La Linea (10 page)

We scrambled down the ladder between the cars and ran toward a small group of buildings, away from the water tower, on the opposite side of the train.

“Here,” Javi wheezed. He pulled us behind a corrugated metal shed. We knelt and peeked through the ragged holes of the rusted-out walls. Javi sat cross-legged, coughed deeply, then spit black saliva on the ground. He stuffed his head into his arms to muffle two or three more coughs. In between coughs, he breathed heavily.

The gang dragged three young girls off the train, screaming and begging to be let go. They disappeared into the bushes on the far side of the water tower. Elena shrank down to the ground, pulled her cap down tight over her head, and hugged her knees.

“Come on, Elena, we've got to get back on. Come on. We'll miss the train,” I urged.

I grabbed her elbows, now locked firmly around her legs. I tugged, and Elena's whole body moved in response. She was a tight little ball of fear. Javi pushed himself to his feet. He pried one of Elena's hands loose from around her knees, held it in his callused palm, and gently straightened each stiff finger one by one.

“I won't let anything happen to you,” Javi huffed. “You'll make it across
la línea,
all the way north. I swear to you on my life.
Lo juro.
” We'd been quiet for many minutes, but he breathed as if he hadn't stopped running.

Elena said nothing, but she let Javi lead her by the hand back to the train and boost her up.

After that, Elena wouldn't take her eyes off Javi. She looked at him as if he held the secrets to the whole universe. I could read her mind: Javi had saved us—all of us—from Morales. He'd been right about how to hop the
mata gente.
He was right about the people from
el pueblito
with the food and about the train gangs.

And then, not half an hour later, the
mata gente
screeched to a halt. I leaned out to see why we'd stopped, yet again. Ahead, I saw the lowered bars of a railroad crossing, and stretched across the tracks, their weapons drawn, a cadre of soldiers with weapons.

“Jump!” Javi screamed. Elena hurried down the ladder and leaped onto the gravel by the track. I followed quickly, with Javi right behind. I landed squarely on both feet, but Javi cried out in pain the moment he hit the ground. I turned to see him roll in the dirt, grabbing his right ankle.

“Go on!” Javi's face was screwed up in agony. “Run! Get out of here!”

I looked up the tracks. The other train hoppers were scurrying down the sides of the train in swarms. Already I could see those at the front raising their arms above their heads in defeat. We were at the back of the train. There was a small chance we could escape.

Javi continued his pleas. “You have time. Go now!”

But Elena and I each grabbed one arm and pulled him up. “Lean on me!” I demanded.

We hobbled together toward a cornfield, and began to make our way down a row. At first all I could hear was the dim echo of the
mata gente
still roaring in my ears. But then I caught the sound of the soldiers running down the tracks, their boots crunching on the rocky railroad bed.

One yelled, “
¡El fil!
I saw some go into the field!”

We cut to the right. Every few steps, Javi pleaded with us to leave him. I got ready to surrender. If they caught us, if we had to go back home, Elena and I wouldn't do it all over again. As for Javi, he couldn't. He'd never make it.

Again we cut right, through the cornstalks grown higher than our heads. I couldn't see what lay beyond the field, but I led us in a diagonal direction, toward where I thought the field ended. Javi put as much weight as he could on his left foot to lessen our burden, but each time his right foot grazed the ground, he groaned. Elena and I half carried him, half dragged him. His body was solid and muscled and heavy.

Behind us, the soldiers crashed through the corn, cursing. We reached the edge of the field. To the left, a series of low hills rose quickly to a low peak covered in clouds. Bright green coffee plants covered the terraced ground as far as the eye could see.

In front of us, a dense tangle of vines appeared to lead into a thick grove of plantains. I pushed through the first layer, pulling the vines apart with my hands. I went back for Elena and Javier, then attacked the next layer in front of us. We had to bend down to get through. Javi crawled on his hands and knees. On the other side of the thicket of vines, we paused to catch our breath.

I looked behind us. “Shhh!” I cautioned to Javi and Elena.

We strained to hear our pursuers. We didn't move. We barely breathed. But there was no sound of the soldiers or the train.

“They've given up,” Javi whispered. “Incompetence … or laziness. We're not worth the effort. They probably got their quota, anyway.”

He sat up and pushed his bad right ankle out in front of him. He clenched his teeth, unlaced his boot, and teased it off his foot. It had been only minutes, but already the ankle was puffy.

Javi touched the ankle carefully with his forefinger. “I won't be able to walk on this for a couple of days, at least.”

He didn't look up at us. “You two need to go back the way we came. Get the next train that comes through,” Javi said quietly.

Javi wouldn't be able to help us now. In fact, he would be an obstacle. What should we do now? Should Elena and I go on, like Javi said? Who knew how long it might take for him to be well enough to travel?

And if we had to walk across the desert? Then what? He'd slow us down, for sure. Elena and I could hop back on the train and save the rest of our money.

Javi was right. It was time for Elena and me to go it alone again. It was the only way.

CHAPTER 22

“No!” Elena exclaimed. “I'm not leaving Javi!” She glared at me. She knew what I was thinking.

Elena's face was diesel-streaked, her short hair stuck out from her head in uneven, greasy spikes, her “boy” clothes hung torn and filthy from her skinny body. She put her dirty right index finger to her mouth and chewed at what was left of the nail.

The chances of me changing her mind were zero. She wouldn't leave Javier, not after the train gang.

“I'm going to see if I can find us some water,” I announced. I needed to get away. I needed to be alone, to think.

I grabbed Javi's water bottle and headed away from the little clearing toward a trail that disappeared into the forest. Thousands of birds sang and called in the forest canopy above my head, the first natural sounds I'd heard since the roar of the
mata gente
had filled my ears.

I finally found a small but swiftly moving stream. I filled the water bottle, drank deeply, filled it again, then collapsed on the pebbled bank.

What else could we do to get the rest of the way north? Try to find work? Hah! Doing what? Who would hire a couple of dirty teenagers or an old man, anyway? I couldn't get work even in San Jacinto where everyone knew me.

If we had to, we could beg. Yes, there was always begging. I tried to picture myself with my hand out or knocking on a stranger's door, eyes downcast, hunched over to look smaller. Even so, the most we could hope for from begging was a little food. Nobody around here had money to hand out. No, hopping back on the
mata gente
was our only real choice.

I trudged toward the clearing, one slow step at a time. How could I talk some sense into Elena? But before I broke through the brush, I heard the voices of strangers. The soldiers hadn't given up after all! They'd found us!

I crouched and peered through the branches. At first, all I could see was what seemed to be the back end of a burro and a pair of gnarled bare feet. I inched closer. These were no soldiers.

I pushed my way back through the thicket and stood next to Elena. In her hands was her little cloth bag. This time it had been cut open with Javi's knife. An old Indian man nodded slowly and tucked some of Elena's
pesos
away under his shirt. An old Indian woman, her silver braids swinging behind her, reached into a pack tied to the burro, took out a package, and handed it to Javi. Without a word, they plodded slowly away.

“We have a ride,” Javi announced. “Their Spanish isn't so good, but we managed. A
primo
drives a truck. He's going north tomorrow, and he'll let us ride in back.”

“How could you do this without talking to me first? We need every
peso,
you know that. How could you?” I demanded.

“I knew you'd say no. Besides, it's the only way we'll make it.” Elena stuck out her chin and crossed her arms.

I grabbed Elena's elbow and dragged her to the far side of the clearing.

“No, Elena,” I answered through clenched teeth. “It's the only way
he'll
make it. It's the only way Javier will make it.”

I stared at Javi. He started to open the packet of food. He tugged at the string around the package. He didn't look at me, or Elena.

“He's just using us, Elena.
¿No lo puedes ver? ¿Estás ciega?
He's only thinking what's best for him.
He
needs a ride.
We
don't.”

Elena probably thought she was being loyal, but Javi would leave us if he had to, wouldn't he? Wouldn't he do whatever he had to do, so he could make it for his family? Isn't that what a
real
father would do, put his own family first? Elena was just too young to understand.

“You just can't stand it, Miguel. You can't stand to have me be right. You're so used to Abuelita just thinking you're so great, that you can do no wrong. The money was mine, anyway. It was
mine.
Yours got stolen by Colmillo, remember?”

“
Cállate,
Elena. Why don't
you
see the truth for a change?” I snapped back.

Elena didn't back down. She looked me straight in the eye, just the way she looked at the goat before she hit it right on the head.

“Or better yet, ask
him
what to do!” I pointed at Javi. “You seem to think he has all the answers. Well, ask
him
how we get a
coyote
with no money! Ask
him
how we're going to get across the border!”

“I have to ask Javi, don't I? He saved us from Morales, didn't he? You didn't know how to get us on the
mata gente,
or about the train gangs. At least he got us a ride all the way to the border. You didn't
know
anything. You didn't
do
anything!”

Elena moved up closer. She was small, but she stood toe-to-toe with me.

“I used to lie awake at night in San Jacinto and pretend that Papá and Mamá came home to get us,” Elena went on, her voice quiet, but fierce. “Sometimes I even pretended they came home to stay.

“When I finally gave up on that, I pretended that you'd take me across
la línea.
You'd be the one, Miguel, you. I thought I could count on you.”

“Grow up, Elena.” Neither of us had moved. “Guess what? You want to hear something? Don Clemente told me he'd have sent us years ago to Papá and Mamá, but Papá wouldn't hear of it. He wouldn't take a
peso,
not even for us.”

Elena stepped back. She looked like I'd hit her full on, right in the mouth.

“You had to read Mamá's letters instead of having her there, right there, in front of you, all because of Papá's stupid pride.

“Do you get it, Elena? We never needed to wait. You never needed to pretend anything.”

She'd hurt me as much as she could. I'd just hurt her back, because
I
could, because I was tired of her, of Javi, of everything—because I was tired of carrying the big load Don Clemente had dumped on me about Papá.

I turned away from my sister and picked up my backpack. Elena didn't think she needed me. Any idea I'd had about us being a team had vanished.

CHAPTER 23

“I don't believe you, Miguel. You're just saying that about Papá, just to make me feel bad.” Elena moved again in front of me.

“Mamá wouldn't have let that happen. She wouldn't have.” Elena spoke to herself then, not to me, as if she was trying to convince herself it was true. Mamá was
her
savior, just as I'd always thought Papá was mine.

“Believe what you want. Do what you want, Elena,” I finally said. “You always do, anyway.”

I could give in to Javi and Elena's plan. It was two against one. She looked up to Javi. She trusted him, like a
tío
or godfather, maybe even a father. All we had left now was part of Juanito's money. Javi would probably find a reason to use the rest of it up, and Elena would just go along with him. Well, not me.

I began to walk away, back into the forest. “Go with Javi. I'm hopping back on the train, tomorrow if I can. Maybe I'll see you at the border. Or California.”

Elena's face fell. “Miguel, I didn't mean—,” she began.

I cut her off. “If you change your mind, I'll be camped close to the train tracks.”

I found my way back to the stream. I bent and started to wash the first layer of diesel stink and grime from the train off my body. I used the small pebbles from the bottom of the stream to scrub my skin. I smelled my hands and wrinkled my nose. I stunk. Even if I had soap, I couldn't get rid of the
mata gente.
It had gone too deep, to a place nothing could clean.

I tried to see my reflection in a small pool at the edge of the stream. But a breeze sent a series of ripples across the surface. My eyes looked crossed and my nose ran into my mouth. My face looked like a dozen different puzzle pieces. No matter which way I moved my head, the pieces wouldn't fit together. If I ever made it across
la línea,
I probably wouldn't even know myself.