The Water Year

by Max Howard

  “Violet called me,” Amy said. “She was worried. We took you to the hospital.”

  Violet blew on my fingernail to dry it.

  “I haven’t been able to reach your dad,” Amy said. “It can be hard to get signal out in the desert.”

  Her voice was neutral. But we all knew what had happened in the desert.

  I thought of Uncle Matt. How he cried in the bathroom. How he wore a gold badge on his chest in the desert. You could wander for days without seeing a house. Weeks. Did he have any water with him?

  “I’m painting rainbows,” Violet said. “I’m painting each of your nails a different rainbow color.”

  “Betty’s out on bail,” Rubén said. “She’s already fixing up camp. Getting fresh volunteers out there.”

  “What did they even charge her with?” Amy asked.

  I closed my eyes. I liked hearing their voices. They were sweet. But my mind wanted to drift.

  “Littering. Trespassing,” Ruben said.

  “I don’t have orange. I’m skipping orange,” Violet said.

  An idea was growing inside my mouth. There was something I wanted to say. I opened my lips. Tried to speak. Words seemed so far away. Finally, I asked, “What about Daniel?”

  “He’s okay,” Rubén said. “Lucas drove him all the way to Phoenix. He’s with his aunt and uncle.”

  “His parents are still detained,” Amy said. “We think they’re in an hielera near Tucson, but we can’t be sure. I made a million phone calls. So did the Human Kind attorney.”

  I closed my eyes. I let myself drift. I pictured Daniel, eating cupcakes in the bakery van. What was he doing right now? What would I do if my dad were stuck in an icebox?

  “I actually have two shades of violet,” Violet said. “Should I do both?”

  Two shades of Violet.

  I’m so lucky.

  Love,

  Sophie

  Chapter 18

  Sophie’s phone dings. She opens her eyes. Blinks. Her head feels fuzzy. Oh, right. I’m in the hospital.

  She tries to sit up, but Violet is curled around her, sleeping.

  Violet is wearing Sophie’s green sequin dress.

  Violet’s tiny. She could swim in Sophie’s dress. The emerald gown trails off the side of the bed.

  Sophie strains to reach her phone. She tries not to wake up Violet. She checks her texts. Dad has texted:

  We found Uncle Matt. He’s okay. Ambulance will take him to hospital. I’m headed to Fresh Ranch for lunch rush. Then will visit Matt at hospital.

  Rubén has texted, too.

  On my way. Need anything?

  She even has a text from Betty.

  Pulled some strings at the hospital. Nobody will ask questions about your wound. So don’t worry. Sometimes it pays to be a nurse!

  Sophie leans back into the white pillows. She admires her rainbow nails. She strokes Violet’s light brown hair.

  A nurse pokes her head into Sophie’s room. “We’ve got a super full house today, honey, so I’m going to pull this curtain shut. Someone else can use the other half of this room.” The curtain rattles.

  Sophie closes her eyes, relaxing.

  Everything is going to be okay.

  Right?

  The nurse wheels in another patient. They help him into bed. Soon, he starts snoring.

  He snores funny. He buzzes like a kazoo. Can they make her share a room with a man? The nurse says it’s super temporary. An emergency.

  Violet whispers, “That guy snores just like Dad.” She snuggles closer to Sophie.

  Dad. Sophie pictures him snoring on the sofa. He often falls asleep with a copy of Restaurant News Weekly on his face. Sophie usually puts a blanket over him.

  Sophie starts to cry. Tears slide down her face. She makes a dam with her fingers. She doesn’t want her tears to land in Violet’s hair. She doesn’t want Violet to know she’s sad. How would she explain?

  I want things with Dad to go back the way they were. I want Dad to say, “Good job, kiddo,” instead of “What would your mom say?”

  But I also want to be with Rubén. I want to volunteer with Human Kind.

  A few tears escape Sophie’s fingers. They drip into Violet’s hair. Violet sits up. The sequin dress shoots green light through the white room. “Why are you crying?” asks Violet.

  “I’m cryin’ ‘cause I’m lyin’,” Sophie says. She laughs through her tears.

  “Lyin’ in a hospital bed?” says Violet.

  “Yeah,” Sophie lies.

  Chapter 19

  Sophie’s roommate buzzes and snores. Then cowboy boots clack across the floor. The floral curtain shakes. “Knock, knock,” says Rubén.

  He leans into Sophie’s side of the room. He tugs on the curtain. “This is a short curtain,” he says. “I wouldn’t want to take my pants off in here.”

  “Especially with a roommate,” Sophie says. When were they going to move that guy?

  “Did you bring tres leches cupcakes?” asks Violet.

  “Just for you,” Rubén says.

  “Sophie’s crying,” says Violet.

  “Violet,” says Sophie. “Don’t tattle.”

  Rubén pats Sophie’s foot through the sheet. “I don’t know what you’d have to cry about,” he says, grinning.

  Sophie smiles. Rubén’s sarcasm is unique. Some people are mean-sarcastic. Rubén is fake-happy sarcastic.

  Violet leans back in bed. She stretches out in Sophie’s green sequin dress. She munches cupcakes. Crumbs fly everywhere.

  Rubén squeezes Sophie’s big toe. It feels like Morse code. There’s a lot to say. It’s hard to know where to start.

  Finally, he says, “Human Kind rescued a guy this morning. They found him passed out near one of the water drop-off points. Jug cutters had been there first. He was dehydrated. Delirious. But he’s going to be okay.”

  “Wow,” says Sophie.

  “He wasn’t a migrant. He was a U.S. citizen,” Rubén says. He raises his eyebrows.

  Could he mean… Uncle Matt?

  The nurse bustles around on the other side of the curtain. She says, “Sir, can you sit up for me?” The snoring man stops buzzing. “Let me adjust your bed,” says the nurse. “There you go. Oh! It looks like you have a visitor. Come on in!”

  “Look at my socks,” Violet says. She shows off her pink tube socks. She kicks her legs.

  The green dress spills off the bed. It brushes the floor. Green light shoots out from under the curtain.

  “Look at that sparkle!” says the nurse. “Someone brought a disco ball to the hospital.”

  Suddenly Sophie hears a familiar voice: her dad.

  “Matt! Matt! Take a look at that! Doesn’t that look like the green dress we saw in the desert?”

  Chapter 20

  Dear Mom,

  When you died, Aunt Rachel tried to comfort me. She said, “Look for pennies. Pennies are signs. They’re signs your mom is thinking of you.”

  I wait tables. Sometimes jerks leave pennies for tips. They drop them in their milkshakes. So the whole Pennies from Heaven idea seemed dumb.

  But what happened at the hospital makes me wonder.

  There are 500 square miles of desert between us and the border.

  I got shot in that desert.

  Uncle Matt got lost in that desert.

  500 square miles of rattlesnakes, scorpions, hot sun, thirst, and guns.

  Yet Uncle Matt and I both survived it.

  We even wound up sharing a hospital room.

  What does that mean?

  Rubén says everything is random. Things seem connected, but they’re not.

  Amy says things happen for a reason. You just don’t always know what that reason is.

  I don’t know what I think. I know the story is bigger than me and Uncle Matt. Daniel’s parents got arrested in the desert. So did Betty. Rubén’s mom carried him across the desert. She walked for five days. She crawled on her hands and knees in the night.

 
Ellie died in the desert. No one ever learned her real name.

  Lucas did something nice for a change. He took care of Daniel. (Also: Amy broke up with Lucas.)

  Thousands of other people have died in the desert. No one knew their names, either. Their families don’t know what happened to them.

  Their dads don’t sit by their beds and cry.

  Their uncles don’t apologize.

  Their boyfriends don’t stand there, looking awkward.

  Their dads don’t blow their noses and say, “Oh, my God. You’re the kid from the bakery.”

  Love,

  Sophie

  Chapter 21

  Two weeks after leaving the hospital, Sophie goes back to work at the restaurant. She has an “okay” from the doctor. She can carry trays. She can drag heavy trash cans into the alley. She’s healed.

  After the restaurant closes, Sophie and her dad sit in the back booth of the restaurant. They prep silverware and condiments for the next day. They work in silence. Finally her dad clears his throat.

  “We need some ground rules,” Dad says. “I wish you wouldn’t leave water in the desert. It’s dangerous.”

  “I’m going to, though.” Sophie combines ketchup bottles. She puts one bottle on top of another. Ketchup drips from one to the other.

  “I know. That’s why we need ground rules.”

  “Like what?”

  “No more lying.”

  “So… what if I tell you I’m going to the Human Kind camp?”

  Dad wraps a fork and a knife in a paper napkin. He rolls the bundle tight. “If you’re going to go, I’m not going to stop you. But we need to make a deal. School comes first.”

  “Okay,” says Sophie.

  Dad pulls out his phone. He checks Sophie’s grades. “You’re flunking history,” he says. “What’s your plan?”

  “Ask Mr. Orr for extra credit?”

  “OK. When you’re passing history, you can go out to the desert.”

  Sophie sighs. “That’s fair.”

  “Also, it’s too dangerous for you to go at night—”

  “But Dad, we have headlamps and—”

  “If you go at night, you have to take me with you.”

  “What?”

  “Your uncle and I talked about it. Human Kind saved his life. We owe them. So we’re going to guard their camp. Protect them from the Rangers.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep,” says Dad. “Look, I know you like Rubén. I think he’s a nice kid, too, but he shouldn’t be in this country. Legally, he’s not allowed.”

  “Sometimes bad laws need to be changed,” Sophie says. “Would you support slavery, too, just because it was the law?”

  Dad sighs. “I’m trying, Sophie. Why don’t you meet me halfway? I think we can both agree that we don’t want to see anyone get hurt, so Uncle Matt and I will do our part. We’ll keep everyone safe.”

  “Okay,” says Sophie.

  “One other thing,” says Dad. “I’ve looked over the books. We can afford a housekeeper. I’m going to hire someone. I’ve asked too much of you. You shouldn’t have to take care of Violet and the house all by yourself. You deserve to be a kid.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” says Sophie. She wipes the gunky tops of ketchup bottles. She screws on their lids.

  “I wish you hadn’t grown up so quickly,” Dad says. “You’ve had to act like a grown-up for a long time. Human Kind is a pretty grown-up responsibility, too. Immigration is an issue for adults. Are you sure you don’t want to be a kid? Have fun?”

  Sophie thinks about Daniel, traveling to Phoenix to stay with relatives he’s never met. Or Rubén. He always had to take care of his little sisters so his mom could start her business. Not everybody just gets to be a kid. “I’m sure,” Sophie says.

  “Promise me you’ll try to make room for a normal after-school activity.”

  Sophie thinks for a minute. “Well,” she says, “Amy is directing a play.”

  Chapter 22

  Dear Mom,

  I never wanted to be an actress, but I like painting sets. I like working in the costume shop. I combed out an old blond wig. It’s super long. It was used in Rapunzel in the 1990s.

  I braided it into a thick braid. Amy wants Princess Ellie to be a character in her play.

  It sounds surreal, but it makes sense.

  That movie Violet loves so much… it’s about a fairy who leaves home and goes on a journey–and winds up stuck in a forever-winter place. Her sister has to go on a journey to find her and rescue her.

  So many migrants go on dangerous journeys. If they are caught by Border Patrol, they are sent to hieleras, or iceboxes. They get stuck in ice castles, just like the fairy princess.

  Also, kids who go to my school are literally afraid of ICE. Not the frozen water, but Immigration and Customs Enforcement. The people who come and take your parents away. Rubén is afraid of ICE. He acts tough. He raises his fist. But I know he’s scared.

  Amy named her play ICE AT THE BORDER.

  Amy wrote the spring play, but I wrote the program. (Mr. Orr said I could get extra credit for history.) Here’s part of what I wrote:

  This is a play about a hero and a quest.

  In books and movies, people go on quests. They travel to strange lands. They face danger. They suffer. They come out the other side. In movies, we call those people heroes.

  But it’s different in real life.

  Real-life people go on quests, too. They risk everything to pursue a better life. They travel to strange lands. They face death. They come out the other side.

  But we don’t call these people heroes. We call them criminals. Why?

  Love,

  Sophie

  Every year, Fresh Ranch does a huge Mother’s Day Special. Sophie’s dad buys hundreds of pink helium balloons. He hangs a banner in the parking lot: Moms Eat Free.

  Mother’s Day Special keeps Sophie and her dad busy. They’re so busy they don’t have time to feel sad. Rubén stops by after the brunch rush. He ties on an apron. He helps Sophie scrub a mountain of dishes.

  “It’s funny. Usually I think a lot about my mom on Mother’s Day, but today I keep thinking about Ellie’s mom. Whoever she is, wherever she is,” she tells Rubén.

  “I keep thinking about Daniel’s mom,” says Rubén. “She’s back in Mexico now. She’s going to try to cross the border again. She wants to get to Daniel.”

  Sophie scrapes French toast crusts off a plate. “I wish there were a way to celebrate moms you can’t just go out to brunch with.”

  Balloons drift into the steamy kitchen while they work. Pink balloon ribbons tickle their necks. “I have an idea,” Rubén says. “Come on. Let’s get these balloons together.”

  They stuff the cargo space in Rubén’s van with pink balloons. They cram them in with both hands. The balloons squeak as they pack them in.

  “There’s a huge roll of bakery twine in the glove box,” Rubén says. Sophie uses long pieces of twine to extend the balloons’ ribbons. They drive out to Human Kind’s new camp.

  They haul out masses of balloons. The balloons zip and dive in the wind. Rubén and Sophie clutch handfuls of string. They try to tug the balloons close to them.

  Betty Fernandez peeks out of her tent. She shades her eyes. She watches Rubén and Sophie struggle with all the balloons. “Quite a wrestling match,” she calls out.

  Pink balloons bob in front of Sophie’s eyes. She can’t see in front of her. All she can hear is the balloons. They thrum against one another.

  “It’s like walking inside an elephant!” Sophie laughs.

  “Or a swarm of bees!” says Rubén.

  Sophie looks down. She can just see the heels of Rubén’s black cowboy boots. She has to trust him.

  He leads her up the steep ridge behind the camp. She holds the balloons steady. He ties the strings around a cactus’s crooked arm.

  “Okay, let go!” Rubén says.

  When Sophie release the balloons, the wind picks up
. Dozens of pink balloons soar high into the air—and then stop. The twine holds them. A mass of dancing pink balloons floats in the blue. The balloons mark the spot of the Human Kind camp.

  They climb back down to camp.

  “Looks beautiful!” Betty says. “You should be able to see that for miles.”

  Rubén says, “It will give people a stable reference point. Maybe even guide them to camp.”

  “Let’s hope,” says Sophie. She hoped the balloons would attract the right people. Not ICE. Not Desert Rangers.

  “Let’s do more than hope,” says Rubén.

  They gaze up into the blue sky. Their balloon beacon quivers, beckoning.

  OCTOBER

  CHAPTER ONE

  There I was.

  Bryan Parker. The smart kid. The quiet kid. The polite kid. The kid who was always asked to help out. Even though I was only seventeen years old, people always said I was going places.

  I never got into trouble. I kept to myself. Getting into trouble would’ve killed me. It would’ve killed my teachers, too. And my parents! If I ever got in big trouble with them, well…

  My parents raised me to responsible. They taught me to admit my mistakes and fix them. I always did that, without fail. My mother was tough on me. She grew up in Korea with a big family. She wanted me to go to college, something that she never got to do. And my dad! He had been to several colleges. Right now, he was even teaching at one.

  As a kid, I knew I wanted to be smart. Just like him. So I stuck to school and excelled at everything I did. By seventeen, I applied to college. I was going to make video games someday. I was sure of it, and I was counting down the months until graduation and life starting.

  But then I’d remember my boring, quiet life in the suburbs. I loved the idea of living in a big city. It was always busy and loud. I could never be bored there.

  I was an only child and for good reason. My mom had nine brothers and sisters. My dad had four. They loved the idea of a simpler life. They also loved having their attention all on me—their one child.

  My dad’s parents were very tough on him growing up. He wasn’t allowed to make mistakes. He couldn’t get into trouble. So when I was born, he knew that he wanted different for me, and he would tell me this all the time. “Don’t ever be afraid to come to me,” he’d say. “No matter how much trouble you find yourself in, Bryan.”