Page 163 of Pride High 2: Orange
“Tell me what happened first.”
“We can talk on the way. Give me the keys!”
Her mother swiped at them and kept coming at her, even when Silvia took a step back to avoid her. She had to raise the keys above her head, like she did when trying to keep the remote control away from Hugo. Where was her little brother? And why did her mom have their father’s wallet? What sort of accident had it been?
“Stop!”Silvia shouted. Loud enough to wake up half the trailer park.“Please!”she hissed in a quieter voice.“We have to be careful.”
She could see, through the maelstrom of emotion in her mother’s eyes, a tiny pinprick of rationality that knew she was right and hated the need for caution as much as Silvia did. That surprised her, because Elena usually kept such feelings hidden behind a brave face. Now it was all on display. The fear, the sorrow, the desperation…
“Get in the truck,”Silvia said.
Elena climbed inside. Silvia went to the front door, which was still open. She stuck her head inside and saw Hugo curled up on the couch. He could sleep through anything. Even this. She closed the door, returned to the truck, and got inside, but only to appease her mother. She had no intention of driving her anywhere. Not yet.
Silvia took her hand.“What happened?”she repeated.
Elena fought against tears while trying to get the words out.“He fell off a roof. Raul thinks he broke a leg. He’s the one who came to tell me.”She raised the wallet, which trembled in her free hand.
Silvia felt relief twice over. Raul was her father’s coworker and friend. He was also undocumented and knew the risks.“Where did he take Dad?”
“Saint Luke’s Hospital,”her mother replied.“Please start driving!”
Silvia shook her head.“You can’t go, Mom.”
“Start driving!”her mother snapped before trying to shake her off.
Silvia wouldn’t let go of her hand.“You know why. Think of Hugo. Think of me! If something happens, we need you.”
Even if Elena had to go into hiding and live with a friend. At least she would still be in Kansas, instead of getting deported back to Mexico.
“Then go.”Elena tried to collect herself, but the tears kept flowing.“Please. I need to know that he’s okay.”
“I’ll leave right now,”Silvia said.“Get back inside. Don’t answer the door again. Not unless you hear my voice. Okay?”
Her mother didn’t move.“I could wait in the truck at the hospital.”
“What if Hugo wakes up? And goes to one of the neighbors when he can’t find any of us?”
“I hate this!”her mother snarled.
“I know,”Silvia croaked as her chin began to tremble.“I do too. Now please—”
Elena clutched her arm as she kissed Silvia’s cheek, temple, and hair. Then she let go, and with another sob, climbed out of the truck.“Drive safe,”she said while looking conflicted.“But hurry.”
“I’ll be back as quick as I can,”Silvia promised.
She was buffeted by too many emotions at once as she drove away. Her worst fear was coming true. And yet, seeing her mother so distraught was almost worse. Silvia felt like pulling over so she could cry and scream and freak the hell out. But that wouldn’t help. She did her best to detach herself from what she felt to focus on what could be done.
Over the years, Silvia had imagined all sorts of grisly scenarios and the best course of action for each. She had drilled those conclusions into her parents, who had listened—thank goodness—because it wasn’t too late. Her father’s wallet was proof of that.
“What do you do if you’re taken to the hospital?”she remembered quizzing him on one such occasion.
“I’d only answer medical questions,”Miguel had replied dutifully.“I’ll have someone drop me off at the emergency room, and I won’t bring anything that can identify me. But that’s never going to happen, baby girl.”
He reassured her like that each and every time. And she never let herself believe it. Silvia eased off the gas, even though she wanted to blow through the red lights and stop signs. Why did the damn hospital have to be so far away?
“Don’t go to the urgent care center here in Pride. Not unless it’s a matter of life and death. You’re less likely to be recognized outside of town.”
She shrank from her own advice. What if there had been some sort of complication along the way? Or if the doctors refused to treat him? She imagined her father sitting on a street corner, suffering in pain without any way of getting home. She fought against her rising panic by leaning on logic again. Silvia had spoken to other undocumented families over the years. She had learned from them that hospitals were legally required to provide medical care to any and everyone. So his needs would be seen to. But all it took was a doctor or nurse who resented people like him. One report to the Immigration and Naturalization Service would be enough to throw her family’s entire future into turmoil.
