She Had No Choice

by Debra Burroughs

  He gently pushed open the door and saw Juanita lying on their bed. She looked up when she heard the door. Emilio noticed the dark circles around her puffy eyes and how her skin had grown sallow.

  “How are you doing?” Emilio asked softly. “Would you like to have something to eat with the children and me?”

  “No, I can’t even think of food.” Juanita answered, sniffling. “I can’t stop thinking about the children we’ve lost. How many more will we lose?”

  Juanita buried her face in her hands. She was weak and spent, her strength eaten up by her misery.

  Emilio sat down on the side of the bed. He put his arm around Juanita and pulled her in close. The grief and constant worry were getting to both of them. She rested her head on his chest and the tears started to flow once more.

  “The only way we’re going to make it,” Emilio told her, “is to be strong together, for the children. We’ll do whatever we have to do to keep them safe. We just can’t lose another child to this evil sickness.”

  “But there’s only one way I know to can keep them safe. You and I have to keep from catching the flu ourselves. How do we do that? Tell me, Emilio, how do we do that?”

  “I don’t know.” He paused, searching his mind for an answer. “Somehow we need to get away from here – far enough away to keep our family safe.”

  She knew he was right. They needed to leave Mexico, escape their disease-ridden village and try to make it into the United States. If they stayed, the Angel of Death would surely come calling again, and they could all die. If they left, at least they would have a chance to survive. But could they do it soon enough?

  The Spanish Flu was so deadly that sometimes people were dying within hours of being struck with the disease. They had heard that some victims noticed a rash starting in the morning and death would take them by evening.

  The difficult decision had to be made. With their welfare in mind, they chose to take what was left of their family across the United States border into Arizona, where they hoped their chances of survival were better.

  Sneaking across the border was not an easy task. It could be very dangerous. Emilio knew some people who had attempted to do this over the years, but he never saw them again. He didn’t know if they made it across the border successfully, if they were dead, or if they were captured and jailed.

  The next morning, Emilio decided to covertly find out who could help them with their clandestine escape to the United States, trying not to draw attention to himself. Taking one of his horses, he went into town to see what information he could find.

  He saw Señor Vega walking down the street, then he ducked into his cantina. Emilio thought he, as the owner of the cantina, would overhear bits of information now and then. He figured he might know someone who could help them make the border crossing. So, he followed him into the cantina and struck up a conversation with him.

  “Hola, Señor,” Emilio greeted the older man who stood behind the bar.

  “Hey, Emilio. How are you doing?” Señor Vega was happy to see him.

  “I’m getting by, but this terrible influenza is taking its toll.”

  “Yes, I lost my wife and both my sons.” His eyes were moist and his voice a little shaky. “How about you, amigo? How’s your family getting along?”

  “Not well. We’ve lost four children. Juanita cries all the time.”

  Emilio surveyed the room and saw the cantina was nearly empty. He leaned in and quietly asked his friend if he knew anyone who could give him information about sneaking across the border. Señor Vega said he did know someone, his cousin, Pablo, in the neighboring village of Altar.

  “Yeah, Pablo knows a man,” Señor Vega told him in a low, quiet voice, leaning on the bar. He looked around to make sure no one else heard him. “He knows a guy who regularly helps people cross the border, but,” he paused, with eyes as dark as night, he looked Emilio straight in the eye, “money will have to be paid.”

  “I understand,” Emilio replied. “I’ll do whatever I have to.”

  Señor Vega sensed the desperation in Emilio’s voice; he looked haggard, like he hadn’t been sleeping well, dark circles forming around his warm brown eyes. So, he proceeded to tell Emilio where he could find Pablo.

  Then, he placed a firm hand on Emilio’s wrist, making sure he had his attention. “I warn you, keep what I just told you to yourself or there will be consequences.”

  “Yes, I promise.” He knew the old man meant it. “Thank you so much for your help, Señor.”

  “Good luck, amigo,” he said, as Emilio left the cantina.

  Raking his wrinkled fingers through his thick, graying hair, the old man poured himself a shot of tequila. He knew what it was like to watch your loved ones die from this deadly disease. His pain was still raw. For a fleeting moment, he thought of going with Emilio and his family. But, since he didn’t have anyone left to save, he decided he would stay in the village and take his chances.

  Emilio went directly to see Pablo in Altar, about an hour’s ride on horseback. He found him where his friend said he would be, working at the general store, waiting on customers. When Emilio walked in, Pablo was on an old rickety ladder, stretching to reach for some spices on the top shelf.

  Not wanting to draw attention to himself, Emilio browsed around, waiting for the right time to talk to him. Pretending to look at goods on the shelves, he tried to act natural. But, he couldn’t focus on the labels. His mind was consumed with something else.

  When the store was finally empty, he approached Pablo and told him his cousin, Señor Vega, had sent him. Emilio rushed to explain why he was there, the words spilling out quickly.

  “Hold on, hold on,” Pablo told Emilio, keeping an eye out for anyone entering the store. “It can be done, but it’s going to cost you, and it’s not gonna be cheap. The going rate is $200 for a family.”

  “$200? Oh, man!” Emilio said, rubbing his forehead with his hand, then running his fingers through his wavy black hair. “I don’t have $200.”

  “Keep your voice down,” Pablo warned.

  “$200.” Emilio repeated quietly, dazed at the enormity of such a figure.

  “If you want to get to the United States, that’s the price. El Jefe won’t do it for less.”

  El Jefe, the Boss, was the name of the man who organized the escapes. Money was always paid in cash and his real name was never known.

  “Do you still want to do it?”

  “Yes, yes, I’ll find a way.” Visions of burying his remaining niños vividly flashed in his mind. “Tell El Jefe we want to be in the next group to go.”

  “It won’t be for two or three weeks. Maybe that’ll give you time to raise the money. I’ll be in touch with you.”

  Emilio left the store and rode back to his village. The warm sun was starting to set behind him. He pondered their escape and how he would raise the money. His mind was racing. Where would he get that kind of money? And so quickly! How could he gather it without tipping his hand to his neighbors? It would be hard to keep it quiet.

  The children had been especially fussy that day, and Juanita had been unable to complete her chores for the day because of her own restlessness. She was anxious to hear what Emilio had learned, questions burning like fire in her belly.

  That evening, after the children were asleep, Juanita began blowing out the candles in the living area, preparing to go to bed themselves. She turned to Emilio and nervously asked him what he found out.

  “The children are sleeping now. Tell me, please, what happened today when you went to town? What did you find out? You were gone all day.”

  “I thought Señor Vega might be a good place to start,” Emilio explained. “When I rode into town, I saw him on the street, so I followed him into his cantina. He told me I should go see his cousin, Pablo, in Altar. So I rode over there and talked with him. He said he knew people and could make the necessary arrangements for us to get across the border. The hombre who is in charge is called El Jefe.”
/>   “El Jefe? Who’s that?” Juanita asked.

  “Pablo didn’t know his real name. He said no one does. It’s better that way.”

  “What else did he say? Tell me.”

  “He said it would cost us $200 to get the whole family across the border.”

  “$200?!” she gasped. “Where are we going to get $200?!”

  “Shhh. Keep your voice down.”

  “But, Emilio, $200?”

  “I know, I know, it’s a lot of money. I thought about it all the way home. I haven’t been able to think of anything else.”

  “How will we ever come up with that kind of money?” Juanita whispered into the darkness. The moon shone brilliantly through the window, illuminating the whites of her eyes. Emilio could see her fear.

  “We’ll figure it out, Juanita. We have to.”

  Emilio and Juanita recognized the danger of being caught crossing the border illegally – they could be shot out in the desert or arrested and put in prison. But, they were more terrified of staying in Mexico and watching their family die, one by one, from the Spanish Flu. They had to decide what was going to be better for the survival of their children.

  Later that night, while lying in bed, Juanita told Emilio about what she heard in town that afternoon. “Señora Ochoa told me today that five more people died this week, some of them children. I’m afraid, Emilio, really afraid. How many more days until someone else in our family gets sick? Maybe you… maybe me? Ay, Dios, maybe another one of our niños?”

  “I know, I know. I’m working on it, Juanita,” Emilio countered, defensively. “I’m getting the money together as fast as I can. I don’t know what more I can do. I’m afraid, too.” No matter what he said, he could not calm her fears.

  He hated to admit he was afraid, too. As a man, he wanted to be strong for her, for his family. He wanted her to understand he was doing everything he possibly could to get them out of Mexico soon. But, it was not an easy thing. It would mean sneaking around, selling his prized possessions, walking away from the home he built and the land he owned. But he would gladly do it for the people he loved.

  “I can’t stop thinking about the dangers,” Juanita said, interrupting his thoughts. “What would happen to our children if we get caught crossing the border? If we get killed or arrested?” Juanita’s mind was racing, playing out the scenarios of what might happen.

  She looked at him through the tears welling up in her eyes. Emilio put his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. He drew her in close and kissed her softly on her forehead.

  “I don’t know, Juanita. I don’t want to think about that. I just know our chances of dying are greater if we stay here.”

  He caressed her cheek in his strong hand. “We have to go. We don’t really have a choice,” he told her, looking deeply into her dark eyes.

  The long day had taken its toll on him and he was exhausted, he just wanted some rest. “It’s late. Let’s talk about it in the morning. Try to get some sleep.” And, without another word, he rolled over and blew out the candle on the night table next to the bed. Juanita agreed and closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer for sleep.

  * * * *

  Morning came, and Juanita reluctantly agreed with Emilio to move forward. She had tossed and turned all night, thinking of the sweet children she had already lost, weighing the costs. Not willing to lose any more children to this disease, she told Emilio she was committed to move forward with the escape plans and to pay the fee to El Jefe.

  They had a little bit of savings. Even though there wasn’t a lot of extra money to be gained working their small farm, they had previously set some funds aside they had intended to use to buy seed for next year’s crops. Emilio figured he could sell some livestock and farm equipment to collect more of the cash they needed. They couldn’t let anyone know they were trying to amass a large amount of money or people would get suspicious and maybe turn them in.

  They could not sell their farm. People would wonder why. They would just have to walk away from their home and their land.

  Discreetly, and as quickly as they could, they decided they would sell off the animals, a few at a time, and persuade neighbors to buy the farm implements, but it had to be to different people. Getting rid of too much to one person would raise suspicions. They knew that eventually their neighbors would talk to each other and discover Emilio had sold his animals and equipment to each of them, but by that time they hoped to be gone.

  Emilio went into town to see Señor Vega and let him know he had connected with Pablo. Emilio walked into the cantina and found his friend in his usual place behind the bar.

  “Hey, amigo! Qué pasó?” Señor Vega called to Emilio as he saw him enter. Emilio walked over to the counter and returned the greeting. The cantina was empty, so they were able to speak freely.

  “I wanted to tell you I talked to Pablo, and he’s making the arrangements.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I need a favor, though. Would you be willing to pick us up at our house and take us to the pick-up place?”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know yet. I haven’t heard back from Pablo, but I think it’ll be soon.”

  “Yes, I can do that for you. Just let me know when.”

  “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

  “Did you hear?” Señor Vega asked him, changing the subject. “The epidemic has already reached los Estados Unidos. But I think it’s mostly on the east and west coasts.”

  “No, I hadn’t heard.”

  “But you’re going north to Arizona, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, that’s the plan.”

  “That should be safe enough,” Señor Vega said, trying to assure him.

  “I think we’ll be all right in Arizona,” Emilio replied. But hearing this news caused a measure of fear to rise in him. He hoped his family would be safe. “I’ve got to get back home. I’ll let you know when we need you to pick us up.”

  “Not staying for a beer?”

  “No, thanks. Gotta go.”

  Emilio mounted his horse and headed for home. He wasn’t sure he should share with Juanita what he just learned from Señor Vega. It wouldn’t change anything, it would only add to her fears. She already had enough on her mind, he decided.

  * * * *

  The date and time were set to make the escape. Instructions were passed along the underground connections to all involved. Pablo came to the house late one evening to tell Juanita and Emilio of the details for their escape.

  Emilio heard the sound of horse hooves on the dirt outside and peered out the window to see Pablo dismounting. The glow from the candlelight through the windows lit the wide porch. Anxious to hear what Pablo had to say, Emilio opened the door before he had the chance to knock.

  “Come in, come in, Pablo.” Emilio’s voice was a little shaky, jittery with anticipation. Juanita and the children heard the voices and came to see what was going on.

  “Buenos noches, Emilio,” he said, taking off his hat and stepping into the humble home. Pablo was a tall, thin man, clean-shaven, in his late thirties, with black curly hair and eyes as dark as the night sky. He wore much more casual clothing than the last time Emilio had seen him working at the general store. This night, he was dressed for riding.

  “This is my wife, Juanita,” Emilio said, as she stepped forward, “and these are our niños.” The younger children were squabbling over a wooden toy, and Maria was unsuccessfully trying to moderate.

  “Shhh…niños. Go sit at the table and be quiet,” Juanita sternly ordered the children, trying to settle them down and silence their chatter. They could tell from the tone of Mama’s voice she meant business and quieted down immediately.

  “Pablo, would you like to sit down?” Juanita asked.

  “No, thank you.” He chose to remain standing with her and Emilio. “I don’t have much time, so I need you to listen closely. The escape is set for next Tuesday night. Have your family at the old abandoned Cas
tro ranch about five miles north of here at ten o’clock that night.” The children sat silently while he talked, eyes wide, sensing the tension in the room.

  “There’ll be a truck to pick everyone up,” Pablo continued. “Another family will be there, too. I believe their name is Lopez. The truck will be driven by one of El Jefe’s men, Paco, and he’ll take you to the drop-off point.”

  “How far away is the drop-off point?” Emilio asked.

  “You’ll be in the back of the flatbed for about two hours or so. There’ll be another truck meeting you there with a couple more families.”

  “Anything else?” Juanita asked nervously.

  “Make sure to tell your niños to be very, very quiet,” he said, pausing to look directly at the frightened, silent children. “Your lives could depend on it.”

  Juanita looked at Emilio. Not a word passed between them, but Emilio knew what she was thinking. Would they all be safe? Were they doing the right thing?

  “Oh, one last thing.” Pablo was heading for the door, but he stopped and turned, facing them all once more. “You can’t bring much with you. You don’t want anything to slow you down when you run across the desert. Carrying stuff will just slow you down and maybe get you caught. You all need to clear the fence quickly and keep going. The most important thing is to get yourselves and your niños to the other side.”

  Pablo turned again and started out the front door. He paused for a moment and looked back at Emilio and Juanita. A lump of hope seemed to catch in his throat as he tried to speak, the reflection of candlelight flickered in his eyes. He cleared his throat and smiled just a little.

  “Good luck,” he said. And with that he left.

  Chapter 3: An Unexpected Life

  Dear Consuela,

  I’m writing, mi hermana, to tell you my wife, Juanita, became very sick and died a few weeks ago. Without her, I cannot take care of all our children. Because you are family, I am sending our youngest daughter, Sofía, to live with you. She’ll be on the 5 o’clock train next Tuesday. I hope you will take care of her and raise her as your own. We move around a lot working on many farms and orchards. I will try to come and see her when I can.