The Innocence of Children
‘Her slicked back hair and shoulders glistened in the sunlight.’ — from The Hitchhiker, by Luis Reyna, from Sudden Fiction Latina
As they waited on the bridge, Maria Elena closed her eyes and pictured the moment again: bathing Leni, hair slicked back and shoulders glistening in the morning sunlight, with the day’s fresh camp-water. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks dimpled, and she was happy, truly happy, as happy as Maria Elena had seen her in more than a year.
“Mama,” she’d said in her best English, standing tall, “today I become American!”
Ah, the innocence of children. Maria Elena had smiled and tried to hide her doubt. The rumours had started a few days ago: that La Inmagracion had begun to take the children away. But no one believed them — or wanted to, anyway.
No, we were not criminals — we would knock on the front door, ask for safe haven, and offer the strength of our backs and the sweat from our brows in return. America would help. And then they could sleep again, no longer caught between the rebels, the para-military, and the government, wondering which soldiers might come in the night and finally just kill them all, instead of tormenting, stealing, and raping; no longer fretting night after night as they fled north, hoping the banditos would leave them in peace.
The Coyotes had tried to convince Maria Elena and the rest of the group that their way was the guaranteed way, the safe way to cross the border. But it was not an honorable way and thieves could not be trusted. No, she and the others were honorable people, and honorable people did the right thing, even if it wasn’t the proper way.
And the Americans, with their big hearts and the statue in the New York Harbor — they would understand and do the right thing as well.
But as the sun climbed further into the sky, baking the bridge as the line inched forward, Maria Elena took Leni’s hand, looked into her eyes and smiled, focusing again on the memory of her slicked back hair and glistening shoulders. She was intent on burning it, detail by detail, into her memory, as protection against the growing fear and doubt — and in case she was forced to make a mother’s choice and set Leni free in her America.
