“No. I am going to make a sign.”
She spread out the map on the sand and tore the fruit in half. Its juice was a rich purple color, like natural ink. She plucked a leaf from the tree above them. Holding the fruit carefully with the leaf, she wrote four words on the map in big letters: SARAI HUGO
BRINQUEN AQUí
Jump here.
With the remaining juice, she painted the outline of a butterfly. The message was easy to read, friendly, and hinted at her connection to Armando.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“I think you’re a fucking genius.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
She flushed with pleasure. “What happens after they jump?”
“We find a house with a phone, and I make some calls.”
He stretched out on his back in the cool sand, and she curled up beside him. He offered his arm as a pillow. Although his undershirt was damp with sweat, she didn’t seem to mind.
“Do you want children?” she asked.
“What?”
“Children. Do you want them?”
He’d considered and dismissed the idea a long time ago. Some kids who’d been raised in dysfunctional families couldn’t wait for the chance to have their own children and raise them right. Ian wasn’t one of them. “I’m not the parent type.”
“Why not?”
“I wouldn’t know what to do.”
“You know what not to do, yes?”
He’d had an entire childhood of what not to do. “I wanted a family when I was a kid. I wanted Adam’s family.”
“What were they like?”
“They were happy. They loved each other. Whenever I was hungry, they fed me. I stayed with them an entire month when I was fifteen.”
“Why?”
“My mom got arrested for drug possession, and a social worker came to visit. She said I needed adult supervision, so Adam’s parents agreed to take me in while my mom was locked up. But they didn’t want to adopt me or anything.”
“Why not?”
“Lots of reasons.” He’d heard Adam’s parents arguing about it one night. “They didn’t have the room. His little sister had a crush on me.”
Her lips twitched at this. “How old was she?”
“Thirteen. And incredibly annoying.”
She laughed, squeezing his arm.
As a teenager, he’d resented Raquel for her girlish infatuation. It had caused problems between Ian and Adam’s father, who hadn’t trusted Ian not to touch her. Ian had avoided Raquel like the plague—until she’d grown up. In college, they’d had a short, meaningless fling, but he didn’t tell Maria that.
“My mother had me when she was eighteen,” Maria said.
“No wonder she looks so young.”
“I want to have kids later, when I’m thirty and already old.”
He’d be thirty in two years, and he didn’t feel old. Maybe he’d change his mind about being a parent. Some of his friends had done that after falling in love and getting married. Raquel was a mother now. Pregnancy looked good on her, actually. He pictured Maria with a rounded belly and felt a strange twist in his chest. Half panic, half longing.
The sound of an approaching train had him scrambling to his feet. She grabbed the sign she’d made and climbed out of the gulch.
It was go time.
Chapter 22
Sarai held Hugo’s hand and watched the sun come up over the bay.
The train left Empalme and headed away from the coast, into the Sonoran Desert. By noon it was too hot to wear her sweatshirt. She removed it and put the fabric under her bottom, which didn’t have enough padding to protect her from the hard metal grate. Neither did his, so she shared half. He gave her his wolf-pup smile, seeming content just to sit next to her.
They’d been traveling together for two days. He hadn’t left her side since they’d met in Mazatlán. Although she definitely felt safer with him, her boy-disguise had been compromised. Boys didn’t kiss other boys on the riverbank, or hold hands in public. They didn’t do it without attracting negative attention, anyway.
Now that the other passengers knew she was a girl, there were more eyes on her. There were more eyes on Hugo too, assessing his strength. Women were rare on La Bestia. Young women traveled with a male relative, or not at all. She worried that someone would challenge Hugo for her company. Multiple someones might decide to throw him off the train.
Her phone chirped in her pocket, indicating that it was done charging. She’d bought a wireless charger at the last stop. She was reluctant to check her messages in front of the other passengers, however. No one else had a phone. They were a more precious commodity than women. Using it openly would be like waving a red flag in a bullpen.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” she said.
“I’ll come with you.”
They moved across the surface of the railcar with caution, staying low. Then she climbed down the ladder with him. There was another metal grate at the bottom where she could squat to pee without exposing herself to the other passengers.
Hugo stood with his back to her, not looking. It was embarrassing and dangerous. She held the ladder with one hand and watched the railroad ties rush by underneath the grate. After she finished, he took his turn. He unbuttoned his pants and directed his stream toward the tracks, where it hissed on impact.
Boys.
She checked her phone and found a new voicemail from an unknown number. She listened to it, her heart racing.
“M’ija. It’s your papá. I just wanted to say that I got your last message. I love you too. But we should talk in person, not on Facebook. Call me back at this number.”
I love you too? She hadn’t said that on Facebook or anywhere else. With a frown, she attempted to dial the number, but she didn’t have good enough reception. She might have better luck on the surface of the railcar, or in another area.
Curious, she checked Facebook. There was a series of messages from him:
I was unconscious for a few days, but I’m okay now…
Her vision blurred with tears as she continued reading.
I asked Tía M to deliver the letter, not to follow you. Is she alone? If you see a man with her, describe him to me.