Misplaced (22 page)

“Swi
m
a
s
fas
t
a
s
yo
u
can,
”
h
e
panted
,
“an
d
promis
e
m
e
you
won’
t
loo
k
back.
”
H
e
smile
d
w
eakl
y
an
d
ga
v
e
th
e
tub
e
a
big
push. “Modesto will
w
ait...”

She
cra
w
led
up
the
deserted
ri
v
erbank
thinking
P
apí
would
b
e
righ
t
behin
d
her
,
bu
t
h
e
w
a
s
gone
.
O
n
th
e
opposit
e
side,
truck
s
dro
v
e
int
o
th
e
clearing
,
thei
r
headlight
s
turnin
g
night
int
o
day
.
Th
e
patc
h
o
f
gras
s
wher
e
thei
r
picni
c
basket
s
had
been
now
s
w
armed
with
police.
From
across
the
narrow
ri
v
er,
V
ictoria
w
atched
one
of
them
grab
her
mothe
r
’s
arms,
twisting
them
behind
her
until
she
dropped
to
her
knees,
sobbing.
She
hear
d
th
e
v
eno
m
i
n
th
e
agent’
s
voice
,
an
d
he
r
entir
e
bod
y
shook
with fear.

“
W
e
kno
w
you’
v
e
bee
n
aidin
g
thes
e
enemie
s
o
f
the
go
v
ernment.
Now
you
’
ll
get
what
you
deser
v
e,
señora.
Maybe
I
’
l
l
e
v
e
n
gi
v
e
yo
u
s
o
m
ethin
g
m
ore,
”
h
e
c
hu
c
kle
d
,
s
queezing
the
front
of
her
skirt
and
grinding
his
hips
into
hers.
“
A
child
and
a
husband
in
the
same
day.
Què
lastìma
;
this
needn’t
ha
v
e
happened
.
Don’
t
worry
,
though
.
Wher
e
you
’
r
e
going
,
you
wouldn’t ha
v
e seen them any
w
ay.”

Unti
l
tha
t
night
,
V
ictoria’
s
wors
t
fea
r
ha
d
bee
n
tha
t
P
anchito,
her dog, might get hit by a car.

The
Modesto
family
reached
the
opposite
side
of
the
ri
v
er
ahead
of
her
and
v
anished;
men
in
trucks
took
her
mother
and
som
e
o
f
th
e
o
ther
s
a
w
ay
.
V
i
c
tori
a
w
an
d
ere
d
th
e
bank
,
s
ear
c
hing
the fast-moving
w
ater for
P
apí.

A
t
sunrise,
she
crept
close
to
the
w
ater
for
a
better
look.
In
the
grass
behind
her,
something
mo
v
ed.
Giant
arms
lifted
her,
kicking
and
screaming,
desperate
to
stay
in
the
place
she
had
last seen her family.

Ot
he
r
t
ha
n
t
h
e
b
lan
k
e
t
t
he
y
wrappe
d
aroun
d
her
,
which
reeked
of
desperation,
s
w
eat,
and
urine,
V
ictoria
didn’t
recall
much
about
the
ride
to
the
detention
center.
In
a
cell
with
other
mojados
,
she
refused
to
eat
or
speak
and
pressed
herself
into
a
corner,
trying
to
disappear.
In
the
middle
of
the
day,
they
w
ere
force
d
outsid
e
t
o
w
al
k
i
n
a
chaine
d
enclosur
e
wher
e
sh
e
sa
w
the
only reminder that she
w
as still ali
v
e—the sky.

Ofte
n
sh
e
couldn’
t
understan
d
anythin
g
th
e
Anglo
immigratio
n
officer
s
said
;
othe
r
times
,
the
y
spok
e
perfect
Spanis
h
an
d
aske
d
he
r
name
,
wher
e
he
r
famil
y
li
v
ed
,
an
d
if
she
knew
of
relati
v
es
living
in
the
United
States.
She
did
not.
A
woman
claimed
the
eighty
ear-old
as
her
daughter,
insisting
tha
t
a
t
th
e
tim
e
o
f
he
r
family’
s
unfortunat
e
capture
,
the
y
w
er
e
o
n
thei
r
w
a
y
t
o
mee
t
he
r
America
n
father
.
Sh
e
grasped
V
ictoria’s hand and patted
her with rough, unfamiliar strokes.

I
n
a
n
offic
e
wit
h
dra
b
gree
n
w
alls
,
a
n
office
r
questioned
them
further.
“
Y
ou
don’t
favor
your
mother,
do
you?
No,
your
feature
s
ar
e
completel
y
different
.
Y
o
u
w
er
e
tra
v
elin
g
t
o
se
e
your
father, is that right?”