My youngest asks when can he go back to school
by Nilsa Mariano

I was thinking about lunch/ smiling at him I answer soon mi amor/he used to complain that I'm always working/ now I stay with him afraid to leave/outside we hear the slam of doors/we have practiced this/ taking his hand we run up the stairs/they bang on the door three times/ then they slam something against the door forcing it open/the welcome mat fills with broken wood/ we head for the upstairs closet and the secret door/ in that space we unlock another panel that leads to a tiny room/ across the room we head for another panel/ we close and lock it carefully/quietly/ then run up the stairs on tiptoes/a door/ we enter the space another panel in a wall / and we have arrived in the next building / just as they enter the house and search the rooms/ they throw books and papers to the floor/lamps crashing/toys stepped on and tossed/they find the secret door in the closet but do not go beyond that/ they cannot find the panel/we used to have a dog/ but it could not keep secrets/ they have no dog/we hold our breath/ we hear the helicopter overhead// we don't trust they will give up/ voices of anger and fear/ the owners are pushed and threatened with jail/they do not tell/ we are grateful/outside a man on a bicycle rolls by and an officer pulls on his tire/ down he goes/ they ask for ID/ threaten to take him/they stop a car/ glass breaks/someone screams/ they take two unfortunate people/cameras record/ the soldiers decide to stop searching/my little boy looks at me with tears in his eyes/ he knows we have to move again/ he asks in a whisper/ when can he go back to school/ I have no answer/ Mateo said Tuesday is wear a tortilla day/ but only the kids who speak Spanish will wear them/I guess it makes sense/ I nodded/ let me tell you a story/I began/once there was a girl name Anne