that rolled her body from side to side, she squired Lupe towards the
rusted-out remains of an old Pontiac where someone had spray-painted the side
of it with the warning: THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY! IF I CATCH YOU HERE I WILL
SHOOT YOU. Wished I’d noticed that sooner.
The sheer relief of not having a loaded shotgun
pointed at me left my knees softer than overcooked noodles. I’d certainly had
more than my share of adrenaline for one day, I decided ruefully, leaning my
body weight against a pile of empty crates while I assessed this very
un-ministerlike woman whose girth almost exceeded her height. Trying to
picture her in the pulpit preaching to a congregation strained my imagination.
Now out of earshot, she proceeded to give Lupe a
thorough dressing down. I could tell by the pointed finger jabs in my
direction that she was discussing my fate.
A
full five minutes passed before they turned and began walking back towards me.
I pushed to my feet. The look of cautious expectancy on Lupe’s face indicated
that she had prevailed, but Sister Goldenrod was still evil-eyeing me as they
re-entered the garage.
Sister Goldenrod said, “I’m going to take Lupe’s word
that you’re going to keep your yap shut about my little visitor, is that
right?”
I mustered a placating smile. “That’s correct. I am a
reporter, but rest assured that I’m here unofficially. I don’t plan to do or
say anything that would jeopardize her situation or yours, or his for that
matter.”
She looked uncertain, but inclined her head toward the
pink house. “I hope I don’t regret this. If the Border Patrol or INS gets
wind that I’m hiding this child, my ass is grass and he will be deported
to God knows where. You got that?”
“Got it.” For a supposed woman of the cloth, she sure
had a foul mouth.
The three of us fell into step. “Has the boy been able
to tell you where he’s from or how he got here? Was he traveling with
relatives?”
Sister Goldenrod’s breath came in wheezy gasps as we
crunched along the gravel driveway. “I don’t think the little guy even knows
what country he’s from,” she replied with a sad shake of her head. “Probably
Mexico, but he might have come from someplace in Central America, El Savador,
Costa Rica, who knows? All I’ve been able to gather so far is that he and his
family lived high in the mountains and that he and his mother came here to find
his father. He also keeps babbling about bright colored lights and horses
chasing him. At least I think that’s what he’s saying.” She turned to Lupe.
“You’ll probably have better luck than me understanding him. That is, if he’ll
even talk to you.”
“Lupe told me about his weird abduction story,” I put
in. “Has he been able to furnish any more details about that night?”
She pursed her lips as if debating whether to answer
me or not, and finally said, “Not many. You know how it is with kids and
their imagination. It’s hard to tell fact from fiction, dreams from reality.
But something strange must have happened out there in the desert to make him so
traumatized. I mean, it’s taken me days to get him to come out from under the
bed. Now he insists on staying in the closet because he’s afraid these sky
people will find him, whoever they are,” she said hitching her broad
shoulders. “He sneaks out to use the bathroom, but that’s it. He won’t even
come to the kitchen to eat, but that’s fine by me, because I haven’t even
shared this with my staff. Loose lips sink ships and all that.”
Lupe and I exchanged a contemplative glance as the
woman heaved her bulky body up the three steps leading to a rickety screen
porch. With time and gravity working against her, the cut-off overalls she
wore emphasized the blue-veined rolls of thigh fat jiggling above her knees.
Swinging like pendulums, her enormous boobs drooped almost to her waist. Not a
flattering getup
rusted-out remains of an old Pontiac where someone had spray-painted the side
of it with the warning: THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY! IF I CATCH YOU HERE I WILL
SHOOT YOU. Wished I’d noticed that sooner.
The sheer relief of not having a loaded shotgun
pointed at me left my knees softer than overcooked noodles. I’d certainly had
more than my share of adrenaline for one day, I decided ruefully, leaning my
body weight against a pile of empty crates while I assessed this very
un-ministerlike woman whose girth almost exceeded her height. Trying to
picture her in the pulpit preaching to a congregation strained my imagination.
Now out of earshot, she proceeded to give Lupe a
thorough dressing down. I could tell by the pointed finger jabs in my
direction that she was discussing my fate.
A
full five minutes passed before they turned and began walking back towards me.
I pushed to my feet. The look of cautious expectancy on Lupe’s face indicated
that she had prevailed, but Sister Goldenrod was still evil-eyeing me as they
re-entered the garage.
Sister Goldenrod said, “I’m going to take Lupe’s word
that you’re going to keep your yap shut about my little visitor, is that
right?”
I mustered a placating smile. “That’s correct. I am a
reporter, but rest assured that I’m here unofficially. I don’t plan to do or
say anything that would jeopardize her situation or yours, or his for that
matter.”
She looked uncertain, but inclined her head toward the
pink house. “I hope I don’t regret this. If the Border Patrol or INS gets
wind that I’m hiding this child, my ass is grass and he will be deported
to God knows where. You got that?”
“Got it.” For a supposed woman of the cloth, she sure
had a foul mouth.
The three of us fell into step. “Has the boy been able
to tell you where he’s from or how he got here? Was he traveling with
relatives?”
Sister Goldenrod’s breath came in wheezy gasps as we
crunched along the gravel driveway. “I don’t think the little guy even knows
what country he’s from,” she replied with a sad shake of her head. “Probably
Mexico, but he might have come from someplace in Central America, El Savador,
Costa Rica, who knows? All I’ve been able to gather so far is that he and his
family lived high in the mountains and that he and his mother came here to find
his father. He also keeps babbling about bright colored lights and horses
chasing him. At least I think that’s what he’s saying.” She turned to Lupe.
“You’ll probably have better luck than me understanding him. That is, if he’ll
even talk to you.”
“Lupe told me about his weird abduction story,” I put
in. “Has he been able to furnish any more details about that night?”
She pursed her lips as if debating whether to answer
me or not, and finally said, “Not many. You know how it is with kids and
their imagination. It’s hard to tell fact from fiction, dreams from reality.
But something strange must have happened out there in the desert to make him so
traumatized. I mean, it’s taken me days to get him to come out from under the
bed. Now he insists on staying in the closet because he’s afraid these sky
people will find him, whoever they are,” she said hitching her broad
shoulders. “He sneaks out to use the bathroom, but that’s it. He won’t even
come to the kitchen to eat, but that’s fine by me, because I haven’t even
shared this with my staff. Loose lips sink ships and all that.”
Lupe and I exchanged a contemplative glance as the
woman heaved her bulky body up the three steps leading to a rickety screen
porch. With time and gravity working against her, the cut-off overalls she
wore emphasized the blue-veined rolls of thigh fat jiggling above her knees.
Swinging like pendulums, her enormous boobs drooped almost to her waist. Not a
flattering getup
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