The Ballad of El Inmigrante

I felt a dainty hand squeeze mine gently.

“Daddy how much longer?”

I looked down at Marisol, her tired brown eyes pleading that the line end. I felt my face tightening, Can't let her see. I stood on my toes to get my head above the older women in front of us. The line of people seemed endless. I sighed in defeat, but only to myself. I had no power to move a hundred people. My heart dropped. I tried to lift it back up before looking at my daughter to answer.

“Want me to carry you a while?”

Marisol's little head leaned against my leg. She dragged out a, “noo…I’m okay”

“Okay, let me know amor, hopefully not too much longer. Before we know it, we will be home making carne asada!” I shook her hand trying to inject her with some sort of hope.

Food runs would pop up here and there along with refugee camps, some fueled by donations from the Red Cross. There were few official ones that the government allowed however. Luckily this one was a government sanctioned one, and even more luckily this one was close to our village.

I'd like to imagine that instead of being in a bread line, we were in a line on Black Friday, and I was about to get an obnoxiously large TV that would piss off my lady. I could feel the smile creeping across my face, though it was interrupted by the angry rumbling from my stomach. Crazy to think people used to kill each other over things like that, now we kill each other over toothbrushes.

I glanced around for Cora, the line at the porta-potties had to be almost as long as the food line. Butterflies danced with my hunger at the thought of her being unable to find us. Even though it hadn't been that long, time goes by slower when standing in a line of starving people. After a few more minutes of people watching, I heard a familiar voice.

“Alex?”

“Alex?” I turned around to see Cora searching through the crowd. I waived to get her attention. Pulling aside her bangs she cracked a smile walking to us.

“We thought you fell in.”

“Haa haa haa, very funny.” She said feigning a laugh. “I see that you guys are making progress.”

I realized we had moved maybe twenty feet, if that. Anything for some decent rations. I remember playing thumb war with Marisol while time crept by in the smoldering sun.

A couple of security guards spiritlessly strolled up and down the lines. Rumor had it they would pick people they knew to jump the line. Not much we could do about that; though I remember joking with Cora,

“Hey, show them some leg and maybe we can jump ahead.” There was an eye roll in return, I'm sure of it.

Murmuring went through the line as two large cargo trucks drove by. I remember seeing a grungy looking guy in shades riding in the truck bed as it passed. He wore a strange smirk on his face. The trucks hissed to a stop, engines rumbling just in eye shot from where we stood.

Cora leaned down to Marisol, “see these guys have brought more food so the line can move faster now.” Marisol did a celebratory clap.

There was an excited energy reverberating through the crowd, we indeed stepped forward several steps. While we moved, I kept my eyes on the trucks. I couldn't take my eyes off them. I didn't have the same optimistic feeling as my wife for some reason, what else is new? Over the mix of voices in the crowd, I could now make out shocked ones and yelling from by the trucks.

“What's going on? Can you see anything?” Cora whispered in my ear. I started to pull my head back to answer when I jumped in shock.

POPPOP POPPOP!

A burst of what probably was an AK-47 went off. The crowd moved like a tsunami with people ducking, or jumping in shock as I did.

There were several yells, and the high shrill screams of women in the mass of people. I scooped up Marisol, and turned away from the gunshots smothering her with my body and grabbing Cora by the hand.

“Come on, we gotta get out of here!”

We ran weaving through people. I remember knocking over a small child; I paused for a second to see if they were okay but we couldn't stop. Cora's fingers dug into my hand.

Bodies went everywhere in the chaos. We ran and ran until we were both heaving. I felt the sweat dripping from me onto Marisol mixing with her tears on my dirty shirt.

We paused, my heart pounded, almost in unison with Marisol's against my chest. I'll never forget the dust that was kicked up from the crowd as we ran, watching the stampede of people run,

“Alex?”

I will never forget the-

“Alex,hey?”

“Hey pendejo!” A booming voice yelled.

I was shocked from my daydream. Or was it a day nightmare? My head jerked at the Coyote who yelled at me.

He lowered his gaze to meet mine, “get back in line prick, you wanna get caught by border patrol?”

I could tell under his obnoxiously large beard, he was frowning at me. Out of the three coyotes he was the worst. He looked like one of those characters from that old show Duck Dynasty. With his tan tacti-cool gear. He seemed to view us as just a product, or cattle. Plus I didn't like how he looked at Cora..

Though he was right I had moved away from the line and was almost out from the cover of the tree line.

I came back by Cora and Marisol’s side as she was eating a protein bar.

“Sheesh Alex, you trying to get shot? Woulda' thought you never went on a long, forced march before.”

Even though she was half serious, my ears grew warm. She did have a point. Past me would shake his head at the now me, the fresh out of the military past me that is.

Marisol scolded me as well, “yeah come on daddy.” I smiled at that.

We walked past the coyote,

“Do that again, and we may lose you.” He said with air quotes.

I said nothing but let my eyes do the talking.

Looking back it's hard to remember where everything fell apart. There was some big things, some little. I guess if you really think about it; it couldn't have been just one thing. I remember the thought crossing my mind many times.

Like when the crazies stormed the capitol, and the election was contested. Then soon thereafter being overturned. There were the first protests, which eventually turned into violent crackdowns, and eventually martial law.

All sides blamed each other, the only constant was misinformation, and we were told to only trust what the president said. I did. Though only for a little while; and the president said that the country's ills were from the people who didn't vote for him. Despite everything, we still thought everything would be okay, somehow. The frog doesn't know it's boiling if you boil slowly.

These events echoed in my head as one foot moved in front of the other, we had been walking for days in the baking sun. It was hard to tell how far we had traveled because the endless rolling hills and shrubs looked like the last endless rolling hills and shrubs.

The coyotes keep saying that we are getting close to the border; for what that's worth. Maybe a better measure of distance was the tired look on my wife Cora's face. Her usually straight hair was tied into a bandana, looking wild and frizzy with the constant sand stricken wind. Or yet a better measure of distance might be the tracks of the tears on my daughters face, tracks that have since dried up. Both forms of measurement suck either way, and probably aren’t very accurate.

We were falling somewhat behind our group, which was initially a group of twelve or so. When we left our village the group was much larger. Sometimes you would just look up and notice one less person; and if you fell behind, well that was your problem.

Rumors and pro government propaganda were all over the place regarding the process to seek asylum. I had heard from one guy that warned us about coyotes that would ransom us to family members, and if they didn't pay they would pull off different body parts until someone did.

Great pre-migration talk, though I guess it's good to be prepared mentally for anything. Hopefully it didn't come to that. Especially since we didn't have anyone in particular to pay our hypothetical ransom. We were it. I wonder what would happen in that case, if we have no one.

Would they just kill us out of spite?

As horrifying as all these thoughts were, it was better than the alternative back home. That word, “home” I guess does not apply to us so much anymore.Our home was now among the tired, the sick, and the poor. Who are walking for any plethora of reasons. Seeking asylum, that one includes us. Jobs, survival, freedom, something better.

We came from all walks of life.There was a butcher, a couple that were factory workers. Some that worked on farms, and more than a few who were just fleeing with no plan. That part may have included us as well. My thoughts paused as I heard the sound of my daughters dragging feet.

“Honey? You want me to carry you for a little while?”

Marisol looked up at me, nodding tiredly,“Thirsty.” She said with a rasp in her throat.

I opened up my canteen, and knelt down to her. “Okay drink up, though don't drink too much we have to make it stretch until we get to the river.”

She glugged away, and I lifted her up into my arms. Cora looked back at me with a weak smile as we caught up to one another. Her smile, It felt like this happened already, déjà vu.

The march continued for some miles, until the coyotes told us to stop. We all grouped up, to rest and catch up on fluids. The antsy vibe of the coyotes made me think there was more to this stop than a simple rest. I observed as a eagle hovvered over our group.

“Somethings wrong,'' I whispered to Cora.

I started toward the two coyotes. They were having a very animated discussion in Spanglish. They gestured to everyone to keep moving. With this we continued humping along the hills and byways somewhere along the Rio Bravo.

It was soon passed through word of mouth down the caravan to be quiet up ahead. I saw why. Strange black clouds billowed above the plains. We neared it cautiously.

We crawled our way to the top of a hill, In the charred clearing beneath us I squinted to see the remnants of a battle. There were numerous trucks, and lightly armored vehicles burnt beyond recognition. The land itself bore many scars from gunfire. I could make out human shapes laying sporadically around the scene. According to the coyote the only safe way would be to walk through it, for on our left there was the flooded river, and then on our right possible border patrol, or whoever won this battle. I carried Marisol in my arms trying to cover her eyes from what I was sure we would see.

“Close your eyes baby.”

I walked past a burnt out humvee. Inside it, watching with empty sockets was a man melted to the stearing column. I did not keep eye contact long.

The thick smoke filled my lungs; with it came the smell of diesel fuel, gun powder, and rotting bodies. I could hear someone coughing from either the smoke, or stench. Cora walked next to me holding her hand over her mouth and nose.

There was a clinking beneath my feet, I looked down to see hundreds of spent shell casings of what looked like 5.56 rounds. When we seemed to be clear I told Marisol she could open her eyes again.

‘What was it daddy?”

“Just scary things honey, I don't want you to have more nightmares.”

“It stunk! It stunk like when you cook dinner.” I couldn't help but smile at her innocence. Or what was left of it.

To our right emerged a deep crater. Marisol turned her head I heard a gasp.

I turned to see, and before she could scream I covered her mouth pulling her face tight to my chest. The smell was unbearable. In the crater was maybe a hundred bodies, stacked on top of eachother, some in line. I fought back the urge to gag. There were numerous birds, pecking at the bodies. The sound of flies buzzed like a drill around us. I could see many of them had been shot in the head.

Execution style.

Up came beardo next to me. We attempted to go around him, but he blocked my path.

He spoke almost to the bodies. “I wonder who they voted for.”

He looked at me out of the side of his eyes with some type of accusation in them. I glared daggers back at him as I consoled Marisol.

“Yeah it doesn't matter now does it?”

“Matters to some I guess.” He said, cocking his head to the side.

“Yeah, not to me, both sides could end up killing us all.”

He seemed to ignore that, and I could see where this was going.

“So who did y'all vote for?” He said with a smile.

This was a question that had become the bane of my existence, and one I was too familiar with.

Mrs.Hernandez was always nice. Nice in a way that made her seem like she was putting on some kind of act. Your classic matriarch; who would make cookies for the kids and let them come over to swim in her pool in the summers.

Her husband had died some years back, and so she shared that love with everyone she could.

At the start of the collapse, or maybe it was the middle of it, we used to catch up along our fences and chat while we both did yard work. Crazy to think about that now. I didn't know it then but I was doing yard work during basically the fall of everything. Pandemics aside, overthrow of democracy aside, roving gangs aside. Everyone, including me, just wanted things to be “normal.” Whatever the fuck that was.

I remember us gossiping, and talking about current events. The latest was the gangs that would come around asking people questions; and how more and more people happened to go missing. Not murdered but missing. You never knew what side they were supposedly on, but I had a hunch.

One day when I was doing yard work, I saw a group of men leaving Mrs.Hernandez’ house. I ran right over.

Her home was a small bungalow style house, adorned by a charming yellow door, which suited her. Her door was left ajar, I remember softly knocking, and nudging it open, as I called out her name. Fearing the worst I was relieved to see her slumped over, sitting alive on the couch. Alive but her demeanor looked very defeated.

“Marjorie?” I asked, I couldn't tell if she noticed me or not. She seemed to be in a 1000 yard stare, “Mrs.Hernandez?” Slowly she looked up at me.

“They asked me.”

“Asked you what?”

“Who I voted for. I lied, but…they said the voting records showed different.”

Shit these psychos had access to that?

“I threatened to call the police,and… one said he was police.”

“He even showed me a badge. Malditos.” She said as she grimaced.

We sat in silence for a while before she asked If I wanted some tea.

She went missing a few days after that.

It wasn't long after, when I got a knock at my door. Cora was in the kitchen making lunch for Marisol and I. In the paneled window above my door I could see at least three heads standing outside. I held my Glock 19 behind my back hip as I opened the door a jar.

“Can I help you?”

I was greeted by an overly cheery smile and clean shaven white man. Maybe mid 40s. The other two were very burly looking, both in light tactical gear, with full mag carriers. One watched the street, the other stood with a thin smile on his face as well.

“Yes, yes I believe you can! How are you doing today so far?” He snapped his fingers once as if he forgot this pleasantry.

“I'm just splendid, what can I do for you gentleman? You selling girl scout cookies or something?”

He nodded with the same strong smile. “Ha ha, no, no, no cookies for sale here. Although, we were looking to see if you maybe interested in joining our scouts so to speak.”

“So you guys are scouts then?” I said sarcastically. I could see the other two getting a little impatient.

Smileys, smile contracted some, but his glacial colored eyes kept the same glow. There was something behind them.

“Well, we were in the neighborhood and we were looking for people who wanted protection, or who wanted to assist our group in said security services. There's food and supplies we share.”

“Nah, I'm okay, I think we are fine thanks, good luck in your searchs; really wish we could do more.” I started to close the door but he managed to put his boot in between blocking it. I stared down at his boot for more than a moment to make a point, and met his eyes.

“Well ya see we are in need of talent, people with skills to help rebuild the world, scary place out there.” He said with a shake of his head.

“Terrible” I agreed.

“And we couldn't help but notice your amount of experience. Army nine years, four tours.” He said with bewilderment. “A lot of service to your country; I'm a lawman myself, well former,” He said with a coy tilt of his head.

“Henry here is former military too, and we could use all the patriots we could get!”

“Hmm, yeah man I don't know where you got your info, but I was a desk jockey in the army so I wouldn't be too much help.“

He paused, his smile slowly lifted from his face. “Well ya see, that's too bad, I thought you were a patriot.” He let that word hang in the air. “Cus’ those who help out the group get help in return, and like I said protection too.” He nodded past my shoulder, “protection for your family. Always good to know someones got your six right? Don't want anyone to get the wrong impression that you're not on the right side. I mean, afterall if you arent helping the group who are you helping? Right?”

My heart throbbed in my throat, my ears grew hot. A lot of good your protection did for Mrs.Hernandez,

“Yeah, I think I know what side i'm on; that's okay though, can you move your shit kicker please so I can enjoy my lunch-”

“Which side would that be by the way?” He pointedly asked, the customer service act fully over. “See we checked the voting records and didn't see a thing, so who did you vote for?”

“Well sorry to disappoint, I didn't vote in this last election.”

“Hmm thats too bad, well why would-”

“Oh no wait! I voted for Mickey Mouse, I wrote him in, always been a big Disney fan! So figured he would be the best choice.”

“Hm.” Smiley nodded with a few light laughs, and pulled his boot back.

The burly one behind him grunted a laugh as well.

“Okay then Alex, we won't take any more of your time. I'm sure we'll see ya around sooner than later, enjoy that lunch now! Never know when you will get to eat a nice warm meal now days!”

“Yep, uh huh bye.”

I closed the door, letting my head rest upon it. I remember the smooth wood, cool on the top of my head, I took deep breaths. Fuck those guys.

I knew then what we had to do. “Honey, get ready to pack up, we have to leave this place.”

“What?”

I looked back at her, as serious as I've ever been. “We need to leave.”

I opened the door cocking the Glock 19 as I stepped off my porch. The three goons were about to go to a house a few doors down. In an overly friendly way I would say: “What's a guy gotta do to join your boy scouts again?”

Then I opened fire gunning them all down, the husky one bounced on the ground as he fell, I couldn't help but smile. For Marjorie

I shot awake reacquainting myself with the firm ground of the plains; wiping confusion from my mind. Re-remembering where I was. Random gunfire could be heard in the distance with the coming daybreak. I wish my dreams were how things actually played out, but it didn't matter. If we hadn't left eventually I likely would have been forced into their little group, under threat of death, or worse.

I sat up, looking down at Marisol sleeping peacefully. I let her sleep a little longer. I reached over my side to wake up Cora, but to my shock she wasn't there. I searched among the barely awake shadows on the ground. I heard some muffled voices and movement. I walked aimlessly toward it. Something told me to pull out my pistol, which I ignored, but I took the safety off.

My stomach dropped as I came upon two of the coyotes forcing their way on top of Cora, I yelled.

“What the fuck is going on here!?”

The bearded Coyote jumped up to his feet and then pointed a shotgun at my face, “step the fuck back or I will blow your face away.”

I held my hands up,fighting every urge to attack him.

“Alex!” Cora yelled muffled by the other man on top of her.

I shook my head pleading with him, “please don't do this man. We don't need this, we just want to get across the border to escape this shit.”

In the fading dark, I could see his grin. “Well since we are guiding you to your freedom annnd we happen to have guns, I think we can do what we want.”

“C'mon don't do this.”

“Okay okay tell ya what. Do you have some extra money? Call it paid protection. We don't have our way with your women here and we’ll make sure you get to where you need to be.”

I stammered, “ho-how much?”

“500.00 dollars.” He let the number marinate.

“For each of us.”

“I- I don't have more than 700.00. Will you take 300 each?”

“Sorry bud, 500 a heads the going rate,” he said with a smoker's laugh.

My mind made up, I started to reach in back pocket for my gun but he predicted some attempt of attack apparently. He reared back the shotgun and rifle butted me in the head, I spiraled to the ground.

My head screamed in pain, I could feel the warm blood flowing over my eyes. He kicked my ribs. I gasped for air that refused to fill my lungs.My back cracked from the pressure of his boot on my back. “Well ya see, now you pissed us off you're gonna just have to sit here and watch.”

The other man added in a thick norteño accent, “I'm a little shy, I don't know man.” I couldn't see his face but I could hear him smiling when he spoke.

I cried in agony for anyone to help, but there was no one. I heard Cora's clothes tearing, she was putting up a fight. A better one than I did. The one on top of her smacked her but she kept fighting, he looked to the coyote on top of me,

“Oye , hold this bitch down.”

I could feel the bearded one on top of me peering down at me as he retorted.“Here lemme help with your shyness situation.”

He kicked the back of my head again for good measure and went to help.

I was in and out of consciousness, the only thing keeping me going was Cora's scream, and my rage. I reached into my back pocket, my heart sank, it was empty.

FUCK, I glanced around in the dirt for anything, did he take it?

There it was, beneath my feet in some brush. I glanced up at the two men who were focused on Cora, the bigger one holding her hands back while the other tore away the rest of her clothes. I slowly reached down to the pistol, trying to steady myself as much as possible and not get seen.

I fumbled the gun into my hand. With a few deep breaths I stood up, and crept over to the two who were just maybe five feet away. Beardo first.

He looked up at me, “You motherfucker, you shoulda' stayed down, unless you're trying to join in!”

I could feel my head rocking, unable to keep it straight.

He stood up “Welp we are just gonna have to kill ya friendo, we will make sure your wif-

I didn't let him finish.

POP, POP the gunshot rang in my ears.

His face twisted in a millisecond of shock, eyes wide, blood oozed from his cheek bone where I shot him. He dropped heavily to the dirt.

The norteño pounced away from the sound, or maybe was kicked off by Cora. He looked from his friend to me and started to pull for his gun as well, though his pants were down. I shot at him, missing wide right, I may have had a concussion after all.

He dove at my legs, I could make out his white Hanes briefs in the now rising sun. I fell to the ground with him on top of me, he was punching, writhing for the gun.

I pulled my gun hand away, fending him off with the other and fired, I don't know how many times into his body, but my magazine was empty after.

He let out a shocked gurgle,and his body went limp on top of me.

I sighed, and pushed his body off me. Cora came over, we held each other, and we both cried.

I heard a small voice from behind me. “Mommy? Daddy? Are you okay?”

Cora, slid in her pants quickly and went over to Marisol, trying to protect her from the scene.

I stumbled up toward her. Over my ringing ears I could hear voices. I knew the other coyote would come soon. We had to go otherwise he may try to kill us too. We quickly grabbed our things and started to make way for the border. I knew the general direction of where we had to go.

The next few hours were a blur. The majority of what I remember was one foot in front of the other.I just knew with each step I would be closer to the border. Closer to safety, closer to a fresh start. Away from war, away from the roving gangs, away from the nightmare. Awakening to freedom.

I was taken from my trance and determined walk by helicopters circling around, two white trucks pulled up to us with border agents.

Shit shit no, this can't be the end.

It wasn't until they got closer I saw their uniforms and knew we were on the right side of the border. As we laid down in surrender I held tightly the hands of Cora, and Marisol.

I was tearing up again.

Once in the truck they asked questions. “¿De dónde viene?” I looked at him dumbly.

“¿Senior habla español?”

I shook my head, this much I knew. “No, no, solo un poco.”

“Ah okay no problem.”

I heard him mutter to the other agent “Pinche gringos vienen acá y no hablan nada.”

I didn't understand much but figured he disapproved of my lack of Spanish, seems how I look the part. My long passed Grandma would agree.

“Well, it's okay, we speak some English. Welcome to Mexico.”

“Thank you so much.” Cora said, almost crying. “We wish to apply for asylum.”

The driver glanced at us, “Yes well, we can see, it is a long list you know. Many people come from Estados Unidos since the war.”

The rest of the drive was in silence, I don't remember falling asleep.

Though we weren't being chased by gangs, or coyotes, the next days were their own little hell. They separated Marisol from Cora and I.

The overcrowding is terrible, we were crammed in cages with tens of other people. I get that they have to put us where they can fit us, but why separate us from our daughter? It just seems cruel and unnecessary.

Some people are denied entry immediately and deported, others get pulled out and we don't know where they go.

There was a gay couple from Ohio deported the other day; and I thought our journey was long.. Don't they know what we are running from?

There's hundreds of questions and a polygraph. "Why did you come? Do you have a criminal record? Are you Republican or Democrat? Why did you have a gun? You know gringos have a reputation for having a love of guns, and being violent, are you?"

I wake up waiting for the anguish to be set free from inside me. It does not come. Neither does it go, it stays pent up like a held breath. I've never felt more helpless.

We ask to see our daughter but they say they cannot allow it right now. I banged on the walls so hard they had to restrain me.

“Is this what freedom is? Is this the Mexican Dream?” I scream as they pull me down and put me in restraints.

The days blur together and finally we get our answer, it's been maybe a month or more if I had to guess. A man named simply Cortez, came and pulled us out of our living space into an office of sorts. His thick eyebrows outlined his thick glasses.

“So we have good news and bad news. We are able to accept you for asylum.” He instantly held up a hand because he had yet to say the bad news. “However, there are only two spaces for the list.”

I felt myself slumping, and Cora's eyes welled with tears. We both knew what had to be done; I wiped the tears from her eyes and forced a smile that eventually turned into a real one. Later, we were finally reunited with Marisol, and I said my farewells.

Whatever happened to me didn't matter, atleast they had a chance. The Mexican Dream could be a reality for them.

Maybe for me someday too.

The guards let me watch Cora, and Marisol leave. I was surprised when I saw outside the facility Mexicans gathered along the fences, yelling and chanting. Some seemed to be protesting our poor conditions, and others held up signs that I could make out somewhat.

“NUESTRO TRABAJOS”, our jobs. “MEXICANS FIRST.” The faces behind them were convoluted in anger behind the shaking signs.

How could they say this? I'm not coming for your jobs, I'm coming for survival. The jobs being taken are jobs that half of these fucks would never work anyways.. They think we came here just for that? If only they could see what it took to get here, if only they could see what I escaped, what we escaped, to try and enjoy their freedom and comfort. Not everyone can step into someone else's shoes I suppose.

Cora and Marisol went into a big bus with a few more Americans. I watched as the buses continued driving away until they were blurs against the mirage of traffic in the Mexican horizon. I sat for some time after they left. I turned to go back to my cage though something caught my eye. I watched as an eagle flew far and high above. Floating effortless against the wind, gliding away until it too was just a mirage.

A song I felt suited this story well. (not my music)

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