Something deep, deeper than the heart, unsettled in Joana’s chest, and her blood felt heavier in her veins as she whispered, “Who are we really fighting?”
Another laugh, then a disbelieving shake of his head.“This is about freedom.All of this with that boy and who you’ve aimed him at for us — it was about freedom for us.You can understand that, can’t you?We never wanted to be part of anything bigger.”
They didn’t talk about much else before Joana thanked him for the breakfast, wiped her mouth, nodded at the poor waiter who’d likely walked hours to work — the state buses were too cramped — then headed out into the warm winter day.Up ahead, there were few civilian cars but what seemed a hundred cargo trucks and a handful of soldier vehicles passing through.Not far from the door, there was an old man with a bad hunch leaning against a cart of various trinkets, including a pole where various cloth masks hung from.Wrestler masks,luchadormasks.
Briefly, Joana recalled a time, years ago, when the kingpin, before his men, before Joana’s father, questioned if Tadeo was truly so obedient to her, if he didn’t suspect her intentions.‘We’ll have to hurt you,’ the kingpin had said, ‘if we find out that you’re not being honest with us.’She can’t remember what she’d said, but, now, she wished she’d replied: ‘He believes too much in God.It makes him naive.He thinks we’re all good people at heart.He believes in me.It’s going to kill him, and he’s going to die believing in me.’
Joana stepped toward the man and his cart of a million trinkets.And, instantly, he smiled, eyes crinkling, lips pulling back to reveal a silver tooth or two.Despite the hunchback, he moved swiftly, almost elegantly.“Oh, young lady!Good morning.Look, I have some jewelry here and toys here for a baby or a nephew or niece.”
“Good morning.How much are theluchadormasks?”Joana reached into her baggy jeans, tugging out a tiny cloth purse — with sarape stripes — unzipping it, pulling out just a few coins as the man named the price.“Thank you, sir.”She handed the money to his shaking, open palm, and he clasped her hand in his own in an affirming, kind shake before he retreated.After this, he asked her who the mask was for — a boyfriend, brother — or if it was for herself, in which case he had a pink one with white flames at the top but he might need help to reach it.“The black one, please,” she said simply; it had white accents as well.“It’s for my friend.”
The man and Joana argued for a few minutes; her begging him to keep the change and him refusing before she slapped the extra money on his cart then took off running across the parking lot, leaving him there to call after her then surrender with a loud: “God bless you!Take care of yourself, miss!Thank you!”
With nothing else to do, given Tadeo’s absence, she went home, talked with her oldest brother, mumbled to her mother, helped with her youngest brother, then took off again in the later afternoon with the mask in her back pocket.
Heading to the border bridge on foot, she followed a line of teen students walking together, looking down at the increased number of tents creating colorful hills along the river.There were quite a few foreigners here now, migrants from southern states or island states or the other side of the Earth, distinct in appearance enough to be noticed but quick to disappear into the backgrounds of wherever they were working.Joana caught a foreigner helping change the tires of a truck, and she wondered if any of them would stay if all the wars in the world ever ended, wondered if the town was irrevocably changed in ways beyond the abandoned homes.Once she reached the bridge, ignoring the mass of soldiers stationed in its vicinity, she reached for her passport and visa.
Tadeo had always thought they were counterfeit, but it’d been easy for her to arrange getting them with the right money.And so crossing the border was simple, requiring just a few coins into the turnstile before pushing through.Again, she followed the students headed to study in Babylon — a rather diverse group of those with private education money and those with public education citizenship.Joana had never finished her secondary education on this side of the river, but sometimes she fantasized about college, about leaving town and saving nothing but herself.
“Hello,” she greeted in a foreign language to the green-clad officers at the center of the bridge, showing identification before they allowed her to walk on ahead, right into the line of students, maids, gardeners, visiting family, and the like.‘If I’m too late,’ she thought of her destination, ‘then maybe I'll leave it, leave her.’Joana reached for her headphones, plugged her ears, then put on some regional music, then her guilty pleasure — the blonde superstar, the Harlot.
Forty minutes later, she finally arrived at the interior immigration office, had her papers checked again.The state official nodded at her, and he asked if she’d heard about the executive orders and the increase in troops that’ll happen by the end of the month, and she lied, said she never heard much about anything.
After this, Joana allowed herself the sweet luxury of a taxi.She slipped into the first car she could find, made some awkward small talk with the driver.Many of those on the side of Babylon spoke the same language as those trapped outside of it.“I’m afraid,” he said, “that they’ll send me back even though I am a good man.I’ve come here only to work and for a better life for my kids.”Joana apologized to him as if she were responsible.“We are good people.You too, miss.We are good people, right?Hardworking people.Not all of us are bad.Those that are bad — yes, send them back.But not me, not you.”
Joana whispered, “I wish this country would sink underwater.”
Finally, the pilgrimage ended, and it was dark now.With her head of curly dark hair pressed against the window, Joana hadn’t noticed, staring at her own reflection in the window, in the silence following her exchange with the undocumented man driving.‘Does God ask for papers to get into Heaven?’What was the border between Heaven and Hell like?Was it like this?She had family on this side of the border too; they lived only twenty minutes from her home hypothetically, but the border more than doubled the time it took to get to them.If it weren’t there, then maybe she would have been closer to them, maybe everything would have been different.
Softly, the man asked Joana if she was well, and she said that she was, and then she reached to pay him too.There wasn’t much she was carrying — her father had taken much of her money.Her mother had insisted Joana be no trouble, to just hand it over because that was herfatherasking for it, and she was his daughter.She was.She knew that.And she did love him.‘I love you,’ she’d told her mom too before heading out.
Suddenly, Joana was ringing the doorbell outside a three-story, wide mansion, having stepped out of the taxi and walked past three luxury cars at some point.She didn’t get the chance to check if the man had already driven away before the door swung open, a distant dog barking somewhere deeper in the house, to reveal a young woman with wide green eyes framed by mascara.Her hair was faux blonde — dark roots betrayed her — and her lips were painted bright red, whereas her cheeks were dusted in pink and her jaw was bronzed.Her outfit consisted of tight black pants, heels, and a silk top with luxury printing, the first buttons almost-scandalously undone to display the upper curves of her chest.Hanging from an elbow, a luxury purse.
“Oh my God,” she said in the foreign language, then laughed, clapped her manicured hands together.She continued in Joana’s language: “I was just about to leave?—”
“I wanted to drive us.”
“You wanted to trap me in the car with you,” snapped the young woman, though she immediately stepped out, pulled the door shut behind her.“You’re crazy.This is why I can’t stand you.”Even still, she retrieved the car keys from her bag, placed them in Joana’s outstretching hand.“We said to meet at the club.So, where are you taking me?Are you kidnapping me?”
“Yes,” said Joana as she headed for the right car, opening the passenger door, then waiting until the woman climbed in before she shut it.After walking around the front, sliding into the driver’s, Joana added, “You still have time to run.”
“You’re crazy,” said the woman again, shaking her head but putting on the seatbelt.“Don’t think I’m not mad anymore.If you don’t stop acting so scary all the time, then I’m going to file a restraining order, you know.”
Joana hesitated, then turned on the ignition and teased, “How many years?”Tilting a long smile over at the woman, she reached to grasp her hand.“Two or five?”The daughter of the kingpin, a girl who hated her name Guadalupe, thought it was too old-fashioned.Years ago, her father had introduced her as ‘La Lupina’ to a warm-faced Joana.
Lupina huffed, then crossed her legs, looked away, and squeezed Joana’s hand.She confessed with the sound of a smile in her voice, “Two.”Then, Joana drove off.
This nightclub was rather different than the one where Joana had met with Lupina’s father — its theme neon with skulls and sombreros and cacti.EDM shook the walls and thumped against Joana’s chest even from a street away after they’d parked and begun walking over.She wasn’t well-dressed, and looked even less so beside Lupina — in her usual sneakers, jeans, and an oversized, plaid shirt she wore and that her mother often hissed made her look like a boy.If it weren’t for Lupina’s status, then Joana was certain she’d have been turned away.Instead, Lupina led her inside, down the steps leading toward the basement, dark in between glowing necklaces and the dim bulbs over the long parallel bars at the walls.A DJ was up on a podium at the furthest wall, a dance floor right before it with all the bodies that weren’t standing by the small couches peppered around, each with a table holding a bucket of ice and liquor.
There was some kind of masked event today — most of the people in the building were covering their face with all kinds of coverings — which Lupina had messaged she didn’t really care for, but Joana reached into her pocket, retrieved the wrestler mask.She yanked it over her face, turned to a laughing Lupina, then pulled her to the bar.Joana ordered them several shots, and then downed them quickly with her, telling her about breakfast with her father while Lupina gagged.When they finally made it to the dance floor, they were adequately drunk, but Joana took a tall beer with her anyway, for the emotional support.
‘I’m not going to bring it up,’ she pointedly thought.‘I’m not going to talk about it.’Joana curled one foot over another and spun on her heel to remember how to feel the rhythm of the music, almost drowned out by a singing, feminine voice.The Harlot.Then, she took Lupina’s hand, pulled her close, then grasped her waist.‘It’s not going to happen.’Routinely, Joana took sips from her bottle, and then went for another one, and then returned to dancing with her girl, her woman.It made her sound like her dad to think so possessively, but Joana really understood him in that moment.‘My woman, my girl.’The shapes of the room were beginning to melt, as were the sensations of Lupina’s body pressed snug to hers.Another spin.Lupina ground down on Joana’s leg between her own, as if they were dancing regional music out on a ranch.Once, Lupina had taken Joana to her ranch, and they had curled up on a bench swing together, listening to the birds.
They couldn’t be at the club long, Lupina had warned the day before; her friends — a mixture of the wealthy from both sides of the river — had begun showing up here so often, but she was desperate to dance, to dance with Joana.‘You love to dance, but they don’t know, do they?’Joana breathed against her girlfriend’s neck, and Lupina shivered.‘Your friends don’t know me.’Lupina pulled back, locked a hazy gaze with her.‘Your friends don’t know you either.Not like I do.’Then, Lupina stepped away, turned on her heel, began walking toward the bathrooms.
Slow, Joana lowered her hands, breathing in, out, in, out before lifting her beer bottle to her mouth and taking the last sips.Half-awake, half-lucid, she felt a man try to touch her, but Joana shoved him back without thinking, then headed after Lupina.Her feet stumbled as she moved, and every kind of person bumped into either side of her, but Joana could barely hear their snaps or insults or apologies.Only the sweep of Lupina’s hair held her attention.Hurrying past the entrance to the bathroom, Joana noted the beautiful women by the sinks, reapplying makeup, talking, before Joana managed to catch Lupina slip into the furthest stall from the door.
‘That man your father wants for you will never know you either.Not like me.’Joana couldn’t help remembering her argument with Lupina now, but she approached anyway.‘I know his ugly fucking face.The stupid cut of his hair.’The stall door was ajar, unlocked for her.‘What is his name?I can’t remember.Your father invited me to the wedding already.Do you want me there?Do you think you could bear seeing me?Would you say I’m a friend or that you don’t know me well, that I’m just some girl your father introduced to you some night by the grill?Can you make yourself believe it?’
