"We came here because we heard they were going to restart the turkey plant near here and might be hiring workers."
"We being you and Jesus?"
"Yes sir. Me and Jesus. I loved him." Then he started crying. I let him cry for about fifteen beats and then told him "That's nice. Keep going." He wiped his nose on his hand and continued with his story but I had to cuff him upside the head first.
"Okay. Okay. We ended up in a place...others like us who were waiting for the plant to open. We moved into some houses that were empty by the dump. A couple of men come by and ask questions...they tell us it was for the hiring. We were happy." He stopped, looked at me, and held up his hand saying "I know. I know. I come to the part you want." Woof cracked another bone and he stopped to take a quick sob break. I heard the truck door quietly open and knew Zane had decided to get out so he could listen in. That was fine. Maybe he wouldn't ask so many questions later.
"Me and Jesus. One day we slip off. It was getting warmer and, well, we wanted privacy." He looked at me, looking for understanding I suppose, so I nodded. "We hear noises of trucks. Jesus wanted to run back right away. He thought it might be trucks coming to take people to the plant." He paused, once again the sign of the cross, "We go back but it takes time. Time enough for us to hear shooting. So we hide and watch." He took a deep breath. "They kill everyone. Little ninos, my friends dog, everyone. They shoot them. Then they throw the bodies into the trucks and drive to the dump."
"Why?" I asked him.
He stood up a little straighter and I actually heard some anger in his voice for the first time. He spread his palms out in the universal gesture of cluelessness and said "Because they could. Because we are not Anglo. Maybe they think we are agents of Aztlan."
"Maybe all of the above" is what I thought. What I said was "Go sit down over there." I pointed to where there was. "We'll leave you some phones you can sell, clothes, and whatever else we can spare."