Border Town Children Series: Collection of Short Stories

Flashlight
From a series of short stories called Border Town Children
 
     The outside panels showed the structure’s age. White paint had began peeling many years ago. The modest, wooden two-bedroom house stood silent. The only sound was an occasional creaking of the faded wooden floor. It echoed when Eduardo made his way to his room, an after school ritual.

     Eduardo changed into his play clothes, grabbed a snack and went outside to play. He had one hour. At five o'clock, he had strict orders to get back inside the house and lock the door. He never really understood why until today.

     His mother and father usually arrived from work between five and six. Today, it would be different. Neither would make it home. Only men dressed green uniforms would be knocking on the door, searching for Eduardo and other undocumented children.

     At five o'clock, Eduardo locked the door and headed to his room. Once in his room, his vivid imagination turned his bedroom into a fantasy world from miniature ranches with horses and other animals to a Civil War battle field he had read about at his elementary school.

     As the clock on his wall headed toward six o'clock, Eduardo watched every minute disappear and wondered why his parents were late. His face frowned at the thought of his parents not coming home. After all, his mother and father always arrived from work between five and six.

     At six o'clock, he made his way to the living room and stared out the window hoping to see his parents make their routine walk toward the house. He wanted to unlock the door and open it as they got home. As the clock flew past six o’clock, he began to realize that today, they would never make that walk. He let out a disappointing sigh and closed the blinds.

     He sat on the wooden floor with his back leaning against the wall. He thoughts ran wild. Had his parents been the victims of an immigration raid. He had heard about how men in green uniforms would show up to the fields and factories looking for undocumented workers. They would then be marched into old buses and some were sent to a jail while others were deported back to Mexico.
 
     Eduardo bowed his head and wiped away tears that had now flooded his soft face. He rubbed his eyes only to feel an irritation and he was sure they had turned red like he had been crying. With his head still bowed he stood whispering to himself, “Boys don’t cry.”

     He dragged his feet as he walked across the living room, searching for courage to do what he had been instructed to do if something like this ever happened. He hurried from room to room closing the white plastic blinds that covered each window. He locked the two doors into the house and then he headed back to his room.

     At twenty minutes after the hour, it happened. There were three loud knocks on the door. They were so loud they made Eduardo shiver. He thought his heart had stopped beating. He fell to his knees and crawled out of his room down the hallway. Once at the end of the hallway, he peeked across the living room to the front door. More knocks echoed across the silent house. Eduardo remained motionless, following his parent’s instructions.

     When the knocks finally ended, he concluded that the visitors had left. Eduardo’s curiosity led him to disobey his parents and he began crawling across the living room to the window next to the front door. Once there, he got to his knees and used his nimble fingers to separate the slats of the blinds. He took a quick peak and saw two men in green uniforms getting into a jeep. It wasn’t until they drove off that Eduardo collapsed on the floor, his face finding comfort between is two hands. “They’re looking for the children,” his whispered. “Looking for me.”

     Eduardo knew that his next move was to fix something for dinner. He had to do it before light of day faded into the horizon. He had been well prepared for situations like this. Not a single light was to be turned on in the house after the sun went down. That would draw attention to the house and it might bring back the men in green.

     Eduardo adored his mother. She had taught him how to make scrambled eggs, his favorite. By cooking eggs, he could make migas, or even a breakfast burrito. With tears finding his eyes once more, he began to fix his dinner.
The evening darkness flooded the house leaving only occasional shadows. Eduardo maneuvered his way to his bedroom and quietly found the floor next to his bed. He stretched his thin arms.

     “Where is it?” He asked.

In pitch darkness, he forced his nine-year-old frame to crawl underneath the old box spring holding the mattress, hoping to avoid dangling rusted wires.

     “Got it,” he said.

His fingers found the long plastic cylinder he was looking for. He found the switch and turned on a long, black flashlight his father had given him. He wasn’t sure anyone could see the light that now flooded the bottom of his bed. Not being sure, he turned it off and faced a blinding darkness.
He crawled from underneath his bed and sat, leaning against the bed frame. He found himself hugging the flashlight. Tears returned, flooding his tender face. He wanted to cry aloud, yell for his parents. Instead, uncontrollable whimpers filled his room. His body curled, begging for his mother’s warm arms.

     Minutes later, his head popped up and his crying stopped at the sound of car’s engine. He crawled to his window, pulled two of the plastic slats and peeked. He couldn’t get a good view. His bedroom window faced the neighbors house, not the front street. He needed to get a better look down the side of the house, toward the street and find the source.
“But what if it’s the men in green?” Eduardo’s heart seemed to stop. “They’re looking for me.”

     Eduardo pulled the blinds back and slid his head between the blinds and the window. “They can’t see me from here,” he convinced himself.

     His nose rubbed against the cold window pane and then he turned his face sideways, stretching to see down the side of the house toward the street. His breathing nearly stopped. He didn’t move a muscle, making sure not to draw attention. The same green jeep crawled down the street.

     As soon as the jeep disappeared down the street, Eduardo’s eyes went wide and his mouth dropped. Beams of lights suddenly began to shoot into the sky.
“What are they? Where are they coming from?” He wondered.

     The beams provided a sudden source of entertainment. They looked like nightlights dancing across the sky. Some were brighter than others, streaking from one end of the horizon to the other.

     “One, two, three,” Eduardo began to count them stopping at seven beams and then focused on the one nearest to him. That beam came from the neighbor’s window. “They’re flashlights,” he whispered.

     Eduardo reached for his flashlight, hitting it with the knuckles of his right hand and making it roll across the wooden floor. He slid his head from between the blinds and the window, and crawled around his room. His room seemed darker now and the shadows had disappeared. Ignoring the blinding darkness, his arms reached in all directions hoping to make contact with the flashlight.

     His left hand slammed against the flashlight, sending it rolling away from him. Crawling on all fours, he quickly followed the noise. His knees slipped, sending his body flying with his ribs landing on the flashlight. “No!” he groaned.

     Catching his breathe, she secured the flashlight in his right hand and made his way back to the window. He slid his head between the blinds and the window pane. The nightlights were still dancing in the sky. He unlocked the window and pushed it up, creating enough room for his arm and flashlight.

     It was the first time Eduardo had smiled all evening. He pointed his flashlight into the heavens and turned it on. “It’s brighter than the rest,” he said. He pointed it to the right and then across the sky to the left. He had joined the dancing.
After a few minutes of maneuvering his nightlight across the heavens, Eduardo noticed a beam of light was targeted his face. The beam filled the window and the white blinds framed his face, and arm that was sticking out holding his flashlight. In one awkward motion, he turned his flashlight off and slid behind the blinds.

     “Who was that?” He whispered. The light was so blinding and had caught him by surprise that he didn’t get a chance to identify the source of the beam. He panicked and hid. “Someone knows I’m here,” he said.