Out Like a Lamb

Rafael launched into the trailer, nearly ripping the door off, like he does every morning.

"So my uncle from France, he gave my brother a Rolex for his birthday."  he said, as if he was continuing a conversation instead of beginning one.

"But my brother, he didn't want it!  He already has an Apple watch.   He didn't want a Rolex!"  

We all laughed a little, listening to Rafael's stories about his rich uncle from France.  

Eduardo clicked on his computer, which of course wasn't doing what it was asked.

"Pinche weyyyyy"  he mumbled, trying to get the page to load.  

Shortly before Lola's eleventh birthday, we found another lump on her.  I called the vet to move up her twice yearly tumor check and X-rays.  I was surprised when they said Lola's vet had left the practice.  Lola's vet that helped us through her malignant tumor and radiation and performed another surgery for an additional tumor.  She has guided us through all of this and I felt an awful sense of dread as I booked Lola's appointment with another vet.  As the date approached, I felt extreme apprehension.  Would this be the visit when they say there is nothing they can do?

Rafael launched into the trailer, nearly ripping the door off.  He was hiding something behind his back and all of the boys were smiling.  

"Close your eyes."  he instructed.

"IT"S A...!"  Jaime called out, attempting to ruin Rafael's surprise.

"Mamón wey!"  Eduardo hissed, stopping Jaime from continuing.

"Pendejo."  Danny seconded.

Rafael pulled a large box from a jewelry store bag and produced a golden bracelet with a black magnetic stone on it.  He pushed it onto my wrist.

"Rafael....wow, that is so nice of you...how did you....?"  I sputtered, not knowing what to say.  

"My uncle from Francia."  he responded, smiling.  

I smiled back.  Though I had doubts that this was a priceless French jewelry piece, I found it sweet, yet horribly uncomfortable and I wondered if his mom knew that one of her bracelets had left the house.  

Eduardo spun the globe, slowly.  

"It took a month for me to get here."  he mentioned.

"I didn't really see Mexico, we just went from pueblo to pueblo."

"One night, we were sleeping outside and my arm felt weird.  I pulled off my jacket and there were these bugs all over it and red marks."

I stared back.

"But I'm here now so it's all okay."  he continued, and smiled. 

"Did you know that Mexico used to extend to here?"  he said, pointing up near Colorado on the globe.

"Yeah, before the United States lo robaron."  I answered, smiling too. 

"And Colombia, it was all of this..." he continued, pointing to parts of South America.  

"Panama, too"  he continued.  

"And the Mayans were here."  he said, pointing in Central America.

"But they're not gone."  I responded.

"You're Mayan, so they are still here."  

"That's right."  he answered, smiling broadly.  

They kept Lola for a long time at the vet, sedating her, scanning her.  The vet called me with the results, though Alec was the one who took her to the appointment.  I held my breath.

"The new bump is not malignant.  And her scans are all clear.  There are not mast cell tumors."

I exhaled slowly.  

"So, we will see her in six months!"

"Thank you."  I responded.

"Thank you so much for taking care of her."

 

Still Like a Lion

"The whole fifth grade got their Chromebooks taken away.  They were creating adult profiles during the school day and catfishing multiple adults simultaneously.  Some had more than one profile.  Malikai had a whole couple fighting about him."  

That made for an interesting faculty meeting.  

I found myself snickering a little, knowing I shouldn't.  

I set up the computers for my morning tutorial.  When I opened Eduardo's, I closed it again and left it on the table.  Then, I put it away.  We weren't saving a place for him at the table like people do with dead people.  I checked my email.  What do you know but the day he was scheduled to be deported, the county got his Rosetta Stone sign-in ready for him.  I closed the email.  I put the envelope with his testing accommodations back in my desk.  The one I tried to hand to him the week before and then hesitated, because I hadn't written a Spanish explanation for what it was for his mom.  When I tried to explain, he just shook his head like it really didn't matter either way.   

It was raining as I assembled my walkers for afternoon dismissal.  

"My mom is going to meet me."  Eduardo's sister said.

"Because...my brother's not here."

"I understand."  I answered.

"Don't worry, I'll get you home."

She started sprinting as soon as we left the front door of the school.  I was dragging the rest of my walking crew with me, trying to keep up with her.  At the foot of the hill, I saw what I thought might be a boy.  There stood Eduardo, almost looking like Eddie Munster, wearing court clothes, a shirt buttoned up to his chin and hair slicked down, under a giant umbrella.  He was smiling from ear to ear.

"So... and...entonces????"  I half-screamed.

"They are letting me stay.  THEY ARE LETTING ME STAY!"  he repeated.  And then his mom jumped out from behind a tree, and the three of them sprinted up the hill.  

I walked with the rest of my crew up the hill, almost dizzy and smiling so much myself that my face felt stretched.  My last three walker kids started screaming because they saw a dog.  I walked toward the corner, drenched with rain, while I human-shielded the kids from the dog.  

"Ms. Wagner!"  I heard, called from a car.

I turned to see Albinus with his arm stretched out of the window.  He and his mom were smiling and laughing at me.  I waived back and turned toward the dog, rain covering my glasses and running down my face.  It was groomed to look like a lion.  I have never seen a dog that looked like that before.

And I smiled and I smiled and I screamed towards the raining heavens.  

Hasta lunes

I stepped out of the car at 6:45 in the morning.  The sun is rising earlier so I can actually see more than headlights around me.  Two deer stood staring at me.  They gently crossed the street and hopped down into the woods that lead to the creek behind the school.  One of them had antlers.   

"Muriel, do you like sports?" I asked, after she seemed particularly invested in the Pelé book we were reading.  

"Yes." she answered.

"Which, soccer?"

"No."  she answered.

"Football?"

"No."

"Basketball?"

"No."

"Dodgeball!"  she finally answered, raising her hands in the air like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  

Rafael tore into the trailer, nearly ripping the door off.  After digging furiously in his book bag, he pulled out a little package, wrapped in notebook paper.  In Sharpie, he wrote:  To Danny, mi amigo fiel.  

"It's a phone."  he announced.

"It's Danny's birthday."

And it was.  Danny ripped off the notebook paper and out came a beat up Android with carefully curated apps that Rafael thought he might like.  Tik Tok, What's App, You Tube and Facebook, which Danny quickly deleted.  

"You have to be thirteen to use Facebook."  Jaime announced.

"I'm twelve."  Danny answered.

"Me too."  Eduardo seconded.

Jaime stared at me, aghast.  TWELVE YEARS OLD!!  In his mind, they might as well have said they were twenty-five and drove themselves to fifth grade that morning.  I laughed, not sure how to explain to him that these boys had had a journey that was a little different than his and missed some school here and there along the way.  

"Tuve una novia, pero ya la boté."  I heard Danny say to Eduardo as soon as I walked across the room.  I snickered a little, because it seemed pretty improbable.

"Si, porque eres chingón."  Eduardo answered.

"¿Te puso los cuernos?"  he continued.  

Maybe they are too old for elementary school.  

I make my morning kids grocery store pop-out biscuits on Fridays.  I bring that jam with the red table cloth design on top, too.  They like that kind.  Last Friday, I brought Krispy Kreme instead.  The filled ones.  I couldn't stop thinking that it could be our last Friday with Eduardo and that I should try to make it nice.  He likes the Amulet books.  He checked one out from the classroom library, but brought it back the next day.

"That was fast!  Are you sure you don't need more time to read it?"  I asked.

He hesitated.

"I'm not done.  It's just, I don't know if I'll be back."

"No....just bring it to me when you are finished."  I answered.  

"Let's buy him the whole set." my sister announced later that afternoon, when I told her about the exchange.

"I know.  I had the same instinct...but, would they even let him take them?  When they deport adults, even teenagers,  they don't let them bring shit, not even phone cards or money or anything that would actually...."

"Help them."  she finished for me.

"Do you think they'll fly him to Guatemala?  Or just dump him in Reynosa or Matamoros in the middle of the night like they do the others?"

"Will they call someone, arrange for someone to come get him?"

We went around and around, asking questions without answers.  

The day finally came.  I walked with Eduardo and his sister up the hill to meet their mom.  I gave him his own set of witch fingers because he likes the ones we read with so much and a ring pop, for luck.  

"Look, we are not saying goodbye, because you will be back."  I announced, afraid that I was lying, or giving him false hope.  

He nodded.

"So, hasta lunes."  I said.

"Hasta lunes."  he repeated, and walked down the street with his mother and sister.  

In Like a Lion

And it rained....like a slow divorce.....

I glanced at the clock, knowing it was five-thirty in the morning.

I walked to the bathroom, only to discover that Shark Week decided to pay me a visit.

And I wish.....I could ride a horse....

I turned on the shower and inexplicably, not a drop of water came out.

I patched together what could nominally be called a bath, got dressed and grabbed my jug of juice for my all-day fast.  Just looking at it made me feel hungry.

"Ms. Wagner, Ms. Wagner!" Rafael called for the millionth time and as always, he was immediately in my face before I could even respond.  In my face, no matter what I was doing or who I was helping. As always.  With laptop in hand, though I have told him a million times not to run around the room, not to run around with an open laptop, not to run, jump, scream, grab, etc.  He spun toward me with his open laptop, hitting a twenty-four ounce cup of coffee.  Even with the lid on, it spewed hot coffee all over my desk - over all of my books, paperwork, rosters, computer, even my phone.  

"GET AWAY FROM ME!"  I shouted.

You could have heard a pin drop in that trailer.   All of my kids stared straight at their computers, afraid to even look at me as I wiped the coffee off of myself and my desk.

And I laughed, like I always do.....

I glanced at the clock, knowing it was five-thirty in the morning.  

I took what could nominally be called a bath, because even a plumber could not fix whatever is going on in our bathroom. 

And I cried, like I cried for you.....

"Hey Wagner, I need you, this one, this one....." the meanest teacher in the school said loudly and harshly, eyes widening dramatically.

"He doesn't, he doesn't nothing, nothing.....!!" she exclaimed, shaking her head wildly and gesturing toward a a dark-haired little boy and his mother, as if they were also blind and could not see a very large asshole standing in front of them.

"I'll take care of this."  I answered, ushering them away and introducing myself in Spanish.  It was not even eight o'clock, yet.  

I explained everything to the mother and answered all of her questions.  Then, I took the new boy to music, where the rest of his class was.  As soon as we walked through the door, Danny's eyes fixed on the new Hispanic boy.  He inadvertently started rising to his feet.  

"You have to help him."  I whispered to him in Spanish.

He nodded solemnly.  

And I cried, like I cried for you......

Now I was waking up at five in the morning, before the alarm even went off.  "Balloon Man" inexplicably continued as the unofficial soundtrack for my Groundhog's Day morning wake-ups and sorry excuses for baths.  My hair felt weirdly sticky from the shampoo I couldn't seem to get out.  

"So your first language is Mam, that is really cool" I said in Spanish to the little Mayan boy the following morning.  I had quickly arranged to add him to my before-school class after reviewing his files and being the good kid that he is, he actually came the very next day.  He arrived in the United States in September, around the same time as Raphael.  I wondered how long he had been on the road.  

"You really speak three languages, that is amazing."  I continued.  My desk still stunk of old coffee.  I thought about the clump of eyelashes that have randomly departed from my left eye and tried to act natural.  

He smiled shyly.  We looked at his Guatemalan town on Google maps while I assessed his Spanish reading abilities.  He explained things about Mam that I didn't know.  

"So, I won't be here on the sixth or seventh of March....I'm not sure which day." he told me in Spanish.

"Okay! Do you have an appointment?''  I responded, assuming he might be going to the doctor's or something.   

"Well, I have to go to court, it is about my visa, well, it is about if I can stay here.  They said I broke the law when I crossed the border in Texas."

I stared back at him.

Eleven year-olds don't break the law.  Children don't have court dates.  Eleven year-olds shouldn't be deported and separated from the families they are finally seeing again after years apart.  It is cruel.  It is inhumane.  He is a child.  It doesn't matter who is in charge of this country, our cruelty always remains the same.  I would like one of the people making these laws to sit in a broken down utility trailer behind a broken down school at seven o'clock in the morning and explain to a wide-eyed little boy why any of this is a good idea.  I'd spend good money for a ticket to that show.  

"I'm scared."  he added.

"I love you, mamí."  Rafael called while running at me in the bus line.  

I let him hug me, not that he really gives me much of a choice.  

"I love you too, son."  I responded.  I felt weird saying it, but even worse that this little boy tried so hard with people that are mean to him.  

I watched him and Danny run, weaving their way through the larger kids and the bullies and the racists.  Farther up the hill, Eduardo's family waited for him.  A woman with hair to her knees and a shoeless child tied to her back by a multi-colored textile waived to him.  Danny and Rafael jumped on their janky school bus and it tore up the hill, carrying them out into the world.  

*Lyrics, Balloon Man, Robyn Hitchcock