Finals week for the first semester had felt like it would never end. Jesse’s focus and drive to complete his projects and prepare for his exams had not been this bad since before he started his training under Yusef. He trudged through it, distracted by the onslaught of taunting and meme-making that had become his life in the wake of his poem being posted online.
I finally got my wish to be noticed by Maria, Jesse thought.
On top of that, the Science Fair was finally right around the corner, after the second semester started, in mid-January. The typical energy drain of mentally checking out just before winter break was typically washed away when everyone came back after the recess. But that wasn’t the case this year. Students were still on edge from the Congressional vote on Tilson’s SENTRII Act. Even the teachers weren’t completely back to normal, especially considering the new power, responsibility, and tension that all came with their possible new roles as enforcers of federal immigration policy.
Attendance during finals week, which was the week right after the Tilson Plan had been passed in the Lower House and announced, hadn’t dropped dramatically. But there were definitely noticeable empty seats in his classes. One of his group members in Math had just disappeared after December tenth, or “The Tenth” as people were starting to refer to it.
Lita started putting more of the shopping and parenting responsibilities on Jesse now that she was at risk of being detained under the new policy. She also mixed up her work schedule with a few other house cleaners, coordinating with them to go to different houses on random days every week. This was a precaution to prevent capture in case anyone was watching or tracking her.
Christmas was quiet this year. Dulled and stale, there were few parties and gatherings especially since ICE agents made a lot of arrest raids on entire families as they met together for the holidays. Jesse was jolted by the various videos shared over social media of families having dinner or otherwise enjoying themselves and then being suddenly invaded inside their own homes. Terror-stricken women and children screamed amid loud yelling and commands from men, then camera views swung violently and were cut off abruptly.
The added responsibilities and anxiety that the Tilson Plan put on Jesse were both draining and motivating. The Senate’s return from winter recess was fast approaching along with the inevitable passing of the SENTRII Act into law once the President signed it. Some days were fatiguing while others spurred his anger to dedicate himself to learning so he could be readily equipped as a force for change, to undo all of the damage that was about to be, and had been, dealt to his people and the country he thought he knew.
Yusef had anticipated this lull, of course, and was ready to counteract it right on The Tenth. Really, the only reason Jesse made it through that last month was Yusef’s discipline. In retrospect, Jesse felt ashamed of his inability to meet the demands of the circumstances laid in front of him. After actually studying history, he had grown to admire the game-changers who willed themselves beyond their boundaries, took advantage of the uncertainty of their times, and made legitimate reforms and changes: Siddhartha, Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Ashoka, Napoleon, Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr. He especially admired Siddhartha and the last two, since their influence was so great they didn’t require taking power for themselves to bring about the changes they sought.
Jesse didn’t see himself as one of them, but their impact certainly brought him some hope that he could at least achieve some kind of change that would impact people around him, if not his country or the world. One of the few voices that spoke out against the SENTRII Act had been Junius Levin, a maverick senator from the east coast who planned to run against the President in next year’s election. Jesse thought since he couldn’t vote for him yet, maybe he could help some other way.
Winter break was a welcome escape from the taunting Jesse was receiving at school and online. Lita was stressed from her constantly changing work schedule due to the holidays and the precautions she was beginning to take to avoid being tracked by ICE or Los Ojos. Jesse found himself stuck at home babysitting so Lita could pick up odd jobs as other households needed cleaning for holiday parties. He used the time as best as he could to workout, read, work on his research project, and occasionally beat up Fredo and Marcy to remind them who was boss.
Christmas was good, for once. The Arcos family left on Christmas Eve to open gifts and party with their extended family and Lita was home, which gave Jesse some alone time to be productive. That night Jesse and his siblings opened their gifts.
Jesse had managed to sell another one of his video games and a pair of sneakers to finance his holiday shopping. He bought Fredo a pair of youth boxing gloves and when he opened them Jesse promised to teach him how to fight properly. For Marcy he found a mini-tripod for her phone, which was an old, cracked hand-me-down and wasn’t activated but she still used it for social media on a Wi-Fi connection. When Lita opened her gift, she stared at the opened small box and she wiped away a tear as she said “Gracias, Jesús. Gracias.” She lifted the modest and delicate-looking metallic chain necklace out of the box and put it on right away. Lita looked down to center the pendant while centering the clip of the necklace on the back of her neck.
“Which one is that?” Marcy asked.
“San Miguel, nieta,” Lita replied somberly. “El nos protege.”
“Protects us from what?”
“Fucking ICE,” Jesse blurted. “And other pendejos.”
“Jesús!” Lita scolded. She hesitated. “Pero, es la verdad,” she conceded with a shrug.
The rest of the break wasn’t so smooth. Jesse still couldn’t completely get away from the social fallout before break. He received a message from @raym._.nd who forwarded a screenshot of Jesse’s poem and threatened to kill him if he even tried talking to Maria again. As if that wasn’t enough, Jesse saw another post of his screenshot poem (with a GIF of a sad clown crying on it) and Moises was tagged on it. A comment was added: “Who tha real clown, tho?”
These were going to lead to an inevitable problem, Jesse realized, because Jesse was now in Honors English this semester -- with Maria. He was excited when Yusef told him he’d made the switch. A fluttering sensation took over his belly. But then he quickly became anxious when he thought about what the reality of the situation would actually be. It would look self-serving and disingenuous to others if he, of all people, were to suddenly join an Honors class that Maria was in. Everyone he had ever met always doubted his intellectual abilities; now, they would accuse him of creeping on Maria.
Jesse missed Maria over the break and was worried that without a proper opportunity to explain how genuine his feelings were, she would continue to assume the worst about him, which would cement her misunderstanding over the break. He feared coming back to a hopeless situation with her. He had constantly gone back and forth in his mind about whether he should try to contact her over the break. The unknowing and assuming was excruciating.
So during the first week back at school in early January, Jesse dug into his science fair research both as a distraction and as insurance to impress Maria rather than annoy her. He was still delving deep into it through the first weekend of the second semester, while also doing his best to keep a low profile and play it cool around Maria. Yusef had sent a few news articles his way to help him with his research, and they were proving useful.
One article in particular struck Jesse’s attention. It was from the New York Times but the news report was right out of his native Citrus County, California. A local judge had earlier in the year ordered a man and his family -- a four-year-old daughter, six-year-old son, and his wife -- arrested and sent to one of the many immigrant detention camps that had sprung up in recent years. Judge Thompson had issued the decree very early in the hearing, as soon as he had a chance to clarify the defendant’s home address. The judge pressed him on how long he lived there, where he was before, and finally, where he was born. As soon as the man said Guatemala, the judge asked for citizenship and residency status. When the defendant responded honestly by saying he had none, the judge slammed his gavel and ordered him and his entire family to be immediately detained and sent to the camps -- without even inquiring about the status of the children and wife.
When civil rights lawyers appealed the court case weeks later, it was already out of the hands of Thompson and the federal courts. ICE responded weeks after that by saying that the family was in one of their camps, but their newly issued identification numbers had been “lost in transit” while en route to one of the detention camps in ICE’s vast network across the country.
Of course, Jesse wanted to find them. But he thought about what Yusef had told him before, about trying to see beyond just immediate justice, especially on the smaller scale. He became more curious about who this judge was, how many other severe rulings he had given out, and what had made this man so cruel to begin with.
9:19 PM Sunday, January 12
hey. you ready to go back yet?
sef: Good evening, Mudtadi. Yes, I am ready for the Plane.
I wana find judge thomspn
sef: Why?
Need to know y they hate us
sef: You might end up with more questions than answers.
what else is new?
sef: Try your pylon. Meet me in the alley. Avoid Carolina
* * * * *
“Really, Mubtadi. It is fine. You are still learning. It will take time and struggle to establish your pylon. It is no trouble to help you in the meantime.”
“Whatever. I was so close this time.” Jesse walked with Yusef down the alley behind Jesse’s apartment building, the side opposite where Carolina sleeps. The purple sky of the Plane subtly glowed above them.
“Your Judge Thompson lives in south County, Mubtadi.”
“Yeh, but where are we going?”
“To his home. His den, where he sleeps.”
“But… how the fu-- how the hell are we getting there? All these cars ain’t real. Right?”
“Correct, Mubtadi. A very astute observation. While the highways of the waking world are the most common form of transport in the waking world, here on the Plane there are other forms of quick travel. The more astute and dedicated Readers are able to become Paragons in teleportation along leylines.”
“A’ight. Now you gotta tell me. You been mentioning this shit but not tellin’ me.”
Yusef smirked. “Have you ever wondered why pyramids are a common phenomenon across the ancient world before human civilizations even interacted with each other?”
“Aliens.”
“Vortices.”
“Huh?”
“A vortex is a natural and sometimes man-made structure designed over a naturally occurring point of energy that boosts one’s abilities on the Plane.”
“And that other thing?”
“Ah. When you have a specific focus of your abilities, you achieve a Paragon status of mastery in your particular field of focus.” Yusef looked at Jesse to make sure he wasn’t wasting his own breath.
“Uh-huh. Still aliens, but sure.”
“Excellent. Back to transportation and teleporting. Some vortices boost your travel speed from one point to another along a leyline. Depending on your training you might be able to directly teleport a Reader from one point to the next without a problem.”
“‘Without a problem’?”
“Hm. Yes, on occasion if a summoner is distracted they might end up sending their target to a different destination entirely. This is why it’s crucial for Readers to have someone solely tasked with summoning. This is why you are here.”
“Imma be a summoner?”
Yusef nodded his head. “We have an important mission, Mubtadi. This role will be both highly integral for this mission and the least dangerous. Mushiiyat Allah.”
“So I can go anywhere I want on the Plane?”
“Theoretically, yes. Even in and out of people’s subconscious, if you dedicate yourself enough.”
“That’s fuckin-- I mean, that’s sick.”
“I am glad that you are pleased.”
“So what’s this mission?”
“We are going to stop a civil war before it happens. You and I will save the United States of America from killing itself.”
Jesse nodded “Órale.”