Most of the passengers planned to continue north but others, forced to stay in Mexico City because they had run short of money, began their farewells as soon as they got off the bus. Luz stood on the fringe of the bustling group staring vacantly around her. The cardboard box that held her things was on the pavement next to her feet. She had reached the end of the line, and she felt lost. At that moment Arturo approached her attempting an awkward goodbye.
“Bueno, Doña Luz, hasta la próxima…”
“Wait a minute!”
She gazed into his eyes with an intensity that made him shuffle nervously. Different thoughts were flashing through Luz’s mind: Arturo wanted to reach Los Angeles, but didn’t have the money. She had money, but not enough for the both of them. He had to stay in Mexico City, and her ticket took her only to Mexico City. He was alone, and she didn’t want to be alone.
Luz walked to a nearby bench taking her box with one hand and Arturo’s arm with the other one. She sat down and motioned him to join her. She paused to look around as she absorbed the disappointment stamped on the faces of so many people. From the way a man on her right was embracing his children, Luz sensed they were soon to be parted. In front of her was a woman whose stooped head betrayed her loneliness.
Luz was quiet for a long time before she spoke. “Arturo, look around us! Everywhere there’s sadness because people are separating from each other. You lost your money because I fought with the official. At least, I think that’s why he took your money.”
“No. That’s not the reason. He would have taken it anyway.”
“Well, maybe. Anyway, let me speak. I haven’t told you that when I began my trip I really didn’t know where I was going. All I knew was that I was looking for my son. Why did I head for Mexico City? I wasn’t sure of that either. Perhaps it was because in my heart I hoped he would be doing what you are doing: heading north.”
Luz sighed deeply. She was aware that Arturo was listening intently. “Now that I’ve reached this city, things have become a little bit clearer for me.” Suddenly shifting her body to face Arturo she said, “Hijo, I want to go to Los Angeles. I think that maybe I’ll find Bernabé there. Let me go with you.”
Arturo jerked his head showing surprise. He was about to speak when Luz put her hand to his mouth. “I don’t think I have enough money to go to Los Angeles right away. But even if I did, I don’t want to go alone. So, let’s stay here together, Arturo. I’ll help you save money, and then we’ll make our way up there. What do you say?”
He was smiling but his eyes contradicted his lips. Luz thought she understood and said, “Don’t worry, Arturo. I can take care of myself. I won’t be a burden.”
He fastened his gaze on his feet. “I know you can take care of yourself. That’s not it.” Then looking at her he said, “Doña Luz, I hear Los Angeles is a big city.”
“¿Y qué? So is Mexico City.”
“Chances are that it will be impossible for you to find….”
“I know! I know!” Luz was irked by the reality of his words. “But I must do it, Arturo, or else I’ll stop breathing.”
Arturo looked at her for a while. Then he smiled broadly as he shook his head in affirmation. Encouraged by this sudden turn, Luz rose to her feet, straightening her rumpled dress. She looked around as if searching for someone in particular. After a few minutes her eyes rested on a man, and motioning to Arturo to follow her, she approached the stranger. The man wore simple trousers, a white shirt, huaraches, and a straw sombrero which he carried in rough brown hands.
“Buenas tardes, Señor. May I speak to you for a moment?”
The man wrinkled his forehead in surprise but, with a smile, he responded, “Como no, Señora.”
“Señor, this is my friend, Arturo Escutia.”
Both men shook hands.
“Señor, as you probably can tell, we’ve come a long way…and we, well…we were wondering if you know…”
“You’re from the south, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And you need to find work so you can buy a ticket to finish your trip.”
“Yes. Many.”
The man gave them instructions on how to go to a laundry owned by a Spaniard. They would find the business in Colonia Cuauhtémoc, a district not far from the station. There, the man told Luz and Arturo, they would find temporary work.
“Muchas gracias, Señor, y hasta luego.”
“¡Para servirles, Senora!”
Turning to Arturo, Luz said, “¡Vámonos!” as she tugged at his sleeve.
“But Doña Luz, why should we believe this man? How do we know he is telling the truth?”
“I know in my heart it’s the truth. Now, let’s go, Arturo. Every minute is important.”
Luz picked up her belongings and Arturo followed her as she headed for the exit. When they walked through the wide doors of the station into a milling crowd, Luz instructed Arturo to ask someone how to find Colonia Cuauhtémoc; she would do the same.
No one paid attention to Luz or Arturo; they were pushed aside or ignored. A few passersby shook their head negatively, others muttered unintelligible words. Finally a man, after taking a long pause to look in several directions, pointed towards the city’s eastern district. Neither Luz nor Arturo questioned the instructions, and picking up their bundles, they walked for nearly an hour until Luz, fatigued and breathing heavily, stopped suddenly.
“Arturo, I have a strange feeling. Something tells me that this isn’t the way to the laundry. Look. It’s alomost dark. Even if we did find the place I’m sure no one would be there now. We’d better think of something else to do.”
“Let’s go back to the station and spend the night there.”
Luz and Arturo returned to the terminal in search of a bench or vacant corner in which to sleep but the station was jammed with transients and weary travelers who eyed one another suspiciously. The scramble for space was made more difficult by the station guards who shooed away anyone who looked like an overnighter. To evade the watchmen, those people searching for a place pretended to be waiting for a bus while they snatched short spurts of sleep.
“Hijo, we’ll have to sleep standing up. There’s nothing else to do. Tomorrow will come soon, and things will be better.”
Next day, as daylight filtered through the city’s thick layer of smoke and fog, Luz and Arturo began their search. This time Luz was intent on not burning her energy following ill-given instructions. By noon, she and Arturo had found their way to the laundry.
The owner of Lavandería La Regenta provided work for Luz and Arturo without questions, and even though it turned out that the wages were low, the work hours were regular. In the beginning Luz, who had only washed clothes by hand, felt intimidated by the oversized machine she was instructed to operate. But she forced herself to overcome her fears by following the instructions given by the owner, even though the machine’s grinding noises rattled her nerves.
Arturo, who was assigned to be a helper on the laundry’s delivery truck, had to deal with the weakness he still felt in his arms and legs. But like Luz, he too forced himself to forget everything and do his work. He liked the job because it took him deep into the city, where he felt sheltered by anonymity.
Luz and Arturo found a room in Colonia Cuauhtémoc the same day they landed their jobs. The accommodations were meager. The room provided only two cots along with a nightstand and a kitchenette, but they were grateful because they had a place to stay when they were not working. Together they began to save the few pesos that remained after they paid rent and bought food.
In the beginning, saving money was especially hard because they and other Central Americans were routinely hunted out by Mexican immigration agents. The harassment posed by the agents of la Migra, who sniffed out the foreigners’ telltale timidity, was constant and efficient. The pattern was always the same.
“Nombre y documentos, por favor.”
Money seemed to be the only thing that mattered to the immigration agents, and like the other workers, Luz and Arturo frequently found themselves cornered by them and forced to produce whatever pesos they had. Once, Arturo had to hide an entire day in a post office while a patrol car cruised the district. As a result, he was docked a full day’s wages.
Luz was frustrated by the intimidation, for she felt that the prospect of reaching Los Angeles was slipping away. She could think of nothing else to do, however; so, she resorted to tricks such as crying out loud, then shouting that she was a poor, solitary, penniless woman who wanted to be friends with the mexicanos while she spent a short time in their land. Even though it worked a few times, Luz decided to abandon this tactic because she realized it only embarrassed the officials into leaving her alone, and she feared they would pick on her even more out of spite.
She decided to try another way. Luz began by offering gifts of food or drink as a substitute for the money demanded by the agents. She also approached them as if they had been her friends for years, using words and tones she had picked up from fellow Mexican workers.
“¿Qué tal, mi sargento? Beautiful day, isn’t it? All of you here are so lucky. No wonder everyone in the world loves you. Here, try this little nothing that I made for you today. How’s the family? I hear you have a beautiful wife and intelligent kids.”
These words were always followed by Luz’s loud, contagious laughter. The ploy not only worked once or twice; its effects lasted. Soon those men looked for Luz among the piles of soiled sheets and pillowcases, not for her money, but for her food and flattery, and her loud laughter. Her success with offering food to la Migra made Luz think about peddling food to her fellow workers. She started a small business and soon she and Arturo were able to begin saving for their trek north.
They lived in Mexico City for more than a year, working every day except Sundays. When they finally had enough pesos to buy their tickets to Tijuana and to pay for the coyote who would guide them across the border into the United States, they felt they were ready to leave Mexico City. On the day their bus left the terminal at dawn, Luz and Arturo were so filled with anxiety that neither dared to share this with the other.