Watching the rise and fall of his shoulders as he lay beside me, I thought of the words he’d spoken: “I feel my life belongs with you, too.” He felt the same in his heart as I did! I reached out and softly stroked the back of his neck. He stirred, then immediately turned and took me in his arms, kissing me deeply. I clutched him fiercely, devouring his tongue. One week? One month? One year? What would tomorrow bring? Would I lose him like Papá? A strange hunger possessed me. I kissed and kissed and kissed him, but it wasn’t enough. When Manuel’s hands moved over my body, I yearned for more. I listened for Rosa; her breaths stayed even and deep. I sighed and lay back, letting him touch me in places that made me gasp.
Moments later, when he entered me gently, I felt a jolt of pain, but as we rocked lightly, making as little noise as possible, I began to feel a pleasure that warmed me from within, confirming the source of a mystery I had only imagined.
When we woke, Rosa was already up and anxious to leave the shack. What she thought of our tangled bodies was impossible to know, but as she stepped out the door, she kept her eyes averted and simply said, “Come on, vámonos. If we’re going to do this, let’s get going!”
Manuel and I got ourselves together without a word, but when our eyes met, I felt a burst of joy and tenderness that he seemed to feel as well. When he reached out and touched my cheek, I turned and kissed his hand.
Joining Rosa, we walked in silence in the direction of the border fence. She kept a few paces ahead, so I couldn’t read her face at all. The set of her shoulders implied business, and soon I settled into the same rhythm until all thoughts of the night before were floating somewhere beyond—yet within reach.
We checked out a spot where a wooden ladder had been nailed to the fence’s mid-section. While this area was watched closely, we were told that many families with children had managed to scale the wall and elude officials. It was all a matter of luck and timing.
Some distance away, we noticed a group of young boys gathered around a fire in a metal trash can. One boy held a plastic bag to his face and then passed it to the boy beside him.
Manuel, startled, watched them for a minute and then said, “Wait here,” as he turned and approached the group. Two boys immediately came up to him, their palms turned up. Manuel shook his head. He spoke to them for a few minutes and then moved on toward the can, covering his nose with his hand. The two boys followed close behind him, making me nervous. I took a few steps in their direction.
A putrid smell hit my nose immediately, making me gag. I turned back toward Rosa. “Oh my God, what is that smell?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t like this,” Rosa said, her eyes on Manuel who was surrounded now by the boys. But to our relief, he simply pushed his way through them and headed back.
Soon they were immersed in watching the flames again.
I ran up to Manuel, braving the stench. “What is that smell? What are they burning?” I asked.
“You don’t want to know,” he answered, glancing back. “Just a few pathetic drogos inhaling glue. I thought for a minute that one of them was . . . little Chuy.” His frown tugged at my heart. He had spoken of Chuy and Benito throughout our travels, wondering and worrying.
Rosa touched his arm and said, “Maybe they made it this time. Or maybe they just went back home to Guatemala.”
“There was no home for them there,” he sighed.
A howl went up from the group of boys as one of them flung something in the air. Rigid and charred, the object smoked as it fell to the ground with a thud.
“What was it?” I whispered.
Manuel paused and then said, “Un gato. A cat.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Rosa said, and turning her back on the boys, she walked quickly toward the wall. “Where’s the next spot?”
We headed a couple kilometers further to a stretch of wall with horizontal slats that could be scaled with some care. Because of this, a second wall was being built to replace it, but not all sections had been completed yet. This seemed to us a better bet than the one with the ladder, where Border Patrol kept a closer eye. Once over, it would be maybe half a day’s walk to civilization—nothing like our previous nightmare.
We walked along it for several minutes, running our hands over the slats and gazing up at its height. It was imposing, but doable. Maybe twice my size.
“You’re sure they said it’s been done during the day?” I asked.
Manuel shrugged, “They said day or night, es lo mismo. The same. Some make it, some don’t. There are advantages and disadvantages to both.”
Rosa turned and actually grinned at me. “At least we can see the snakes during the day!” But her eyes were not smiling.
We debated if we should wait until twilight, but Rosa seemed anxious to get this final attempt behind us. I wondered if a part of her was hoping to be caught and done with it. At least she was willing to try. I agreed, and we turned to the wall.
Manuel smoothly climbed to the top, glanced over the side and around, then lifting his leg over, he straddled it like a tree limb and motioned to us.
“You go first,” Rosa whispered. “Tengo miedo. I’ll see how you do it.”
“Don’t be afraid.
