Red Midnight (8 page)

IT IS THE MIDDLE
of the afternoon when the storm begins to build. A faint shoreline appears to the west. Also there is an island two kilometers north and east of me as I will sail into this storm. I am tired, but I will be even more tired when I cross the Gulf of Mexico. There, the waves and winds will be much stronger. It is important for me to know if the cayuco is strong enough. Also I need to know if I am strong enough.

Angelina crawls under the deck and pulls both hats under with her. The ropes are ready to take the sail down. I am tired but I, too, am ready.

Soon the rain begins. The wind blows strong, kicking water off the tops of the waves. The piece of plastic barrel I have tied in place works. The spray hits the barrel guard and flows around the side into the ocean again. Always I must fight with the paddle to keep the cayuco
straight. “Do not crawl very far under the deck,” I tell Angelina. “You must be close to me if we tip over.”

Today the waves are bigger than before. I leave the sail up as long as I can, but soon hard gusts of wind grab at the sail and tip the cayuco almost on its side. I reach quickly to undo the knot around the seat. The knot is wet and tight and will not pull loose. The next wave hits me and another gust of wind catches the sail and turns the cayuco sideways. I paddle with all my strength to get straight. Again I fight to loosen the knot. The knot is so tight that my fingers cannot pull it apart.

Now the wind makes a sound like a cat wanting to fight. I brace myself for the next wave and pull at the knot with both hands. A very big wave rolls toward me, throwing patches of foam into the wind. Rain blows sideways past me. I know this wave will tip the cayuco if I cannot lower the sail.

I grab the machete and swing the blade down hard on the seat. The rope breaks loose, and the sail crashes into the water. The cayuco tips and rocks. Quickly I pull at the heavy sail and the sail pole to bring them onto the deck. Now the big wave hits us. A wall of water lifts the cayuco like a strong hand. As we go up, the ocean comes over the front of the boat and explodes against the barrel. I am protected. The barrel guard I have made has saved my life.

When the cayuco reaches the top of the wave, I am scared that I will fall down the other side, but the wave
passes behind us as we rush toward the next wave. I know I must always keep the cayuco straight. If we turn sideways, we will roll down a wave like a log rolling down a hill.

I fight hard to wrap the tie ropes around the cloth so the wind cannot blow the sail back into the water. It is easier this time because the tie ropes are already hanging from the sail pole. When they are tied, I paddle into the next wave.

This storm is strong and does not grow tired quickly. Even after the dark clouds pass behind me, the waves stay big and angry. But I know now that the cayuco can survive big waves. I also know I must tie the lifting rope with a knot that can be pulled loose when it is wet and tight. When the wind loses its anger, I scramble to the mast and pull up the sail. This time when I tie the rope to the seat, I leave a loop in the knot.

I think I am beginning to understand the ocean. It is not like a person who is always this way or that way. No, the ocean is always a stranger. One day it is kind and lazy, the next day maybe it is angry or cruel. The ocean does not care how it treats a young boy and his sister in a cayuco. This is something that I must remember.

The waves and the wind stay strong the rest of the afternoon, so I look for an island where we can spend the night. A big one appears ahead of me, and I pull in the sail until the nose of the cayuco aims toward a small shore on the west side.

When I sail close, there is no sign of anybody. Still I am careful. This is not a mangrove patch. The wind pushes me closer. Ahead of me now, there is a small inlet. This will better protect us from the wind and the waves, so I pull the sail down and paddle the last hundred meters through a narrow opening into a protected bay.

I paddle next to a sandy shore. There is a place where a fire has been started, but it does not look new. At both ends of the sandy beach, there are thick trees that hang out over the water. Yes, this will be a good place to stay. What luck it is to find such a place in the middle of the ocean.

But then I think again. What if somebody else does come here tonight? What will they do if they find two children from Guatemala sailing a cayuco? No, now is not a good time to be lazy or foolish. Instead, I paddle the cayuco under the trees at the end of the sand. This will hide us if anybody comes.

Angelina is excited to get out of the cayuco. Her feet have not touched land for three days and three nights. “Stay very near the trees,” I warn her as the cayuco scrapes the sandy shore.

Angelina climbs forward over the deck. When she jumps into the shallow water, she falls down. I, too, almost fall over when I step into the cool water to wade to shore. Our bodies have become used to the rocking of the cayuco. Now the sandy shore feels like it is also tipping and turning.

“Look!” Angelina calls with a giggle. She looks up at the sky and falls over again in the sand.

I try looking straight up myself, but must look back down before I also fall. As Angelina plays this new game she has discovered, I turn and look at the sky. The sun is almost down, and I know that soon it will grow dark. I am glad. Even if the trees hide us well, still I am scared somebody will see us. Angelina runs in and out of the water, splashing her hands and laughing. She finds sea-shells on the shore and brings them to me. She screams, “Look, Santiago! Look!”

“Yes,” I whisper. “They are very pretty.” I put my finger to my mouth, and she remembers she must be quiet. I know shells are something she has never seen before.

When Angelina is tired from playing, I take out the fruit and tortillas. I give Angelina one tortilla and half of one orange. I eat two tortillas and eat the other half of the orange. We have some dried fish, but I will save that for when I need to be strong crossing the Gulf. Also we have carrots, but I save them because they do not grow old so fast. Soon I must try to catch fish.

Because I do not know when we must leave the island, I make sure the cayuco is ready before I take the petate and lay it on the sand. Behind the trees, Angelina goes to the bathroom. This is something she has done many times today. I think that maybe the coconut milk is giving her diarrhea.

I tell Angelina to come and lie down beside me. “I
will tell you a story,” I say. “But you must close your eyes.”

She is obedient and she closes her eyes.

“A long long time ago,” I begin, “there was an island where children could fly—even little girls.”

“An island like this one?” Angelina asks.

“Yes, like this one,” I say. “And on this island, there lived a big lion who wanted to eat the children. So he told them they could not fly anymore because it was hard to catch them. The children all flew high into the sky and laughed at the lion. They teased the lion. ‘We can fly if we want,' they said. ‘What will you do, fly after us and catch us?'

“‘No,' said the lion. ‘I will wait here on the ground. Soon you will have to come back.'”

I look at Angelina, and already she is asleep. This is good, because I do not know what the children will do next in my story. I close my eyes and am asleep before more thoughts come to my head.

I do not know how long I have slept when a buzzing sound fills the air. At first I think it is a dream, but when I awake, there is a boat without lights coming through the narrow opening into the bay. The dark shape motors toward the beach in the dim moonlight. The sound of laughing and yelling and cursing comes over the water.

Now Angelina is awake, too. I put a finger to her mouth, and we watch from under the trees. The boat comes to the shore on the beach. Five or six men crawl
from the boat. They speak Spanish, and I can hear some of their words. They say something about the gringo boat they have robbed.

I am very glad now we are under the trees. I reach for the machete that is beside me. As we watch, the men start a fire. They have bottles in their hands and are drinking. I hope they cannot see us. We are close enough to throw a stone at them. One man stumbles toward us in the dark, and I am ready to run with Angelina when the man stops and goes to the bathroom. Then he turns and stumbles back to the fire.

I want to run and jump into the cayuco and paddle as fast as I can from the bay, but I make myself wait. The men are drinking very much and are still dangerous. Soon they will be even more drunk and tired. When they fall asleep, that is when we will leave.

Angelina understands some Spanish, and she hears the men curse and say things that are very bad. They brag about all the boats they have robbed. Two of the men talk about killing people. Tonight I wish that I did not understand Spanish. These are some of the pirates that Enrique warned me about.

Our sleeping mat is on the sand, and as we wait quietly, I scratch my skin. Angelina scratches, too. The longer we lie there, the more we itch and scratch. Something is biting us in the dark, but there is nothing we can do but wait.

It is a long time before the pirates fall asleep around
the fire. By now Angelina and I scratch madly and our skin burns like fire. Finally I decide it is time. I hold a hand over Angelina's mouth and lead her down the beach. We wade into the water, and I lift her into the cayuco. Again I put a finger to my lips, and Angelina nods. I point, and she crawls under the deck.

I am very careful when I untie the cayuco and push it out from shore. I keep the machete in my hand as I crawl in. Every move is slow because the pirates can see us if they look. I hope they are all very drunk and asleep.

I paddle close to the trees and stay where it is dark. When I look back, the fire flickers on the shore. Angelina and I, we must get away from this island. I know that during the storm today, we survived because I built the barrel guard for the cayuco. Now, again, we are alive because I have been careful.

At last I paddle from the shore and away from the trees that hide us. We have almost left the bay when I hear somebody by the fire shout. Then there is more shouting, and I see men pointing and running around the fire toward the boat. They have seen us.

My breath catches. I have only two choices: we can go back to shore, or we can raise the sail and try to escape onto the dark ocean. I think the ocean is our only hope. If the pirates captured the cayuco on the island, they would soon find us. The island is not big enough to hide us for long.

Like a mad man, I paddle the cayuco out of the bay
into the wind. Angelina sticks her head out from under the deck. “What is happening?” she asks.

“Hide under the deck,” I say, letting my voice sound angry. “Do not come out unless I tell you.”

She disappears.

Now the pirates have crawled into their boat, and I hear the engine start. At the same time, I feel the breeze in my face. If I raise the sail, it will be easy to see us, but if I paddle, they will find us even more easily. Quickly I raise the sail as I hear the pirates' boat speed up. In the dark, I cannot see the boat, but I can hear the engine screaming toward us. I reach down and pick up the machete. I grip it hard.

Now the sound of the motor is very loud, and I know that soon the boat will come through the narrow opening from the bay behind us. The motor becomes so loud in the night that I think it will hit us. Then there is a loud crash. Branches break, and the night becomes silent. The pirates' boat has hit the shore while coming through the narrow opening from the bay.

I feel the waves lift and drop the cayuco again as the island disappears behind us into the black night like a big shadow. I cannot swallow because my mouth is so dry from fear. I know that luck has saved us. For this I am glad, but I know that luck is not a friend that should be trusted.

Angelina again pushes her head out from under the deck.

“How are you?” I ask.

“Are the men gone?” she asks.

“Yes, the men are gone,” I say.

“Who were they?”

“Pirates,” I say, whispering as if I am scared.

“Like in a very scary story?” she asks, whispering back.

“Yes, like in a very scary story.”

I SAIL NOW
into a very black night on a dark ocean filled with angry waves. The wind is loud, but the North Star hangs in the sky, waiting for us. It is good to look at something that is so far away from the ocean and the pirates and the cayuco.

I do not know what time it is. I see the moon, but I am not sure where the moon should be when it is early or when it is late.

Angelina is awake. “I itch,” she tells me, scratching her skin.

“So do I.” I reach down and pick up a coconut. I hit it with the machete until the shell cracks. “Here,” I say to Angelina. “I will put coconut milk on your skin.” As I rub the milk over Angelina's thin arms and legs, I feel her bones and dry skin. She has already lost much weight.
She looks up at me. “Will this help?”

“Oh, yes,” I say, even if I do not believe that my words are true.

“Do you itch, too?” she asks.

I nod and rub coconut milk on my own skin. And maybe I did not lie. The coconut milk feels good. But my hands still shake from escaping the pirates.

Angelina keeps scratching at her bites.

“The coconut milk will only work if you do not scratch your skin,” I tell her.

She nods and keeps scratching.

As we sail, the night is long once again, lasting until my arms grow tired and I fight to keep my eyes open. Always I must look into the darkness and be ready for the next wave. Above me, a thousand stars remind me that morning still waits over the horizon. I spit at the black waves. To answer me, the wind blows spray hard in my face.

I have discovered that the first sign of morning is not a light that I can see in the sky. It is when the stars grow dim and begin to disappear. That is what I finally see this night. As I wait for the sky to become light, I take the machete and I make another notch in the side of the cayuco. I have four notches now. Another night has let me live.

In the daylight, a second shore appears to my right. I blink hard because my mind is mixed up. I still travel north with the wind and the current. This I know. The
cayuco has not turned. But there are two shores now. One is still the shore far to my left. The second is closer to my right. Both shores reach as far as I can see to the north and as far as I can see to the south.

I think at first that I am sailing into a big bay and that we should sail south again. But I am not sure of this. Suddenly fear makes me breathe faster. I pull out the map and stare at it with big eyes. Then I look up at the ocean. No, this is not a bay. To the north there is only open water. I move my finger north along the shore on the map and I try to think where I am. Halfway up the coast of Belize I see many islands, but I do not think that is where I am. The islands are smaller than this land and too far away from shore.

My finger stops at the north end of Belize where a long island drops for many kilometers south from Mexico. At the north end of the island, the map shows a narrow opening that escapes to open ocean. But where am I? If I am south of this opening, I still need to sail north more. If I have already missed the opening, sailing farther north will take me into a big inland bay that will trap me. That would be a very big and dangerous mistake.

I see more boats now and this scares me. Will a military boat see us and know we do not have papers? As I think, I turn the cayuco and sail toward the big island until the west shore behind me disappears. I am sure now that I am someplace very bad because there is no cur
rent. Still I do not know what direction to sail. North? Or south?

Because the wind is from the south, I take a big chance and sail to the north. As I turn the cayuco, I look again at the map. I do not think I understand maps very well. Each time I look, my thinking changes. First I think I am right. Then I think maybe I am wrong. I know I cannot sail up to a big white tourist sailboat and say, “Hello. Please tell me, where is the United States of America?”

I sail all afternoon, looking for the narrow opening between the Belize island and Mexico. With little wind and no current, I do not sail fast. The hot sun makes me feel like an ant crawling across a desert. On the shore, there are only fishing camps. I pass small islands and bays, but still there is no place where the water opens to the ocean. Maybe I am not where I think I am. Maybe I am someplace the map does not show. Inside of me, fear pulls my stomach tight like a great knot.

I am looking so hard for the ocean, I do not see a big sailboat that catches up to me from behind. A loud horn blows, and I turn. I think my heart stops. The boat is close enough to hit me if it turns only a little. The boat has a great sail and a mast that is the size of a tall tree. Standing on the deck are many white people who wear swimsuits and sunglasses. They are waving. One takes pictures of my small cayuco with her camera. I do not know why these people look at us and take pictures.
Maybe they think Angelina and I look funny with our big hats. I keep my head down and tell Angelina to hide under the deck.

The sailboat does not slow. Soon it is far ahead of me. Still moving fast, it turns and sails east. I think it will hit the island, but it disappears beyond the island, still sailing east.

“Angelina,” I say, letting my voice be loud. “Maybe we have found the ocean again.”

Angelina crawls out from under the deck and looks around. “There is no wind and waves,” she says.

“They wait for us out on the ocean with the current,” I say.

“I do not like wind and waves,” she says.

I smile. “Sometimes they are friends,” I say. “They take us to the United States of America.”

The small cayuco sails until I can see around the north end of the island. At first I want to cry because I see only land. The big sailboat is stopped in a bay. But then I see a fishing cayuco going behind the trees into what looks like a big river. I look at the bay and I look at my map. I do not see any big river on the map where I think I am. And I do not think a fishing cayuco goes to a river to fish.

I know what I do now is very dangerous, but I follow the other cayuco. There is no wind, so I let the sail drop. Soon I am paddling along a narrow channel of water that is very shallow and only thirty meters wide. Below the
cayuco there is green seaweed and sand. Soon I see other small boats. Some have motors and pass by me. I keep paddling and do not look up at them.

I am almost ready to give up and turn around when the channel bends. Ahead of me, water reaches all the way to where it meets the sky. Happiness explodes inside me. It is ocean as far as I can see. I paddle faster. Angelina knows that something makes me very happy, and she claps her hands.

Much more time passes before I have paddled through the opening and the cayuco lifts and drops with the ocean swells again. When the winds pick up, I raise the sail. Again the current comes with an invisible hand and pushes us to the north. I realize that I have changed in only four days. When I first sailed from the Río Dulce, winds and waves scared me. Now I am happy to find them again. I only hope they do not become angry with me.

I know now that the land to my left is Mexico, so I sail east until the shore is once again only a thread resting on the water. The spray of salt water wets my skin, and the cayuco pushes through the waves. The other fishing boats do not come this far away from shore. Once more I sail alone.

Soon it will be night, and we have not eaten all day. Still I am happy to be back on the ocean. We did not escape trouble today with thinking or with bravery. Today luck rode with us again in the cayuco. I do not
like this because maybe next time luck will not be so kind.

“Are you hungry?” I ask Angelina.

She nods. “I want something different.”

“We have dry beans,” I say. “But we cannot cook them. Maybe we can soak them in water before we eat them. Do you like beans?” I ask.

Angelina shakes her head. “I want hot chicken.”

“Okay,” I say. “Go catch the chicken, and I will start the fire.”

“You cannot start a fire in the cayuco,” she says.

“And you cannot catch a chicken on the ocean,” I answer. “We will eat tortillas and fruit again tonight, but we will soak beans in water for tomorrow. They will be hard, but I think it is something we can eat.”

With an angry face, Angelina brings the tortillas. “Tomorrow I will look for chickens,” she says.

I smile. “Okay.”

Tonight, for the first time, we eat tortillas that are not salty. Angelina likes this, but tonight she does not smile. I think all four-year-old children have nights when they do not smile. When we finish, I cut a papaya in half and we eat all of it because it will be soft by tomorrow.

Angelina finishes before me and quietly brings the bag of beans from under the deck. To help her, I take a bottle of water that is half empty and pour dried beans through the top. In the morning we will see how beans taste when they are not cooked and can only be soaked
in water. I think that tomorrow will be a good day to begin fishing, too. Raw fish does not seem so bad now.

After Angelina falls asleep under the deck, I begin the next long night. Tonight, as I stare at the waves, the water passing beside the cayuco glows green like a dim candle. The glow dances and flashes. I do not know why this happens, but tonight I do not care because my mind is numb.

Since the night of the killing, my mind has asked many questions. How do I escape the soldiers? How do I find the home of Uncle Ramos? How do I sail a cayuco? What do I eat? How can I live in a storm? Will the pirates see me? How do I take care of my little sister? And what if I am lost? These are only some of the questions that my mind has needed to ask. This is why my mind has grown more tired than my body.

Tonight my mind does not care where I am or where I go. I do not care if there are more soldiers ahead or if there is not food to eat. Tonight my mind is too tired to worry. I think only of sailing the cayuco.

I stare up at a sky filled with stars. After I stare a long time, I see one star fall into the ocean. It is so bright I think it will land in the cayuco. I think that this trip is only a dream that will end when I wake up.