“Very violent. He’d grab her by the neck and try to strangle her. When he turned on me as well, she knew she had to get away. She knew it was only a matter of time before he went too far. She’d seen it with a friend of hers who’d left it too late. Her friend and her young children died. The cops did nothing. Like my dad, her husband was a member of the army, somehow protected. They were too good at what they did, had been trained extremely well by American forces.”
“So she ran. With you and Drew?”
“With me,” I confirm. “The last night before we ran, my father had broken my arm, then turned on her. He raped her. She didn’t know she was expecting until she got to America.”
“Drew was born here?” His face suggests he’s quickly sifted through the data again. “So he’s an American citizen.”
“He is,” I say proudly, then the corners of my mouth turn down. “But I’m not.”
“Your mom? What happened to her?”
I close my eyes, it’s still too raw and painful. Blinking back tears I explain, “She applied for asylum. The case dragged on and on. She’d managed to smuggle out some of her family’s jewellery. It was all sold to pay for a lawyer to progress a case that was surely cut and dried. If she went back to Colombia, my dad, who’d apparently risen in rank, would find out about it. He’d kill her for running.”
“He know about Drew?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I hope not.”
His hand covers mine. “Continue.”
“She lost her case.” Tears come to my eyes and I brush them away. “Even after ten years when we’d asked nothing from society. Both me and Drew were doing well at school, she was working three jobs to pay for us. They came and took her. Didn’t care that she had kids she was leaving behind.” Again, my hand wipes over my face, clearing away the tears that have escaped. “They took her while we were at school. Got home, she wasn’t here.”
A sharp inhale comes from my side. “Surely they came back to check you were okay? She must have told them about you? Did you have relatives? Friends who could help?”
Moving my head side to side, I let him know. “No, no one. No one from the authorities came, they either ignored or forgot about us. We had no close friends or relatives. You see, when you’re flying under the radar, you don’t know who to trust. I did the only thing I could, I decided to do my best for Drew. I had to keep up school, knew that. But got what cash-in-hand jobs I was able to find. Just about managed to keep our heads above water. You could say I grew up fast.”
“How old were you?”
“I was fourteen, Drew coming up on nine.”
“Fuck.” His eyes, slightly unfocused, look into the distance. “What happened to your mother?”
“She rang,” I explain. “We still had a phone then. She was held in a detention centre. I couldn’t visit as there was no one to take me. She impressed on me, whatever happened, whoever spoke to me, I was to say nothing. Not tell anyone about Drew. And never to leave the US. Guess she didn’t want my father to learn of his existence. Then,” again my voice breaks, “I didn’t get another phone call. I presumed she was deported without being able to tell me.”
“And after that?” His face is set, his aquiline features standing out as his muscles tense. “Did you hear from her again?”
“I had some letters. It hadn’t taken long for my father to find her. With no money, she’d had no option but to stay with her mother, her one surviving relative. It took him no time to track her down and force her to go with him. She warned me. Her situation was even worse than she’d expected. He’d found out about Drew—seen the scar from the caesarean operation and forced her to tell him. She warned me to stay hidden. Then the correspondence ceased. After that I heard about her. Not from her.” I try to suppress the sob that rises into my throat. When he goes to comfort me, I wave him back. “From her mother. Mom had died. My grandmother didn’t give details. I think I know the reason for that.”
“Ma, why are you telling him?” Drew’s agonised voice is closer than I thought. With my head in my hands I hadn’t heard him leave his room. “You’ve only just met him. You’ve only got a few years…”
Beside me, Mouse stands up. “A few years for what?”
“Ma,” Drew warns.
Ignoring him, I tell Tse. “I’m what’s known as a Dreamer. Became one when I was fifteen. Get the paperwork renewed every two years. I should have protection for another year, until it’s time to renew again. That’s, of course, if I can. Who knows how things are going to change?”
“So you’re not technically illegal?”
“I am, but with a certain degree of legitimacy. Unless I do something which puts me on the wrong side of the law.”
“When I’m twenty-one, I can sponsor my sister,” Drew puts in, almost proudly. “She should be able to get her green card.”
I smile at him, but know it’s unlikely. Apart from all the other impossible hoops I’d need to jump through, to be a sponsor, he will need to show he earns an income sufficient to support me. We’d need to pay a lawyer to take us through that minefield. It’s expensive, and I earn no more than what allowsme to keep a roof over our heads, and a growing boy fed. I shoot Tse a look, luckily he interprets it. Drew seems old for his age, but he’s still just a boy of fifteen.
Tse sends me a look of understanding. Instead of asking for more details, he suggests, “I’ll go out and get that bulb, shall I?” Pausing, he looks around the trailer. “Lock the door after I’ve gone.”
“How did you manage to get through the fence?” Drew asks, his eyes narrowing.
“That reminds me,” Tse grins. “I’ll buy a new padlock while I’m there. The one you’ve got is too easy to pick.”
