“Someone was walking down there, I saw them move,” said Juan. “If it’s not a ghost, then it’s someone else, but I saw them.”
“You always think you see something. Remember when you thought you saw the Chupicabra?” scorned Julio. It turned out to be just the ugliest dog they’d ever seen. Nonetheless, he ducked his head and proceeded quietly. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Juan reluctantly followed the other as they snuck low around the headstones and tombs. As they moved, they suddenly heard voices. “Aren’t you done yet?”
“Do you want to get down here and dig?” asked another voice.
“I already had my turn,” said the other.
“Why are we burying her here, anyway,” asked the other. “We should have just driven out to the desert or left her for the crocodiles somewhere.”
“Because this is where we were told to put her. They don’t want her found and nobody’s going to check the cemeteries,” said the other. “It was a bad idea to get her in the first place. I don’t know why your boss wouldn’t listen. Did you see what happened? It’s everywhere already. One day and entire fucking world is looking for her. Looking for us!”
“You can’t tell him anything when he’s like that,” said the other. “Once he makes his mind up, that’s it with him. He doesn’t think of anything else.”
“What’s his problem, anyway? Is he fucking crazy?”
“I don’t know. He just gets like that. I’ve seen him do some weird shit ever since I started working for him, but this is probably the worse. But don’t tell anyone I said so. He’d kill us both just for talking about it.”
“There wasn’t any reason for this shit. You have no idea how much trouble he’s brought us. No idea. He’s going to get us all killed, the stupid son of a bitch.”
“What are they doing?” asked Juan.
“Shhhh,” said Julio. “Grave robbers, maybe,” said Julio, although he already knew by the conversation they probably weren’t. They snuck a little closer and stayed behind a tomb out of sight. In the soft light they saw two men with shovels. One had his shirt draped over a headstone nearby, but had khaki slacks and what appeared to be some kind of dress shoes on. Around his neck a gold chain glinted in the moonlight. The other was equally well dressed. The boys heard a Clunk! and the man digging said, “Finally!” He threw his shovel out of the hole and began brushing the dirt away. Then he opened up the casket.
The other man looked inside. “Huh,” he said. “Still fresh.”
“He was just buried,” said the other.
“You want some company, senor?” asked the other jokingly. “We have a very pretty girl for you.” He let out a laugh.
“Not anymore,” said the other with the gold medallion dangling from his neck. “And stop laughing. This shit isn’t funny.” He climbed out of the hole and Julio and Juan watched as the two men walked a couple feet back behind a monument. When next they appeared, they were carrying a body, one by the ankles the other by the wrists. The boys were close enough that they could see she didn’t have any clothes on. Also, she didn’t look Mexican. She had blond hair and her skin tone, while tan, didn’t look Hispanic. Then the men dropped the body by the grave as the one with the chain got back in the hole. When the body hit the ground, a face turned towards the boys. It was partially obscured by the hair, but the boys could just see the unmistakable mouth, nose, and closed eyes that appeared unnaturally swollen.
Juan made a noise of surprise and shifted his body as if he was going to run, but Julio quickly grabbed him and shook his head, No. He held his finger up to his mouth in a silencing gesture.
The man with the gold chain looked up as though he may have heard Juan.
“Hey!” said the other. “Come on, already. Let’s get this over with.”
“Shut up,” the other responded angrily. “I’m not in the mood for any shit. That’s my picture all over the news. It’s me they’re all looking for.”
“Well, you’re the one that shot the other girl. Nobody told you to do that.”
He stared at the man murderously. “She shouldn’t have got in the way.” He paused a second longer to look around again, but hearing nothing then bent down and grabbed the body by the arms and dragged it to the hole where the other man took the arms. Then each took an end and maneuvered the body until it disappeared into the hole. A few seconds later the boys could hear a shutting noise as the casket closed again. Then the men in the grave climbed out and both proceeded to start shoveling the dirt back.
Julio and Juan sat quietly while the two men worked, too frightened to move lest they be heard. After a while the job was done. The one in the shirt stretched his back and then sat down on a nearby headstone. The other, however, meticulously packed the dirt, poking and prodding as though unsatisfied with its appearance.
“What are you doing?” asked the one sitting.
“It has to look right. What if this man’s family comes to visit and notices someone’s been digging? They might call the police, and the police may check the grave. We can’t have any mistakes. Otherwise it’ll be us that get buried next. You said it yourself. Your boss is a crazy asshole. Hell, we’re all dead men either way if we get caught. If your boss doesn’t do it, the cops will.” There was a slight pause, and then the man in the shirt stood up and began to help. After a few minutes the other said, “There, that’s good enough. I’ve had enough of this shit. Let’s go.” The two men walked off, leaving the boys dazed in the darkness.
“Who do you think they were?” asked Juan.
“I don’t know,” said Julio.
“Were they grave robbers?”
“No,” said Julio. “They were here to bury a body.”
Juan seemed to think about this. “You think they murdered someone?”
“Yes,” said Julio. “They must have killed that woman and were hiding her in the grave.”
Juan sat on his butt and leaned against the tomb they’d been hiding behind. “Should we tell the police?”
Julio looked at him. “No. We can’t tell anyone,” he told Juan sternly.
“But they murdered someone,” started Juan.
“Did you see their clothes?” asked Julio. “They’re gangsters. If they knew we saw them, they’d probably kill us, too. We can’t tell anyone we saw them. Understand?” Juan nodded his head, but it didn’t seem to Julio that Juan understood how precarious their situation was. “I’m serious,” warned Julio. “If we tell the police, then they’ll come get the body and those drug dealers will find out someone saw them. The police will lock us up and make us tell them what we saw, and then the drug dealers will pay them to find out and they’ll come looking for us. If they find us, they’ll kill us and hide the bodies just like that woman.” Juan’s eyes got big and Julio knew he understood now. “We were never here and we didn’t see anything, right?” Juan nodded. “Say it,” Julio told him.
“We were never here.”
“That’s right. Now let’s get out of here. They might come back again.”
Shortly after midnight, the black suburban turned down a dirt road. They had been criss-crossing back roads to avoid any law enforcement, even once cutting through a field when Hector became nervous about headlights ahead. All the while Yesenia and Silvia had sat in silence. Silvia kept looking at Yesenia with questioning eyes, and Yesenia had made the gesture of a gun and pointed back to the horror they’d left behind. Slowly, Silvia began to realize what had happened. She and Yesenia let their eyes do the rest of the talking for them to one another.
At the end of the dirt road they came to a crude fence with rectangular structures ahead of it. As they approached two large Rottweilers that barked aggressively greeted them. Jose got out and called to one of the dogs, “Hola, Chico.” The animals seemed to recognize their master and began wagging their tails. The man then opened the fence and the Suburban continued on into a little clearing where four very old mobile homes sat in a makeshift compound. An old woman wearing a muumuu came a
nd smoking a cigarette came out of one of the mobile homes followed by a man who looked similar to the two young men who had driven Yesenia and Silvia. The girls were dismayed to see had a pistol sticking out of his jeans.
The old woman moved like a cow, her chin tucked downward and her stride heavy and slow as her slippers walked along, the cigarette held between yellowed fingertips before she flicked it away. Behind her, the younger man walked leisurely with a caballero swagger, sharkskin boots on his feet and an ivory bolo around his neck.
The old woman walked over and kissed Jose on the cheek in greeting. “Esta bien?” she asked.
He held his head down slightly. “No, we had problems. It’s bad.”
“What?” asked the old woman as Hector got out of the vehicle as well. The two men looked at one another. “What’s the matter?” she asked them.
“We had to shoot someone, Mama . . . a police officer.”
The woman put her hands to her cheeks and gasped. Then, without warning, she rose up on her tiptoes, her slippers remaining flat but her heels suddenly popping out of them, and she smacked Jose hard on his head, “Idiota!”
“You killed him?” asked the man with the bolero.
“You shut up,” spat the old woman at him, turning back to Jose. “How could you be so stupid?”
“We had to, Mama. He pulled us over and saw the stuff in back.” Jose whined as a child might as he rubbed his head.
“And why were you pulled over?” asked the woman. “Were you speeding?”
“No, Mama.”
She looked at the two men disapprovingly. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
“We had the fake plates,” said the other man. “And he didn’t have time to run the driver’s license.”
“Did you get the video?” asked the woman.
The men looked confused. “What video?”
She smacked him on the head again, “They have cameras, you idiot. They keep the video in the trunk. You didn’t get it?”
“No,” he admitted.
She rambled curses at them before saying, “Well, at least you didn’t get caught. You’ll have to get rid of this thing, though,” she gestured towards the suburban where Yesenia and Silvia were just getting out.
“It’s fine. I can just paint it. I don’t want to get rid of it.”
She scowled at him. “Fine, paint it, then. But make sure it looks different. It can’t look anything like it does now. Put different wheels on it, change everything.”
As Yesenia and Silvia got out the two large dogs sniffed around their legs and both girls huddled together. The dogs looked as big as they were.
Jose looked towards them and told the woman, “They saw.”
The old woman looked at the girls and walked over, “Oh they did, eh?” She gestured to the suburban and told the man who had accompanied her, “Unload it.” Then she looked to the girls. “I’ll have a talk with them.” She walked up to Yesenia and poked her in the ribs with her index finger, “And which one are you?” She kept on poking her like a schoolyard bully pushing a smaller child around. Yesenia was so unnerved she couldn’t find her voice. “Well? Out with it! What’s your name?” asked the woman. One of the dogs had his nose in her crotch and Yesenia remained speechless.
Silvia spoke up instead, “Yesenia. Her name is Yesenia.”
The old woman wheeled around and smacked Silvia on the head like she had done Jose, “Was I talking to you?” Silvia cowered and remained silent as the woman turned back to Yesenia. “Now, then. I’m talking to you, girl. What’s your name?”
“Yesenia,” she finally managed.
“Yesenia Flores, yes?” said the woman.
“Yes, ma’am.” The dog was still pressing itself against her and Yesenia stood tense fearing it would attack.
The woman scolded the dog, “Oye, Chico. Hah! Go on now!” She waved her arms at him and the dog ran off with the other one underneath one of the mobile homes, still wagging his tail as though he’d enjoyed angering the old woman.
Yesenia relaxed a little but then the old woman grabbed her by the chin. “Well, I know all about you, Yesenia Flores. I know about your mother in Santa Rosanna and your sister in Mexico City.” She let go and turned to Silvia, “And you! I know all about you, too.” She stared at both the girls menacingly, “So did you see these men shoot anyone?” Silvia looked at Yesenia in confusion, but she caught on as Yesenia shook her head, no. “What’s that?” asked the woman. “Speak up!”
“We didn’t see anything,” said Yesenia.
“I was asleep,” said Silvia honestly. “I didn’t see anything.”
“Ah, well, that’s good for you, isn’t it? You just remember that.” She circled around the girls, sizing them up. “I’m Miss Lydia,” she told them. “I run things here. You behave and do like you’re told, and we’ll get along and things will be good for you. But if you don’t,” she wagged her finger at them, “Things won’t be good for you here.”
She stopped in front of Silvia and stared at her. Silvia felt very uncomfortable and looked to Yesenia for support, but Yesenia kept her head down. Suddenly the old woman grabbed one of Silvia’s breasts. She was so shocked she didn’t have the nerve to pull away. She stood at attention like a soldier while the old woman felt her up. “How old are you?” asked the woman as she squeezed and pressed on Silvia’s body. She moved her hand from Silvia’s breast down to her hip and pinched her love handles.
“Um, eighteen,” Silvia answered nervously.
“Huh,” said the woman. “A little chubby, aren’t ya.” It wasn’t a question. “Well, we’ll fix that.”
She moved in front of Yesenia and tried to repeat the process, but when she grabbed her breast Yesenia pulled away. The old woman hit her on the head and yanked Yesenia back in place. “Stand still,” she told her, and continued her examination. Yesenia complied but her jaw clenched in anger. “Don’t be such a prude,” said the woman. She pressed, pinched, and squeezed while Yesenia fumed in humiliation. “You’re not so bad,” the woman finally said. Then she addressed both girls again, “Now, Arnulfo will show you where you sleep. The other girls will explain the rules to you. You’d better learn them fast, or else you’ll learn the hard way.”
The man with the sharkskin boots told the girls to follow him and led them to one of the mobile homes. It was an odd pink that had become weatherworn to a dreary color, like a red that’d been washed too many times.
“You’ll be staying here,” said the man as he opened the door.
“Here?” asked Silvia. “You mean this is it?”
“Of course here,” said the man. “Where did you think you were going?”
“But this is the middle of nowhere.”
“The girls will explain things. Just do what you’re told and you’ll be fine.”
Catherine shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The first flight she could catch ended up being early in the morning and she was already dreading the hours lost. She knew enough about these events to know that the first hours were the most important. Still, it’d been the best she could do under the circumstances. It seemed Cancun was suddenly on a lot of people’s travel plans, either going to for the media or coming back in hordes by early departing vacationers.
Border Crossings Page 7