We Never Asked for Wings (29 page)

Carmen closed her eyes against the word, rocking gently back and forth in her seat. Watching her sway, it was easy to imagine her with Yesenia in her arms, easy to imagine the warmth and strength of Carmen as a mother. Letty felt sick, thinking about Carmen sitting alone in her apartment now, waiting for Yesenia to call. She'd been cleared to call her mother, but only twice a week, and every time she called she said she was fine. But Carmen had told Letty she was not fine. The fear in her voice came through loud and clear from across the country. She didn't understand where she was, or why she was there; all she wanted was to come home.

As an answer to his question, Kate lined up her paperwork on the desk, pointing to the words
unaccompanied minor
written in red.

“Yesenia wouldn't give her mother's name,” she said. “Which is common. Kids don't want their parents to get in trouble with immigration, especially when they're the ones who have done something wrong. So the Office of Refugee Resettlement got involved, and she was sent to Virginia, which just happened to be where they had a bed for a nonviolent fifteen-year-old girl with a pending felony charge.”

Letty watched as each of them reacted in their own way to Kate's explanation: Rick's sigh, Carmen's crumpled shoulders, Alex's fear.
It doesn't matter that Yesenia is with nonviolent offenders,
Letty saw him thinking. There was nowhere in the world Yesenia would be safe without him.

As they listened, Kate went on and on, talking about why the Office of Refugee Resettlement existed, explaining that immigrant kids alone in this country were some of the most vulnerable to predators, and that ORR was created to keep them out of the hands of the wrong people. Letty shook her head wildly at this, silently begging the attorney not to go into detail about these “wrong people”—or what they might want with Yesenia. Alex was beyond terrified already; anything else might put him over the edge.

Rick must have had the same thought, because he interrupted Kate before she could continue.

“Look at us,” he said. In his lap he pulled each finger until it popped, barely containing his frustration. “How can you say she's alone? She isn't even close to alone.”

“
I
know she isn't.” Kate shook her head and looked Rick straight in the eye. “I'm on your side, remember? I'm here to help you get Yesenia home.”

The room was suddenly hot. Kate walked to the window and pulled the blinds, sliding the window open as far as it would go. The gray San Francisco day seeped through the screen, and Rick looked up at the ceiling for a long moment, gathering himself.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I know you are.”

Kate looked out the window. Below, an unmarked bus pulled forward, its brake lights glowing red. The windows were tinted. Men, women, children, babies; anyone could be on that bus, going anywhere. No one would ever know. “It's okay,” she said, her eyes on the parking lot. “I can't even imagine what you're going through.”

Sighing, she made her way back to the other side of the desk and pulled a packet of paperwork from the printer. She handed it to Carmen. Carmen, who hadn't spoken a word since they'd entered the office, looked at her wide-eyed. Yesenia needed a sponsor, Kate said matter-of-factly. She would have the best chance of coming home quickly if her mother sponsored her. Men, family friends—she dismissed Rick with a quick look—were tricky. It would be a much longer, harder process if anyone but Carmen came forward.

The expression on Carmen's face was one of pure panic. She'd spent her entire life hiding from anything official, and now she was being asked to fill out a stack of paperwork and present herself to be fingerprinted. And that was only half of it. In addition to everything she had to lose here, Letty knew what would be waiting for her if she were returned to Mexico.

“What about me?” Letty asked, and Alex turned to her with a hopeful expression, full of love and a gratitude so intense it almost knocked her flat.

“They wouldn't release her to you,” Kate said, shaking her head. “Alex is her coconspirator. Unless there's another family member, it really should be Carmen.”

The four of them sat in silence. The only thing worse than Yesenia being taken away was the idea of Carmen being deported. Letty imagined Yesenia returning home to find her mother gone, and knowing it was her fault. It couldn't happen. Did this attorney understand what she was asking Carmen to do? But as if she could read Letty's mind, Kate came around the desk and kneeled in front of Carmen.

“Look,” she said. “I know this must be terrifying. But ORR isn't an enforcement agency. They won't come after you.”

Terrifying
didn't begin to express it, Carmen's face said.

“How do you know they won't?” Rick asked. “Even if ORR's not an enforcement agency, what's to say they won't just turn her over to ICE?”

Kate sighed. “Nothing's to say, honestly. It would be unethical for me to sit here and promise you anything. But I can say that in my
ten years
doing this, I've never seen it happen.”

Alex looked relieved. Given his short life span, ten years was enough certainty for him. But Letty and Rick knew better. His mother flashed him a look, and he glanced at Carmen, who kept her eyes steadily on the floor. It wasn't enough for her either.

Placing the paperwork in Carmen's hands, Kate stood up. There was nothing else she could do. “Just bring it back when it's complete.”

With that she started to the door, but Alex rose suddenly, cutting her off. “Once she comes home,” he asked slowly, looking again out the window and struggling to find the words, “will she be free?”

Letty felt a collective inhale at the question. He was so grown-up, and also still such a boy.
Just say yes
—the mother in her silently begged—but Kate was too much a professional to tell lies, even to ease his pain. Yesenia would never be truly free again. She was on the books now. They might get her a reprieve, but any victory they managed to obtain in court would only be temporary.

“She's not going back to Juvenile Hall,” Kate said finally, meeting Alex's steady gaze. “If that's what you mean. But her case won't go away. We'll ask for relief under DACA—Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals—but even if it's granted she'll have to reapply every two years. And hope that nothing changes.”

“What do you mean by that—
nothing changes
?” Alex asked.

“DACA is an executive order,” Kate explained. “Not a law. Which means it can be revoked at any time. We elect a new president? It's gone.”

As the meaning of the words sank in, Letty watched the tentative hopefulness drain from Alex's face. Seeing him ghostly white and quivering, Letty remembered just how recently he'd been laid out drunk on the floor. She should have brought the bowl, she thought as he dropped back into his chair and clutched his stomach.

“I don't understand how this could be happening,” he moaned softly. “It isn't right. She was practically born here.”

Practically.
Yesenia's entire future hinged on that one word, and Letty knew it, and Alex knew it, and Carmen and Rick knew it, but there was nothing any of them could do about it. Threading an arm underneath his shoulders, Rick pulled Alex to standing, guiding him gently out the door. Carmen followed them, the weight of the papers—and all they'd just heard—slowing her steps.

Pausing at the door, Letty asked: “How long will it take to bring her home?”

Kate thought for a moment, counting something silently on her fingers. “I don't really have any control over when children are released,” she said. “But if you fill out the paperwork today, I can start working on it. And we'll hope for the best.”

“Thanks.”

Letty felt Kate's eyes on them all the way to the elevator, and then again as they walked the sidewalk below her office window, all the way to Rick's car. Sara had done a good job finding her, Letty thought. She was smart and she cared, even if she couldn't completely understand. But who could understand, really? What had happened was beyond comprehension.

In front of Rick's car they all paused, unsure of what to do. It was a long way back to Bayshore, and when the paperwork was complete, they would need to turn it back in to Kate. From the glove compartment, Rick grabbed a pen and opened the back, gesturing for Carmen to spread the paperwork on the flat surface. The live scan office was right down the street. They would fill out the forms here, and then get her fingerprinted and turn them back in. Letty calculated the time in her head. They should be able to finish it all before they had to pick Luna up from school.

But before Carmen could take the pen Rick offered, Alex grabbed it.

“I'm not sure you should do this,” he said. His expression was torn—as much as he wanted Yesenia home, he didn't want to endanger Carmen, didn't want another casualty on his conscience.

Carmen reached for the pen, but Alex backed away, keeping it just out of her reach. They moved in circles across the parking lot.

“Please.” His voice broke, desperation in his eyes and throat. “There has to be another way. She wouldn't want you to do this.”

Carmen dropped her hand and stood perfectly still.
“Es mi hija,”
she whispered.

Her words stopped Alex's frantic dance. Yesenia was her daughter. And he had no right to say what her daughter would or wouldn't want, or to try to stop her from helping. Carmen would do anything for Yesenia, her fierce eyes said. No matter the consequences.

Alex handed her the pen.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. “This is all my fault. Everything.”

Carmen studied Alex, and Letty held her breath, waiting for a glimmer of forgiveness: a nod, a turn of a lip, a word. But Carmen said nothing, just took the pen and turned away from him, and it was Rick who stepped forward, his arm around Alex's shoulders, pulling him close. From where she stood, Letty couldn't hear the words Rick spoke softly into his ear, could see only Alex's head shake vigorously,
no, no, no, no
. With his whole body he fought against Rick, but Rick just held him still, and after a long time, Alex closed his eyes and leaned back against him, surrendering.

“¿Me ayudas?”
Carmen asked. She held the pen up to Letty. Her face was a mask of indecision, and confusion, and fear, emotions Letty understood intimately. But for the first time, watching Rick hold Alex tight in the background, Letty felt her own indecision leave her.

She knew exactly what she wanted.

“Of course,” she said, taking the pen from Carmen and sighing deeply. “Let's get Yesenia home.”

A
lex sat through class for an entire week with his eyes on the clock. Every day after school he walked the familiar path back to the Landing, all the way to Building C and then north through the marsh, to the fence that surrounded the airport. Leaning against the wire, he kept his eyes on the sky, watching planes arrive from every direction. Soon, Yesenia would be inside one, flying east to west, escorted by a uniformed officer whose plane ticket—along with Yesenia's—Rick had had to cover.

Alex ditched last period on Friday and went straight to his post by the water, pulling up the hood on his jacket and tying the strings in a tight knot under his chin, so that only a small circle of his face showed. It was cold. The hard ground cracked and broke apart under the weight of his footsteps. When he got to the fence he made a pad of dry grass to lie on and used his backpack as a pillow.

The queue on the runway was long. As a little boy he'd liked Fridays best, sitting by his grandfather while he worked and they invented the weekend adventures of the people inside the planes, earning points for the most creative or outrageous stories. He tried to do it now—imagining picnics in Yellowstone and a night at the New York City Opera, but his heart wasn't in it. The fun with his grandfather had always been in secretly believing that all of it could be his life someday, and as much as his mother had insisted that he not give up, that he keep going, the future felt different now, fuzzy and unreachable. The stack of books underneath his head, whose sharp corners and thick spines had once felt like a direct path forward, now felt like nothing but a heavy weight.

There was a loud rustle in the grass, just a few feet from where he lay. He sat up, expecting a jackrabbit or maybe even a fox, but instead he saw Wes striding through the marsh. Alex was surprised to see him. He hadn't told anyone where he'd been spending his afternoons.

“How did you know I was here?”

“I tried school first,” Wes said. Alex waited for the reprimand, but Wes said nothing more, just pulled him to standing.

“Come on,” he said. There was urgency in his voice. “Yesenia's plane lands in an hour.”

Everyone was there when they arrived—Rick and Letty and Carmen and Luna, waiting at the bottom of the escalator. They nodded hello but said nothing, all of them too scared to speak. The attorney had called when Yesenia was already in the air, but it still felt like anything could happen. The plane could crash. Or be rerouted, or immigration could change their mind and handcuff her again upon arrival.

And then, suddenly, there she was at the top of the escalator, floating down. Alex bolted away from the crowd, unable to stop himself, sprinting up the downward-moving escalator, tripping over suitcases and high heels and handbags until he reached her. He had climbed halfway up the escalator, his shins scraping against the sharp metal steps hard enough to tear the fabric of his pants, and he could feel a thin line of blood trickling down his leg as he threw his arms around her. But the pain was nothing. All that mattered was Yesenia—home, in his arms, her smile eclipsing everything. She disappeared into his chest, let him hold her all the way to the bottom, where she pulled away and fell into her mother's arms.

Carmen cried great, bucketing tears of relief. Wiping her face, she showered her daughter with questions Alex couldn't understand, and Yesenia nodded vigorously, her back as straight as Alex had ever seen it.
I'm okay,
she said, over and over again, but Alex could tell Carmen didn't believe it, and he didn't believe it either. But her answer never wavered, and finally Yesenia peeled away from her mother, hugging Luna and Letty and Wes and Rick in a line. Never taking her eyes off her daughter, Carmen signed the forms the escort held, her tears blurring her signature at the bottom of each page. When she was done, and Yesenia had officially been returned to her custody, Carmen held Yesenia's hand and led her through the maze of parking lots, where they climbed into their cars and caravanned to Courtyard Terrace.

Alex worried that Carmen would want to be alone with her daughter, but she was too grateful for everyone's help to turn them away. All week, in an incredible display of optimism, she had been planning her daughter's welcome home feast. While Yesenia showered and changed, Carmen poured drinks and set the table and slid a tray of enchiladas into the oven.

Carmen had just closed the oven door when Yesenia came out of her room, wet hair brushed into a messy knot and smelling exquisitely like herself, shampoo and baby powder and strawberry lip gloss. She kissed her mother, leaving a shiny spot on her cheek.

“How long until dinner?” she asked, looking at the clock. It was only four.

“Una hora,”
Carmen replied, setting the timer on the stove for one hour.

Yesenia turned to Alex. “Want to walk to the water?”

Carmen looked worried, as Alex imagined she would look from now on, whenever Yesenia wanted to do anything, or was out of her sight for even one moment. But she didn't object. When Alex nodded, Yesenia kissed Carmen again and told her in Spanish they'd be back before dinner.

Alex followed Yesenia down the stairs and into the marsh. The frozen paths were empty, but still she looked around as she walked, nervous, as if an immigration officer could be lurking in any one of the surrounding bushes. The change was so complete that it was hard to remember her as she'd been the night they'd met on the pedestrian bridge, brave and determined, her eyes full of excitement.

In silence they turned onto the pier, where in summer they had sat together barefoot, their toes lazing in the water. It was too cold for that now. Huddling as close to her as possible, Alex watched each breath leave Yesenia's mouth in a frozen puff of air.

“Are you okay?” he asked finally.

She nodded slowly, then shivered.

“Are you sure?”

She pulled her eyes away from the water and looked at him. “It was the longest week of my life.”

“Two hundred and seventy-one hours, fifteen minutes.” He'd done the math in the airport, as he'd waited for her to appear at the top of the escalator. “For me too.”

Grabbing both her hands, he tucked them under his shirt, pressing them against his stomach to warm them. Yesenia looked past the Landing to the airport, and then past the airport to something only she could see, her eyes glazing over and then snapping shut.

Alex's stomach turned, trying to imagine what she had been through. “Was it awful?”

She sighed. “It wasn't any worse than Juvenile Hall,” she said. “Just a bunch of kids that didn't want to be there, fighting because they were bored.”

He turned her chin to him, studying her face for marks, and then pushed up both her sleeves.

“I'm fine,” Yesenia said, and then she lifted her hand to run her fingers over the pale patch of skin on Alex's forehead, the mark from when the PO had held him roughly against a wall. The scab had shrunk and fallen off, but the scar had not yet faded. “Better than you.”

“It's nothing,” he said quickly, pulling the hood of his jacket up to cover it.

Yesenia raised her eyebrows. She'd tried to tell him the same thing once. Maybe if he had listened, if he had believed she could take care of herself, none of this would have happened. He turned away from her, stricken by guilt, but she pulled him closer and swung a leg over his lap. Straddling him, she leaned forward until her forehead pressed against his. He could feel her breathing on the fuzz of his upper lip. They were quiet for a long time, looking at each other.

“What are you thinking?” she asked finally.

The words sprang out before he'd even had a chance to consider them. “I'm thinking we should get married.”

Yesenia rolled her eyes up to the sky, shaking her head. “Alex Espinosa, you're just trying to get in my pants.”

“I am
not,
” he said, embarrassed, but Yesenia smiled, letting out a tiny, swallowing laugh. It was good, magic, to hear her laugh, to know that she still had it in her to make fun of him.

“You're not even sixteen,” she said. “It's probably not even legal.”

“I'm almost sixteen. And it would solve everything.”

“Everything except that we'd be married. Ask me again when you have a college degree and a diamond ring.”

It stung a little, that she acted like it would be such a bad thing, being married to him, when all he wanted was to spend the rest of his life with her, to make it so that no one could take her away from him ever again. But she didn't give him a chance to mope, pulling him in and kissing his ear and neck and cheek and chin, making her way from shoulder to fingertip. He let her, remembering Yesenia in every kiss, her smell, her touch, her breath, her taste. When she made it back to his lips, he jerked away, another idea coming to him.

“Or maybe Wes could adopt you. Or Rick.”

Yesenia pulled away. She gazed in the direction of her apartment, where Carmen was likely checking the temperature of the enchiladas, setting out forks and napkins, arranging flowers in a vase. Yesenia didn't want to be anywhere but there.

“I'm sorry,” he said, regretting his words. “It was a stupid thing to say.”

Yesenia shook her head, batting away his apology. Sliding off him, she turned to the water, looking out across the bay to where the lights of San Francisco glittered in the gray sky.

“Where would they send me?” she wondered quietly. “I don't even know anyone in Mexico.”

“They won't send you anywhere,” Alex said. “I won't let it happen.”

His words drifted between them, a fragile string of lies, not strong enough for either of them to hold on to. Alex was powerless. If they'd ever believed otherwise, they knew the truth now. But still he couldn't stop himself. He kept going, painting a picture of her life like he wanted to believe it would be.

“You'll stay with your mom,” he said. “You'll apply to private school, and my dad will pay for it, and when you graduate you'll be offered scholarships to all the best schools in the country, and we'll write letters every day and see each other on holidays, and after we graduate I'll get down on my knee with a diamond as big as a star.”

Yesenia sighed, going along with it. “And we'll have babies,” she whispered. A tear escaped from the corner of her eye; Alex wiped it away with his thumb. “A little girl. And we'll name her Maria Carmencita, and she'll grow up in a good neighborhood with good schools, and she'll never know any of this.”

Alex nodded, feeling his own eyes well.

“Maybe,” she said after a time, but she knew, and Alex knew, that the future was the thing that had been taken from her. In two weeks she would have to appear in front of a judge. Her attorney would argue relief under DACA, and it would likely be granted. But it would only be temporary. Everything she worked for, from here on out, could be taken away at any moment. He looked at her, expecting tears, expecting unraveling, but for the first time since she'd left the house, she didn't look sad or afraid. She looked determined. She looked like the Yesenia he remembered, her strength a constant surprise.

“I love you, Alex Espinosa,” she said suddenly, kissing him.

“I love you too,” he said.

And together they stood, hand in hand, and started the long walk home.