“Tse, I’m scared.” His voice quivers.
Fuck. He would be. Sounds like the police could have used a trumped-up excuse to pick her up. “Have you got a lawyer?”
I know it’s a stupid question as soon as I ask it.He’s a fifteen-year-old kid for fuck’s sake.But I still listen to the answer. “No.”
“Any friends you can call to help? What about one of your teachers?”
Now there’s a definite sob. “No. We never tell anyone our business. I wouldn’t know who to trust.”
He trusts me.
“I’m so scared she’s going to be deported.”
So am I.All my thoughts of the past few weeks assault me. The idea that I might have lost my chance to get to know Mariana better is chilling. Now that Ican’tgo visit her, I realise how important seeing her again was to me. I don’t understand it, but something in my blood, whether it’s Anglo or Navajo, sees my strange yearning for her as significant.She could be something to me.But I won’t get a chance to find out. Not if she’s back in Colombia.
“You at home?” When I get the grunt in confirmation, I make a hasty decision. “I’m not in Tucson right now, but I’m going to come back, okay? Sit tight, we’ll work it out.” I try to sound confident, when inside I’m already worried this is likely to be one problem I can’t find a solution to. “I’ll be there by morning, okay?”
His exhaled breath, heavy with relief, shows I’m doing the right thing. Can’t leave a boy that age to worry alone.
Mom’s used to me being called away, so doesn’t question or push me to provide a reason, only worried I’m making the three-hundred-mile journey at night. But there’s an inexplicable sense of urgency driving me. Knowing the feeling eating at me would prevent me sleeping, I might as well use the night hours to get back to Tucson.
There’s barely any traffic, and I make the trip in under seven hours, bypassing the Satan’s Devils’ compound and going directly to the trailer park where Drew and Mariana live. I don’t think about removing my cut in my urgency to find out what’s happening. During the journey, I’ve started to think Drew’s right to be concerned. This could be the first step in Mariana being deported. What happens next might be down to me. There’s little a fifteen-year-old boy with no support can do.
Trouble is, I’ve fuck all idea of where to start.
It’s six am when I arrive. It’s only when I approach the trailer I realise how tired I am. As I hear movement inside, I wipe my hand over my sore eyes.I need coffee.And, for the first time in weeks, I could do with a joint. The latter will have to wait until I return to the compound, I don’t carry my gear with me.
“Tse. You came.” There’s such a look of relief on his face as he unlocks the padlock on the chain-link fence, that I suspect he thought I wouldn’t.
I’m carrying my laptop that I got out of my saddle bag. I’ve had a hundred thoughts during the long journey. I’m a hacker. Why the fuck hadn’t I given Mariana a new identity before now, legit paperwork, everything? But I’d thought she’d been safe, protected under the DACA program. Never did I consider she’d bring herself to the attention of the cops.And I hadn’t admitted I cared what happened to her.Thought myself crazy for not being able to get her off my mind. I thought I was doing right by staying away.
“Have you heard anything more, Drew?”
“No. I don’t know what to do, Tse.” Poor lad is rubbing at his face, he sounds distraught. Like me he looks like he hasn’t slept a wink.
I’m playing it by ear too.I frown. “If the police are holding her, then she might need a lawyer. First thing we can do is getdown there, see if she’s been charged and why they are keeping her.”
“Do you know any lawyers?” he asks hopefully. I notice a little colour has come back into his cheeks, confirming I was right to drive through the night to be here.
I do know a lawyer. Whether she’d be able to help or not is another question. “Grab me a coffee, and I’ll give someone a call in,” I glance at my watch, “another hour or so.”
In the meantime, I open my laptop and do some digging. A search on Mariana’s name reveals a short newspaper report. I skim it, my brow creasing. “Drew. Mariana told you she was stopped at a red light?”
“She did.”
That’s not what the news says at all. He’s clearly curious, so I turn the laptop so he can see it, then sit back and fold my arms, mentally going over what the article said.
Insurance Fraud
Todd Jenkins reports he was driving his Ford Explorer towards a green light this morning when the car in front of him, driven by Ms Mariana De Souza (20), slammed on the brakes, causing him to run into her.
Police have arrested Ms De Souza and are questioning her about a possible attempt to commit insurance fraud.
Short and sweet. Also, totally untrue. Might not have spent much time with her, but her number one priority was not to draw attention to herself and to obey every fucking rule of the road.
Drew turns his wide eyes toward me. Not for the first time, I notice he’s got the same features and expression as his sister, and it strikes me how wrong it seems that he’s a US citizen, and she might already be facing deportation. Splitting up families seems all wrong.He’s just a kid. He still needs her.
“This is crazy.” Drew looks back to the screen. “That’s not Mariana. She’d never do something like that. Tse, she wouldn’t.” He looks like he’s trying to convince me, as though I might think she’s not worth saving if she’d commit a crime.
