Delia’s Crossing (33 page)

“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 the 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.

Pancho drove as far as he could with his lights off and then bragged about it.

“I have saved you a day’s walking. No other coyote knows the way I know. When you are back in Mexico and others want to come to the United States, you tell them about me,” he said.

“We will,” Ignacio said.

“I will park here,” Pancho said. “We will begin our walk now and we will walk all night until we reach a cave, where we will sleep most of the day before continuing. We must keep up the pace, but when I tell you to stop, you stop, and you must do very little talking. The border patrol will be out there, and there are bandits just waiting for fools. You were told how much water to bring. You have enough for both of you? Because I don’t have any extra.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t gulp it away the first hour. I have turned back fools that quickly,” he said.

“You won’t turn us back,” Ignacio told him.

“We’ll see,” he said. “Let’s go.”

He got out, and we got out. He stood for a moment listening, and then he started to walk straight into the darkness, not looking back to see if we were following. Ignacio took my hand, and we caught up with him. It amazed me that Pancho knew exactly where to put his feet in the darkness, but he did.

We walked for hours without talking. My feet began to ache. I stumbled many times, but I did not complain. I was positive I heard a rattlesnake very close on our right, but either Ignacio and Pancho didn’t hear it, or they didn’t want to admit to hearing it. Nevertheless, Pancho warned us not to wander too far to the right or the left, and I wasn’t about to disagree.

Once he paused and held up his hand, and we waited and listened. I could hear voices off to our left. They were speaking in Spanish. Pancho whispered that this close to the end of the trail,
pollos
—chickens, as the aliens were called—would be stupid to be talking. He said that meant they were police. We stood absolutely still until the voices drifted off, and then we walked on.

The ache in my feet and my legs grew worse, and even though it was cooler, being night, I was growing very thirsty. I was afraid to ask for a drink. I had no idea how long we had been walking. Except for the occasional sound of an owl or the howl of a coyote off in the distance, it was deathly quiet. Above us, the stars were bright and dazzling, with no artificial light to drown out their wonderful glory and promise. The heavens knew no boundaries. There were no borders to cross. The world should be the same way, I thought.

Pancho paused to look at his watch. I was surprised when he said we had been walking for four and a half hours and, by his estimate, at least twelve miles. Neither Ignacio nor I knew enough about it to agree or disagree.

“There is still a good four to five hours of night,” Pancho said. “If we keep up our pace, we’ll reach my cave before daybreak. Take your first drink of water,” he ordered, and we did. He told us to go to the bathroom now if we had to, because we would stop only to avoid bandits or patrols, although he thought we were far enough from the border of the United States now. I was very frightened about going into the bushes. I could think only about upsetting a sleeping rattlesnake, but there was little choice. I knew if I didn’t go, I’d suffer for hours.

As soon as we were all done, we marched on. Most of the time, I was able to hold on to Ignacio’s hand, but there were narrow passages between rocks and down steep inclines that made it easier and safer for us to go separately, usually with me right behind him, keeping my hand on his waist for balance. Pancho spoke very little and only when it was necessary to give us warnings and directions. I couldn’t help but wonder about such a man who made his living sneaking people through the night. In the van, when I had asked Ignacio about it, he told me smuggling illegal aliens had become a very big business. He said his father told him it was all controlled by syndicates and that the coyotes actually worked for someone bigger and more powerful. That was why he was confident that Pancho would take my bracelet. He wouldn’t have to report it.

It did frighten me to hear about this. I knew something about the people who suffocated in vans and trucks, who died of dehydration trying to cross the desert. There were always stories about this relative or that, but here I was diving into a sea of sharks myself. How angry Abuela Anabela would be, I thought, but the promise of what would come afterward was too strong to let anything dissuade me. I would go on. I would go home.

Because we were young and strong, perhaps, we arrived at Pancho’s cave faster than he said he had anticipated. He complimented us on keeping up with him. The cave itself was not large, but it was an opening in a hill of rocks well hidden by bushes. He said that because it faced north, it would be cool even during the unusually hot spring day. He went in first to be sure no rattlesnakes had decided the same thing.

“It’s okay,” he said, coming out.

We crawled into the flattest places and fixed the ground the best we could with some brush to make ourselves comfortable. We drank some more water, and Ignacio and I ate one of our energy bars. Then we cuddled. Pancho curled up across from us.

“Usually, you would see and hear many
pollos
tonight,” he said. “It’s a good time to cross in from Mexico, but as I told you, my route, my way, is my secret, and most don’t know how to zigzag about as I do. You are lucky. You are getting across cheaply.”

“I don’t feel lucky,” I muttered.

He heard me. “I don’t ask people why they want to go here or there. Usually, I don’t want to know too much, but why are you returning? You are not into the drugs, or you wouldn’t need me.”

“We are both unhappy away from home,” Ignacio told him.

He laughed. “I don’t care. I was only passing the time. I have learned many things from the desert, one of the most important being that survival makes liars of us all. Remember this,
mis pollos,
the desert doesn’t care if you are good or bad. It will eat you up no matter what.”

He closed his eyes and squirmed a bit to get comfortable. I was so tired I was sure I would fall asleep quickly, even on the hard ground.

“How are you?” Ignacio whispered, his lips close to my ear.

“I’m okay.”

“You are much braver than any girl I have known.”

“My grandmother used to say, ‘
Solamente los valientes tienen miedo.
’ Only the brave have fear. She told me that often when I had nightmares and cried. Fear makes you cautious, and caution keeps you alive, she said. Don’t be afraid to be afraid.”

“No wonder you want so much to return. She is a wise woman. She taught you well.”

“And I have more to learn from her,” I said.

“Yes.” I saw him smile in the budding light of dawn. We kissed, and he held me tighter for a moment. “I was without hope until you forced yourself on me, Delia Yebarra.”

“Forced myself?”

“Well, maybe I was a little bit easier to convince than I pretended.”

I almost laughed aloud but remembered Pancho’s warnings about keeping as quiet as possible. So, instead, I smiled and kissed him again. I am not afraid anymore, I thought. Soon after, safe in each other’s arms, we fell asleep.

It was the sound of laughter that woke me. I looked up at the grinning faces of two bearded men, both with teeth missing, one holding a machete, crouching to stand in the cave entrance.