Land of Careful Shadows Read Online Free Page B

language. This was his second trip across the border and each time had altered some fundamental aspect of his character, changed just a little the limits of what he was capable of—for better or for worse. It was a necessary part of the journey. The first rule. To get here, every person had to be willing to break a law of man or God, to abandon the notion that he was above reproach. Some would do it only once. But once broken, it was easier to sin again. Rodrigo wished that wasn’t true. But he knew only too well, it was.
    He asked his friend Enrique what the noose on the chalkboard was for.
    â€œIt’s hangman, güey. Haven’t you seen them play hangman here before?”
    Rodrigo shook his head. Enrique explained the game while Rodrigo pulled out his purchase from the hardware store. A package of glue. The glue had cost $2.32—more, he was sure, than it would have cost in a big store on the highway. But he had no way to get to the highway. He didn’t even own a bicycle. And his right work boot needed fixing. The leather had separated from the rubber sole. When he walked, it flopped about like a dying fish. He suspected the glue wouldn’t fix the boot but he saw no alternative. Without the boot, he couldn’t work. Without work, he couldn’t buy new boots.
    He was pressing the leather upper hard against the glue on the rubber sole when Enrique’s cousin Anibal walked up to them. Anibal stared at the shoe a moment, then pulled a piece of string from one of his pockets and handed it to Rodrigo.
    â€œHere. Tie this around your boot. Maybe this will hold it together until the glue dries.”
    â€œMany thanks.” Rodrigo was glad of Anibal’s and Enrique’s company today. Both men were from his hometown in Guatemala and he knew them well. Anibal was a year older than Rodrigo, dark and quiet with a broad mustache that hid his mouth and eyes that turned into slits when he smiled.
    Enrique was five years younger than Rodrigo and the opposite of his cousin in every way. As a boy, he could never sit still. He used to tape mirrors to the tops of his feet so he could look up girls’ dresses. He put chili powder in the priest’s wine during communion. People used to say he moved like he had crickets in his underwear. He had a little sister, Sucely, who once fell into the river when Enrique was supposed to be watching her. Rodrigo swam out and rescued her in the swift-moving current. It was one of many bonds that tied them together and made them look out for one another.
    Anibal smoothed his thumb and forefinger down each side of his mustache, something he always did before he delivered bad news.
    â€œThe heat won’t be fixed for a while, unfortunately. The repairman won’t be here for at least another hour.”
    â€œ Ay, chimado!” Enrique cursed. Anibal gave his younger cousin a disapproving look. He was a deeply religious man who didn’t use bad language when there were women present—whether they understood or not. Rodrigo respected him for it—wished he could retain so much of his honor. He’d vowed many things before he left Esperanza seven months ago and he’d already broken the most important one.
    â€œI put our names in the job lottery at least,” said Anibal.
    Rodrigo looked over at the front entrance. On a wobbly card table sat a canister full of numbered Ping-Pong balls. Above the canister, a dry-erase board noted the numbers and corresponding first names of the men hoping their number might get pulled if someone came in looking for day laborers.
    â€œHave any employers come in today?” asked Rodrigo.
    Anibal shook his head. “Not yesterday, either. The economy is still not good.” Rodrigo finished knotting the string firmly around his work boot. It pained him that he’d had to borrow from Anibal to buy the glue. On his first journey to the United States, he’d been able to earn enough to build