To say their fear is baseless wouldn’t be fair—I did fall out of the sky onto the broken-down car they were playing in. However, I wasn’t in Chihuahua to hurt anyone; I’m just looking for some answers.
I could tell you the square root of pi, list off all the elements in the periodic table, show you how to set a bone so it will heal properly... but anyone with a smartphone could probably do most of that was well. The answers I’m after are different. I saw these coordinates flashing in the ceiling when I woke levitating in bed two months ago. It was a rude, disorienting, wake up call that the world was not what it seemed. Now, the answers I’ve spent my life imparting to others seem like a thin veil over something much more true.
So here I am in Chihuahua, staring at a 16-year-old with a hand gun. Looking for something true. Definitely concussed, and I probably have some internal bleeding from the crash-landing; I still haven’t got the hang of flying.
"Levanta las manos. No te muevas o te chinga mataré."
"Chico, ve a revisar sus bolsillos."
A skinny, wiry kid, who couldn’t have been older than eleven, timidly approached her.
"De dónde vienes, señora?"
She felt a small hand pat each of her pockets, before taking out her wallet and keys.
"Dónde está tú coche?"
Happy with the jingling keys and small leather wallet, Chico backed away, raising up the objects to show the kid with the gun what he found.
"¡Tú coche! Contéstame o te volaré la cabeza."
"No tengo un coche. Lo siento... por favor, no estoy aquí para lastimarte."
She struggled to come up with an excuse.
"Fue un accidente de ala delta. Estaba deslizándome y me caí. No tengo in coche."
Another young boy came running up behind the boy with gun. Out of breath, he shouted at the older boy from just close enough to be heard.
"Rauuúl! Mama te necesita!"
Raúl didn’t turn around.
"Rauuúl! Ahora!"
Raúl cursed, twisted around and shouted back,
"Okay! Ya voy."
Turning back to Rachel, he paused for a moment and said.
"Si nos sigues, te mataré. Muerto."
He took a few steps backwards, then tucked the gun in the back of his pants, turned around and started walking towards a crowd of buildings in the shadow of the warehouses situated on the hill. The youngsters walking just ahead of him. He looked smaller walking away; Maybe only 14, maybe younger.
Rachel didn’t know what was the correct answer. Should she just get out of here? Try to report the theft to the police?
"To hell with it." She thought, "He doesn’t look that dangerous. Might as well see what's here, that is what I came for."
She waited until the boys rounded the first building before following them towards the village. The hot sun was making her sweat. She gently felt for the passport in the small of her back as she removed her jacket.
"At least that’s safe," she thought.
The first two buildings Rachel passed looked vacant. Their doors hung open showing gaping dark interiors under rusted tin roofs. She walked up to an older woman sitting on the porch of a third building, sorting something into bowls. The woman stared through her like she was a mirage.
"Busco Raúl. ¿Sabes dónde encontrarlo?" She asked, nervous that her Spanish might not translate well into the local dialect.
The old woman held a hand up to her left ear. Rachel took a few steps forward and decided to try a different approach.
"¿Raúl?" She shouted.
The old woman pointed at a building a few doors down.
“Gracias.”
The old woman nodded, entirely uninterested in the interaction.
Rachel walked to the building indicated, getting more and more nervous with each step. The door was worn, and had no handle. She heard a female voice scolding someone, but couldn’t make out the words. Rachel knocked. The voice went quiet.
"¿Hola? ¿Puedo ayudarte?" Asked the woman who had finally pushed the door open. She looked tired.
"Hola, soy Rachel. Busco Raúl..." She paused, not knowing how to put it. "Él tiene algo mio."
The woman turned her head toward the inside of the house and said something Rachel didn’t catch.
Something something “mujer loca” was the reply from inside. The woman sighed and asked Rachel to come in. Temporarily blind from the hellish sun, Rachel stepped inside into total darkness as the woman held the door open for her.
As her eyes adjusted, she quickly scanned the house. There was a table and some mismatched chairs in front of her. Against one wall was a smaller table with a bucket next to it. A small curtain hung over a door way leading to what she assumed was the bedroom.
"This is about as rustic as it gets." She thought.
Taking her cue from the woman, they both sat at the table.
"Me llamo Maria." the woman said, “Lo siento por esto.”
Maria called for Raúl, who came sulking through the curtain in the back. Two other heads quickly poked out from behind the curtain before realizing they were being watched and disappearing. Raúl took a moment to glare at Rachel before taking his seat at the table and staring down.
“Raúl, esta señora dice que tienes algo de ella.” Maria prompted.
Raúl pulled the wallet and keys out of his pocket and put them on the table, a motion that coincided with Maria slapping him on the back of the head.
"No crié a un ladrón." Maria's voice was full of anger. "Disculpate con ella."
"Lo siento." Raúl uttered, nearly too quiet to be heard.
"Y la arma?" Maria asked. Raúl looked up at Rachel, alarmed.
"Qué arma?"
"El que solías robarle."
Raúl looked back at Maria, then at Rachel. He stood up and walked through into the back room, the curtain swishing as he passed through. A moment later he was back with the gun, laying it in front of Maria. Maria slapped him on the back of the head again, a bit harder this time.
"Sin balatas," Raúl mumbled.
"Sin sentido," Maria mocked. She returned her attention to Rachel. "Lo siento, normalmente es un buen chico, pero se le ocurren estas ideas."
Raúl just glared at the table like he was trying to set it on fire with his mind.
"Lo entiendo. Creo que sólo los asusté un poco." Rachel replied. She felt something brush up against her leg softly. She looked down to see a small gray cat rubbing itself against her suede boots, purring.
"No te preocupes por Abuela, ella es inofensiva," Maria said, gesturing at the cat.
"Abuela?" Rachel asked, a little confused.
"La gata. Ella apareció justo cuando mi madre murió, y después de un tiempo los niños comenzaron a pensar que su abuela la había enviado a vigilarnos. Mi madre siempre nos estaba protegiendo. Ella mantuvo a la familia unida."
Rachel reached down to scratch Abuela's ears. The cat promptly jumped into her lap, laid down, and started purring loudly.
"¿Tu coche está cerca? ¿Necesitas ayuda con eso?" Maria asked. "No puedo hacer mucho, pero nuestro vecino Gerardo solía ser mecánico de tractores".
"En realidad tuve un accidente de ala delta," Rachel said, putting her arms out like a bird to get the point across. "No tengo un coche aquí."
Maria paused for a long time. Taking time to look Rachel up and down.
"Bueno, perdiste el autobús. Tendrás que quedarte aquí esta noche."
Rachel was about to refuse, but something stopped her. She was hesitant to try flying after what happened last time. The several dirty vehicles she had seen parked near various houses told her she should could probably pay someone to drive her into town. But there was something in Maria's assertiveness, something that told her to stay.
Rachel looked once more around the room, now trying to imagine spending the night. The two heads again disappeared behind the curtain, just as she noticed them. This time giggling could be heard.
“Raúl, ve a cortar madera. No quiero que pares hasta que la pila esté llena.” Maria stated. “Es, Migiven aquí y conoce a nuestro invitado."
First a young boy, then a young girl just smaller than him, appeared in the curtained doorway. Maria got up and started mixing something in a bowl.
Rachel felt awkward.
“¿Hola, como te llaman?”
The kids just giggled.
"Eso es Miguel," said Maria, pointing to the young boy, "y Ella see llama Maria Esmeralda, pero let llamamos Es."
Es moved to hide behind her brother.
"Vayan y ayude Raúl con la madera," Maria shooed them impatiently.
"Tienes una familia encantadora."
"Gracias. Son el amor de mi vida, y a veces no los soporto." Maria turned back to the dough she was kneading.
Rachel felt a sudden vibration in her breast pocket. She carefully unzipped her jacket and pulled out her phone. There was a text from her Dad:
"Hope you’re having a great time in Mexico! We’re having a picnic here." There was a picture attached, but it wouldn’t download; there was hardly any signal.
Rachel switched to her offline maps, where there was a pin with the GPS coordinates she had seen. It looked to be less than half a mile away. She heard the sizzling of a freshly rolled tortilla in a pan, its delicious smell filling up the room.
"How long has it been since I ate?" She thought, trying to remember. "Breakfast before getting on the plane? Was that yesterday, or the day before?"
"¿Eres de E-mer-i-ca?” asked small voice next to the table, revealing that Es was already bored with helping the boys, and had come back into the house.
"Miguel dice que eres de California," Es added before Rachel had a chance to respond.
“No, soy del estado arrival de California.” Rachel said.
"Oh," Es nodded knowingly. "New York."
Rachel smiled, "No, soy de un otro estado." She zoomed out until the whole of the US and Mexico became visible on her app.
"Vamos a ver."
Es craned her head to see the phone in Rachel's hand.
"Aquí estamos, en el punto azúl. Todo este lugar es México, y todo este lugar es Estados Unidos," Rachel started. "Vengo de Oregon, aquí," she pointed at Oregon on the map.
Es was entranced, "¿y dónde está Raúl?" She asked finally.
Rachel zoomed in until you could see the outline of the warehouses. Though not much else, her immediate area was pretty sparse.
"Allí mismo." She pointed near the blue dot, guessing.
Es laughed.
The geography lesson continued, with Miguel eventually joining in, until Maria told them to set the table. Rachel tried to help place the forks, but as Es loved to tell her, she was doing it wrong and her efforts had to be corrected.
Dinner was followed by a neighborhood wide game of kick-the-can. Rachel, being somewhat conspicuous, and not knowing where to hide, spent most of her time in jail waiting for her teammates to bail her out. She found out there were only five other kids in the neighborhood, all of them under the age of 14 by the look of it. Raúl refused to play, wandering in and out for a while before settling on sitting near the jail, watching Rachel, and glaring at her whenever she glanced in his direction.
After a while, the novelty of having an adult gringo playing with them wore off and everyone went back to their houses. You could hear the hum of generators, and car engines making light for evening activities. The sound drifted in to the early summer evening.
Light from an unknown source spilled out of Maria's house. They all entered together. A car battery hooked up to light bulb lit the main room. Maria told them to wash their faces and get ready for bed.
Rachel followed the other children, splashing water on their faces from a bowl, and using a towel to rub the dirt off their faces. Sitting down at the table Maria open the Bible and began to read from Psalms.
After Bible reading, the children each kissed Maria and went into the back room, with the exception of Raúl who looked like he had just decided he was too old to be embarrassed in such a way. Rachel noticed a mat on the floor next to the oven, and a blanket beside it.
"Espero que esté bien," María started. "Sé que no es a lo que estás acostumbrado."
"Es genial. Gracias por dejarme quedarme aquí, realmente me has salvado."
Maria just smiled in response.
"Creo que podría salir a caminar, si eso está bien."
"Por supuesto. Solo mantente alejado de la fábrica. No es seguro allí," Maria replied.
Rachel grabbed her jacket from the chair, put it on, pulled her phone out, and walked out into the falling night. Abeula ran up to her as she left the house, mewing in case her presence was not noticed. Rachel paused to scratch her head and pick her up. Abeula quickly took charge by climbing up and perching on to her shoulder, leather jacket be damned. After checking that Abeula was content, Rachel carefully turned until the arrow in her maps app pointed in the right direction, and slowly walked towards the marker.
The stars were shining bright as Rachel reached the top of a small mound of dirt that seemed to be the center of the GPS coordinates, give or take a few yards. Abeula hadn’t moved the entire walk, perched as some unasked-for lookout on Rachel's shoulder, her green eyes flashing in the darkness.
This was it. This is what she had come here for: A few piles of dirt, near a dirty town, in the shadow of some sketchy warehouses.
Rachel looked up at the stars, her mind filled with questions. She had more now than she started this journey with, ten times as many if you count Es and Miguel's questions. But maybe, just for her, just for now, questions were better than answers.