Forensics Camp

by Kate Banco

  “Okay, de acuerdo. I’ll call you if we need you,” my mom smiles.

  I look around and notice the beautiful brick work and Mexican-style murals on the walls. The shop is bright, colorful and very welcoming. Some students sit at the tables and a couple of families as well. The shop is rarely empty. Business people from downtown often stop in for lunch or a carry out. The glass-doored fridge is full of Jarritos brand sodas and some Pepsi products. Papá says many people have changed from Pepsi to the Mexican brand Jarritos soda because of the flavors available like tamarindo, tangerine and pineapple, flavors that are not available in most stores.

  Papá also is bringing in new products all the time. A new display case sits in the back of the kitchen awaiting installation near the front counter. He has contracted with a company from Rochester to bring pan dulce. It is a bit out of the way for them, but they also want to open up a market in this area. They will supply freshly made Mexican bread and pan dulce every morning. Another reason my Papá needs a nap, he has to be up at 4:30 to receive the order every day. It’s the only way they can have fresh sweet breads when they open at six am. With the addition of the pan dulce they will also sell a lot more coffee. Champurrado, a thick corn-based chocolate drink is also available. Many students have acquired a taste for the cinnamon-flavored hot chocolate. They will soon have to hire some extra help, there is no way they can run the shop with the two of them.

  “Mamá, you are going to need some help here. You and Papá are working too hard. As you add more things your business increases. What will you do when you can’t keep up with the work? You need to add some student workers in the morning to help you.”

  “Your father doesn’t want to deal with employees, but I think you are right. There are a few new businesses opening up down the street. There’s a tech company and their employees come down at least twice a day. Sometimes for coffee other times for tacos or burritos. With those new employees it has become busier. When the pan dulce starts they may come in more often.”

  “You should start thinking about it soon. If you want I can put up some flyers on campus. Some students really want to practice their Spanish but can’t afford to go abroad. They can practice right here in the community with you,” I suggest.

  “That’s a good idea, your father might be more open to hiring students if he can explain things to them in Spanish. He worries he won’t be able to communicate with employees. Can you make a flyer and show it to your father?”

  “Sure, how many hours? How much do you pay? When do you need them?”

  “So many questions. Try to make a flyer that you think will attract a good employee, then bring it to us. We’ll let you know if it’s what we want. Okay?”

  “Sure, Mamá. I’ll work on it. Can I get some food to go? I’ll go in the kitchen and make it myself. “

  “Go ahead, hija. I’ve got some customers here.”

  I go into the massive kitchen behind the counter. Two large refrigerators cover one wall, with a steam table located nearby. The tortilla machine isn’t working at the moment, but it takes up most of the other wall. I don’t know how my Papá has visualized this monstrous machine in the front window, but it probably will draw in customers. However, it doesn’t appear they are hurting for customers. I look around and decide to get some arroz con pollo and salad to take home to Marcos. The rice and beans are already prepared, then I need to add the chicken to the sauce. I grab the ingredients I need and decide to warm everything up at home instead of making it here. I leave the kitchen with two plates of ingredients of arroz con pollo and salad. I pick up some sour cream and salsa containers from the fridge in front of the counter. I think back to the time I doubted whether to buy sour cream or real cream while living and working with my Tío Enrique. It seems so long ago, but I was so afraid of making a mistake and making my uncle angry. What a terrible time! I try to stop thinking about it. What might my cousins José and Natalia be doing right now? How are they coping with their Papá in prison? Do they ever wonder what happened to me? Do they know I helped get their Papá convicted? I feel a little guilty I disrupted their life. But their father participated in sex trafficking of children and young adults. I needed to help get him put away. If I could talk to José and Natalia I would, but we aren’t allowed to reconnect with anyone from our past.

  Sandy and Junior come in through the back alley and rush over to see me.

  “Sa…Margarita!” I realize how hard it is for them to not call me Sara.

  I greet Sandy and Junior using their new names.

  “Hola, Sandy.” She likes the americanization of her name. “Hola Junior. I’m so happy to see you,” and I pull them both into a hug.

  I couldn’t bear the thought of either one of them getting involved with Tío Enrique and I feel no remorse for what I did. The idea that Karina, Jose and Natalia are in a terrible situation makes me nauseous, but I needed to protect my family.

  Students stop by every day to buy a taco after class. Their business is doing well and my mother is adjusting to the weather here. Winters are bitter cold and the snow is deep, but the sun shines a lot. The sunshine seems to help her depression. She also has decided this is our life now and she needs to accept it. Her new name, Francesca, helps her take on a happier persona. My Papá is now called Luís and their taco shop’s name is Francesca’s Tacos.

  Chapter 3

  Oswego, New York

  My daily schedule here in Oswego begins at the local coffee shop. There are so many around the SUNY Oswego campus, but I prefer a coffee shop where the locals go. Teodoro has an early class so he walks me to the coffee shop around 7:30 every day. At first when I started going there I didn’t know anyone. Now a few regulars greet me when I go for coffee.

  Part of our ESL class is Conversational English. We are asked to go out in to the community and learn to speak to people we don’t know. Teodoro doesn’t like to meet new people, he would rather study. But I love talking to people and learning about their lives.

  I recently met a woman named Joy. It’s such a coincidence because she is the assistant medical examiner for Oswego County. I want to ask her so many questions but think I should be patient. Today I see she is sitting alone and I ask if I can share her table. She looks up from her phone and smiles.

  “Absolutely, I was hoping I’d see you again. How are you?” she asks as she smiles and puts her phone down.

  “I’m fine. I need to get some practice for my ESL class and wanted to ask you if you would mind talking with me.”

  “Sure, I love to talk. Any specific topic?” She asks.

  “No, but I would love to hear about your job. I want to be an FBI investigator and next semester I want to start my forensics classes.”

  “What is your schedule like? I can take you on some ride alongs if you have time,” Joy says.

  “What is a ride-along? Is it where I follow you around? We were told if we can get a job shadow it will help our English a lot. Is it like a job shadow?”

  “You could say that. A ride-along is where a deputy, police officer or in my case deputy medical examiner, invites you to ride with us for a morning or an afternoon. If you have some time early mornings before class I can take you along.”

  “That would be fantastic. I would love that. It would be like on-the-job training. When can I start?” I ask.

  “How about tomorrow? What time is your first class?” Joy asks.

  “I need to be back on campus by 10:30 at the latest,” I say with excitement.

  I can’t imagine my luck, first I stop in for coffee and meet the deputy medical examiner and then she asks me to do a ride-along. I can’t wait to tell Teodoro. He will be so jealous. Until lately I haven’t even mentioned the word luck. When people would say I was lucky I’d lash out and tell them to never tell me I’m lucky. I guess I feel like my luck is changing since we’ve moved to Oswego. We are safe, our whole family is
here and everyone is healthy. Now, I get the opportunity to start learning about my dream job, Forensics Agent for the FBI.

  “Hello, are you still here?” Joy asks as she waves her hand in front of my face.

  “Yes, sorry. I just can’t believe I can go on a ride-along with you. I can go tomorrow. Just tell me where to meet you,” I say.

  “Give me your address and I’ll pick you up. Or would you rather meet here?” Joy asks.

  “Let’s meet here. It’s easier for me.” I answer.

  “Okay, see you here tomorrow at 7:45. Coffee is on me.” Joy says with a smile as she grabs her phone and stands up. I’ve only talked to her a few times but I already know she loves to dress up. I can’t believe she dresses up to be the medical examiner. Today her black fishnet stockings, stilettos and mini sweater dress looks more like she might be walking down Fifth Avenue in New York City than going to work here in Oswego.

  “How should I dress?” I ask Joy.

  “However you want. I’m not the fashion police. You can dress just how you are right now. See you tomorrow,” She says.

  “Okay, I can’t wait,” I say with a smile.

  I finish my coffee and decide it’s time for me to go to meet Teodoro in class.

  I enter the ESL class and when Teodoro looks at me I can’t help but grin. I can see he is curious why I’m so happy.

  “Something new happen? You look very happy,” he says.

  “Guess what I get to do tomorrow,” I say as I slide into the desk next to him.

  “I don’t know, give me a hint.”

  “Remember I told you I met Joy, the deputy medical examiner, at coffee?” I ask.

  “Yes.,and…?”

  “Tomorrow I get to do a ride-along with her. She invited me,” I smile.

  “Tell me what a ride-along is, I’m not sure,” Teodoro says.

  I laugh and say, “I had to ask Joy too. It’s when a police officer or medical examiner offers to take you with them for part of the day. Isn’t that great?”

  “I’m jealous,” Teodoro says.

  “I meet the best people in coffee shops,” I laugh.

  The following day Teodoro walks me to the coffee shop I know he wants to go with us, but I’m sure the invitation was for me only. He dawdles around more than normal when he gets his coffee. I’m sure he wants to meet Joy, but I tell him he should get going so I can meet up with her. Reluctantly, he gives me a kiss on the cheek, grabs his coffee and heads out to walk to campus.

  A few minutes later Joy walks in to the coffee shop. Today, she is wearing a black bowler hat with flowers on it, a mini skirt and short stiletto boots. People definitely stop to stare at her wherever she goes. I still think she’d fit in fine on Park Avenue in New York City, but here in Oswego she is considered a little eccentric. She orders her coffee and asks if I’m ready to go.

  We both stand up and grab our things. I follow her out of the coffee shop and look to see what vehicle Joy gets in. To my surprise it isn’t a subdued black or silver government vehicle. Somehow I thought she would have a car similar to the police force. I hear her click her remote to open the car and I walk toward a dark suburban. She walks toward a bright orange Challenger with black stripes and says, “Where you going? This is my car. Get in.”

  I jump in the passenger seat and fasten my seat belt. I notice she has backed her car in to the parking spot. She revs the car up and we easily pull out in to the street. I wonder why she parks that way.

  “Why…” I begin to ask.

  “Do I back in? It’s something you learn when you are a first responder. Firemen, police, EMTs all park like this. When they get a call they can jump in and pull in to traffic much easier and without waiting to back out. Now, it’s just habit. I do it even if I’m not working.”

  “Makes sense,” I say and realize there are so many things I need to learn about being an investigator.

  Joy presses down on the accelerator and we take off down the street and roll through a yellow light without slowing down. “You’ll learn how to drive aggressively if you need to get to a crime scene quick. You don’t want anyone messing up your crime area.The experienced investigators have to help the younger inexperienced ones or we won’t have anyone to replace us when we leave.”

  “Are you leaving?” I ask with surprise.

  “No, not for a long time but by then, you will be an experienced investigator and you can step right in my shoes even if they are stilettos.

  I smile to think that there is a possibility I can become as experienced as Joy. How long will it be before I feel as confident as she is. Before I can ask any questions, Joy starts to tell me to be observant today, don’t touch anything or step on anything. Her first stop is to a house outside of Oswego. An unattended death was called in early this morning and they need a medical examiner to stop by before they can move the body. Joy speeds up on the curves as we leave town and I can see the look of determination on her face. She enjoys her job and loves driving.

  “Have you ever seen a dead body before?” She asks without taking her eyes off the road.

  “No, I haven’t. It will be my first,” I say.

  “Do you think you’ll get queasy? Reach inside the glove compartment there, pull out the jar of Vicks Vaporub,” she instructs.

  I reach in and pull out the blue jar. I twist off the cap and look to her for more instructions.

  “Stick your finger in and get a dab on the end, then put it underneath your nose above your lip. It helps in case there are any smells,” she smiles.

  “Wasn’t the body just found this morning? Will it smell already?” I ask.

  “We never know, but since it’s your first time go ahead and put some under your nose. It won’t hurt. Sometimes people call in an unattended death and say they just found it. But it could be the body has been there a while. We never know,” Joy says.

  I place the cold remedy under my nose and hope the body won’t be too smelly. That would be a shock if the first body was in the decomposition stage already. Joy slows the car and turns in to the driveway and rolls up the hill to where an old farmhouse sits.

  “Okay, watch me. Make sure you have gloves on at all times and like I said, don’t touch anything, okay?” Joy says.

  “I’ll be right behind you all the time. If you want me to do something, let me know. Otherwise I’ll observe,” I whisper.

  “Why are you whispering? The body can’t hear you,” Joy laughs.

  I smile and say, “I don’t know, just thought out of respect I should be quiet. You are right the dead body can’t hear me.”

  “Let’s go. I’ll grab my bag from the trunk. You grab a pair of gloves from the trunk and stick an extra pair in your pocket.”

  I notice Joy has a change of shoes. She pulls out a pair of zipper boots and puts them on. She leaves her stilettos in the trunk. “I always change into my steel-toed work boots. Just in case the crime scene is messy. You never know. I wouldn’t want to ruin my shoes.”

  I notice Joy doesn’t put her gloves on right away, so I wait until she does to put mine on.

  We walk up to the house and see a middle-aged man waiting on the porch. He raises his hand and waves at us. “You the medical examiner?” He asks.

  “Yes, I’m Joy, the Oswego County Deputy Medical Examiner. I’m here to document an unattended death,” She puts her hand out to shake the farmer’s hand. He shakes her hand and turns to go in to the house before Joy can introduce me. He assumes I am an assistant and unimportant. I would feel the same way if I were in his shoes.

  “It’s my mother. She went to bed at her normal time last night but didn’t come down to breakfast this morning. When I checked on her I,” he hesitates before finishing the sentence. “… found her with her eyes open and not breathing. I wish she had her eyes closed when I found her. Hard to get that out of my mind.”

&nb
sp; “How old is your mother, sir?” Joy asks.

  “Well, she turned ninety last week. Hadn’t been sick in years, was fit as a fiddle. Still did the laundry and mopped the floors every Saturday. I didn’t think last night would be the last time I talked with her.”

  “Anyone else at home, sir?” Joy asks.

  “Yes, my wife. But she left this morning when we realized Mother had passed. Went down to the church to tell the ladies. Mom has a few friends who would want to know right away. No sense waiting to get the news out,” he says with a sigh.

  “No sir, ninety years old is a good life. She lived long, more than a lot of people. Did her husband pass recently?” Joy asks.

  “No, he died twenty years ago. She lived with my wife and me since then.”

  “Okay, my assistant, Margarita, and I would like to take a look. Can you show us where your mother is, sir?” Joy asks in a calm voice.

  “Follow me upstairs, she’s where we found her.”

  We follow the man up the stairs and I think to myself, does Joy usually do this all by herself? She goes in to people’s homes when they call without thinking it could be a difficult situation. I’ll have to ask her.

  Joy turns to me and it’s as if she reads my mind. “I don’t normally come alone, but since I had you today and it’s an elderly person I don’t think we need anyone else.”

  We enter the room and it’s obvious the woman has passed away. Joy gently closes her eyes and listens to her chest with her stethoscope. She takes a blood sample, labels it and puts it in her bag. When she is finished she asks the man if he has called the funeral home for pick up. His answer is no, didn’t know what to do before we got there.

  Joy grabs her phone and calls in to her office. She lets them know there are no signs of struggle or violence and suspects it is a natural death. Joy turns to the man and says, “Which funeral home do you prefer? Fair Haven or Oswego?”