. He checked his watch. “He should be here within the hour if he comes.”
“What if he doesn’t come?”
“Then you’ll go back, and I’ll take my chances walking and hitching.”
Finally, I knew I looked frightened.
He smiled at me.
“What?”
“When I first saw you, met you, and you told me who you were and where you were living, I thought you were just one of those spoiled rich girls, or if you weren’t, you would be one soon, and you would not look my way. And now here you are, willing to risk your life with me to get back to what?”
“Happiness,” I said.
He laughed. “Happiness? Expect to see dozens and dozens of people heading in the opposite direction and looking at the two of us as if we were crazy. They might think we are mules.”
“Mules?”
“People who carry drugs for drug pushers returning to Mexico to get a new delivery.”
“How do you know so much about this sort of thing, Ignacio?”
“When you work with some of our people on the landscaping, you hear stories.” He grew almost angry. “That is why you should think twice, Delia. No matter how bad things are here, they can’t be as bad as they will be if you return to Mexico.”
“Believe me, they are,” I said.
He stared a moment and then looked out the window. “He’s here,” he said. “Come on, then.”
We returned to the kitchen to pick up the knapsacks and walked out to meet the driver his father’s friend had sent. His name was Escobar. Before he could complain about me, Ignacio handed him three hundred-dollar bills.
“For her ticket on the van,” he said.
“These are not the arrangements that have been made with the guide,” Escobar told him.
“We’ll take care of that when we get there.”
“Suit yourself. Get in the van quickly,” Escobar said, opening the rear doors.
Ignacio got in first and extended his hand for me but held it back just a little.
“This could be your last chance, Delia.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going,” I said, and he seized my hand firmly.
I got into the van, and Escobar closed the door. We sat on the floor. It was already very hot, with the van’s engine off and no air conditioning.
“This is nothing,” Ignacio said, seeing me wipe my brow, “compared to what’s coming.”
“You might as well save your strength for the journey, Ignacio. I will not change my mind.”
He nodded, and then we heard Escobar open the door and get into the van. He looked back at us.
“It’s a very long trip,” he warned. “Is it wise to take her?”
“Yes,” I said, answering for Ignacio.
Escobar shrugged, started the engine, and slowly drove out of the yard. The van bounced hard onto the road, and he sped up. When we reached the freeway, Escobar turned on his radio, and at least we had music. Ignacio stared at me. His face finally seemed to relax, his eyes warming.
“What is it?” I asked.
“For me, it’s like I’ve been joined by an angel,” he said.
I did not feel like an angel. I felt like a fugitive, but for his sake and perhaps my own, I smiled and lowered my head to his strong shoulder. I was tired from not sleeping much the night before, but I didn’t want him to know how tired. Nevertheless, my eyes closed. I pictured Abuela Anabela, at first surprised and angry and then filled with happiness. Once again, we would sleep in the same room and say our prayers together. The simple life that had seemed so poor and difficult now looked like the promised land Ignacio thought we were leaving. The music, the drone of the tires on the highway, the bounce in the van as it rolled on composed themselves into a lullaby. In minutes, I was fast asleep.
Ignacio did not want us to eat or drink anything from our knapsacks. Escobar, tired of driving himself, pulled into a roadside fast-food restaurant after three hours. I had slept nearly all the way, and Ignacio had fallen asleep as well.
“We can stop here to get something and go to the bathroom,” Escobar told us.
I went directly to the bathroom and washed my face and neck in cold water. Then I came out and ordered a chicken sandwich with fries. We drank lemonades and ate at a corner table. No one paid any particular attention to us. Escobar checked his watch and told us we were on time, but we would have to go all the way without stopping now. We left, and he filled the gas tank before we drove back to the freeway.
It was dark by the time we reached Tucson. We could see the city lights. It was the biggest city I had been in at night, and the illumination both fascinated and frightened me. Escobar made some turns and finally came to a stop on a dark street in front of what looked like an auto body shop. Ignacio started to get up.
“Wait,” Escobar said. “Let me see first.” He got out and walked to th
e shop door. It was barely lit inside. He looked through the window, then turned and looked around. Whoever we were to meet was obviously not in there.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Ignacio said.
We saw what looked like a flash of car headlights, and then Escobar walked down the street to a dark automobile. He stood by it and spoke with the driver. After a few more moments, he returned to the van.
“He says his name is Pancho. He is not happy about your bringing the girl. He wants double. I don’t like him,” Escobar added.
“He’s all we have,” Ignacio said.
“Don’t trust him,” Escobar warned. “What will you do about the money?”
“Give me the bracelet,” Ignacio told me, and I undid it and handed it to him. “Let me speak with him.”
He got out of the van, and they went to the car. I could not see the man called Pancho, but Ignacio was talking and showing him Sophia’s bracelet. There was more discussion, and then Escobar returned, opened the door, and told me to come out.
I got out and joined Ignacio.
“Get in,” Pancho told us.
“You can go back with Escobar,” Ignacio said. “This is really your last chance.”
“Let’s get in. We’re wasting time,” I said as an answer.
He nodded, opened the door for me, and got in after me.
Escobar got back into the van, started it up, and drove off.
“This is not a walk in the park,” Pancho said. I had barely seen his face, but he looked thin, with a sharp nose and a mouth that looked like a slice cut in his face. His black hair was straggly, down over his ears and down the back of his neck.
“A walk in a park does not cost as much,” Ignacio replied.
Pancho grunted, started his engine, and drove away. We wound through city streets to a highway with the number 86, and then he sped up. He did not play the radio, nor did he speak until he turned off the highway into what looked like bushes. They parted, and we were on a hard dirt pathway just wide enough for the car. My heart was pounding. How did we know he wasn’t simply going to rob us and leave us out there? I could see the worry in Ignacio’s face as well. After all, despite his bravado, this was his first illegal crossing, too.
