​Welcome to my world...

Here's an excerpt from BORDER DESPERATION from the immigrant's point of view....A little hard to read but this happens ALL THE TIME on the border...

​“Look, it is some pollos!”  He comments, referring to them as chickens, then saunters over to the edge of the group.  All of them are now wide awake.  “Ah, what have we here,” his voice is curious but pleased.  “Whose daughter are you, mija?”  He asks, using the possessive tense as he would for his own daughter.  The girl holds tightly onto her boyfriend or brother or whatever he is.  The fear of the group stains the air.

“Leave us be, jefe.”  One man states.  “We have nothing that you would want.  We are just poor people hoping to make a better life for ourselves.”  The man’s voice is shaky, but it’s obvious he is the leader of the small group. 

“Oh, now how could I know that?  How could I know you are not trying to hide money or jewels or some other valuables you are unwilling to share with me?”  His voice is caustic, as his respect for these people is nonexistent. 

“Jefe, I have a few dollars and we will give you all we have and send you some more once we find work.”  The young man’s voice has lost all of its confidence as he pleads.

“I will take your money.  Certainly.  But I would not expect you to send me money.  That is offensive to me.  But, at that, give me one thousand pesos now and I will leave you be.  That is the fee to cross here at this port to a better life.

“Oh jefe, we may have two hundred pesos but not one thousand.”  The pleading voice is no longer masculine.

“Fine, give me two hundred pesos now and,” he starts to laugh loudly.  “And give me the young woman.”

Another voice, angry, outraged at the idea, comes from the young man she holds so tightly.  “She is my wife.  She is pregnant with our child.”

“She does not look pregnant, boboso!”  Don Sebastian replies, using the word for a vile, worthless thing in his address to the young man.  “And how do I know you are truly married to her?  No, my young idiot, I will only borrow her.  You can have her back when I am done.”

“Senor, I cannot let you do that.  She is my wife, the mother of my unborn child.  To do such a thing—I would rather be dead.”

The laughter of Don Sebastian fills the air, soon joined by the rancid laughter of the three men with him.  “So is your wish.  She is now a widow.”  The explosion of the .45 booms, echoing across the river but not concealing the plop of the bullet as it strikes the young husband in the head, sending his blood and brains all over his screaming widow.  

“Get the girl.  Leave the money.  It is not worth our time.” 

The incessant, animalistic screaming of the young woman splits the night, dancing with the laughter of the men who will rape her.  Francisco stops his cousin, Juan Geronimo, from interfering, grabbing him by the shoulders.  “We cannot do anything. They will surely kill you if you try to interfere.  Such is the life at the border.”

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