stomach from his rifle and the Salvadoran woman was back on her feet. For a second she looked like she would bolt, but the outside guard took hold of her arm and twisted it behind her back until she had no choice but to follow. Her screams echoed across the jungle until she was flung into one of several windowless white vans waiting a few meters away.
The bus driver did nothing. His job was only to drive the bus and collect the fare. If this was his regular route, he probably saw this happen every day.
It took every clenching muscle in Jaimeâs body to keep from wetting himself. In a few minutes that could be him and Ãngela too.
âKeep drawing, keep drawing,â Ãngela muttered as the gringa tourist gasped and seized hold of her partnerâs freckled arm.
Jaime stared at his sketchbook as if heâd never seen it before. Draw? How could he draw at a time like this, when heâd just seen a woman literally thrown out of the bus? But Ãngela was right. He had to pretend he had nothing to be scared of. As if he belonged. As if he were mexicano .
Hand shaking a second time within the bus ride, he began doodling next to Snoopy. Before he realized what heâd drawn, the Bat-Signal appeared at the top of the pageâthe sign that someone in Gotham City needed Batmanâs help.
Great, no hidden symbolism there. Could his sketch be more obvious? Still, he didnât erase it, just continued with the next doodle.
By the time their guard was back on the bus and at their side, Jaimeâs page not only had Snoopy and the Bat-Signal, but the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Mickey Mouse scattered around. Half the kids at school had similar doodles in their notebooks. Hopefully the guard had kids.
âAre you two together?â the guard asked. His breath reeked of coffee and too many cigarettes. Jaime glanced at him briefly before returning to shaping Yodaâs ears just right. Keep calm and blend in.
âYup,â Ãngela said with more assurance than Jaime felt. As she continued, he couldnât help but notice her accent had changed. She was putting less emphasis on thelast vowels of her words, making her tone more neutral. âAbuela needs help for a few days. Itâs getting hard for her to roll out the tortillas.â
The beauty about that lie was that it really wasnât a lie. Their grandmother was struggling with the tortillas and always welcomed any help. Jaime doubted those lie detectors they showed in movies could have picked out the deception. After all, it wasnât as if the guard had actually asked where they were going.
âYouâre not from Chiapas, are you?â
âVeracruz,â Ãngela named a different Mexican state without hesitating. But a state not exactly where the bus was heading, nor where it came from. The lie detector in Jaimeâs head flashed warnings like the lights on the guardsâ cars outside. If Ãngela realized her mistake, she didnât show it. â ¿Ha estado allÃ? Have you been there? Itâs beautiful.â
Again Jaime noticed the difference in her accent, particularly her verb choice. In Guatemala they would have said, habés estado allà . Good call, Ãngela. And thank you, Mexican TV shows.
The guard caught the verb use, and at the sound of it gave them a slight nod of approval. Just as Jaime was about to relax, the guard reached over Ãngela and poked him in the shoulder, causing the pencil to slip and streak, giving Yoda a double-ended lightsaber.
âWhat about you, boy, do you like helping your abuela make tortillas?â
âSometimes,â Jaime said with a shrug, even though his brain had gone into panic mode. He didnât know if he could imitate a Mexican accent and remember to use the verb forms they did. He stuck with what he did knowâsketching and doodling.
âWhat you got there?â The guard grabbed the notebook out of his hands and began thumbing through
The bus driver did nothing. His job was only to drive the bus and collect the fare. If this was his regular route, he probably saw this happen every day.
It took every clenching muscle in Jaimeâs body to keep from wetting himself. In a few minutes that could be him and Ãngela too.
âKeep drawing, keep drawing,â Ãngela muttered as the gringa tourist gasped and seized hold of her partnerâs freckled arm.
Jaime stared at his sketchbook as if heâd never seen it before. Draw? How could he draw at a time like this, when heâd just seen a woman literally thrown out of the bus? But Ãngela was right. He had to pretend he had nothing to be scared of. As if he belonged. As if he were mexicano .
Hand shaking a second time within the bus ride, he began doodling next to Snoopy. Before he realized what heâd drawn, the Bat-Signal appeared at the top of the pageâthe sign that someone in Gotham City needed Batmanâs help.
Great, no hidden symbolism there. Could his sketch be more obvious? Still, he didnât erase it, just continued with the next doodle.
By the time their guard was back on the bus and at their side, Jaimeâs page not only had Snoopy and the Bat-Signal, but the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Mickey Mouse scattered around. Half the kids at school had similar doodles in their notebooks. Hopefully the guard had kids.
âAre you two together?â the guard asked. His breath reeked of coffee and too many cigarettes. Jaime glanced at him briefly before returning to shaping Yodaâs ears just right. Keep calm and blend in.
âYup,â Ãngela said with more assurance than Jaime felt. As she continued, he couldnât help but notice her accent had changed. She was putting less emphasis on thelast vowels of her words, making her tone more neutral. âAbuela needs help for a few days. Itâs getting hard for her to roll out the tortillas.â
The beauty about that lie was that it really wasnât a lie. Their grandmother was struggling with the tortillas and always welcomed any help. Jaime doubted those lie detectors they showed in movies could have picked out the deception. After all, it wasnât as if the guard had actually asked where they were going.
âYouâre not from Chiapas, are you?â
âVeracruz,â Ãngela named a different Mexican state without hesitating. But a state not exactly where the bus was heading, nor where it came from. The lie detector in Jaimeâs head flashed warnings like the lights on the guardsâ cars outside. If Ãngela realized her mistake, she didnât show it. â ¿Ha estado allÃ? Have you been there? Itâs beautiful.â
Again Jaime noticed the difference in her accent, particularly her verb choice. In Guatemala they would have said, habés estado allà . Good call, Ãngela. And thank you, Mexican TV shows.
The guard caught the verb use, and at the sound of it gave them a slight nod of approval. Just as Jaime was about to relax, the guard reached over Ãngela and poked him in the shoulder, causing the pencil to slip and streak, giving Yoda a double-ended lightsaber.
âWhat about you, boy, do you like helping your abuela make tortillas?â
âSometimes,â Jaime said with a shrug, even though his brain had gone into panic mode. He didnât know if he could imitate a Mexican accent and remember to use the verb forms they did. He stuck with what he did knowâsketching and doodling.
âWhat you got there?â The guard grabbed the notebook out of his hands and began thumbing through
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