And so I sail into another night. I sleep, but always I think a part of my mind stays awake. In the middle of the night the waves grow bigger and the wind grabs at the cayuco. I decide to sleep a little more. I will let the ocean keep pushing me north. Each minute I sail, I am a little closer to the United States of America. Soon I will lower the sail, I tell myself.
That is my last thought before I wake up falling sideways into the water. There is a big splash as the mast hits the water and a giant wave rolls over the cayuco from the side. Angelina screams and I know I must find her.
“Angelina!” I yell. “Angelina!”
I think she is still inside the cayuco, so I swim beside the boat and reach my arm under the deck. My fingers find her small arm, and I pull her to air. She coughs and spits, then screams like she is dying. I hold the cayuco with one hand, and with the other, I hold Angelina.
In the dark, the waves lift and drop us, and the wind is so strong, it makes me close my eyes. But we are okay. Something bumps my shoulder. I turn and find the paddle floating beside my head.
“Hold the cayuco,” I shout to Angelina, pushing her near the seat. I grab the paddle.
With her little hands, Angelina holds on to the cayuco. I move fast. What I do now will save us or let us die. “Hold tight!” I shout again at Angelina as I push the paddle under the deck where it will not float away. Then I reach for the seat and pull loose the sail rope. I crawl up on the side of the cayuco. Somehow I must lift the mast from the water.
First I lean far over the side, but my weight is not enough. The sideboard is out of the water, so I crawl out on the sideboard as far as I can. This lifts the mast some from the water, but the wet sail is still too heavy.
Angelina screams louder.
“Hold on!” I keep shouting. I know I do not have very much time. I must lift the mast from the water.
As fast as I can move in the darkness, I crawl to the bottom of the mast. I pull the sail to the deck and tie it around the two sail poles. Next I grab the sail rope I have let loose. I pull it free of the mast and crawl back onto the sideboard. Now I can stand up and pull on the rope that comes from the top of the mast.
Angelina still screams and the wind gusts.
I lean back and pull with all my strength. For a moment, I do not think I can move the cayuco, but then the mast lifts slowly from the water. As it comes up, I crawl off the sideboard into the cayuco.
When the cayuco tips upright, it rolls fast, and I must jump into the water so that I am not hit by the sail pole that swings across the deck. The boat is filled with water, but it sits upright with Angelina floating inside, still holding tight to the side and screaming.
Another wave hits and almost tips us over again. I need to turn the front into the waves. I pull myself aboard and reach under the deck to find the paddle. My hand finds nothing. Another wave hits, and I lean almost into the water to keep the mast up. Again I reach under the deck. If I have lost the paddle, I cannot sail the cayuco. Still I feel nothing. I almost give up when my fingers touch the end of the handle. I hold my breath and go underwater and grab it.
With Angelina in front of me so she cannot fall out, I paddle until the front of the boat faces the next wave. Even filled with water, the sides of the cayuco are above water. The plastic bowl that we used to empty water is gone, so I scoop water out with my hands. “Help me,” I tell Angelina. “This is part of our game.” I do not think she can help very much, but it will make her less scared.
Angelina watches me, and then she splashes water from the cayuco with her hands.
I paddle to keep us straight, and then I scoop water with my hands. I paddle, then scoop water, paddle and scoop. For the next hour that is all I do. In the light of the moon, I see Angelina’s face. Fear makes her eyes shine.
Maybe it is because I am so scared, or maybe it is because I am crazy, but I start to laugh. The wind tries to quiet my voice, but I shout, “Angelina, this is our game, and we will win!”
Angelina watches me. She does not know what to think. I keep laughing and paddling and scooping. When I look at Angelina again, her face has found a smile and she splashes at the water with her hands. “Win,” she says. Her weak voice still shakes with fear. “We will win.”
“Yes!” I shout. I tighten my hands into fists and I wave them at the sky. “We will not die!” I scream. “We will live and tell the world what has happened to our village!” Yelling like this keeps tears from my eyes.
I do not know what time it is. I think maybe when things like this happen, time goes away. All that is left is this moment and the next.
When much of the water is emptied from the cayuco, I make a cup with my hand and pull water up the side. Finally the sun comes up. Both of my hands bleed, but I raise the sail again. I know that tomorrow or maybe the next day, I will leave land and sail across the Gulf of Mexico. When that time comes, I must be more ready than last night or we will die.
I make up my mind. This thing that has happened, it is not bad. During the night, the cayuco did not break. Angelina is still alive and I still have a paddle. Now I know that I must make something for Angelina so she cannot drown. I will tie everything to the cayuco so I cannot lose it, and I will be ready for winds and waves that are even stronger than these.
I see the machete in the bottom of the cayuco. This is something else I cannot lose. I pick up the machete and make another big notch in the side of the cayuco. Now there are six notches.
“Look, Angelina,” I say. I pick her up and set her on my lap. “Look at all these notches. Help me to count them.” I put my finger out and touch each notch with my finger. “One…two…three…four…five…and six.” I hug Angelina. “When there are twenty notches, I think then we will win our game and be in the United States of America.”
Angelina looks up at me. She asks me, “If not, where will we be?”
I take a deep breath. “I do not know,” I say.
19
ANGELINA’S DOLL
AS I SAIL NORTH, the shore sometimes disappears. I do not worry because I think the map shows big inlets along the Yucatán. Each day I think I sail the distance of three fingers up the map. If this is true, we will leave the Yucatán and begin crossing the Gulf of Mexico by tomorrow night.
I am very lucky I have not lost the map that is in the pocket of my shirt. Maybe next time, luck will not be so kind. The map is wet from being in the water, so I am careful when I unfold it from the plastic bag. I hold it on the hot deck to dry in the sun.
As the map dries, I stare at the shapes and try to learn every country, island, and inlet. To help me remember, I use the tip of my machete to scratch the shapes of each country into the wood deck. I trace Guatemala, Belize, the Yucatán, Cuba, and the state called Florida. I even carve the names of each in the deck. Now, when blowing wind makes it hard to look at the map, or if waves tip the cayuco and I lose the map in a storm, still I will have something I can follow. I do not want to always ask for luck.
I give Angelina a little piece of dried fish and a carrot to eat. I smell the beans. Maybe I will let them soak one more day. I eat one banana that is very black and soft. I also break open a coconut. My stomach hurts from being hungry, and chewing on coconut makes my stomach think it is eating. I save the sugarcane for Angelina because that is something she likes.
As we sail, I always look for the floating balls from a fisherman’s net. If we can eat fish again like yesterday, I think we can stay strong. Now I am glad the waves are not big because there is much to do.
Angelina helps me pull out everything we have—except the coconuts—into the sun to dry. We have little food, only the fruit, some broken stalks of sugarcane, the wet bags of beans and rice, two dried fish, and the water bottles. I look at the other things I have. There is the compass, my machete, the pail, some fishing line with no hook, three short pieces of plastic rope, the paddle, and the candy. I pull the candy from my pocket. It is melted by the water into a hard ball no bigger than the compass.
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The only thing lost during the night is the plastic bowl for emptying water and the sleeve we used to clean ourselves. I cut my shirt with the machete and tear off the other sleeve. Maybe tipping the cayuco last night has helped me. It makes me know I must be more ready when I cross the Gulf. Also the ocean water has washed away the bad smell under the deck.
With the extra plastic rope, I tie the machete and the paddle to the cayuco. It will be hard using them with small ropes tied to the deck, but I must not lose them. I have the wet bags of beans and rice hanging high on the mast to dry. The fruit I will eat only when it be comes very soft with age. I am worried that I do not have enough food to cross the Gulf. When food is wet, it does not last, and out on the ocean everything is soon wet.
When all of the food and supplies are stored back under the deck, I take the last piece of the plastic rope left from the river of garbage, and I tie it around Angelina’s chest. To this loop of rope, I tie two empty water bottles. Now Angelina can pull the loop around her chest when the weather is bad. I will make her sleep with the bottles at night, too. The empty bottles will float and keep her alive if the cayuco tips over again.
When everything is ready, I try to sleep some in the hot sun. My hat is wet and crushed, and it hangs over my head like a rag. It is hard to sleep when I must sit up and also watch the ocean. I worry each moment that something bad will happen. The waves come from the west, and I lean against the paddle to keep the cayuco sailing north. Big wet blisters cover my hands.
As I sail, the shore appears and then disappears again. Late in the day, more garbage floats past the cayuco. I think it is a habit that I have—I look for anything that floats. Today there are only pieces of wood and broken plastic bottles. I find one plastic bottle I can cut and use to empty water.
The sun is almost touching the water when something small and dark floats toward the cayuco. It is nothing I can use, only a little plastic doll that is brown from the sun and water. It has no hair, one arm is missing, and the body is broken almost in half.
But then I look at Angelina staring at the floor. I turn the cayuco very fast so I can grab the doll from the water. “Here, Angelina,” I say, giving her the doll.
Angelina takes the doll and stares at it.
“I think the doll is hurt and needs a friend,” I say. “Will you help her?”
Angelina turns the doll in her hands and nods. “I think the doll is very hungry,” she says.
I open the bottle that soaks the beans, and I take out one bean. “Dolls do not eat very much,” I say.
Angelina takes the bean and pushes it into the mouth of the plastic doll. “One is okay,” she tells me with a strong voice. “She will not make the coconuts dirty.”
With the machete, I chip a small piece of candy loose. I hold out the little piece. “Does your doll like candy?” I ask.
Angelina grabs the candy and pushes it fast into her own mouth. “No, dolls do not like candy,” she says.
I see a piece of palm leaf in the water and grab it. “Maybe you should make the doll a hat,” I say.
Angelina nods and takes the palm from my hand.
I smile and try to sleep a little more. Angelina holds her doll and works to make a little hat.
The sun is now gone. I know from the map there is one more big island I will sail past during the night or tomorrow. I hope that I will find more fishnets near the island. Before Angelina lies down to sleep, I tell her, “Angelina, you must sleep with the empty bottles around your chest.”
Obediently, she pushes her feet through the loop and pulls it up around her chest. I know the bottles will not be comfortable. I watch Angelina until I think she is asleep, then I, too, let my eyes close to steal sleep from the night.
I wake often as the night begins. The moon has grown each night since we left. Once, when I open my eyes, I find Angelina awake holding the doll in her arms, rocking it and talking to it. I feed her another carrot. I do not think the beans smell very good, but still I eat some. I take one bean and give it to Angelina for her doll. “How is your doll?” I ask.
“I talked to my doll tonight,” Angelina says.
“Does your doll talk to you?” I ask.
When Angelina speaks, she whispers. “My doll tells me her family is dead. She tells me she is very scared. Her body hurts and she is lonely.”
“She tells you all those things?” I ask.
Angelina nods.
“Does your doll have a name?”
“Maria,” she says.
“Is Maria tired?” I ask.
Angelina yawns. “It is dark and she is very tired.”
“Maybe you should sleep with her so she will not be lonely,” I say.
Angelina hugs the doll and moves the petate around on the coconuts. It is hard for her to be comfortable sleeping on coconuts with two plastic bottles around her chest. “I will sleep with Maria,” she says. “Good night.”
“Good night,” I say.
“Say good night to Maria,” Angelina tells me.
“Good night, Maria,” I say.
When Angelina closes her eyes, I begin another long night. As I sail, I watch Angelina sleep. Tonight she does not cry. The light from the shining moon lets me watch her. Both of her arms wrap around the doll, and the look on her face makes me think that her dreams are good dreams.
It is good that I have found Angelina the doll. If I want Angelina to make it to the United States of America, I will need to take very good care of that doll.
20
THE LAST LAND
ONLY A SHORT TIME after I eat the beans, my stomach cramps again and I must sit back over the back of the boat. I stay there a long time until my stomach does not hurt and until there are no more beans left inside me. Angelina does not wake up, but if she does I will tell her I am feeding the fish.
After I use the sleeve to clean myself, I sit back in the seat and make up my mind. I cannot eat the beans if they give me diarrhea and do not make me strong. I understand now why the women in our village cooked beans for a very long time. They did not want to kill their families. Tomorrow I will throw away the soaked beans.
Tonight the waves are only small hills that lift me gently when they pass. The breeze is weak but keeps my sail filled. I wedge the paddle in the notch and sail without holding the paddle.
When the ocean is this way, I do not feel I am moving very fast, but I know the current that hides below me always pushes to the north. Enrique told me that when I leave the Yucatán, this current will separate like two roads, one that flows east and one west. I will sail east.
I think about this to help the hours pass. I also sleep, but not hard. Thoughts drift through my head like a breeze that comes and goes. I know it is never safe to sleep long. But I must sleep, and I think it is better now when the ocean also rests.
Just before the morning comes, small lights flicker far away to my right. I see the lights long before the cayuco carries me close enough to see the land. I think this is the big island the map shows me at the north end of the Yucatán. After this island, I will soon leave all land behind me to cross the Gulf. I pull in the sail a little so the wind will take me closer to shore where I can look for fishing nets.
Again, this morning, luck rides with me in the cayuco. The sun is still below the water when I see a long line of floating balls on the ocean. I lean against the paddle and steer to one of the balls. As I pull close to the net, I watch the shore. I think a fisherman will be very angry if he learns that I steal his fish.
It is wrong for me to steal fish. Mother and Father would also be very angry to know their son, Santiago, steals something that is not his. But I know the fish will save my life. I have no money, I cannot ask permission, and I need to feed Angelina. What else can I do?
This morning, I find three fish in the net. The big fish are still alive. One I throw in the bottom of the cayuco. I will cut it up and eat it when Angelina is awake. The other two, I tie a rope through their mouths and let them drag behi
nd the cayuco. Maybe they will still be good to eat tomorrow.
North of me on the shore, there are the buildings and houses of a big city. Also many white sailing boats float near the island. I do not want to be seen, so I sail away from shore. When the island is only a thin shadow on the water, I let the sail swing wide and I keep sailing north. By now the morning sun is high above the water. Angelina still sleeps with the doll in her arms. She sleeps until the heat comes to the sky like air blowing from a forest that burns. When she wakes up, I try to make her laugh. “Angelina,” I say. “Do you want more beans for breakfast?”
Angelina does not speak or laugh. She sticks her tongue out and wrinkles her face until her eyes close.
I laugh. “Okay, I will throw them away,” I say. I take the beans that are soaked and throw them into the ocean.
“I hope the beans do not kill the fish,” Angelina says.
I rinse the bottle, and this time I soak rice. I hope the rice will taste better and stay in our stomachs. I do not throw away the dry beans still tied in the bag. Maybe they will help me kill pirates.
“Okay, I think we should eat something different,” I tell Angelina. “I think we will eat fresh fish.” I reach down and lift the fish from the bottom of the cayuco. “Oh, look,” I say. “Where did this fish come from?”
Angelina shrugs.
“Did you catch it during the night?”
Angelina thinks. “Maybe I did,” she says.
“Maybe it jumped into the boat when we slept because it knew that Angelina was hungry,” I say, pulling out the machete.
I know the fish will not stay good in the hot sun, so we eat the raw meat until our stomachs are round. When we finish, I make another notch in the cayuco. Now there are seven notches, and I am very proud of each one. Each is a battle that I have won. I wonder how many more notches the ocean will let me make. I pull out the map and stare for a long time, then I look around me. The big island to my right is already far away and behind me. If I am right, before dark, the mainland will also disappear for the last time to the west. This moment excites me and also scares me.