CHAPTER 5

María Dolores insisted on buying him a new hat, T-shirt, and pair of jeans as well as the shoes. “You can’t go around with your ankles exposed like that,” she said in reference to his too-small jeans, and even he had to admit his original T-shirt was filthy; between the mud party he’d attended with his cousins and sleeping in the abandoned shack for several nights, its original color had long since disappeared.

“How can you afford to be so generous?” The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. Now he’d done it. If he’d learned anything being passed from one ungrateful relative to another, it was to never mention money. He prepared to give up the shoes, the clothes, and the trip to el otro lado, when she laughed.

“I’m not rich.” She gestured up and down at her faded jeans and T-shirt. “A few days ago, I made the choice to leave my old life behind and sell something I no longer wanted in order to get to El Norte one way or the other. I’m just getting what we need and hope I keep making the right choices to keep us safe.”

Finally convinced they had everything, María Dolores let Santiago lead them to the bus terminal. The bus route she settled on took five hours longer than the direct one but ended up saving her thirty pesos. But then she bought them two huge sandwiches, and a roll for Alegría, all bursting with different meats and oozing with mustard.

“The thing is,” she said, biting into her sandwich while they waited on hard plastic chairs for their bus to Capaz, “even though I don’t have much, I like to support hardworking people trying to make a living. I know what it’s like to survive on little.”

“I try not to take from people who have less either,” Santiago admitted, pleased that she talked to him like an equal, like an adult. “Where is Capaz anyway? Is that in el otro lado?”

“Nearly. It’s where we’ll cross. I’ve never been there, but my sister warned me it’s like any border town: filled with crime and corruption.”

“Sounds like my family,” Santiago joked. Except it wasn’t exactly funny.

María Dolores raised an eyebrow. “Trust me, my family is pretty screwed up too.”

Once on the bus, Santiago watched the familiar town pass by. With each tire rotation, he felt lighter and happier than he remembered feeling in a long time. Buses usually meant returning to la malvada’s house. This time, on this bus, he was traveling far, far away. If that wasn’t reason to smile, he didn’t know what was.

“Santi, can you read this for me?” Alegría pulled out a coloring book from her new brown-and-pink backpack. A few sentences at the bottom of each page told the story of the characters, some of whom still waited to be colored.

He leafed through the pages. With the disappearing light, even the images were hard to see. From what he could tell, it wasn’t a very interesting story.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered in Alegría’s ear. She widened her eyes while nodding excitedly. “I’m not very good at reading.”

More accurately, he couldn’t read at all. According to la malvada, Santiago would never amount to anything, so what was the point in spending money to educate him? For the most part he got along fine not being able to read—he knew what the food packages looked like and was great at directions without reading the street names. But at times like this, when there was a book to read and share, he wished he could.

“I can read my name,” Alegría said. “And Mami’s. I’ll teach you.”

“I’d love that.” He smiled as he reached for a strand of hair that had come loose from her pigtails and tucked it behind her ear. “So, why don’t we make up the story? It’s about two bears, right?”

“Yeah! And they’re scared of a bee.”

“Exactly. Because the bee thinks the bears stole his honey when really they didn’t.”

They added to their story, introducing characters and events that weren’t shown in the pictures, until the last page, where the bears and bee celebrated with a honey party.

“Again, again!” Alegría shrieked so loudly her mamá opened an eye long enough to see they were fine and shifted back to sleep.

“The same story?” Santiago whispered.

“Sí, por favor,” Alegría whispered back.

“Okay…” He pretended to sigh, as if Alegría would soon regret hearing the story again. She didn’t. She had him tell the story four more times, adding new elements with each telling.

When madre e hija were both sound asleep, Santiago leaned back on the rear bench and relaxed but didn’t close his eyes. The lights of each passing vehicle reminded him how lucky he was.