Emiliano, think of Linda. What if she’s still alive? Think of the danger your sister is in. This is no time to be selfish, son.
“You have no right to preach to me about selfishness.”
Emiliano doesn’t mean to speak out loud, but he does. He reaches for his fake Bible, opens it, looks at the money, and then closes it. Linda gave the Bible to him for his fourteenth birthday. But her best present was the one she gave him last year, a week before she disappeared.
Emiliano gets on his knees, opens the left-hand drawer of his desk, and takes out his Swiss Army knife. How did Linda know he wanted the one with the small compass on the handle? He sits against the wall again and moves the compass around until the needle points north. She gave it to him at the very end of a surprise party that Sara orchestrated with Paco’s help. He remembers the delight on Linda’s face after he opened the box and looked up at her. It was perfect. Another perfect gift. How long did she save before she could afford to buy him the knife?
You see how Linda thought about you, Emiliano. Shouldn’t you think about her now?
Emiliano tucks the knife in his pocket. There must be a way to make sure that Sara is safe and still salvage the life opening up in front of him. Sara says that Mami is calling Aunt Tencha in León, which means that Mami is asking Aunt Tencha if they can go live with her. But Sara and Mami won’t have jobs, and what his father sends is not enough, so they’ll need him to work. He will have to convince them that the money he brings in from his folk art business is the only way to survive, which means he will need to stay in Juárez. He won’t tell them about Alfredo Reyes.
Why, Emiliano? Think about why you won’t tell them. There’s a reason why you’re ashamed of your association with Mr. Reyes.
Emiliano goes out to the kitchen, where he dropped his backpack when Sara hugged him. He gets his cell phone, comes back to his room, and sits on the floor again. There is comfort down here that cannot be found higher up. He places the cell phone next to him and closes his eyes. He has to make this conversation count. He goes over in his mind what he is going to say. My sister is in trouble. Someone is threatening her life on account of something she wrote about the Desaparecidas. I need to be with her, make sure she’s safe. Something like that.
He taps Perla Rubi’s name on his phone.
Perla Rubi picks up on the first ring. “Emiliano! I was hoping it was you. Are you home?”
The sound of her voice, her concern for him, rips his heart. “I’m home.”
“How was your day?”
“Good. Very good.” Up until a few minutes ago.
“You never told me what you were going to do after you left me. How did you spend the afternoon?”
“No? I thought I did when I saw you this morning. I was following up on the business with your father’s friend. And you? How was the game?”
“We lost.”
“You lost? To Sacred Heart? How did that happen?”
“I missed four serves. Two went into the net and two out of bounds. The girls blamed you.”
“Me?”
“For showing up before the game and rattling me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. I think I spent most of the day thinking about you, about us.” Her voice is almost shy.
That right there, that joy he just felt, is what is being taken away from him. There is no avoiding it. “Perla Rubi, something’s come up. With my sister, Sara.”
“What? You’re scaring me. Is she okay?”
He’s not going to be able to hold it together for too long. This has to be a short conversation.
“I can’t talk right now. My sister’s life has been threatened because of her work at El Sol. We’re trying to figure out what to do … so that she’s safe. I’m not sure I’ll be in school on Monday. I might be out for a few days.”
“Oh, Emiliano. What will you do?”
“We’ll be all right. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“Okay. But where will you be?”
“I don’t know right now.”
“I can talk to my father. He can help.”
“I think it’s better if he’s not involved. The people who are threatening Sara are bad people. Tell your father I talked to Armando Cortázar, the son of his client, and that I’m going to follow his advice.”
“Be careful,” she says with tenderness.
“I will.”
“Good-bye, Emiliano Zapata.”
“Good-bye, Perla Rubi Esmeralda.”
Emiliano places the cell phone on his lap. He reaches up, turns off the light to his room, and then curls up on the floor, his hands over his ears.
Sara goes around her room opening drawers, staring at the contents, closing them. Does she pack for two days or for a lifetime? On the other side of the thin wall that separates their rooms, she can hear Mami’s voice. She can’t make out what she’s saying, but the urgent tone tells her that the conversation with Aunt Tencha is more than just a request for prayers.
Three years ago, when it became certain that Papá was not going to return, Aunt Tencha pleaded with Mami to move to León, where they could all live with her. Aunt Tencha is a widow. Her daughter, Gracia, lives in Mexico City and her older son in Monterrey. Mami could get a job in one of the many shoe factories of Léon, and there was a three-bedroom apartment for rent in Aunt Tencha’s building. But Mami said no. Emiliano had his school, and the Jiparis were just bringing him back to life. Sara had her internship at El Sol, which they hoped would become a permanent job after she graduated. They have never regretted the decision, but it looks like they might end up in León anyway. Sara tries to remember what the city is like. She was twelve the last time she visited with Mami.
Suddenly, the door opens and Mami rushes in. She holds out Sara’s cell phone. “It started ringing as soon as I hung up. I hit the little green phone and heard a voice. It’s Ernesto from work. He says he needs to speak to you right away.”
Sara takes the phone from Mami, who stands next to her, an anxious look on her face.
“Ernesto?”
“Sara, you and your family have to get out of your house right now!”
“What?”
Ernesto is breathing hard, as if he’s running. “I checked Juana’s activity on her computer from my terminal just as I was leaving. She sent an e-mail to that ‘jeremias’ address—you know, the one on the threatening e-mail. She told them you took the phone and gave them your address. Lupita must have told her you opened the drawer. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that people are on their way to kill you. Go. Run! I have to hide too.”
Sara has the sensation of falling, as if an unknown trapdoor has suddenly opened beneath her feet. “Ernesto …” she manages to say.
“I don’t think I can make it to your house to pick up the phone. I’m going to give you a secure e-mail address where you can contact me. Find a way to e-mail me there at three p.m. tomorrow. Do you have pen and paper?”
She writes the e-mail address that he gives her on the white envelope with the phone.
“Bye, Sara. Be safe. Don’t use your cell phone anymore. They can track your calls.” He hangs up.