About this time, a woman and her two small sons entered, looking weary and frightened, certainly unfit for a difficult journey. Distracted by their arrival, we were startled when Señor José suddenly strode into the room and called us together. He wore a black tight-fitting T-shirt, jeans, and black athletic shoes. He was clean shaven, no mustache, and his dark hair was slicked back perfectly, not a hair out of place. His phone was now fastened in a case on his belt.
Just like during his phone call, he paced back and forth as he spoke. “Think of this journey in three stages. The first is getting across the border. Many of you have seen the steel fence,” he glanced around at each one of us. “Getting over or under or around it is not the problem. Not at all. It is the other barriers we need to fear—the underground sensors, the high-tech lights, and of course the Border Patrol itself. They are everywhere on the land and in the air. But if you do as I say, you have a very good chance of evading them. Once we make it across the border, the next stage is the trip from the border to the road where our vehicle will be waiting, and this will involve la migra possibly hiding like lizards behind every rock or flying like vultures above us. If we succeed there and make it to the vehicle, the final stage is transporting you to Phoenix, a big city where you can easily disappear and begin your new life.”
He stopped pacing and scanned the room again. “Okay, are we ready for instructions? Escuchen con atención.”
I doubt if any of us present could have listened more carefully than we already were. Even the smallest of children sat with eyes and mouths wide open.
“Wear dark clothing, black, brown, or dark blue—but not red. Wear two pair of pants—this will save your legs from cactus spines or scorpion stings—and of course wear only comfortable, sturdy shoes—not huaraches!”
I thought of Dolores dressed in red and of my precious brown shoes.
“If possible, carry at least two gallons of water, some canned food, and salted peanuts to help hold off dehydration. Now my first plan will not take us through that much of the desert, but if you get caught, if we have to abandon my first plan, I want you all prepared for the longer desert walk. This can be very dangerous if you are not careful. ¡Muy peligroso! The heat can be deadly.”
“What is the first plan?” an anxious voice asked.
“I do not like to give you too much detail up front. I never know where this information will end up. So, I will tell you each step along the way. However, if we are stopped by la migra, scatter. ¡Corran! Run in different directions. Do not all follow me! We cannot all hide behind the same bush.
“Next, be patient. Learn from nature. Sit tight, wait—out-wait la migra—and you just might make it. Now, if you are caught . . . remember you are all Mexican. Pick a state, a city. Know its fiestas, its patron saint, its local heroes, its soccer team. ¡Todo!”
Manuel glanced at me. We had already taught him everything about Oaxaca that we could think of, so he could pass as our brother.
Señor José paused and cleared his throat. “But chances are they will just drop you back here in Nogales. That’s the easiest and cheapest thing they can do. Then, we will begin again. It isn’t over. We try a different route. ¿Está claro? ¿Sí? Okay?”
Everyone nodded.
Then he added, “Now I don’t need to tell you how important it is to keep my name and this house confidential. There are not that many honest guides out there these days.”
The young woman who had just arrived spoke up. “Disculpe. When will I be able to speak with my husband in California?” Her youngest boy was sleeping in her arms; the other stared up at her with dazed eyes.
“When you get to the safe house in Phoenix. There you will all contact your families in the States and make final plans to join them.”
Rosa and I exchanged a glance.
“Well,” Señor José said with his hands on his hips, “be ready to go right at 10:00 p.m.”
I saw Rosa bless herself from the corner of my eye. Even Manuel seemed to bow his head in prayer. I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut. The first thing I saw was Papá’s face—and that was enough.
Math Problem #5
The temperature in the Arizona desert climbed to 47° Celsius.
Convert this to Fahrenheit.
The ground temperature is reported to be 140° Fahrenheit.
Convert this to Celsius.
10
Border of Crosses, Desert of Bones
Señor José pulled up in a van shortly after 10:00 p.m. When he swung open the side door, I was surprised to find that the back and middle seats had been removed. “Squeeze in the best you can,” he repeated as two or three squirmed in at a time.
We ended up sitting with our legs drawn up tight, four across, about four-deep with the children leaning on their mothers. We were jostled about for maybe an hour. The pungent smell of body odor left me nauseous and light-headed. Several people kept murmuring prayers, which may have comforted them, but only added a sense of foreboding for me. I wanted to scream for them to stop. I lowered my head between my knees but couldn’t breathe. I lifted my head and gulped some air. I turned to Rosa, whose eyes were comforting. We clasped hands.
The van began to slow and took a sharp turn at an upward angle. Those in the back began to moan as the rest of us
