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“We wait until patrol moves past. Then we go in raft and cross quickly.”
“A raft. Again?” Doris asked, concerned. “Is it going to be like last time?
“Great.” Alice groaned. “Haven’t we done enough rafting on this trip?”
“No rapids here.” I chuckled. “The water looks very safe. Just a quick trip across. Easy peasy.”
Alice looked at me, eyebrows lifting. “Easy peasy? With our luck? They’ll be some rogue tsunami that sweeps us away, and we’ll all drown.”
I muffled my laugh with my hand. “That would be our luck.”
“They coming. Quiet now,” Javier said, scootching lower into the pushes. We all flattened down with him, going completely silent while we watched the flashlights grow closer. Soon they were just across from us, and I peered out from the cracks in the bushes, watching Border Patrol scanning for illegal crossings as they strolled by.
Illegal crossings like we were about to do.
It took almost ten minutes of lying there in those bushes with every joint and muscle in my body screaming that I wasn’t twenty-one anymore before they moved far enough down the river that Javier gave us a nod. We were ready.
We limped out of the bushes silently. Javier grabbed a small rubber raft from behind a bush just down the way and quietly pushed it into the water. A quick wave of his hand gestured for us to get in, so we tip-toed along the water’s edge and then climbed in, each moving slowly and silently. My heart raced when he pushed us into the water. Inch by inch, we slid across the calm ripples, closing in on our freedom just on the other side.
I’m coming, Tom.
Just as we started to skid onto shore, a blinding light flooded the darkness. I lifted my hand to shield my eyes, blinking fast against the ocular assault.
“Freeze!” A deep voice boomed.
A splash of water sprayed behind us, and I looked to find Javier gone.
“Shit! We’re busted! Paddle! Paddle!” Marge called out, but the distinctive click of a gun caused her to stop moving and lift her hands above her head. “First Lieutenant Margarita Moretti of the United States Army! Don’t shoot!”
“We’re Americans! We’re Americans! Don’t shoot!” Doris screeched.
My heart threatened to explode out of my chest as I sat with my hands in the air, squinting against the light. The dark silhouette of a man crossed in front of the light, and soon he appeared beside our boat.
“Out of the boat. Now!” he commanded.
The girls and I scrambled to the sides and climbed out, lifting our hands again.
“We’re American citizens.” Marge pushed to the front of us to speak to the tall, young officer. “And we demand you let us return to our homes.”
“Is that so?” He smirked. “Like I’ve never heard that before.”
“It’s true!” Doris cried. “WeareAmerican citizens. Please, sir. We’re just trying to get home.”
“Then why didn’t you cross at the border like every other legal American?” He arched an eyebrow.
“Because we lost our passports,” I said. “There was a rafting accident, and they got washed away.”
“Then you get new ones from the Embassy.”
“We tried. But it will take a week, and wehaveto get back. She’s getting married in two days!” Marge pointed at me. “So, you see, sir, we need you to let us go so we can get her to her wedding.”
“Sorry, ladies. I have no proof that any of this is true.”
“Listen to my voice. This is an American accent,” Marge said slowly, annunciating each word.
“Lots of people who aren’t from the United States have a perfect accent. I’ve been working border patrol for five years. This isn’t my first rodeo, ladies.”
Marge furrowed her brow. “I’m an American Army soldier. I bled for this country, and I demand you let me back in!”
