He pulled it up and showed me. The footage was surprisingly high quality—especially the audio. Dustin and I sat at a table playing blackjack, drunkenly explaining to each other how we would ‘make up a giant lie about how we met each other in college.’ I was a little taken aback, because I usually wasn’t one to brag or speak so boastfully. And we basically admitted to our scheme. I cringed.
“That’s not a good look. But does that really prove that we were lying?”
“You’re not a dummy, Catarina. You’re on record with an immigration official saying you met each other a certain way—a key part of that story. And now we have a video contradicting that statement. I can tell you this is not good, to say the least.”
I squinted. Something didn’t seem right. “But how did you get that video?”
“I’m not legally allowed to inform you. But, I’ll tell you what the deal is. This is an open and shut case. I know the feds have been looking for someone to make an example out of, and this case would be a layup. So you can fight it in court—risk the five-year prison sentence, which is likely—or you can get on a plane right now, go back to Spain, and do things thelegalway. Up to you. I’ll give you a few minutes. But if you don’t go backrightnow, this will be escalated.”
“But—”
“You probably think I’m the bad guy here,” he continued, looking down, then he brought his eyes back up to me. “You know they wanted me to arrest you publicly, invite some news cameras, that kind of thing.” He shook his head, then lowered his voice to a whisper. “If you repeat this, I’ll deny it. But I’m a big Chicago Tigers fan. This is our year, and we need LeBlanc. I begged the feds for a chance to talk some sense into you. If they knew my ulterior motives ...” He trailed off.
“So you’re giving me a get out of prison free card because you’re a Chicago hockey fan?” I reasoned.
“I didn’t say it. You did. Now look, I’ll give you a few minutes in here alone to think it over.” He stood up and started to head out.
“I want to talk to a lawyer,” I protested
“If you talk to a lawyer,” he said, “We’ll have to settle this in court. They’ll be legally obligated to dispute this. And the deal I’m offering you will be nullified.”
I muttered under my breath and sunk into my chair when he left me alone.
When I was little, my dad used to listen to this song in English.You’ve got to know when to hold em. Know when to fold ‘em. Know when to walk away.
Normally, I hated to submit. But this wasn’t a fight I was going to win. And the possibility ofactual prison timemade my stomach curdle.
I clenched my fists and a wave of emotion bowled me over. Was it really going to end like this? It felt…surreal. I took a deep breath, and I knew what I had to do. I couldn’t risk five years of prison time, for me and Dustin.
When the Chicago hockey fan walked back inside, I took the deal. I got on a plane back to Spain. And I felt the nightmare I had felt back in January come true. Before takeoff, I tried to call Dustin, but my phone had no service. It felt ominous.
My mom was surprised to see me, to say the least. I had tried to email her on the plane, but she hadn’t checked it yet.
“Dios mio why didn’t you call me?!” she asked when I arrived.
My phone chip didn’t work internationally, so I had to call my work via Skype and let them know what was going on. I even spoke to good old Phil, who promised to ‘look into things on his end.’ But this did not look good. As he explained it, this was a clear cut case of fraud, and I should stay far, far away from the United States.
I even saw a few stories pop up in the online news, smearing Dustin and me.
After a day, Dustin and I connected on a call.
“Babe. Tell me what the hell is going on?”
“Jackie. I know it was her. She released that video to smear us. Iknowit was her.”
“Goddamn it,” he muttered. “Well. We will get through this. I promise you. How are you holding up?”
I took a deep breath. “Fine.”
“Doesn’t sound like fine.”
“Trust me,” I said.
“Alright. Love you. Talk later.”
We kept up email correspondence, but the truth was I felt anything but fine. Yet I didn’t know how to express this to Dustin. Even though I knew my fear of commitment was kicking in, I couldn’t stop myself. What kind of relationship was this going to be, with me living in Spain for the foreseeable future?
After a few days, I took a walk over to the local cemetery, where I looked at my father’s tombstone. Antolin Gustavo Vidal.
