Chapter Two
The small mixed-breed dog cautiously approached the motionless fingers, whining and then yelping as it waited. He nosed at the fingertips, licking them with his rough tongue, but jumping back in fear as the fingers twitched. He sat down expectantly. The boy called out over and over as he searched with his flashlight to now hear his pet's cries. Running over the muddy ground, his feet slipped as his pace quickened as he called out, "Chico, Chico!"
As the young boy rounded the big rocks, he stopped in astonishment as his flashlight revealed the overturned Mustang. His dog trotted up to him and sat up with a begging look as his forepaws pedaled entreatingly at his owner. The boy nearly dropped his flashlight in fright when he heard a soft moan come from inside the car. Gulping, he timidly approached the wrecked car afraid of what he might find but compelled by an inner force to go forward.
The beam of the flashlight revealed an arm stretched out of the car, fingers dug deep into the muddy earth. He again heard the soft moaning and knew it to be a woman's voice. Kneeling down to the ground, he used his flashlight to see inside the car and his heart froze. Her mud-caked hair straggled over a pale face with eyes shut, an ugly bruise showing on her forehead. The lips parted as another groan was uttered.
The boy knew he must be brave now as his hand clasped the woman's. "Senorita, I'm Justo. My papa will know what to do." He put two fingers to his lips as he blasted a loud whistle in the signal his father had taught him when there was trouble.
The caravan was getting ready to leave and Justo's father, Rafael, ground his teeth as he searched for his 11-year-old son. The boy had a natural urge to explore every time they stopped, going off with his dog fearlessly was usual for him, but it was still night and had rained and Rafael feared his son could become lost. His wife, Graciela, came to stand by him as he cupped her face with its concerned expression. "I go now as he can't have gone far, querida (dear)." Both heard the loud, piercing whistle, Rafael grabbing his large flashlight and shouting for his two brothers to go with him. Graciela offered up a silent prayer that her son was in no danger.
"Justo! Justo! Where are you?" his anxious father called out, his brothers right behind him, as flashlights swept the ground ahead of them.
"Here, Papa! Please help the senorita!" cried Justo. "Senorita, my Papa is here. He will help you, I promise!"
The men rounded the rocks and stopped in unison as they found Justo kneeling beside a wrecked car, holding the hand of its occupant. The men hesitated only a moment as Rafael took charge as he was the eldest there. He also knelt by his son as he scanned the inside of the car with his flashlight and looked grimly at Sara.
"Papa, she's alive! I heard her! She's hurt, Papa! I told her you would help her." Justo said in a rush as he looked up at Rafael in complete trust. Rafael couldn't blame his son's desire to help another in need, nor his son committing him to assist the unknown woman.
"Hijo (son), go back for the other men and bring shovels, ropes, and big blankets. Tell our abuelita (grandma) to come to help this woman. Hurry and take Chico with you," Rafael instructed, knowing his son would run quickly back to the caravan.
Rafael's twin brother, Manuel, and their other brother, Domingo, quickly planned what needed to be done. Justo returned with the rest of the men from the caravan who carried ropes, posts and shovels as requested along with lanterns to provide better lighting. Carrying the thickest quilts he could find, Justo put the quilts on top of his father's rain poncho to keep them dry.
Putting himself prone on the ground, Rafael inched into the open space of the Mustang beside Sara. He shook her shoulder gently to rouse her. Sara moaned softly and her eyes opened in surprise to see Rafael - a stranger here to help or harm? Rafael saw the fear in her eyes and tried his best to reassure her.
"Senorita, my name is Rafael Aragon. My son Justo found you. We're here to help you. I am going to place this rope around your shoulders and chest like a harness. My brothers and I will dig you out as much as possible and then pull you out. We don't know if you're badly hurt and will be careful. Do you understand?" Rafael asked urgently.
"Y-y-yes, I – I understand," Sara replied in a shaky, weak voice.
"Bueno, this will not take long, senorita," Rafael said encouragingly as he carefully looped the rope around Sara's shoulders and under her arms. Manuel and Domingo stooped to begin digging Sara out but with care due to the muddy soil. Rafael now stood back up and told the five other men present to put rocks against the Mustang and position the poles and wait.
Rafael went to back to check on the progress of Manuel and Domingo, seeing that they had removed as much of the mud from beneath as Sara as could be done safely. Motioning to the other men positioned beside the Mustang with their poles, Rafael said, "When I give the word, use your poles as leverage to raise the car up slowly. We will then pull the senorita out. On my count: one, two, three!"
As one, the men forced the poles beneath the wrecked automobile and the metal of the car groaned in protest as it was forced upward. Rafael and Manuel reached beneath and with the rope pulled Sara to safety. Sara cried out as fresh pain surged through as circulation slowly returned to her legs, Rafael and Manuel carefully placing her on top of the pallet of quilts. Justo sat beside her, holding her hand as they waited as the small, bent figure approached.
She was the oldest member of the family, the rest of them being her sons and daughters down to great-grandsons and great-granddaughters. Their undisputed matriarch who tended to every illness, great or small, who seemed to have a second sight when it came to knowing things others didn't. Esperanza gazed down at Sara with wizened brown eyes set in a lined, weather-beaten but kind face. She placed a hand on the bruise on Sara's forehead as her hands traveled from the top of Sara's head to the bottom of her feet. The touch of her hands was gentle and her voice soothing as she spoke to Sara in Spanish, a few words of which Sara recognized.
"Pobrecita (poor little one), what is your name?" asked Esperanza now in English as she stroked Sara's cheek.
Sara's eyes glistened as she struggled to answer the simple question put to her. Her mind wanted to comply and tell the old woman what she asked. A blank stare resulted as Sara's voice broke miserably. "I – I – I don't remember."
Esperanza stood to face her grandson, Rafael, as she spoke, "The woman has a bad bruise on her head. Look in the car to see if she has a purse or wallet to tell us who she is. We must make sure she doesn't fall asleep and stays awake for now. The rest I can check in the back of the big wagon. She will ride with me so I can keep an eye on her."
Rafael himself wormed into the Mustang to search vainly for a purse or billfold with his flashlight but nothing was found, even after forcing open the glove compartment and the trunk. He returned to face Esperanza with empty hands and a frustrated expression.
"She is cold and needs dry clothes. Where is Graciela? I need her to bring fresh dry clothes!" Esperanza commanded softly. One of the men left immediately to go back to the caravan.
Esperanza undid the vest Sara wore, helped her roll side to side, and then removed the muddied vest. She handed the vest to Rafael. He rubbed his hands over the back to make out the words in white lettering "Crime Scene Investigation" but there were no other markings on the vest, except on the front where a label looked to have been torn away with shreds of thread remaining. He made a small sound as he read over the words, looking down at Sara and then at Esperanza as their eyes met.
Graciela came quickly with dry clothing as the grandmother had requested. She shooed away the men to return and help the grandmother remove Sara's clothes with care and using scissors to cut through the pants as Sara's lower legs were swollen from the pressure of the car seats. A soft cotton dress replaced the torn and muddied articles of clothing that were left inside the car as they were useless now. Graciela left them there neatly folded along with the vest as Esperanza had instructed her to do.
"How did she get here, abuelita?" Justo asked as he remained by Sara.
"Only our good Lord knows, nieto, but He has placed her in our keeping and sent you to be her guardian angel so she would be found," Esperanza replied as she patted her great-grandson on the head. Justo beamed at being told this.
Seeing things a bit differently, Rafael cleared his throat to ask, "Abuelita, can we simply take her to the nearest town with a hospital?"
"My son, how can we explain this car or that vest or how she got here? There will be more questions than we can safely answer. I'll watch over her myself while we travel on. After we arrive in the valley, I'll help her to get better and then remember herself," Esperanza said simply.
Rafael's shoulders slumped. No one ever questioned the mother and grandmother of them all. Her wisdom was not to be disputed. She knew best. Sara would come with them where she would be safe. It would happen as the grandmother foretold, her second sight had never failed them.
They carried Sara back to the older Chevy Suburban, Graciela having moved things around to make room for the grandmother to go with them along with Sara. Graciela looked compassionately at the dark-haired Anglo woman, using a wet cloth to clean the mud-splattered skin. Sara looked at her gratefully with thanks and then at Justo. Justo was proud he was able to help the young woman, feeling he was indeed responsible for her. Graciela recognized this in her son and she smiled at the young man he was fast becoming.
Esperanza took time to test Sara's moving of arms and legs, how badly her head hurt, seeing if Sara could answer other simple questions such as how many fingers were held up. There were numerous abrasions and fresh bruises on her arms and legs, but the swelling of the calves and feet was improving. The old woman knew that Sara had a nasty blow to the head with apparent memory loss but was otherwise just badly banged up from her ordeal.
Sara felt safe and rested with her head cradled in Esperanza's lap like a child as she watched her closely so that she didn't fall sleep. Esperanza stroked her hair and sang a soft lullaby in Spanish which calmed Sara further. Graciela wet cloths and towels as she and Esperanza prepared to bathe Sara. Justo would ride in front with his father, a privilege he rarely enjoyed.
A local sheriff's car suddenly pulled up in front of the lead car of the caravan, Rafael's Suburban, its red-blue lights flashing. Rafael quickly got out and waited, relaxed with hands at his sides. The sheriff radioed in his location and reason for stopping, then got out of his car and approached Rafael.
"Ah, Sheriff Mayberry, I thought it was you!" Rafael said to the taller man in uniform.
"Rafael?" Any problems here?" asked Andrew Mayberry, local sheriff of Hiko.
"No, Sheriff, we're on our way to the next job in California in the San Joaquin Valley. We just stopped…for a rest break. You're a ways from Hiko," Rafael replied. He had known the sheriff of the little town where they spent part of the year as migrant workers for five years now.
"Yeah, I had to go down to the big city (Vegas) to transfer a prisoner and was on my way back to town when I saw your cars and trucks. I recognized your ol' Suburban and wanted to be sure you were all okay," clarified Sheriff Mayberry.
"Thank you, Sheriff, I appreciate your concern. We are getting ready to go now," Rafael said as he extended his hand to the sheriff.
"Vaya con Dios," said Sheriff Mayberry as he shook Rafael's hand without hesitation.
"The same for you, Sheriff, as it'll be next growing season before you see us," Rafael responded as he got back into the Suburban.
Sheriff Mayberry watched as the rag-tag procession of cars and trucks departed. He scratched his chin as he watched the last of the vehicles disappear into the night. They were hard-working folks, no trouble-makers among them in Rafael's family. Most migrants worked and sent their money home south of the border before returning there at the end of a farm season; seeing an intact family and one as large as this was just about unheard of. Their reason to stay together was simple: the woman who was mother, grandmother and great-grandmother to them all. Blood was thicker than water was his final thought as Sheriff Mayberry climbed back into his car, radioed into dispatch and headed north on Highway 93 toward Hiko.
As the soft colors of dawn pursued them, the caravan resumed its trek for the San Joaquin Valley as it headed south toward Highway 6.