Alejandra tries to ignore
the blisters on her heel.
She keeps her eyes
on Leticia's hooded figure
a dozen steps ahead.
Listens to the soft crunch
her duct taped shoes
make on sand in the arroyo.
She whispers a string of numbers,
one with each step, each breath.
The cell phone contact she will call tomorrow
or the next day or the next one after that.
For the promised job in a hotel.
Making beds and cleaning bathrooms.
The sky is brightening and already
the cool of the night is changing
into the furnace of the coming day.
Tomas, the coyote who has lead them
across the desert, stops under a clump
of tamarisk trees overhanging the bank
of the arroyo. Raises his hand
and gestures for them to hurry.
Points at the scanty shade
where they will wait until night
to resume their trek.
Leticia sits down and slumps
against the trunk of a tamarisk
without bothering to check
for any scorpions that might
still be hunting in the leaf litter
under the tree.
Opens her eyes when Alejandra
flops down beside her
and asks, Are you thirsty, mija?
take a little sip of my water,
but save the rest for later
when the sun will be more cruel.
When we get to our new home,
I will buy you so much soda
you can take a bath in it.
Leticia stares at Alejandra,
sets down the dirty purple
stuffed elephant that she has
clung to for a thousand miles
of buses and vans, and now
this long march through the desert.
She gulps some of the cloudy water
in the two liter plastic Pepsi bottle
that her mother hands her and sighs.
When will we get there, Mama, when?
Soon, mija, soon. Tomas says
one more night of walking
and then we will ride in a car.
Can you sleep? Shall I sing for you
Your favorite corrido?
I must sing it very quietly, ok?
Había una vez una princesa
que vivía en un gran castillo....
