hardness to her eyes, like a stone cliff overlooking a pool of water. There was also a sliver of hope amid the stone. A ridge of pumice along the edge that might lead to something more.
“Do you trust him? Can you believe what he’s saying, or is this a trap?”
She looked away again. “I don’t think I have a choice. I have to trust that this will help me.”
He stared at the key chains, names swinging on a rack. “You do have a choice.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Tell me then. What don’t I understand?”
“The danger you’re in. If you stay with me, you will die. You may die no matter what happens.”
“That’s comforting. You should speak at one of those positive-thinking seminars.” He smiled but she didn’t return it. “Maria, I’m not afraid of dying.”
The mention of her name brought a response, but just as quickly she shut down.
“That sounds like something an American would say. Until you realize what dying looks like.”
“I thought we were the only ones who were racist,” J. D. said.
“What do you mean?”
“People here, the ones who don’t know any better, judge you because of your skin color. And here you are telling me I’m just another ignorant gringo.”
“That is not racist; that is the truth.”
“Well, excuse me, but that doesn’t sound much differentfrom every redneck in these parts and what they say about Mexicans. I’ve heard it on the farm, in bars, and other than jobs, it’s all they talk about at political meetings. It’s not right to judge people because of the way they look. And I’ll be the judge of whether or not I want to get involved with you. I don’t need you making that decision because you think I’m stupid.”
“I didn’t say you were stupid.”
“Yeah, you did. I’m an American. I don’t understand the danger.”
She folded her arms and looked at the floor. “I’m not ungrateful for what you’ve done. I am thankful for your help.”
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”
“I will try to do better. But I think it is best if you take me to this place where I can be safe.”
He could see it beginning, like the sky opening up at sunup, a little shard of light. He could be done with this, done with the bullets flying and the uncertainty, done with her. But something inside didn’t want to be done. She had become a stowaway somewhere inside his heart, and he didn’t want to let go. He knew why but couldn’t stop the feelings from rising.
Once they pulled out, Maria gave him the location of a gas station on East Speedway where her contact would meet them in two hours. Over toward the Rincons near Tanque Verde. He knew exactly where it was. It wasn’t that far from the farmers’ market where Slocum would set up the next morning.
“Who are the people you’re supposed to meet?”
“I spoke with them.”
“Who are they?”
“They know me. Friends I know in Tucson.”
“I thought you didn’t have friends in Tucson. That’s what you told Win.”
“These people are with a church that comes to our town. The Tabernacle.”
“So they gave you their address and told you to hurry on over? That doesn’t add up. It’s better if you stay disconnected with all of that and stay with somebody Muerte and your family don’t know.”
“Muerte already has information about you.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I know him.”
Back to third base. Back to the ignorant American.
“Just take me there,” she said. “Do you know where it is?”
“Yeah, I know how to get there.” He checked his watch. “Let’s get something to eat first.”
“Someone can pick me up if you won’t take me. That might be safer for you.”
“I’m taking you. If that’s what you decide, I’ll drive. But I don’t want you going into an ambush.”
“These people care for me.”
He cut over to the interstate and took Kolb Road north. They passed the boneyard of Davis-Monthan Air Force Base, a menagerie of aircraft
“Do you trust him? Can you believe what he’s saying, or is this a trap?”
She looked away again. “I don’t think I have a choice. I have to trust that this will help me.”
He stared at the key chains, names swinging on a rack. “You do have a choice.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Tell me then. What don’t I understand?”
“The danger you’re in. If you stay with me, you will die. You may die no matter what happens.”
“That’s comforting. You should speak at one of those positive-thinking seminars.” He smiled but she didn’t return it. “Maria, I’m not afraid of dying.”
The mention of her name brought a response, but just as quickly she shut down.
“That sounds like something an American would say. Until you realize what dying looks like.”
“I thought we were the only ones who were racist,” J. D. said.
“What do you mean?”
“People here, the ones who don’t know any better, judge you because of your skin color. And here you are telling me I’m just another ignorant gringo.”
“That is not racist; that is the truth.”
“Well, excuse me, but that doesn’t sound much differentfrom every redneck in these parts and what they say about Mexicans. I’ve heard it on the farm, in bars, and other than jobs, it’s all they talk about at political meetings. It’s not right to judge people because of the way they look. And I’ll be the judge of whether or not I want to get involved with you. I don’t need you making that decision because you think I’m stupid.”
“I didn’t say you were stupid.”
“Yeah, you did. I’m an American. I don’t understand the danger.”
She folded her arms and looked at the floor. “I’m not ungrateful for what you’ve done. I am thankful for your help.”
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”
“I will try to do better. But I think it is best if you take me to this place where I can be safe.”
He could see it beginning, like the sky opening up at sunup, a little shard of light. He could be done with this, done with the bullets flying and the uncertainty, done with her. But something inside didn’t want to be done. She had become a stowaway somewhere inside his heart, and he didn’t want to let go. He knew why but couldn’t stop the feelings from rising.
Once they pulled out, Maria gave him the location of a gas station on East Speedway where her contact would meet them in two hours. Over toward the Rincons near Tanque Verde. He knew exactly where it was. It wasn’t that far from the farmers’ market where Slocum would set up the next morning.
“Who are the people you’re supposed to meet?”
“I spoke with them.”
“Who are they?”
“They know me. Friends I know in Tucson.”
“I thought you didn’t have friends in Tucson. That’s what you told Win.”
“These people are with a church that comes to our town. The Tabernacle.”
“So they gave you their address and told you to hurry on over? That doesn’t add up. It’s better if you stay disconnected with all of that and stay with somebody Muerte and your family don’t know.”
“Muerte already has information about you.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I know him.”
Back to third base. Back to the ignorant American.
“Just take me there,” she said. “Do you know where it is?”
“Yeah, I know how to get there.” He checked his watch. “Let’s get something to eat first.”
“Someone can pick me up if you won’t take me. That might be safer for you.”
“I’m taking you. If that’s what you decide, I’ll drive. But I don’t want you going into an ambush.”
“These people care for me.”
He cut over to the interstate and took Kolb Road north. They passed the boneyard of Davis-Monthan Air Force Base, a menagerie of aircraft
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