We Are Not from Here by Jenny Torres Sanchez

Author:Jenny Torres Sanchez [Sanchez, Jenny Torres]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2020-05-19T00:00:00+00:00

PART THREE

El Viaje

The Journey

Pulga

Hours have passed. I think. It feels like we left Barrios years ago, but it’s only been three days. I think. Already time feels like it’s shifting beneath my feet, something that bends and cracks like the ground during an earthquake.

The thrill that everyone felt when the train first pulled out of the Arriaga station has slowly diminished as we ride, tree branches whipping at us from either side, the sun burning our skin.

I look at Chico, leaning on Pequeña, their arms interlocked. She looks over at me, her eyes tired, but attempts a smile.

The incessant heat and swaying of the train make me tired, too, but I don’t want to let myself sleep. My body rocks back and forth, to the sound of steel and tracks, to La Bestia’s rhythm. And I suddenly remember the promise I made to myself if I got to the train. I quickly reach around for my backpack, clutch it tight as I unzip it and feel for the Walkman. The headphones.

I put the headphones on. I turn up the volume all the way. The train sways and I hold on tighter; the deep green of trees, the yellow glow of the world under the intense sun rush past me. I press play—set it all to music.

The sound of a harsh click rings in my ears. A door slamming shut. And a creaky mattress as someone sits down.

Then, my father’s voice.

Okay, so listen, this next song right here, Consuelo, I’ve loved it forever, right? But now when I hear it, I think of you and I see us dancing. But, like, I see us dancing in my mom’s backyard with a lot of people around us at our wedding. Ah, I can’t believe I just said that! You got me thinking corny shit, you know that? Haha, I can see you smiling. I can see exactly how you’re smiling right now. You’d marry me, though, right? That’s the future I see. Because I love you so much. Ah, I feel so corny saying this shit. You’re laughing now. Anyway, that backyard wedding, my mom will invite the whole family, and the band. The guys will be playing this song right here, and you and I, we’re gonna be dancing, Consuelo.

Good times are coming for us.

Lots of good times.

And your pain, you can leave all of it behind you now.

Okay, so this here es para ti.

I hit rewind. And listen to his message again. My lips silently mouth each word Juan Eduardo Rivera García recorded so long ago. I’ve listened to this tape hundreds of times. I know my father’s words. I know the lyrics to each song. I know the name of every band. I can recite it all.

I’ve listened to it more times than I count—since the moment Mamá gave me the tape and told me that even though thinking of my father made her sad, that I deserved to have something of his. But she worried the tape would make me sad, too.

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