29
Most of the passengers were still asleep when the bus pulled over. The driver pressed a button on the console and muted the video.
“You need to wake up,” Socorro said.
“Are we there?” Don Celestino sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
“Look for yourself,” she answered, turning to rouse his brother.
Three soldiers were boarding the bus. One stayed up front; the other two walked down the aisle to check everyone’s papers. They wore flak jackets over their dark-green fatigues, and the one at the front carried a submachine gun strapped to his shoulder. Don Celestino pulled his seat back to the upright position when the first soldier walked by him.
“I told you something like this would happen,” Socorro whispered. “But what do I know?”
“Nothing’s going to happen.” He caressed her hand.
“You say it like I have something to worry about,” she said. “You and your brother are the ones.”
The younger of two soldiers was now at the rear of the bus, making his way toward the middle. His partner had stopped in front of the long-haired musician and nudged him until he sat up.
“I bought two tickets,” the passenger stammered in his broken Spanish. “Two tickets,” he repeated, pointing to the guitar case in the next seat and then holding up two fingers.
The soldier shook his head. “Identification,” he said. “Visa.”
He stood there, waiting for the man to produce the documents. After searching through his front and back pockets, the traveler located the papers in the side pocket of his cargo pants.
“Citizens?”
Don Celestino and Don Fidencio turned to see the other soldier standing in the aisle between their seats. Socorro nodded first, and then the two men.
“Identification?”
She handed him the ID card she had been holding since the bus pulled over. The soldier glanced at it, then handed it back. He held his position as Don Celestino searched his pockets for the missing card. Don Fidencio was rummaging through the plastic bag with the medicines.
“We just got married,” Socorro announced, as she placed her hand on Celestino’s leg.
“Married?” The soldier took a closer look at the groom.
Don Celestino looked up at her for a second and then turned to smile at the soldier. “Yes, but with all the celebrating I think I forgot my wallet.”
“And when was it that you said you were married?” he asked Socorro.
“A few hours ago, just this morning,” she answered.
“A morning wedding then?”
“Yes, so everyone could still get to their work.”
The soldier tilted back his helmet and regarded the one ring that she owned and that only a minute earlier she had switched over from the other hand. The soldier looked over the seat at the old man traveling with them, then turned when his partner walked up.
“These two say they were married today.”
“Married?” The second soldier leaned back to look at the newlyweds.
“That’s what she said, ‘married,’ ” the first soldier confirmed. Then, turning back to the bride, he asked, “Where was this that you say you got married to this man?”
“Matamoros. It was a simple ceremony. Only my father and aunt. My brothers couldn’t come.”
“I thought you said there was a lot of celebrating,” the soldier said, then checked to see if the old man behind them had anything to add.
“For the family, yes,” Don Celestino clarified. “They were all very excited to see us get married.”
“So this was a few hours ago that you say the two of you were married?” the second one asked, also taking time to glance over the seat at the other passenger.
“Already I know what you must be thinking,” Don Fidencio interrupted, leaning forward. “Now imagine my reaction when I heard my only daughter wanted to marry a man almost the same age as her father.”
“Nobody’s talking to you,” Don Celestino snapped into the tiny space between the seats.
“Listen to how my new son-in-law speaks to me. Listen, listen to him and tell me what I can expect later on, if today is only the first day.”
“This man is your father?” the first soldier asked.
She looked over the seat back at Don Fidencio, then smiled and nodded.
“Only because she had no place to leave me, for that reason she brought me on this trip. ‘To celebrate, to celebrate, we have to celebrate!’ Who knows where they’ll put me to sleep tonight and what will go on between them — in what ways they will be celebrating! Can you imagine? I thank God that He took her mother and she’s not here to experience such things.”
The second soldier looked at the first one and motioned to him that they had wasted enough time. Another bus was pulling into the checkpoint.
Don Celestino waited until they were off the bus before he turned around in his seat. “No more from you.”
“You should be thanking me,” his brother said.
“For insulting and embarrassing me?”
“He saved us,” Socorro said. “What does it matter what he said?”
They quieted after this, but the incident kept stirring inside her, especially Don Celestino’s reaction when she first told the soldier about the wedding. It was the same face he had made that time she’d added too much salt to the rice.