José secretly cringed each time he turned the key and heard the familiar sound of nothingness. He tried two, then three times, knowing with each forward twist that his fingers would meet deafening silence.
“I’m sorry, María. I promise this will be the last time.” The soft hint of José's accent slipped out with his anxiousness. Every time he was stressed, his native tendency to add inflection in unusual spots glided into his speech. José had resided in many different places- Mexican states and even some U.S. states- over the years. He and his first wife had raised their children to be like “half and half leche,” he liked to joke. “They’re half Mexicanos and half Americanos.”
Although his charming dialect normally produced a smile on María, tonight it failed. She was nervous and uncomfortable. They had been traveling in this old Ford for days and seemed to be no nearer to their destination. This was the third time the rusty car had failed them. The first two times, José said it was the carburetor but this time it clearly seemed that the battery was dead.
“How can this be, José? Why does it keep stalling?” She held her belly and tried to hide the angst she felt in her heart. She was so young and so naïve but still she sensed that the baby’s time was near.
“The battery connections are very corroded, María. It just won't keep a charge. Do not worry. I will walk to the station we just passed and buy a new one. I will be back quickly, I promise.” He wasn’t sure how he would purchase a new battery. He had no cash and his credit card had been shut off long ago.
As she watched José's tall figure fade into the distance, María settled back into her seat with renewed unease. His presence always made her feel calmer. Because he was much older than she, he had a sort of fatherly presence about him. Their relationship was less about romance and far more about trust and relationship. They had been paired together by providence and while neither was entirely certain of the reason, both swore they’d stay true to their mission- to provide this newborn a safe delivery.
As she cranked the seat handle to lower it, her blue shawl caught on something. She tugged and tugged until it finally let loose but she bemoaned the threads that loosed with it. This had been her mother’s shawl and it held special meaning for María. She had been separated from her mother as a young child but she still missed her desperately. Anna had always been such a steadfast woman of faith and devotion. María derived strength just in thinking of her mother.
She gently tried to push the threads of yarn back into place when she suddenly felt the child move within her. Startled, she moved her hands immediately to her middle. Her palms felt electrified as they followed the movement from left to right and then back to left. From time to time over the past many months, this baby had made its presence known but the last few days were different. Recent twists and turns released a vibrant energy within her and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. It both electrified her and terrified her. What was happening? She curled into the reclining seat and tried to push her worry from her mind.
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José's legs were becoming tired but he could see the Citgo sign up ahead. Google Maps promised that opening hours extended until 11pm. He wiped his forehead and tried to quiet his mind. He was so much more energetic and youthful when his other children were born. They were grown and gone now and his stamina had gone with them. Where once he had felt so strong, so vibrant, he now felt only fatigue.
“Salomé would tell me to ‘Stop whining and get moving!’” he lamented aloud as he thought of his first wife’s tendency to reproach him for laziness. “And she’d be right. I need to get María to a place of safety. I don’t know why this journey feels so important. A fine time for the car to fail us.”
José felt a grin crawl onto his face when he saw the cashier’s shadow move through the store aisles as he approached. He yanked on the station door but was met with resistance.
“O qué?” he uttered aloud. The sign on the door clearly stated, “Open 8am-10pm.”
He checked his watch. It was 9:18pm.
He pulled but again the door stubbornly refused. He peered in but now saw only darkness.
At his wits end and thinking about María alone in the car, José began to shout.
”Hola?! Hello?! Anyone there?! Hola?!” No response.
He ran around the back of the building and rejoiced at the sight of the cashier lighting her cigarette.
“Hello! Hello!” José’s words somersaulted over his thoughts.
The cashier glanced at him and immediately frowned. And there goes my break.
She threw her cigarette on the ground and pressed her heel into it. Just great. I got 40 minutes left on my shift and I’m left dealin’ with another one of these. Her mind backpedaled to Shop Mart this past Saturday. Every aisle filled with intruders- dark skin, strange phrases, funny smells. The checkout line took at least 15 extra minutes just because of them. Half of them didn’t even know what they were buying or even trying to buy.
“What?!”
José inched back quickly. Her tone seemed so instantly angry.
“Lo siento, I don’t mean to bother you,” he stammered. He could see her name tag: “Deborah.” “My wife is embarazada, um, pregnant- near delivery- and our car battery just died. Could I bother you for a new battery or at least a, a jomp? We just need to get a few miles down the road to the hospital.”
“A jomp?! You mean, a jump?”
Deborah was so irritated. This guy can’t even speak English. He had no right to be bothering her. He had no right to even be here- in her store, in her country, in her way. She turned, ignoring him, and re-entered the store through the back door.
José followed her.
From the front corner of the shop, the television blared. The sound of urgency in the TV reporter’s voice caught José off-guard and he glanced at the set even though Deborah seemed unfazed. News crawl scrolled across the bottom of the screen.
Trump Slashes Refugee Cap to 18,000. Hundreds of Attorneys Leave Immigration Law... Shooting of Mexican Immigrants in El Paso... Deaths in Detention and at the Border... 1,500 more migrant children were taken from parents...
The clerk ignored the television.
“Look, it’s late. I’m closin’ up. I don’t have a battery to sell you. I can’t give you a ‘jomp’. You need to go back where you belong.” She reached over the counter and flicked off the overhead light.
She was mad that she was made to feel mad. Who does this amigo think he is anyway? Appearing out of the sudden darkness demanding a jomp? She snorted in amusement. As if he was anybody. As if he was somebody! And whoever his wife was, well, maybe she should have planned ahead. It wasn’t like she just got pregnant today- whoever the woman was, she’d had nine months to prepare. Trying to cross the border so their child could be free was like cheating.
Who do they think they are? “Refugees.” Seeking refuge from what- Mexican food? She chuckled to herself. As if her life was any easier than theirs. She'd flee her own life if she could.
She was tired. Tired, underpaid, unappreciated, undervalued. A single mom of three. And here wanders in “one of them,” thinking they deserve just as much as everyone else.
“Go. Va!” Deborah chased José out the front door like a stray dog and then turned to briskly lock the entrance behind her. She hurried toward her car.
“Por favor. Please!” José’s plea was punctuated with desperation and she felt it. But this, too, angered her. She had her own life to deal with. It wasn’t her fault that this Mexican tried to dodge laws and rules and ended up on her doorstep.
She slammed her car door shut and accelerated away from the man as if he’d perpetrated a personal harm against her.
As the car vanished down the road, José slid to the ground, his back against the wall, and buried his head in his hands. Everything felt fuzzy. He could make sense of nothing, he could hear crackling static that confused him.
He felt angry and ashamed. Angry because of his situation. Ashamed because he blamed God. He was so tired of the hate. It was everywhere- in people's voices, in their eyes, in their accusations, in their silence. The hate, the hurt.
“¿Por qué yo? Why me? I didn’t ask for this. I never wanted this. I had a family, I have a family. Why am I being burdened with this? I choose NO!”
Suddenly and from deep within José rose an energy, the same energy that interrupted his sleep so long ago. José clutched his head and rocked gently. He tried to make sense of the scrambled message channeling through the energy. It hurt to listen and yet felt overwhelmingly comforting.
“José- you are exactly where you are meant to be.”
José started to scramble to his feet but his legs didn’t cooperate and he fell back to his crouched position.
“Do not be afraid. Go back. Go back to María.”
José began to shake his head, first slowly then frantically. He didn’t want to go back, he didn’t ask for this, he didn’t want this assignment. He was tired of the hate, the hurt. The same familiar feelings of resentment crept into his being. Can he say no? No.
“Trust me.”
No.
“Trust me.”
“Trust me.”
A slight warm breeze rose up and wound itself around José. A sense of subtle affection caressed his cheek and as his hand softly brushed it away, his heart beckoned it back. This gentle game between fear and faith didn’t last long.
An immense calm settled upon José. Serenity silenced his fibrillating spirit.
Ironically, the sudden tranquility served as fuel and he felt a sudden urgency to stand, to move. He rose, wiped his hands on his jeans and checked his watch. It was 9:47pm. He turned around and started back the way he came. He didn’t know what he would say to María nor did he have any plan as to how to continue their journey but he knew he had to return to the car and quickly.
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María could feel the beads of sweat trickle in shallow rivulets down her brow and into her eyes, the salt stinging as they entered. She tried to wipe them away but both hands now clutched at her belly. Too frightened by the intense and frequent surges of pain, she remained on her side. She blinked real tears back unsuccessfully; they pooled and poured down her cheeks. She was just so scared, so alone.
The sound of approaching footsteps instilled terror in her heart. She knew that if she was found by the wrong person, there would be trouble. Alone, soon to bear a child, and clearly on the “wrong” side of the border, María would be arrested. She nestled her face deeply into her mother’s shawl so as to quiet her own breath. Or maybe, she admitted to herself, it was to avoid seeing personified hate when it arrived.
“María.”
María peered out from her shawl at the familiar voice.
“José!” she exclaimed as her dread switched places with relief. “José!”
“Si,” José stroked her head and comforted her even while he was alarmed by the sight of María. In her feverish state, her cheeks were blotched and it was evident that she was in a state of distress. But the calm inside of José had grown more intense as he journeyed back and it was as if he knew exactly how to prepare for what was coming.
He gently moved this gentle woman into the back seat of the old car. There wasn’t much time, he knew. He removed his flannel shirt and laid it under his wife. He poured some water on a discarded towelette and smoothed her furrowed brow with the dampened rag. All he could offer was his presence and he hoped that it would be enough. The rest was for María to experience and to endure.
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Laughter broke through María’s haze. Time had left her side and she was unsure of her immediate surroundings. Deep sounds of mirth pierced her senses and she opened her eyes to see José enfolding a baby in her mother’s blue shawl. A baby. Her baby!
María pushed herself up with her left arm, the other clinging to her side as she felt lingering pain. “José,” she whispered. “Mi bebé. Mi cielo.”
“Si, María. Your baby. Your heaven.” He set the newborn baby carefully in the passenger seat before turning back to help María sit up against the car door. He then lifted the infant and placed him gently into his mother’s arms. He felt an inexplicable peace and unfathomable joy.
María looked down upon the baby. Her baby. He was so… beautiful.
Suddenly, light penetrated her vision and she was blinded. A voice so powerful it shook her core said, “Hail María. Do not be afraid. Remember. Blessed is the fruit of thy womb. This is the child who will redeem the world. Let all the world rejoice this night as you have delivered humanity's greatest gift, the Gift of Love.
The voice faded from María’s consciousness and her vision slowly returned. Curled into her arms was her son, her precious baby boy. She folded herself into him and closed her eyes.
José watched as mother and son sank into slumber and he surrendered to his own sense of peace. As he slid himself into the front passenger seat, he turned and looked out the window and offered a prayer of gratitude to his God.
His eyes soon became heavy and he lowered them under the gaze of Heaven’s brightest star. He felt only peace.
Everlasting, absolute peace.
Author's Note: Our world is circular. Sharp edges have no place. The effect we have on one another is powerful so let us use that power for light, for good, for God.
Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of death. Amen.
Dios te salve, Maria. Llena eres de gracia: El Seńor es contigo. Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres.Y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre: Jesús. Santa María, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amén.