The sound of the speeding cars no longer startled him; he’d been walking along the side of the highway most of the night, with out any idea of what time it was, or how many hours had passed since he had crawled out of the pipe. His feet ached. His back ached. Exhaustion gripped him by the bones. Stomach churning, he suddenly became aware of the tremendous hunger that resided in him. It’d been at least 48 hrs since his last meal. The nerves hadn’t let him eat.
He thought of his family, and wondered where they were. He figured that by this time they should be in San Jose, and would be expecting a call from him soon. The realization that no one knew where he was suddenly hit him, and it settled like a heavy rock on his chest. A rush of panic hit him and he attempted to run and was merely being able to trot and stumble. He stopped.
Cars rushed by him. Moving lights in an endless darkness; disappearing almost instantly as they moved closer to their destinations. What next. How long until the highway hits a town. Thinking of how to inform them of his location. He kept moving down the road. He walked so much he had lost track of the distance that he had traveled; no idea of where he was or where this highway was leading.
Walking aimlessly made his mind wander, and a flurry of thoughts began to crowd his head. He remembered the small market stand he had in Queretaro, how it had been enough to provide a comfortable living. He thought about all the problems that haunted his family. Of his older brother yelling profanities at him, while he watched from inside his house. Thoughts of the night when he made the decision to bring his family to this place. Thoughts of his family. How they had dressed up and gotten up early one day so they could go to Mexico City and get their passport. He thought about how it was only he who had not been given a visa.
His train of thought was broken the flash of some slowing lights. He watched them slow until they came to a stop a few yards ahead of him. Maintaining his pace he walked up to the lights, which had now materialized into a moving truck. Inside the driver said something in English, which he understood as an invitation to get in. No second thoughts, no doubts, no fear. He climbed in.
“Where ya headed?”
San Jose – he said
“ I’m going to Nevada but I can give you a ride up north for a bit”
The next few minutes were awkward. Silence crowded the cabin of the small truck. The man driving was a light skinned blond, he didn’t seem dangerous, still it was best to stay awake. The blonde man looked over at him, “you look exhausted.” In broken English he explained what had happened, and how he had walked for so long. “don’t worry, the migra usually doesn’t patrol this far in.” The blonde man took out some pills and handed them to him, “here, they will help you rest.” With out knowing why, he took them.
It was the voice of the Driver that woke him.
“Hey, I didn’t want to wake you, but we are a few miles from Nevada”
He didn’t realize he had fallen asleep. Nadamas cerre los ojos poquito, he though. His body had just given in to temptation.
Nevada? Mierda…y ahora que.