“San Diego!” hollered the train conductor as he briskly walked down the Amtrak’s aisles. I pulled myself away from the window. The views had become better as we got closer to the shore. I saw the gorgeous long beaches with surfers bobbing in the waves and families having picnics on the sand. I gathered my stuff and straightened my shirt, feeling around to make sure my money was still all there.
My stomach tightened as I realized that I was about to leave the safety of the train and enter another country. Another country. Weird.
“Hey, wanna walk with me to the trolley? We’re both headed the same way; we might as well travel together.” Tony flashed his bright smile.
Once again I wasn’t sure. I was really starting to like this Tony guy . . . but he was still a stranger. Maybe he was some kind of bait for a crazy kidnapper. . . . But when I looked at his grinning eyes and the hair that kept falling there, I heard myself say, “Yeah, sure.”
We climbed off the air-conditioned train, out into the heat of a San Diego summer. I was already glad I had packed light. It was hot enough without having to lug a big duffel bag along with me.
“The trolley is over this way. It’s only a couple of bucks.” I climbed on after Tony and settled back to watch the scenery of Downtown San Diego pass slowly by. There were a lot more palm trees out here than there were at home. Would there be many in Mexico?
“Are you really sure you don’t want to stop by my aunt’s for a little while before you do whatever it is you have to do? It’s a free meal—and she’s a great cook,” Tony offered once again as we got ready to jump off the trolley.
I was about to answer him in a very irritated tone. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. But then I thought it would be a great way to save money and see a little more of “the homeland.” As my tennis shoes hit the asphalt after Tony’s, I heard myself say, “Why not?” I didn’t seem to have any control over my mouth anymore.