Dark Moon Crossing (3 page)

I parked a few spaces away and got out. The warm night air was filled
with the sounds of music, kids crying and dogs barking. A dim light glowed in
one tightly curtained window when I rapped on the metal door. I thought I
heard movement inside, but then nothing. I knocked again and called softly,
“Lupe?‌ It’s Kendall. I want to talk to you.”

The light went out and I sighed with annoyance. What kind of a game
was she playing?‌ “Come on, Lupe, open the door. I know you’re in there.”

Silence prevailed for another few seconds and then the door edged open
a crack. I could barely make out her face in the light from nearby trailers.
“I can’t talk to you.” Her words sounded muffled, like she’d been crying.

“Why not?‌”

“I just…can’t.”

“Is this about Walter’s silly story?‌”

Silence.

“Okay then, if this has something to do with your job…”

“I…I might not be coming back to work. I have to go away for awhile.”

My stomach dropped to my shoes. “Oh no. Please don’t tell me that.
You know Al’s scheduled to be gone for a wedding three days next week. I can’t
leave Tugg with no one to handle advertising.”

She choked, “I’m sorry.”

I stood there watching my vacation vaporize before my eyes along with
my promise to Tally. But the tragic pitch of Lupe’s voice superceded both
problems.

“Look, whatever it is, maybe I can help...”

“No one can help me.”

“Why not?‌”

“Because…I’ve done something very, very bad.”

“Let me in, Lupe. Right now.”

She hesitated at my tone of authority, then the lamp flashed on and
without further protest she turned away, leaving the door open. I stepped
inside and shut it behind me.

She collapsed in a heap on the frayed loveseat in the tiny living room
and wept uncontrollably into a dishtowel. I sat down on an adjacent wicker
chair and patted her shoulder, waiting for her to regain control, wondering
what kind of trouble she was in. It struck me that I really knew almost
nothing about her other than what was in her personnel file. She’d begun her
career at the newspaper as a carrier, advanced to the pressroom and finally
worked her way into classified ads where she’d been for the past two years.
About her personal life though, I knew nothing.

“Would you like something to drink?‌” I asked when her sobs subsided
and she raised her tear-stained face. She nodded wordlessly and I walked the
three steps to a kitchen so small it looked like it belonged in a dollhouse.
Pity for her meager living conditions blended with feelings of profound dread.
What shocking information was she hiding?‌ Did I really want to know?‌ I opened
several cupboard doors, snagged a glass and filled it from the tap. “Here.” I
handed her the glass and sat down again. “I’m listening whenever you’re ready
to talk.”

She took a few tentative sips, but seemed to be having trouble
swallowing. Finally she quavered, “You’re my boss. I shouldn’t be telling you
this.”

“I’m also your friend, okay?‌ And I can’t help if you won’t tell me
what’s wrong.”

She shook her head. “You won’t believe me anyway.”

“Try me.” My tone conveyed more bravado than I felt.

She stared straight ahead, hollow-eyed, before returning her gaze to
me. “You can’t tell a soul. Not even Tally.” She picked up a well-worn Bible
from the side table and placed my hand on it. “Promise.”

“Lupe, I don’t know if…”

“Promise, or I won’t tell you one word.”

I hesitated several seconds, but it was long enough for two conflicting
thoughts to flash through my mind. The adventurous side of me wanted
desperately to know her secret, but at the same instant, the logical part of my
brain screamed for me to hit the door running before I involved myself
further. I contemplated the steadfast intensity of her gaze a split second
longer before answering, to my own surprise, “All right. I promise.”

She sat unmoving and I could tell by her anguished expression that she was
still waging an inner battle. Then suddenly, she blinked as if coming out of a
trance. She set the Bible down and rose her to feet, pacing the small room
several times before stopping to face me. “The story Walter told about the man
at Morita...the one about the alien abductions…I think it has to be true.”

My mouth sagged open. “You’re kidding, right?‌”

“I know it sounds loco, but I’ve been down there the past two weekends
searching for some clue…anything.” She drew in a shallow breath, whispering,
“But there is not a single trace of them.”

An uneasy feeling nudged me. “Trace of who?‌”

A look of pure misery clouded her features. “My brother, Gilberto, and
my Uncle Raymond both disappeared ten days ago.”

I gawked in disbelief. “Oh, come on, Lupe, get real. There’s no
way…”

Angry tears jumped to her eyes. “See?‌ I knew you wouldn’t believe
me.” She marched to the door and yanked it open. “You can go now.” The
rock-hard gleam in her steady gaze punctuated the finality of her words.

At that moment I really didn’t know what to think of her outburst but I
put up an obliging hand. “Calm down. It’s just that…well, that’s a pretty
amazing statement.” I patted the chair next to me. “Why don’t you sit down
here and start at the beginning. I’m sure there’s a reasonable….”

“There is a witness.”

“To the…ah…abduction?‌” It was an effort to conceal my skepticism.

“Yes. He claims he is the only one who got away from…from the sky
people.”

Her preposterous statement sent a shock wave through me. “Okay. I’m
ready to hear more.”

She closed the door, returned to the sofa and sat with clenched fists
to her lips for another long minute before saying in a barely audible voice,
“I feel like I am dying inside. I honestly don’t know what to do or where to
turn for help.”

I shifted uneasily. “So…I gather you haven’t reported this situation to
the authorities—sheriff, Border Patrol, INS?‌”

“No.”

“Why not?‌”

Her quick glance reflected a mixture of exasperation and chagrin.
“Don’t you understand?‌ I can’t. If
la migra
, you know, the INS finds
out what I’ve done…they’ll deport me.”

The thought that there was still time to cut and run did occur to me,
but she looked so distraught, I was unable to move an inch. “Lupe, why don’t
you start at the
real
beginning of the story?‌”

She hung her head, avoiding my eyes. “You have probably figured out
that I’m not here legally. My green card is counterfeit and so is my driver’s
license.”

My heart sank like a stone, but I maintained a stoic expression. “Go
on.”

“I came across with my stepfather, but he…he got into some trouble….”
Her voice trailed off.

“What kind of trouble?‌”

“Smuggling drugs. He shot a Border Patrol agent…and now he’s in
prison.”

“Christ.”
“I had everything planned so carefully,” she said, nervously
kneading her hands. “I have worked like a slave to send money home all these
years to help the rest of my family have a better life, but much of it went for
my mother’s sickness.” Her thick dark hair fell across her face when she bowed
her head again and fingered the silver crucifix at her neck. “It was never
enough, Kendall. Never enough. No matter how much I sent. God finally took
her last month.”

I put my hand over hers. “I’m so sorry.” Words seemed totally
inadequate.

She swiped away fresh tears. “You know, it’s bad enough that I was not
there with her when she died, but now I have to live with what I have done.”
Renewed panic lit her eyes so I kept my voice low, soothing. “What exactly did
you do, Lupe?‌” Her hangdog expression had me holding my breath.

“I paid a
coyote
to bring them across the border.”

I
cocked my head. “Your brother and uncle?‌”

She
nodded.

My insides went hollow. “How much?‌”

“Three thousand dollars.”

“Oh, man.” I’d read stories like this where the smugglers accepted the
money and then abandoned the people in the desert. “Why would you even consider
becoming involved in something like this?‌ Why couldn’t your relatives wait and
apply to enter the country legally?‌”

She flicked me a look of disbelief. “
¡Dios Mio!
That could
take years! Do you know how hard it is to find any kind of decent paying work
in my homeland or to put food on the table?‌ Do you have any idea of what it’s
like just to even survive there?‌” Her Hispanic accent grew more pronounced as
her agitation increased.

I stared at her a few seconds before answering quietly, “I guess I
don’t.”

In a halting voice she recounted an existence burdened with poverty,
crime, illness and living conditions so wretched I could hardly believe she was
talking about life in this century, let alone a country within a few hour’s
drive of where we now sat.

When she finished, I glanced around again at her sparse living
conditions and thought about all the overtime hours she worked, her weekend
jobs, the crappy old car she drove, her meager wardrobe. Where was my brain?‌
I should have guessed long ago. It struck me also that the newspaper could be
in trouble by having an undocumented worker in our employ. It seemed no matter
what direction we took someone was going to suffer. A rush of sympathy
engulfed me when I thought of Tally’s dilemma with his ranch hands. What a
strange coincidence that we should both experience the identical problem the
same night. “Lupe, tell me more about this witness. Is he still around?‌ Have
you talked with him?‌”

“Not directly.” She looked away from me again and my sense of unease
heightened. Why the furtive behavior?‌ “Is this the same guy Walter was talking
about?‌”

“No. The information comes from a small boy.”

I was dumbfounded. “A boy?‌ How old?‌”

“Four, maybe five.”

I sat back hard, staring at her. “Let me get this straight. You’re
ready to quit your job, go traipsing around the desert hunting for who knows
what, and risk getting yourself deported, all on the basis of some fairy tale
told by a kid you haven’t even talked to?‌”

Her jaw tightened. “Sister Goldenrod thinks he’s telling the truth.”

“Sister
Goldenrod
?‌ And who on earth is she?‌” I hadn’t realized
my voice was rising until Lupe chided, “You don’t need to shout. I thought you
were going listen to the whole story?‌”

I held out my hand in a placating gesture. “You’re right. I did
promise.”

“She is the one who put me in touch with the
coyote
in the first
place.”

“And?‌”

“She called this afternoon to tell me about this little boy.”

I couldn’t decide whether the story was getting better or worse as she
relayed the tale of the Guiding Light Mission, which served as a sort of
unofficial halfway house for illegal immigrants. The woman calling herself
Sister Goldenrod was the minister at the small church located less than a mile
from the border town of Sasabe.

“Sasabe?‌ Is that southwest of Tucson?‌”

“Yes. Why?‌”

Hadn’t Tally mentioned helping out a rancher friend of his in that area
several times in the past few months?‌ I wished now I’d paid more attention to
him. “Oh, nothing. Go on.”

According to Lupe, Sister Goldenrod administered shelter, food and
comfort to the local homeless population and to the hardy souls who were lucky
enough to make it across the miles of desolate landscape and evade the Border
Patrol. She didn’t believe that she was doing anything wrong and stubbornly
maintained that she was merely doing the Lord’s work.

A young family who had recently crossed over happened upon little
Javier wandering in the desert. He was severely dehydrated and hallucinating
about space aliens having supposedly waylaid the van where he and others had
been hiding. Unwilling, or unable to take the boy with them, the couple had
left him at the mission where he was now in the Sister’s care. The problem,
Lupe explained, was that the child appeared so traumatized by the event he
couldn’t remember many details. And even Sister Goldenrod, with her kind
ministrations, had been unable to coax the boy out from under his bed because
he maintained that the aliens might find him.

“I think hallucination is the operative word here,” I said, watching
her crestfallen expression. “Look, obviously something happened, but it’s
pretty farfetched to believe that we’re dealing with a UFO abduction.”

“Then where is my family?‌”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. But I’m afraid that without the
assistance of the authorities in that area you don’t stand a chance in hell of
ever finding them.”

She glared at me. “Are you saying I should forget about them?‌”

“Of course not. We just need to think of a way to approach this that
won’t get you deported.” My gaze strayed to my watch and I flinched in
surprise. Good heavens! Tally and the gang were expecting me at Angelina’s.
How was I going to explain being over an hour late?‌ At that second, my cell
phone bleated a ‘low battery’ warning and handed me the excuse I needed to
explain why I hadn’t called.

Lupe must have noticed my discomfort because she rose from
her chair and said apologetically, “Thanks for listening. I know there’s
nothing you can do, but just talking about it has helped.”

It may have helped Lupe, but I doubted I’d be
sleeping tonight. “Look, I don’t want you running around down there asking
questions and drawing attention to yourself. Maybe an immigration lawyer could
tell us what your status is. Let me give it some thought,” I said, picking up
my purse. “Maybe I could make a few calls….” Lupe’s sharp intake of breath
arrested my words. "What?‌”

Realization gleamed in her smoky eyes. “You’re right,” she said
softly. “I can’t ask the authorities for help…but you can.”

Speechless, I stared at her for a few seconds. “Me?‌ How?‌”

“Don’t you see?‌ You’re a reporter! No one is going to think it’s
strange if
you
are asking the questions.”

She was absolutely right. No one would think it the least bit odd.
But, as her proposal sunk in, equal parts of consternation and excitement
churned inside me. My reporter’s intuition whispered, ‘Go for it! This might
be a great story,’ while my rational side warned, ‘Reality check, what about
you and Tally?‌’ I shook my head sadly. “Lupe, I can’t. As tempting as it
sounds….”

“Please,” she choked, collapsing to her knees in front of me. “Come
with me, even if it’s just for a few days. I don’t have anyone else to turn
to.” She buried her head in her hands, sobbing hysterically. “Please help me
find out what happened to them!”

Pity squeezed my heart. What should I do?‌ How could I just ignore her
anguished plea?‌ I patted her shoulder while thinking that there must be a way
to assist her without jeopardizing my trip with Tally. I did some quick
calculations. We weren’t planning to leave until Tuesday anyway, so…what if I
took the next few days to do a little detective work and got back in time to
leave on schedule?‌ What would be the harm in that?‌ “When were you planning to
leave?‌”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, how does this sound?‌ I’ll go with you and see what I can find
out, but only if you promise to do me a favor in return.”

Her bloodshot eyes mirrored uncertainty. “What?‌”

“We’ll take separate cars and you’ll come back to work on Monday
morning, then Tugg won’t be left hanging. I’ll have three full days to snoop
around and still get back in time to leave with Tally on Tuesday. That way,
everybody should be happy. And if I don’t come up with anything substantial, I
give you my word I’ll take the last few days of my vacation when I get back
from California and we’ll make an additional trip. It’s that or nothing.”

The seconds ticked by as she considered my proposition and finally
nodded her acquiescence. “Okay.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Sort of. The plan sounded plausible, but
getting it past Tally presented the next major obstacle, considering that my
obvious subterfuge tonight put me at a distinct disadvantage when it came to
presenting my side of the argument that was sure to arise. Lupe and I talked
for several more minutes and then she accompanied me outside. “I’ll never be
able to thank you enough,” she said with a tremulous smile. “I’m sorry to
cause all this trouble.”

“No need to apologize.”

“I feel so bad about spoiling Ginger’s party.” She gestured towards
her car. “The other pan of enchiladas is on the back seat. Do you want to take
it back to her house?‌”

At the mention of food, sudden hunger gnawed at my belly. I’d probably
missed a great dinner at Angelina’s. “I’m sure the party is over now. Don’t
worry about it. Get packed and get some sleep. What time were you planning to
leave?‌”

“Around seven. It’s close to a four hour drive.”

“I’ll be here.” I started towards my car, but stopped and turned when
a thought struck me. “By the way, where will we be staying overnight?‌ Should we
reserve a motel room?‌”

An indulgent grin creased her lips as she slowly shook her head. “I
can see you have never been to Sasabe. It is a very small place. Sister
Goldenrod let me stay in one of the rooms she keeps ready for her um…unexpected
guests, or maybe you would want to drive back and find a motel in Green
Valley.”