Around the Wall

First published in Atherton Review, April 2021

“Hugo, what’s that on your face?” asks Daniel as he looks a little closer. Hugo sits upon the canvas bag he was sleeping on last night. Paz reaches over and peels the piece of rough fabric off his cheek. “Wow!” she responds. “You have a tattoo of this miserable place right on your cheek.” A small grid remains imprinted on his cheek. “It may be miserable, but it kept us alive another night,” Daniel proclaims so the rest can hear.

Paz sniffs the air, “Do you smell that…like damp fish.”

“Damp, fish? What is damp fish?” Hugo asks sarcastically. “Aren’t all fish wet?” he continues.

“But, it’s kind of old and crusty,” Daniel confirms. “The damp you smell could be the fog.” Slivers of soft grey light slip through the cracks of the rusty rooftop. The corners of the eaves are open as if the reinforcements rusted away from the edges of the dilapidated structure. This edifice could collapse any second.

Daniel points to the canvas bags, “And, those are probably the bags they use for distribution.”

One of the younger kids asks, “What is dee-stra-buh-shun?”

“Isn’t that how they send out the fish to the stores?” Paz asks Daniel.

“Si,” Daniel responds confidently. He is wearing a red and black flannel shirt with designs that resemble the imprint on Hugo’s cheek. He kicks open one of the doors to the back alley of the warehouse. The sprouts of black hair on his chin and cheekbones give him the authority to lead the caravanners. The group rushes out to see where they are.

Last night they fled the Ciudad de Tijuana and found this abandoned warehouse near the beach. Some of the teens file out into the alley when Daniel calls them back in, “Not yet, we must see where we are before we all go.” One of the youngsters in the group pleads, “I’m hungry. what are we doing for food, today?” Paz reaches over and puts her tranquil hand on him and says, “We got it: Daniel and I will go on a hunt, but I want you to collect those large, shimmering shells for me, and make a palapa with those canvas bags. When we are gone, others will know we survived and took refuge here in this abandoned fish cannery.” The child agrees and Paz walks over to Daniel.

“Hugo, keep an eye on everyone while Paz and I go look for food.”

“For sure, boss. I won’t let anybody out, and I’ll be on the lookout while you guys are gone.”

“Paz, come with me. Let’s go see what we can find across the alley by the beach.” She nods and follows Daniel. Paz’s normally long and lustrous black hair bounces with knots and tangles the size of her fists. Daniel remembers how her beautiful hair used to cascade down to the curve of her lower back before they began their trek to freedom and opportunity. The big knots in her hair reminds him of the ugly challenges and lost lives they have endured so far. He relishes those memories of playing in the coffee fields back home and chasing Paz down to the Lake Atitlan. They would swim in the water for hours and then raid the coffee plantations for bright red cherries and then dip them in his abuela’s mole sauce for fun. One day, Daniel took Paz to the butterfly grove nearby and kissed her on the lips. To this day, she hasn’t said whether they are boyfriend and girlfriend, but he has believed it ever since that day.

As the teens walk down the alley, Paz stops quietly, “Daniel, listen to

the calling of the waves. It sounds a little bit like Acapulco when we camped on the beach.”

“I know, I just couldn’t get Pilon out of my head since he fell from the truck on the highway.”

It has been three weeks since the caravan stopped in Acapulco along their journey. Daniel slows his speech, “Do you think those waves can show us the way? They are louder and more promising than those lapping wind waves in Lake Atitlan.” Paz smiles, “Yes, and we don’t have to hear the buzzing of fishing boats looking for bass. Follow me, Daniel, I see a light on in that silver shack near the dunes.” She clenches his hand and pulls him onto the damp sand, a much colder and more mysterious feel than the warm, granular grains in Acapulco. A tiny bit of blue light turns orange with rays breaking the horizon. “I smell coffee” Paz exclaims. “Follow your nose” Daniel encourages. They step up on a cement slab that goes for yards down the beach. Daniel takes the lead and walks up to the side of the tin shack. Paz shuffles beside him. Daniel peers his head into the front and notices two young men in their twenties. One has blond wavy hair and the other has black matted hair that appears to stick to his forehead. They hunch over a wooden cutting board and are chopping the heads off small baitfish. “Ahh, fish and coffee, I don’t know if they go together,” Paz laughs. Daniel gives a courtesy laugh and responds vehemently, “At this point, the gang would take fish in their coffee!” Paz’s brilliant white teeth show, “You’re right, patron! Let’s see if those guys can help us. They look like fishermen. Maybe they can be fishers of men…and women, of course?” “Good one,” Daniel replies.

Paz steps up to the outside counter, “Hola, can you guys spare some coffee and a pack of tortillas?” The boy with the black hair responds, “Oh, we open in fifteen minutes. What kind of bait would you like?” Daniel and Paz turn to each other for a brief second and then Paz replies, “We are not fishing this morning, we are looking for food and water for our crew. We got stranded here after escaping the Federales last night. Two of our friends got stabbed in Tijuana for taking grub from the food trucks. We tried to help them but the Federales showed up and we fled to this area.” The young man with the blond hair turns to Paz and stares into her eyes. He is allured with the golden hue around her iris’ and even with her messy hair and plain black sweater, her beauty radiates like beacons in the night to the young fishermen. “Wow, your eyes sparkle like the scales of a dorado!” Paz smiles. Daniel interrupts furiously, “Our gang is thirsty, hungry, and could use some tortillas. Could you guys spare a couple dozen or so?”

The boy with the black hair shakes his head side to side, “I am sorry, but my father would not approve of me giving away any food from the bait shack. You guys must go.”

“Wait one second, Thomas,” the blond man suggests. “Where are you guys headed?”

“Coronado del Rey” Paz answers.

Thomas says, “You mean San Diego, right? Taylor, I think she is talking about San Diego.”

Taylor shares, “I used to live specifically in Coronado Del Rey, there, when I was ten-years old. It is a beloved vacation place for kings and presidents. I loved it, I used to surf there every day and eat fish tacos and play volleyball on the beach. The waves are glassy there and the sunsets are amazing!”

Paz replies, “Sounds nice but we heard they have jobs there maintaining a very large estate. We need jobs for our crew.”

“Taylor, I think they are planning on crossing the wall at the border.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t blame them, I had many good times there.”

“Taylor, get back to cutting the bait and I will take care of them.”

Before Taylor walks back over to the chopping block, Paz bends over and reaches down into her sock. A brilliant tattoo of a monarch butterfly floats above her lower back like a hologram. Taylor and Thomas both gaze in amazement at the symbolic creature and marvel at the beautiful girl in their midst. Days and days of fishing have a way of beating the beauty right out of you, and this new visitor is a refreshing sight to see. Paz continues to reach deep into her grey sock and pulls out a large black pearl the size of a grape.

“Dios Mio!” Thomas cries. The others raise their eyebrows in wonder as well.

The boys pause for a second….

“If you guys take mi Novio and I, along with our gang across the border, I will give you this monstrous black pearl. It has to be worth at least fifty thousand pesos.”

Daniel lifts his chest, puts his arm around his confirmed girlfriend, and adds in, “and…por favor…can you throw in two dozen tortillas and anchovies so we can feed our crew. we have four others caravanning with us.” Sun rays break through the clouds announcing morning-time and Daniel welcomes it with a boost of confidence.

Thomas clenches a fish dagger and commands, “Hand over that pearl, or I’ll call the Federales!” Daniel shuffles his stance to turn toward Thomas while protecting Paz and asks Thomas an enterprising question, “Why would you do that when you can potentially have fifty thousand pesos and maybe even more if we tell you where the other pearls are after you help us across the wall?”

“You mean, around the wall” Taylor interjects. “Thomas, we are not thieves but fishermen, like your father taught us. We help provide sustenance and hope for the village. The sea is full of surprises and miracles happen every day right in front of our eyes. Can’t you see it? Don’t you want to be part of it?”

“But I can’t risk everything, my dad’s business, our jobs,” Thomas worries.

Taylor slides closer to the young couple and in between Thomas and them. “I will take them around the wall in the dinghy boat, so you don’t have to risk anything, and you can buy the bigger aluminum boat you always wanted with the money from that pearl.”

Thomas releases the fish dagger and relaxes his shoulders but comes up with more dubious questions. “How do you think you will motor them around the wall? Are you crazy?”

“I will cruise the path between the Mexican Navy ships and the San Diego border patrol.”

Thomas continues, “Both parties can see everything, and they will find you guys, they have radar and marine hovercraft boats all over the place.”

Taylor smiles, “but, there is a brief time where we stand a better chance—coffee time—during the thick fog between five and six a.m. and the shift change of night into day. It is June gloom weather now and we have Dios on our side.”

Paz opens the palm of her hand, exposing the glistening black and purple hue of the pearl. She considers the days, weeks, and months the oyster had to endure this abrasive grain of sand stuck in its soft tissue. How is it that this chronic irritation could create such beauty and pay-off at such a high rate? Maybe miracles can happen and in many mysterious ways, through suffering, opportunity, and faith. She hoped for this for her and the crew.

“Do we have a deal?” Paz entices.

Thomas leans against the wooden chopping board, takes a slow breath, and replies, “Ok, but you must tell me where the other pearls are now.”

Daniel asserts, “No, we will give you the pearl when we launch the boat for our escape and will tell Taylor where the other treasures are for his return. Then you can make plans to buy your own company.” Thomas’ eyes peer up as if dreaming up a big opportunity.

“Ok, Deal,” Thomas agrees.

“Meet us here early tomorrow at 5:00 a.m. sharp. I will have the boat ready with water, crackers, and life jackets,” Taylor assures.

Paz squeezes her palm, covering the valuable reward, and slides it back into her other sock. Daniel reminds Thomas of his extra request, “Oh, and could you still share with us with tortillas and anchovies? We would appreciate it.”

Thomas walks to the bait freezer and takes out two small bundles of frozen fish and two packs of tortillas.

“Gracias,” Daniel thanks him confidently.

Paz and Daniel walk back through the alley with the life-saving sustenance Taylor referred to earlier in their conversation. Daniel turns to Paz, “Mi mariposa, you never stop amazing me. I had no idea you found that incredible pearl. Where did you acquire that rare treasure?”

“On the beach in Acapulco, when I wanted to be alone with you. I took a walk to get away from the crew for a few minutes and found it in the sand near a tourist palapa down the beach.”

Paz nestles into Daniel’s arm, “I kept if for something special, and if this doesn’t qualify, I don’t know what does.”

“Well, this qualifies, and I am so happy you found it. Let’s get back to the crew and prepare them for the grand escape.”

The couple is greeted with eager faces and hungry mouths as the kids jump up and down when they see the food. Daniel asks Hugo, “Can you divvy up these tortillas and anchovies and make sure the others get a couple wraps each?” Hugo laughs, “Si, patron! Fish don’t last long before it goes bad.” Hugo parses them out for the gang. They place the anchovies in the sunlight shining through the rusty windows to thaw them out, then roll them up in tortillas and scarf them down quickly. Then, they find an old crusty faucet with running water and take turns drinking to wash down the salty brine from their fish wraps.

Paz eats with the other girls and Hugo approaches Daniel. “Hey Daniel, how was your time alone with Paz?” Hugo’s chubby cheeks wait in anticipation of exciting news. “It was an adventure, amigo. She called me her boyfriend right in front of the two fishermen.” Hugo’s dark, beady eyes open larger than Paz’s black pearl. “And, what next, boss? Did you kiss her?”

“No, it wasn’t the right time. We were in serious discussions about sustenance and escape!”

“Sounds exciting, Daniel”

“They are helping us escape, amigo! First thing tomorrow morning, we wake up and go on their boat into freedom!” Daniel shares the news with his friend and realizes he must lead effectively. He has an official girlfriend now and is the oldest and strongest. He must tell the whole gang, so they understand their part in the grand escape to America.

“Gather around everyone, we have a chance to get help to make it across the border. We must lie low here today and stay another night so we can get up early in the dark and get on a boat to cross the border into America.” All four youngsters lean in and listen. Paz puts her arm around the youngest girl. She anticipates the girl’s response, “But, I have never been on a boat, and I don’t know how to swim.”

“Don’t worry, prima, they have life jackets for us to keep us afloat if we have to go in the water, but we will be in the boat the whole way to San Diego.”

The other boy who built his palapa says, “I spent the last hour creating my beach shack, el Grande. Look, you guys like it?”

Hugo jumps in, “I want it, can I use it as a model to build my house when I get across the border?” The boy laughs and the gang returns to their spots in the cold cannery. The gang spends the rest of the day chatting about their mysterious future that lies in the hopeful hands of the fishermen they barely know.

The next morning the cannery crew wakes at 4:00 am to thick, brisk fog. Paz checks to make sure her prized pearl is still in her presence. Thankfully, it is, and she is relieved that they didn’t disclose where they were sheltering for the night. Daniel gathers the group and has them funnel through the alley out onto the cement slab near the dunes. As the remaining caravanners get close to the bait and tackle shop, Paz lifts her nose, “Smell that coffee, Daniel? Let’s get a cup for the ride if they let us.” They arrive at the silvery shop. It is beaded with thick condensation and permeates with the smell of sardines. Taylor is out in front with a wooden dinghy about twenty feet long and eight feet wide. He is wearing black board shorts and a grey Quicksilver T-shirt. The young girl that was worried about boats and swimming notices a blue shark imprinted on Taylor’s shirt; its jaws are wide open and jumping right off the shirt in a three-dimensional spiral. She asks Paz, “there aren’t sharks out here are there?”

“No worries, Nina, the big ones are way out by the Mexican navy ships. We only have baby ones here in the shallows.” Taylor chuckles and continues, “They nibble on my toes when I forget to clip my nails, ha, ha.” The whole gang laughs, and Taylor reaches into a cooler to grab a box of crackers and bottled water.

“Each of you gets your own bottled water and can chew on these saltine crackers if you want. Oh, and everyone goes to the bathroom in the back before boarding the S. S. Taylor.”

Thomas stands quietly under the tin roof by the shop. He watches Paz tend to the children and remains quiet for the time being. “Thomas, where are the black life preservers?” Taylor asks. “They are in the old wood tackle box in the back. Just don’t give them the orange ones or you may be spotted,” Thomas reminds Taylor. Taylor fits the black life preservers on the six caravanners and carries on preparing without wearing one himself.

Daniel asks Taylor, “How long of a boat ride is this to San Diego?” Well, it normally would be just twenty-five to thirty minutes, but I’m taking you north of Field State Beach which may take up to an hour, hour-and-half or so. We must navigate beyond the border patrol closer to shore and ride the buffer between the navy ships farther out to sea and the shoreline sand patrol. Once we make it to the safe zone north of there, you guys are free to head up to Coronado del Rey. I have a contact there for you who will help you guys with a place to stay and get settled.” Daniel’s eyes focus on curiosity. “Why are you being so nice to us, and risking your job for us?” Taylor replies with enthusiasm, “You are the brave ones. I would gladly help your gang find freedom—it is worth fighting for. How far have you traveled with your group?” Daniel’s head drops a bit, “from Guatemala and we lost four on the way.”

“My condolences. I will pray we deliver your crew safely and with hope!”

Thomas walks over to the boat near the shore, “May I have the pearl?”

Paz takes the pearl out of her pocket and hands it to Thomas, “Here you go. Thank you for helping us. Good luck on finding your new aluminum boat.”

He takes the pearl and walks back to his shop. Taylor motions to have everyone climb in the boat. He slowly tugs the boat, getting it afloat in the shallow water. “Jump in everyone, we must leave, it’s 4:45 am.” The four youngsters get in first, then Paz, and then Daniel. Daniel nods to Taylor that his group is ready to go.

As they motor over the waves and out past the breakers, Taylor warns them that they may have to hit the deck if they see any navy ships or border hovercraft. “If I motion down with both my hands, just hit the deck so other boats can’t see you guys, Ok?” The gang nods and listens with astute ears. “The idea here is to make it look like there are only one or two fishermen in the boat. Let’s say Daniel and I can be seen but the rest of you have to duck when any other vessels cruise by.” There are two paddles and a fishing rod stored under the rails of the boat. Taylor encourages Hugo to try the rod, “Hugo, get one of those anchovies out of the cooler, take the fishing rod, and hook it deep into the mouth… I’ll show you how to cast it.”

“Ooo, damp fish again,” Hugo chuckles. He takes the bait and places the hook from the rod and line into the anchovies’ mouth.

Taylor checks, “Looks good.” He swings the pole back, holding his finger on the rod and line, then releases. The dead baitfish flies above everyone’s head and lands out beyond the stern of the dinghy. “Let that bait ride, and we may get a hot tuna on the line.” Hugo’s eyes bounce as he laughs and watches in amazement.

Trolling north, and twenty minutes into the escape, Taylor glances right to gauge the location of the wall and border area. In contrast to the intimidating and highly enforced wall on land, a few hundred yards from the sea, the wall looks like nothing more than an ill-fated attempt to scare away swimmers, surfers, and random wanderers from crossing the imaginary border under the surface of the water. In Taylor’s mind, the sea is fair game and owned only by Dios on high. No human has the right to control lines at the bottom of the sandy sea. As a surfer and fisherman, he understands the universal truth that a sea is a place of freedom and open to all. Sharing it with these brave migrants makes him feel empowered and connected to the rest of the world.

“Daniel, mira!” Hugo shouts. Suddenly a brilliant golden fish about five-feet long jumps over the bow of the S. S. Taylor.

The skipper grabs the rod and hands it to Hugo, “Reel her in Hugo, we have a dorado-on” Hugo huffs and puffs as he reels the rod vigorously. The kids jump up and down with excitement cheering, “Vamos, primo, Vamos, primo!” After fifteen minutes of tugging, relaxing, and reeling, Hugo brings the dorado aboard. Shimmering hues of iridescent blues, greens, and gold float on the scales like a rainbow. Daniel glances at Paz and sees the resemblance in her eyes. Taylor was right, this fish is beautiful!

Taylor asks one of the younger boys to steer the boat while he begins gutting the fish for fresh sushi. “Keep your eyes open that way! And don’t turn right!” While Taylor is gutting the dorado, a huge shark jumps onto the stern about a foot from the motor.

The younger girl screams, “Tiburon, just like on Taylor’s shirt.”

Suddenly, Daniel reaches under the side rail, whisks out a paddle, and slaps the shark right on its nose. It dives back into the water and swims away.

Paz pulls the girl back and marvels at her long-time friend, “Mi novio, no puedo creerlo!”

Taylor smiles and exclaims, “Daniel, you saved the day! That was a mako, the fastest shark in the ocean.” The caravanners cheer in excitement. Taylor finishes carving up the dorado and serves slices of fresh sushi to the passengers. They are delighted with the sweet taste of the sea, so they snack on saltine crackers and drink the bottled water. Taylor glances right again and realizes he has officially made it around the wall but keeps it to himself. As he approaches the north end of Field State Beach, a hovercraft buzzes toward him smoothly across the surface of the San Diego shoreline. He motions for the passengers to duck and has Hugo act as a decoy, or rather, an experienced fisherman, now. The border patrol-craft cruises about thirty yards in front of them peering over to the S. S Taylor. Taylor nods and holds up their catch sort of showing off but indicating they were just fishing. The skipper of the patrol nods and the caravanners carry on north for another ten minutes.

“Okay, guys. I have a friend, Antonio, who is meeting us on the beach. He will take you guys to the estate of Coronado Del Rey and connect you with the groundskeeper there to see if he can help you find your contact and maybe even find work for you.” Taylor steers the boat closer to shore and docks in the sand near a small harbor. There is no border patrol in sight. They all climb out of the dinghy. Paz kisses Daniel on the lips and Hugo yells, “Ah, novio!” and the passengers walk with Taylor to the edge of the harbor. “Welcome to America!” Taylor exclaims. He introduces them to Antonio and returns to his boat. On his way back to Baja, he lifts his hand off the steering wheel and prays in Spanish: “Gracias, Dios Mio,” entirely forgetting to ask where the rest of the pearls are.