Emiliano tries to order his thoughts, but they keep jumping around. He will take Sara across the border. What will he say to Perla Rubi? In a few hours he will call Brother Patricio and together they will start planning the journey. He’ll get Sara across and return. Thank goodness he had enough sense to grab his Jipari backpack. He’s got his compass, knife, first aid kit, sunglasses, hat, flashlight, lighter, and other desert survival tools. He remembered to get his boots. That was fortunate. Brother Patricio will get the other things they’ll need to make the trip: hiking shoes for Sara, two-gallon water bags, and, of course, maps. Sara’s shoes have to be a perfect fit, otherwise she’ll get blisters. There won’t be any time to break them in slowly.
He makes an effort to slow down his thoughts, to point them all in one direction. What will he do when he comes back? He must find a way to live in Juárez. The decision to work with Alfredo Reyes has been made, and there’s no need to question it yet again. Maybe he can live with Armando. No, that’s probably not a good idea. Nothing has changed. He needs to keep his association with Armando and Reyes at a minimum, and he and Javier will keep the whole criminal enterprise under control. Criminal enterprise. Is that what it is? It’s a business. He’ll make it work somehow. Do what is best for everyone, Perla Rubi says. That’s what he will do. Just because he doesn’t know the details doesn’t mean he can’t make it happen. One step at a time. When you’re walking in the desert, the step in front of you is the only one that demands your attention.
He’ll take Sara across and then come back. That’s the plan. With any luck he won’t have to see his father. What would he say to him if he saw him? Maybe he’ll remind him of the promises he made before he left for the United States—the food truck, their working together, his return.
“You promised,” Emiliano says to himself.
“Emiliano, go to sleep,” Sara tells him from the bunk below.
Sleep finally subdues Emiliano’s churning mind just as daylight filters through the blinds. When he wakes up, the apartment is hot and his mother and Sara are at the small table by the stove, drinking coffee and quietly conversing. Emiliano strains to hear what they are saying.
“Do you need to call Luisa to tell her you’re not coming to work?” Sara asks her mother.
“I’m sure she’s found out what happened. I know Felita Lozano, and I’m pretty sure she’s called everyone by now. The person I want to talk to is Mrs. Rivera. The house was destroyed, from what you tell me. She’s been good to us. Waiting for us when we couldn’t pay the rent. I have to tell her I will pay her back for the damages. She’ll have to move out all our furniture, and that will be an expense as well.”
Emiliano gets up, crosses the room, and kisses his mother on the top of her head. It’s his way of apologizing for yelling at her yesterday. “I need to call Brother Patricio,” he says.
“I’ll call Estela and ask her if he can come over. I need to find out about Linda. You might want to take a shower in the meantime.” Sara pinches her nose.
“Sara took a shower this morning,” Mamá says before Emiliano can respond. “She says there’s hot water and little bottles of shampoo like in a hotel. We’re all lucky to be alive, even if we’re smelly.”
“It’s Sunday. Brother Patricio is busy with Mass. Maybe I can see him this afternoon.”
“We can meet him at Café Rojos. Remember, Estela told us about it.”
“Sara, say the rosary with me while Emiliano calls Brother Patricio. If we can’t go to Mass today, at least we can pray here,” Mamá says.
Emiliano waits until he hears Sara and his mother praying. Then he stands in front of the kitchen window, with his back to his sister and mother, and calls Brother Patricio.
“Emiliano! I’m so glad you called.” Emiliano appreciates the warmth in the brother’s voice. “Paco told me about the attack on your house last night. Are you all right? Is your sister all right? Your mother?”
“We’re all fine. We’re hiding in a safe place. Brother, this is important. No one must know what I’m about to tell you. You’re the only person other than my mother, my sister, and me who will know this. My mother is going to León to live with her sister, but she wants Sara and me to go to Chicago.”
“Chicago? That’s where—”
“Yup, you got it. There’s no changing her mind. She’s set on us going.”
“But how—”
“We need to find a way across the Rio Grande and through the desert to a place where he can meet up with us. I was thinking of that park next to the Rio Grande. The one we thought of visiting with the Jiparis, before we found out how difficult it was to get visas.”
“Big Bend National Park.”
“Sara and I could follow one of those abandoned trails like regular visitors. Then … he could meet us somewhere in the park.”
“It’s okay to call him Papá. He is your father.”
“Not right now, Brother, please.”
“Okay. I’m sure there are Border Patrol checkpoints on the roads leading in and out of the park. Your father would need to meet you somewhere beyond those checkpoints. You’re looking at some hard walking. Many immigrants have perished making that kind of long-distance crossing.”
“Yeah, but it will be different for us. We’ll be prepared. It was August when we took that plane ride. It’s not so hot now. But we need to move fast. Every day the temperature goes up. We should leave tomorrow.” Emiliano thinks for a minute. “I need maps and as much information as you can get me about the location of those Border Patrol checkpoints. We need to find a good place for … my father to meet us. Sara and I need clothes and desert supplies. I’ll make a list, but you’ll know better than I do. I’m going to go to a café that rents computers and do as much research as I can, but we can’t do this without you. Can you meet me later today?” He pauses. “What? Why are you laughing?”
“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at what you and your family must be going through. It’s just that after all the years of my urging you to reconcile with your father, God’s found a way for it to happen. You have to admit it is ironic, to say the least.”
“There’s nothing ironic about this, whatever that means. And there won’t be any reconciling. You going to help us or not?”
Brother Patricio sighs. “Of course I will help you. But there must be some other way out of this predicament. You know the politics in the United States right now. People are talking about walls and electric fences with enough voltage to fry a human being. The Border Patrol has sensors on the ground that can detect movement. An illegal crossing is not the best option. Surely, your sister would qualify for asylum. She’s being persecuted by the government of her country, for goodness sake. If that’s not what asylum is for, then I don’t know what is. One of my brothers in El Paso helps people with immigration …”
“No. You can’t tell anyone.”
“I will ask about the asylum process without mentioning any names.”
“Can you meet at us Café Rojos this afternoon? It’s near the Estadio Olímpico.”