The officer entered the room with the Border Guard and touched José’s shoulder. José jumped and looked up, afraid. The officer said something in English, but José couldn’t understand. He shook his head. The Border Guard translated, “How old are you?”
“Fourteen.” José answered.
“Where are you from?”
José hesitated, and then lied. “Juárez.”
“Your parents live there?” The Border Guard asked.
“My parents are dead.” José answered.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“One brother. He is in El Paso.”
The officer took José’s arm and stood him up. “We’re going to get these drugs off of you now.” The Border Guard translated.
They pulled the tape off too quickly and made him bleed. José tried not to yell, but it hurt. “Where did you get these?” They asked.
“In Juárez.” José answered.
They pulled him along through the main room with everyone staring at his handcuffs and spots of blood on his shirt. Behind the building, they put him into a police car and drove him to the jail. There were more questions and more searching. Weighing the drugs, making sure that he didn’t have any more. José had not eaten all day and he felt like he would faint. Finally, the guards noticed that he looked sick and gave him some crackers to eat. All day he sat in a cell in the jail waiting for something to happen. Finally, late that evening, a guard took him out, handcuffed him and put him back in the car. “We’re bringing you back to Juárez. We aren’t going to press charges because you are still a child. You’re papers are canceled, and you will not be allowed into America for two years.” He turned and looked José in the eye. “We do NOT want to see your face at that border crossing station again. Do you understand?”
José nodded silently. The guard pulled into the parking lot of a large store. “Welcome to Juárez.” He unlocked José’s handcuffs. “Get out.”
José got out, and the car pulled away. He was back in Juárez and Roberto was somewhere in El Paso. Now what?
No comments:
Post a Comment