The Founders' Plot

“This is it,” Carlos said. “We’ve got to act.”

“I know,” Julio responded, “It’s time to sell the building and decide where we go. Tomorrow I’ll call the real estate agent who sold it to us.”

“We’re going to have to sell it fast, so we won’t get as much as we want for it.”

Julio nodded. “Probably not.

“Still, we’ll have a good bankroll for wherever we end up.”

But the next night Dominic called Carlos. “I just got word that you’ll soon be visited by the ICE picks. You’d better get moving.”

Carlos gritted his teeth. He thought he’d at least be able to sell the building before he had to leave. And Marisol, alone with the four kids. It made him nauseated.

“How soon will they come after me?” Carlos asked.

“Don’t know for sure. But maybe in a day or two.”

“When do you think I should leave?”

“As soon as possible.”

“All right. I’ll go tomorrow.”

“Now, listen,” Dominic said grimly. “I don’t know if the ICE picks or police will chase after you. I doubt it because they’ve got so many people to track down. But act like they’re hot on your trail, breathing down your neck. Take nothing for granted. Don’t stay in one place for too long, three or four days at the most.”

Carlos heard Dominic take a deep breath. “Now, this is going to be tough for you. But you’ve got to do it. Don’t call your wife too often. Me either. If you can find one, use a public telephone. Your phone records can help them find you. And don’t tell your wife where you are or where you’re going. She could slip up if she’s questioned. Got it?”

Carlos said yes, but he didn’t like it.

That night, Carlos and Marisol met with Julio and Carmella to explain what he would do. He watched Marisol as he spoke, remembering how strong she’d been through it all, trying to steel herself for something like this. But now that it was a reality, she must be mortified.

They went over their plans. Julio would sell the building as quickly as possible and look for someplace else to live, most likely near Julio’s relatives in Texas. They’d take only valuables and their best clothing and leave the furniture behind. It was old and not worth the effort of lugging it along. And then, once again, Carmella burst into tears.

When Julio and Carmella left, Carlos sat on the couch with Marisol. “It won’t be for long. Just until you sell the house. Carmella and Julio are right upstairs, and we have other friends in the neighborhood you can depend on.”

“I know,” she said softly, staring at the floor. “I’ll pray for you every day.”

He took her hand. “I’ll do the same for you. Don’t worry too much. This will all be over soon.”

He knew she wasn’t consoled, but pretended she was. He felt helpless knowing that all of this was happening so fast that it unnerved her, and that she didn’t know what to expect next. And he knew that she did not like being away from him, even for just a few weeks.

The next morning, Carlos withdrew $3,000 from the bank for himself and $3,000 for Marisol in case she needed cash quickly. He left his revolver with Marisol, hoping it might make her feel more secure. They told the children he was going away for a while to work at a job in Southern California that paid much more than the one he had here.

As he left, he held Marisol tightly and felt her tears against his cheeks. He wiped them away with his fingers. “I know you’re scared. Me too. But we’ve got to be tough! We’ll get through this. Keep reminding yourself of that. I know you, Marisol. You’re a strong woman … and brave. I love you so much.” Then he kissed her long and hard.

“Te adoro,” she replied.

Dominic had given Carlos names and phone numbers of men in Bull Head City, Kingman, and Flagstaff, Arizona. They would either put him up in their homes or find him a secure place to stay.

Arriving in Bull Head City in the late afternoon, Carlos immediately called one of them, who took him to a motel just outside of town.

“The manager has worked with us in the past,” the man said. “He was an illegal and deported about ten years ago. But he earned American citizenship and came back here. He remembers what it was like to be here illegally, and he helps us when he can.”

Carlos stayed in Bull Head City for three days before going to Kingman. He missed Marisol and the kids badly and worried about them. He knew he shouldn’t phone her because he hadn’t been gone long enough but couldn’t help himself. He called her from the motel phone just before he left Bull Head City for Kingman. She sounded well. But that was Marisol’s way. She’d hide her feelings so he wouldn’t worry. Still, he relaxed a little just talking to her and felt better when he hung up. Even so, he couldn’t shake a haunting anxiety that awful things were about to happen.