We traveled mostly in silence for hours in the car. The sound of Carolina’s cries would ring louder every hour and soften again as she ran out of strength to weep. I wanted to cry too, but every time the tears pooled in my black eyes, I would clench my fists and turn the sadness into anger like Papá taught me.
Most eight-year-olds had the luxury of crying, but I was the daughter of the head of the Cártel. Heiress to one of the most powerful positions on this side of the world, Papá reminded me every day that everything I did, and everything I said showed how much power our family could hold. He said that they wanted to see me crumble and break, because I was born a woman. I couldn’t cry – no, I squeezed my fists until my nails dug into my hands and steam rolled from my nostrils.
Todo es perdido,it’s all gone.
Cézar’s snoring helped me fall asleep after our third or fourth stop for gas. I didn’t wake up again until I saw the flashlights of border patrol officers at our window. Cézar wasn’t really my brother, but he’d been around for as long as I had memories. He was ten years older than me but never once acted like he was too good, or too cool for me. His dark hair was short, and his copper skin was just a bit darker than mine, if you looked at us together, you’d probably think we were actually siblings.
“My children are asleep. Please turn that off,” I could hear my Mamá saying to someone outside of the car.
“We need to make sure they match the photos on the passports,” I heard a strange woman on the other side of her window.
“What time is it Mamá?” Carolina asked, her head on my lap taking most of the backseat.
“Still bedtime mi angel, go back to sleep,” my Mamá reassured her.
“Here, is ten thousand enough? It’s all the cash we have,” my Papá threw the wad from the glovebox at the officer standing at his window.
“Not bad, but I thought you Cártel boys had fatter wallets than this?” Another man’s voice rang out from the darkness.
“Maybe we should turn you back around so we can collect the rest of our fee,” the woman spoke again, and I tensed up as I heard Cézar let out a growl next to me.
“Please - we have nothing left. We can pay you more once we are through,” Papá said to them, in a reasoning tone.
“That’s what they all say. Lucky for you I’m feeling generous - I’ll let your family through for a discount if the Missus here does a little favor for me, you know?”
There had not been many times in my life I’d seen my Papá lose his cool. He was calm, collected, and calculating - that was how he bested his enemy. It was the quality I most admired and hoped to inherit when I got older. The closest I had ever seen him lose his composure was when my Uncle Ignácio’s son called me a puta - a whore- in the middle of a Cártel dinner.
The dinner was a significant event: the remaining three heads of the Cártel families and their closest people were invited to dine and drink. I heard the knife swish by from across the table and suddenly blood was pouring out of my cousin Carlito’s mouth. Cézar was laughing like a maniac as he pulled the blade out of his cheek and the blood pooled down my cousin’s now deformed face.
My Tio′s bitterness was so tangible you could taste it around the room. That day Papá told Carlito he was now as ugly on the outside as he was on the inside. In front of everyone, Papá reminded him that he would never hold a position of power in this family and would be lucky to get grunt work once I was seated as Reína.
“Listen, amigo - my wife here is not for sale; however, I can promise you that whether or not my family makes it across this border will be what dictates how you get home tonight. You see, my men are not confined to the borders you and your little government set. They are waiting for me in Ocean Valley, so you can imagine that if I don’t make it there in time…Well, they will be waiting for you outside your casita– your home. Mi amor what was that address again?” My Papá said calmly gesturing to me in the backseat.
“1355 Rainway Court, Chula Vista, California,” the words came out of my mouth on autopilot from the hundreds of times we rehearsed this in the car on our way here and I hoped to Dios that it was the correct one.
“Yes, 1355 Rainway Court, they’ll be waiting with guns, knives, and bags to put you and your little parts in. Those bags will then be delivered to your Mami’s house - what was that address again amor?”
“229 West Main Street, Duncanville, Pennsylvania,” I recited the second address from the back of my mind as we practiced, and the man’s eyes widened. He quickly turned his flashlight away from my window. I could feel the pride coming from my Papá and a quick check at the half-smile on his face in the rearview mirror let me know I did well.
“Keep the money, please sir, go on,” the man nervously mumbled as he placed the wad of cash back into the car as he signaled Papá to move through the gate.
“America,” my Mamá exhaled, and I wasn’t sure if relief or dread coated her tongue.
It wasn’t anything new to me. We came up here a few times a year for either Papá’s work or to see Mamá’s sister Tia Larissa on holidays. But this wasn’t a visit, and there was nothing to celebrate. Our whole world just turned upside down, and aside from the blanket I was still half cocooned in - there was nothing I carried with me to remember my home, my country, and the remnants of my life.
We spent the next few hours on the road until we finally made it to the outskirts of Ocean Valley. It was your typical big city, positioned perfectly on the beach but extended into deep forests as well. My Tia Larissa was waiting outside her large, gated home as we turned onto her street. She had the same big smile on her face that she wore every time we pulled in, but it didn’t reach her eyes this time. She opened Mamá’s door and pulled her in for an embrace, as they cried for a few awkward minutes.
I could barely hear Tia Larissa as she reprimanded my Mamá, ”Yo sabia!” and words of “This is why Diego is gone,” and my Mamá shushed her sister. Her eyes searched for Cézar who was apathetically staring out the window. She opened Carolina’s door next, but she was fast asleep again. My Papá tried to tell her that he could get her, but my Tia slapped his hand away, rejecting his offer.
“Nonsense Rafael, you’ve been driving for nearly a day. I’d be surprised if your legs even work anymore. Go rest payaso, tomorrow we focus, and we begin to look for your brother and gut him like the pig he is.”
My Papá let the insult fly by and smiled at my Tia, “Thank you, Larissa, I don’t know who I can count on anymore, I’m glad we can still count on you.”
“Eh, it’s your family burning houses down, not mine! I told my sister not to fall in love with a snake, but she couldn’t tell a dog from a cobra and now your Cártel mierda is at my door anyway just like I told her would happen. But I love my family Rafa, which means you too, now come inside.” She kissed my Papá’s cheek and tapped his chest with her palm before she turned to grab Carolina. Before she could do it, Cézar hoisted my sister into his arms and shuffled his way into my Tia’s home.
I stepped into the large two-story Spanish-style house and marveled at the golden chandelier with thousands of shards of crystals hanging from it. I inhaled the overwhelming scent of fabuloso, it was fresh enough I would have bet that she had one of her maids come out here hours before our arrival. My Tia had money, a lot of it, apparently whoever my Abuelo was on my Mamá’s side left both of them a lot of money. Money, she never needed because my Papá had plenty of it to boot.
My Mamá never really talked about her inheritance because it meant talking about her father, and we didn’t do much of that either. All I knew about my Mamá’s side of the family was that she lost her older brother Diego when I was just a baby. Soon after my Abuelo died too, leaving my Tia and her with the remainder of his fortune. I didn’t know my Abuelo on my Papá’s side either. It was rare for any man to rise to power while his predecessors still had a beating heart.
Being without grandparents was just a side effect of growing up in our kind of life.
“Look how big you are Célia! Come here!” My Tia sang from the balcony. “Your sister is asleep in the second guest bedroom, but if you want your own room, there are four up there and three downstairs.”
“Where is your room?” I asked as I walked up to her, trailing my hands on the gold of the staircase railing as my feet tapped loudly on the pristine white marble floor. My Tia was a tall woman, taller than my Mamá - which likely meant she was taller than I’d ever grow up to be. She had short black hair in the style of a bob that went down to her chin and her forehead was a little too shiny, but she was always smiling, and I was thankful for that today.
“I’m going to be staying in the guest house behind the pool, you and your family will be making yourselves at home here baby,” she said with a smile.
“Larissa, are you sure this is okay?” My Mamá asked as she came out of Carolina’s new room turning the light off behind her. Her long black hair fashioned into a braid behind her back, and her coal-black eyes matched mine.
No, mine were somehow darker.
They were my Papá’s eyes.
My Mamá was different in the way she treated me. She loved Carolina so fiercely and proudly, but when it was my turn, it felt like it was all just part of the show that was expected of her. We rarely exchanged more than a few words a month, and most were related to meals. Part of me felt like there was contempt that her daughter was being stolen from her to become a part of something out of her control.
I wanted to think that maybe this is how she protected herself, by staying at a distance from me. There was a part of me that screamed behind the walls of my mind, telling me that there was jealousy there too. I could see there was envy that tore through her because she would never be Queen, not like I was destined to be. She could only ever be my Papá’s wife. Someday when I was old enough, I would rise above her, my Papá planned it so - against her very wishes.
“Jamila, my sister, this house belongs to the both of us, we’ve all been through enough now. There are four of you and one of me - the guest house is plenty! Make yourselves at home please. My chef Luís will have breakfast ready in the main dining room by eight-thirty,” she turned to look at me before she continued, “If your sister is still asleep, I’ll have them put some away for her so that she can eat when she wakes up. Let me know when you are ready to go shopping, you’ll be starting school this week and you’ll need more clothes than what you’ve been wearing in the car all day.”
“TiaLarissa?” it was a question, but I didn’t know what I was asking, I couldn’t help but wonder why she was being so good to us, I mean - I knew she was family, but family was what got us here in the first place. I clutched the blanket in my hand and felt the roughness where the fabric had gotten charred before I was thrown through the second-story window of my bedroom just yesterday.
“This is what family is for Mija, I know it feels a little confusing right now. I promise you this, you have a family that will always look out for you,” Tia Larissa said, almost reading my mind as she knelt down to my level and placed a kiss on my head.