Forensics Camp

by Kate Banco

  Then I see Memo clutching the edges of the cage and screaming my name. I can’t hear him but can tell by his facial expressions he is asking me to come and get him. His tear-stained face is red and he hardly takes a breath between cries and screams. I try to get his attention but he doesn’t see me. The tears fall down my face and I don’t know what to do. I try to get to the edge of the cage where I can motion to him but he doesn’t see me and continues to scream. I call to one of the guards and ask him to help my brother. He says someone from his group will help him.

  I say, “No, go tell him I will help him as soon as I can please.”

  “You can’t help him, kid. You guys are separated. You probably won’t be put back together again. Take care of yourself and move on.”

  “What, why are you separating us? We didn’t do anything. My father brought us and we didn’t break any laws. We just wanted to stay with my father and abuelita. We didn’t know this would happen.”

  “Boo hoo, kid. Your Papá broke the law. You two will suffer the consequences now. Hurry up and get some exercise, you’re going back to your box soon.” The guard didn’t care about us at all.

  Papá I hate you, I hate you for bringing us here. I hate you for doing this to Memo and I hate you because Mamá died. You didn’t know enough to stay home where we were safe and together. You had to leave because you had a fight with your brother. Because you and your brother fought, my little brother is crying his eyes out and scared to death. Because two grown men couldn’t get over a conflict, look what happened. I just want to die, I don’t want to go on. But someone has to watch out for Memo and Rosa. Who will if the older siblings don’t?

  We aren’t allowed to mix with the girls our age during exercise. They let them out at different times. There is no way to get a message to Adriana. It’s better she doesn’t know, she would die if she knew she’s not going to see Rosa again.

  A guard blows the whistle and yells for us to go back to our box as they call it. Some of the kids want to continue playing fútbol and don’t pay attention. The bilingual guard yells out, “Si no escuchan les van a quitar cinco minutos del recreo.”

  The boys immediately stop playing and run to get in line. No one wants to lose five minutes of exercise. We all realize that we will be penalized severely for not following instructions. No more begging your parents for cinco minutos más. These aren’t our parents and there won’t be any five more minutes for anything.

  At no time does the heat go away, It is at least ninety-five degrees in our box all the time. Very few breezes come our way. While we were out in recreo, they came in and washed down our floor and walls of the cage with a high power hose. Then they swept any debris left on the floor out and into the garbage. If anything fell off the shelves while they were cleaning it is long gone now. I rush to make sure I have my tattered picture of my mother. It’s still there, but I wonder how many days I will be able to keep it safe. It’s the only thing I have left of my mother. I hope Memo was able to keep his Spiderman toy safe. Even if he keeps it safe someone may want to take it from him. It’s a highly desirable object for children with nothing. For his sake I hope the others leave him alone.

  It’s great they washed everything down, but now the floor is damp. It’s almost time to eat dinner and if we sit down to eat, we’ll get wet. It will be difficult to sleep in wet clothes.

  We watch as they bring the food around. At each cage, they hand in food for each person. This time they give us six and we each get one. When we open it up it is a cold bean and cheese burrito, a container of applesauce and milk. We don’t complain because we are all hungry. The cold burrito isn’t bad but would be much better if it were hot and we all would like to eat two instead of one. At once we clean up our leftovers of the applesauce container and burrito wrappers and place them in the garbage in the corner. We now all realize it is going to be much easier for all of us if we keep our box clean. We’ll have fewer problems and maybe they won’t wash everything down again. We need to keep our area clean for our own comfort. It isn’t easy.

  We ask for water and the guards tell us we’ll be able to get a drink when we have our restroom break. They aren’t going to give us water bottles. Between the heat and the hunger, we need to have some water.

  They come in earlier than before to give us a restroom break, but take half of the group this time. I guess this is when they expect us to do everything we didn’t do earlier. It will be hard to do with no privacy but I guess we will get used to that too. Some of the boys come back and say there wasn’t enough time; they need to go back but you are only allowed a certain amount of time. We all hope our bodies will cooperate and not wake us in the middle of the night. For sure that will happen to one of us and it might be me.

  After everyone has had a turn in the restroom, we try to organize our sleeping arrangements. There is really only room for five full size people. Most of us are adult size even though under the age of fifteen.

  First, we try lying down in a row to see how many will fit. If we lie down that way there is no room for one person. If we lie in a pattern of tall, short, short tall, another two people can squeeze in at our feet. It’s a tight squeeze, but if we all cooperate we fit. The next problem is to figure out how to use the aluminum foil blanket they gave us. If we put three on the ground and try to cover ourselves with the other three there is always a person who doesn’t have anything to cover him .We decide to each wrap ourselves up like a burrito and try to sleep with our own blanket. It isn’t comfortable because we have no pillow and the floor is concrete, but at some point, we fall asleep. We can still hear the younger ones crying on the other side of the cages. Sometimes we hear yelling and someone telling them to be quiet. At times it’s some of the older boys who don’t have younger siblings. They don’t understand at all; they just want to sleep. Everyone is angry, scared, hungry and crying themselves to sleep.

  The next day is repetition of the first day. Fewer boys play fútbol during recreo. No one has any energy. The heat is more intense, the smell of fifty bodies mushed together in cages is more intense but the amount of food and drink remains the same. We all try to come up with a plan to get more time to wash our face and hands and drink water during toilet breaks. The plan involves two to three boys urinating at the same time to give themselves time to drink water from the sink-toilet-water fountain. We are all trying to get along but tempers are rising as well as the temperature. We spend five nights in miserable conditions and some boys in our box begin to get sick. I’m not sure if it is from the heat or if it from dehydration or quality of food. Our breakfasts consist of a banana, milk and dry cereal. We can either drink the milk and eat the cereal dry or pour it over the flakes and fill our stomachs. Either way, it’s not enough for fourteen-fifteen year old boys to stay healthy.

  On the fifth night, we are told we’ll be getting some time to take a shower. We haven’t had a shower since we first arrived. They take one group at a time out to the shower truck. They hand us soap and a towel. We are told to strip off our clothes and get in to the group shower. Some of us are so relieved to be able to wash we start splashing each other and laughing. Water is a big deal for us. We drink from the shower as we wash our bodies. As I turn to wash my hair with the soap I see a flash, then there’s another flash. Someone is taking our picture while we are in the shower naked. Who would do this to us? Why are they doing that to us? We all are furious but have no protection from the cameraman. He is a fully-clothed guard standing in the shower taking a group picture and then individual pictures of each one of us. We no longer splash and laugh. Some of the boys are screaming, and others are so angry they can’t even continue washing. They grab their towels and wrap themselves up as much as possible. Then they leave the shower.

  As we leave, we are given another white paper suit and clean slippers. It’s a relief to be clean but we feel dirty because of the photographer. They make us feel so dirty and now not only are we pris
oners but stars of naked photographs another tactic to make us feel insignificant.

  I overhear the guards talk and I hear them say, “This is nothing compared to what they are about to go through. They will wish they were back here the minute they reach their next camp.”

  Where are they sending us? How could it be worse? Does it have something to do with the photographs?

  I worry about what Memo is going through, but now I’m more concerned about where they are sending us. What fate awaits us?

  We continue with our normal routine after the shower. Recreo, dinner, restroom break and then lights out and to bed. Pepe is so sick they need to take him out to what we hope is a doctor or nurse. But we never see him again. He isn’t returned to our area and it gives us more room to sleep, but we are all afraid of getting sick and disappearing like our box mate.

  I wonder if they took photographs of the girls too. They are probably so scared, but they didn’t hear what I heard so they don’t know that the next destination will be worse than this one, and it’s better they don’t know. We all try to sleep and hope tomorrow will be a better day.

  The next thing I know there are bright lights. The whole building is lit up.We can see the whole area. It’s the most light we’ve seen in days.We all jump up when we hear the cage doors open. I hear the noise of the others as they are walked out of their cages and were told to follow different guards. Our regular guards mysteriously disappeared. They are no longer to be seen. Some of the new guards are smiling and helping the smaller ones wake up. What is happening? Is this the terrible destination I heard about. Even though these new guards are smiling I hesitate to follow them. Where are they taking us?

  As they get closer, I see a tall female guard. She is wearing cargo pants, a belt with holster and gun and a t-shirt. On her head, she wears a ball cap with the initials BIC. I’m not sure what that means, but she is smiling and that makes me trust her. With her is a young Mexican woman. She is dressed exactly like the first woman. Are they special police? Where are the other guards? Why are they smiling at us?

  The Mexican woman begins to speak to us in Spanish. She tells us we are being rescued and not to worry. They will take us to a safe place. She reassures us that we can trust them. They haven’t come to do any harm; they know what has been happening to us here and will get us out before any more harm occurs.

  Tears of joy and relief run down my face when I ask if we will be reunited with our younger siblings and the answer is yes. We will be reunited on the airplane. She also says she will explain everything once we are out of this horrible center and on a bus to the airport. As we exit the detention center we see two motor coaches parked in front. They tell us one for the girls and one for the boys so we can change our clothes on the way to the airport. But we all say, “We want to take these awful clothes off now, we want to leave this behind. Please let us change, find our siblings and ride the bus together.”

  The Mexican guard tells us that’s okay with her, but we have to hurry. She grabs the boxes of T-shirts and shorts from the bus. We are each given clean underwear, new shorts and a T-shirt with BIC written across the front and a picture of fir trees. I’ve never seen a fir tree in my life, but I did read about them in school. The cotton T-shirts are much cooler than the paper jumpsuits. We all strip and drop our paper prison uniforms in a pile. I’d like to burn them, but know there is no time.

  As soon as I am dressed, I ask permission to find my hermanito. I rush over to the younger group and look for Memo. I don’t see him anywhere. I can’t see Rosa either. I keep searching, and I ask the one guard if he speaks Spanish. He answers yes and asks how he can help me.

  I tell him about my younger brother Memo and say I can’t find him.

  He quickly looks around and then tells me to follow him. We both jump on to one of the motor coaches, and I see two women holding children in the front seats. Neither one is Memo. We walk down the aisle to look and find him cradled in the arms of one of the nurses. I yell out his name but he doesn’t respond.

  “¡Memo, soy yo! Soy tu hermano, soy Ricardo.” I cry.

  “He is going to need some TLC,” the nurse says.

  I don’t understand what TLC means. “What is that?”

  “Some tender loving care,” she says. “Leave him with me, and I’ll take care of him. You can sit here behind us and travel with us. If he wakes up and you are here he won’t be scared.”

  “What is wrong with him?” I ask.

  “He lost his family. Tell me what happened, it may help for me to know.”

  “My mother died in Mexico before we came north. My father told him she was away on a trip. He doesn’t know she died. Then when we got to the border, we were separated from my Papá and Abuelita. We don’t know where they are, only that they took my father to the Calexico area. Then when we got picked up and brought here they separated us and the guards told us we wouldn’t be reunited. I’m not sure he knew that.”

  “Pobrecito. Poor baby, he needs a mother to hold him and love him. I’ll pact as his mother while we travel.”

  I can’t believe what has happened to Memo and hope he can recover and return back to his old self. I look over and see another nurse holding Rosa. Adriana hasn’t found her yet and I wonder if I should go to tell her she’s here. I look out the window and see her coming to the motor coach with one of the female guards. Adriana steps up to the motor coach and I wave and call to her.

  “Adriana,ven aquí. Rosa is here. Memo is too.”

  She runs down the aisle and when she sees Rosa she bursts in to tears.

  “What happened? Is she sick? Why is she sleeping?”Adriana screams.

  “She’s been scared, she was separated from you and she was terrified I think,” I say.

  “Pobrecita, what can I do?” Adriana asks.

  The nurse holding Rosa speaks Spanish and calmly tells us both Memo and Rosa have been sedated by the doctor. They were so afraid and cried so much they were inconsolable. When they saw the new guards arrive they screamed and tried to fight going with their rescuers. The doctor gave them a light sedative, but the nurse says it is good to let them sleep and recover from their fright.

  Adriana is sobbing, but I think she is relieved to find kind people are helping Rosa and we can sit back and relax. I ask her to move over and sit with me. We can both watch Memo and Rosa from the seat we are in.

  I look out the window and see all of the others have been loaded on to the motor coaches. Only a tall woman, who seems to be directing everyone remains with a walkie talkie in her hand. I hear her talk to the other guard on our bus in Spanish.

  “That’s everyone, we have all fifty. Let’s get out of this hell hole.”

  I think, wait there must be more. One of ours didn’t come back where would he be? I need to decide if I tell the guards or not. What if it jeopardizes our escape?

  “Excuse me, there was a boy who got sick and left our cage. He didn’t come back. His name is Pepe. Should we look for him?” I ask.

  “We got all fifty. He was probably in the infirmary area. Did you look at the back of the bus?”

  I jump up and walk to the back. I see another nurse tending to Pepe on a stretcher, “Hola amigo, cómo estás? I was worried about you.”

  “Mucho mejor Ricardo, mucho mejor. Gracias” Pepe answers.

  I return to my seat and relax. I didn’t want to think about leaving anyone behind.

  The bus pulls out and the air conditioning feels so good. I haven’t felt this cool since our flight on the airplane. I look back at our detention center and see the huge pile of white paper overalls. The funny thing is I wished to light them on fire and that is precisely what someone did. As we drive away we leave behind an empty detention center and a flaming fire of our filthy jumpsuits and slippers.

  One of the Spanish speaking guards brings each one of us a cool water bottle and tells us to drink slo
wly. We are so thirsty we want to drink the whole bottle but try to follow her instructions. Another lady brings us sliced watermelon on a plate. I think they are worried we are dehydrated.

  When she hands the watermelon to us she says, “This will keep you until we get dinner on the plane.”

  I ask her what she said and she explains in Spanish. “Where are we flying to?” I ask.

  “We will tell you all when we are on the plane and seated. That way everyone hears the same message. There are fewer rumors that way.” She says as she moves down the aisle.

  I wonder what her story is, how is she in a position of power with a uniform and a pistol. She looks just as Mexican as I do. Do I dare ask her? I’ll wait until we know each other a little better.

  Will they fly us back to Mexico? Will they send us to live with families? I start to get nervous but realize there is nothing I can do to change any of it. I try to relax. I lean back and close my eyes. This is the most comfortable I’ve been in days. I drift off to sleep.

  The bus stops and my eyes instantly open. Where are we? In front of us is a large plane. On the side is written RES AIR. It looks like a much nicer plane than the one they flew us in the first time. It looks brand new.

  The guard stands at the front of the bus and gives instructions, “Okay, we are all going to get on that plane, but we first want the nurses and sick children to board. Can we do that?”

  Everyone agrees and stays seated while the nurses and sick children are helped off the motor coach and down to the waiting wheelchairs and stretchers. I grab Pepe’s hand as he passes by.

  “I’ll see you on the plane amigo okay?” I say.

  “Okay. Gracias mi amigo.” Pepe answers.

  This plane trip feels a lot more relaxed. We aren’t being pushed and yelled at. We aren’t as afraid and after what we’ve been through we want to have hope that this will be better. When we board the plane we see there is an area for the stretchers and wheelchairs in the front. I walk past and try to get a seat as close to Memo as possible. The nurse is seated in a large recliner-type chair still holding Memo. It looks like they don’t want him to be alone. I’m thankful for that, but it worries me they don’t think he is strong enough to be on his own. The same has happened to Rosa. Adriana and I sit next to each other. I also see Pepe is still on the stretcher. He looks comfortable, but they have IVs on a pole next to his bed. He is sicker than they thought. Maybe he was sick when he got to the detention center and it was too much for him.