Santiago fell back to the ground as soon as the words crackled out of his throat. He heard the ambulance drive away; the people hadn’t seen him. María Dolores. Lights and visions swam in and out of focus. No, he shouldn’t have tried to get their attention. No, he shouldn’t have let them get away. Feet rushed to his side. Alegría’s weight lifted from his back. No, not her, too. Fear fed anxiety as he struggled to his feet and stumbled forward onto his face. “No... don’t... her...” He struggled to talk, his throat too dry and his brain too fried. “Come. F a v o r . Not her.” The same male voice reassured him in Spanish. “She’s right here. I’m giving her a drink. You drink too.” Strong hands rolled him over to his back and lifted his head up, holding a drink to his lips. Exc ept he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he knew for sure Alegría was okay. “Santi.” The gure who held out her hand looked nothing like Alegría. Most of the hair had come out of her pigtails, and it looked more like light brown instead of black. From mud? No, dust. There’d been no water to make mud. Her normally bright eyes were red and swollen. Her arms, which had been draped over his shoulders while he carried her, were burned past red and covered
in blisters. Sunscreen. Hadn’t they used sunscreen? Or had they eaten it? And when had they lost their hats? Days, weeks ago? His brain held no sense of time. “Santi,” she called out again after another swig from some yellow drink. At least she still sounded like her. “Where’s Mami?” Santiago took hold of the plastic bottle the man o ered and swallowed most of it in one gulp. His stomach, the iron gut that could eat anything, re volted, and the yellow drink came right back up again. “You have to take it slow. It’ll help you. But slowly. A little at a time.” The man tipped what felt like drops into Santiago’s mouth. The sweetness clashed with the bile on his swollen tongue. His mouth absorbed that small amount without needing to swallow. A few more drops and, nally, one swallow made it down. Two more swallows and he reached his hand out to grab Alegría’s. “Where’s Mami?” she r epeated, her head turning from one side to the other. Santiago squeezed her hand. Even with the minimal uids, his brain regained some cognitive functions. And memory. The ambulance. And how once again he’d let paramedics take away his family. “ T u m a d r e is in need of critical care, su ering from extreme heatstroke,” the man said. “They’ve taken her to the hospital. We didn’t know you two were here until the ambulance left.” He wore a tan uniform that blended into the brown-and-tan lands cape and a broad, at-brimmed hat. By his dark eyes and wide nose, he could de nitely be m e x i c a n o . His accent and manner of speaking, while awless, indicated education, like a newscaster or politician. “Come, let’s get you out of the sun.” He o ered them each a hand, but neither acc epted it. Instead, Santiago stood, lifted Alegría up, and then followed the tan-dressed man. His feet ached with every st ep, and the rest of his body felt sti and brittle, like he’d snap if he weren’t careful. Slower then, because he wouldn’t let himself break, not while holding Alegría, not when he remained the only person she had left. The truck had four doors and was the same tan color as the man’s uniform. A design was printed on the back-seat door he opened for them. At least the truck didn’t have ashing lights.
Despite the dark interior, the inside of the vehicle felt refreshingly cool. Santiago sank into the cushions, never wanting to get up, while Alegría remained clenched in a tight ball. “Who are you?” Santiago asked. “I’m Jorge, a ranger in these parts.” “ ¿ L a m i g r a ? ” “No, just a friend. Be right back. I have to nish talking with the others.” The man left the car doors open and returned to the police o cer and a woman standing by their nearby cars. “I want my m a m i !” Alegría broke into tears and threw the drink bottle into the desert. “ M a m i t a , ” Santiago said to the girl. He picked up the spilled drink and returned to the cool truck, reassuring himself as much as her. “We’re going to see Mami real soon. Everything is all right. I’m here, and Princesa’s here.” “Princesa is not real,” Alegría muttered. “ ¿ Q u é ? ” He leaned back to stare at the girl. The more he looked the more he could see the girl he remembered from before the sun had taken its toll on her face. He didn’t want to think how he looked. “Of course Princesa is real. I see her; she’s right in front of us. I think she’s the one who got us help. I was really thirsty. Weren’t you?” She buried her face in his neck, nuzzling against him or maybe nodding yes. He kissed her head and rubbed her back. “Whatever happens, we’re both always here. Neither of us is going anywhere.” The policeman Jorge had been talking to barely looked their way as he got back into the squad car and turned o the ashing lights before driving away. Santiago let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. One less thing to worry about. The woman present wandered back to her car with her hands on her head and a look of disbelief. Once in the car, she didn’t start it. Just rested her head on the steering wheel. She didn’t wear a uniform. Jorge returned and handed them each a plastic container of baby food and spoons. From the pictures, Santiago guessed it was some kind of meat (chicken?) and carrots.
“You probably won’t be able to swallow anything more substantial for a while,” Jorge explained. He turned the truck on and let the engine run with the air conditioner blasting but with the doors still open to the outside scorching world. This Jorge didn’t lock them in the truck. That said something. And the fact that he could waste money running the air conditioner with the doors open said something more. Maybe Jorge really was their friend. “Here, m a m i t a , you need to eat something.” Santiago opened the baby food and o ered Alegría a spoonful. She shifted away from his neck and opened her mouth like a baby bird. He scooped the next spoonful for himself. The baby food tasted bitter, like it’d been in the car for months, getting cooked by the intense heat. Alegría shook her head when he tried to o er her a second bite. “You have to eat something. Build your strength so we can see Mami. Three more bites, okay?” She responded by opening her mouth three more times, but no more. His own stomach agreed it’d had enough once they’d nished one container between the two of them. “How did you nd us?” Santiago asked as he drank more of the sweet yellow liquid. “That woman over there thought she saw something this morning but didn’t stop.” He pointed to the woman in the other car, her head still on the steering wheel. “Later she saw it again and got out of the car. When she realized it was a person, she called for help. I think she’s still in shock. We were just about to search the area for others when you stood up and fainted. Are there any others?” “Other what?” Santiago asked. “Other people traveling with you? Or anyone else you’ve seen?” Santiago knew he should say they lived here, belonged here. That their car had broken down and they’d gotten lost. But that would only bring questions he couldn’t answer. “There’s no one else.” “Are you sure?” the man insisted. “The desert can take a life in a matter of hours. If there’s anyone else out there, you’d be killing them by not letting me
know—” “It’s just the three of us,” Santiago con rmed. He didn’t like these questions, like the man was trying too hard. “You’re lucky we found you when we did. I don’t think you would have made it the rest of the day.” “Will Ma—my sister be okay?” “Too soon to tell.” Santiago’s head wobbled, and his eyes began to droop. Already Alegría was sound asle ep with her head against his shoulder. He could feel the drool through his shirt. Good, a sign of rehydration. He yawned. The truck began to move. De ep in his brain, something called for caution. Of what? Or why? Exc ept his brain had already proceeded to go into hibernation. It had been given uids, food, and a cool environment. Not as much as it needed, but enough to let his guard down.