“And you don’t?”
“What do I have?”
“A better life.” It was the only thing Sabrina wanted for him. It was the only promise she had ever asked Omar to keep. Even when he had finally come home, his sister had asked nothing of him but to help her look out for her baby. Eduardo had been barely a year old then, and Omar felt tainted next to his innocence. He’d told Sabrina where he had been the last ten years, unable to explain more beyond his charge and his sentence, and she had interrupted him and said, “You didn’t do it. I can see it in your eyes you didn’t do it.”
He could feel in his heart that Eduardo wouldn’t keep going, and it scared him more than the tracks screaming beneath them.
“What can I do?” he asked.
Eduardo pushed a stone off the side of the car with his foot. “Nothing. You said so yourself. When we get to the border, I’m on my own.”
“That’s because I already missed that train. I can’t go back. But you have to keep going forward.”
“See? That’s what I mean. You were there. You had a life and a family and everything and you still ended up back here. What’s the point?”
There’d been a time when Omar had asked himself this same question. He was nearing the tenth year of his sentence, and he was convinced that the only good thing about life was that it ended. In the weeks before he would be freed, he would daydream about who he might pick a fight with, who might kill him the fastest, if he just asked for it.
And then Martin came to visit. His only son. He was grown, and he was strong and healthy and he had such conviction in his eyes. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t talk to him, because Omar had never felt prouder. Here was the man Elda had raised: his son, who was decent and good and had found him.
“Want to know my secret?”
Eduardo wiped at his eyes and nodded.
“There is no point. Life is shit, but it’s fucking beautiful.”
He made him promise never to tell. He said there was no other person alive who knew his story. “I’m trusting you, got it?”
“Got it.”
He told Eduardo all of it. The happiness and the pain, the regrets and the moments he would never change. There was no need to whisper, because the roar of the train swallowed everything.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book would not have come to fruition without the unwavering support and encouragement of its first readers: Demery Bader-Saye, Everlee Cotnam, Kate Cotnam, and Barbara Sparrow. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart; may all writers find friends as true and advocates as fierce as you.
My endless gratitude to ire’ne lara silva, Kendall Miller, and Alex Layman for their guidance and insights along the way. To my agent, Laura Dail, who made me believe this book could really happen, and then made it happen. Thank you for seeing something special here, and telling me so. To my editor, Vivian Lee, for seeing and hearing and embracing this story. I am so incredibly lucky it landed in your caring hands. To Maggie Sivon and the entire team at Little A, I cannot thank you enough for all the hard work you’ve put into my books. Thank you also to Ginger Everhart and Callie Stoker-Graham, without whom I would not feel 100 percent confident that this sentence is grammatically correct.
I’d like to thank Adriana Dinis, Carlos Betancourt, Marialy Gonzalez, and Elvia Ramirez, who took the time to share the nuances of their work with me. Words cannot express how much I admire your tireless dedication to the immigrant community, as well as your kindness and compassion. To Nora de Hoyos Comstock: thank you for bringing us comadres together and always, always amplifying our voices. And to all who know what it is to leave your home in search of another: may you find a world of open arms and hearts. To those who shared their stories with me: I am grateful for you and your bravery. I am grateful you are here.
I began writing this novel on a warm November first on the second floor of the Faulk Central Library. I still remember looking over the stairwell as I thought of the very first line. Thank you to Austin Public Library for providing harbor for the imaginations of readers and writers alike.
They say writers will always be writing about the same things, in one way or another. This is true—even when I don’t realize it, every word I write is in honor of and made possible by my family. My parents, Ceci and Ramon, sacrificed so much for the life they dared imagine for my sister and me. Ceci, thank you for being my hero in more ways than I’ll probably ever know. Ramon, thank you for always believing I could do this, even (and especially) before I did. My sister, Ursula, never failed to nurture and encourage my desire to write, even in the crucial beginning when, as a timid teenager, I’d drop a poem in her lap and run out of the room, desperate for validation and approval. Thank you for giving me this and more.
Muchísimas gracias también to my amazing in-laws. Rey and Kathleen, your unconditional support never escapes me; it is a rock, and I’m forever grateful. To Odalis; I cherish you, your loving wisdom, and our heart-to-hearts so very, very much.
I wrote this book mostly in the early morning hours, and I don’t know how, but Maggie always knew exactly when to wake me, and Pita always knew when to crawl onto my lap. So much love and so much thanks for these two little ones.
And Eric! You are always there to remind me of all the reasons not to give up, until I have no choice but to quote Carrie Fisher: “You’re right, you’re right. I know you’re right.” Thank you for this love and this life, and for every day I get to create more of it with you.
And finally, to every person reading (and this far, too!); I am so honored and grateful for the time you’ve given these words.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2017 Eric Sylvester
Born in Lima, Peru, Natalia Sylvester came to the United States at age four. As a child, she lived in Florida and the Rio Grande Valley in Texas before her family set down roots in Miami, where she received a BA in creative writing from the University of Miami. A former magazine editor, Natalia now works as a freelance writer in Texas and is a faculty member of the low-residency MFA program at Regis University. Her articles have appeared in Latina magazine, in Writer’s Digest, in the Austin American-Statesman, and on NBCLatino.com. Natalia’s debut novel, Chasing the Sun, was named the Best Debut Book of 2014 by Latinidad, and was chosen as a Book of the Month by the National Latino Book Club.
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