 Domingo's Dream
Domingo crouched low in the weeds, the water of the Rio Grande lapping at his ankles. Had his mother been there, she would be scolding him for getting his shoes all wet. But she was not. She was a many day's walk to the south; worried sick for the son she knew had run away to the north.
Domingo knew it would be daylight soon, the roosters from the nearby farm were just starting to crow. He must cross the river before daybreak or the gringo Federales would surely catch him.
He shivered; not from the cold, but from fear. Fear of the Federales, the Border Patrol. The strange English words echoed in his mind. He had listened as men told their stories of swimming the Big River and making lots of money. They had spoken of the Border Patrol who must not catch you. Or you would come back to Mexico without money, a failure.
"I must not fail," Domingo thought, "I must get money". Money for grandma, whose legs didn't work and needed to see a doctor. Money for baby sister, whose cough never went away. Money for food. Food to stop the gnawing hungers, the hunger that never stopped. Except when you were asleep, and, when you woke, the hunger was still there. It was always there. Just as the first, faint pink shade appeared in the sky, Domingo plunged into the river. It was not cold at all. Domingo loved the water. At home, he swam whenever he could in the creek near his uncle's home. He was a strong swimmer and he was on the other side very quickly. It was called the Big River, but it really wasn't.
He crawled out of the water, very wet and very proud. He was in the Estados Unidos, he was in the United States. He would get a job, get lots of money and go back to his barrio, his neighborhood, with a big truck full of food. Nobody would ever be hungry again when Domingo got there with his truck.
Suddenly, a shaft of bright light cut across Domingo's path through the low brush and came to rest on his face, blinding him.
"Freeze, wetback," said a voice behind the light, "just don't move. Lookahere, Ned, we got a little one this time."
Another light swept Domingo's face as a second voice said, "Federal officers of the Immigration and Naturalization Service. You are hereby detained until your legal right to remain in this country can be determined."
Domingo didn't understand a word. But he knew he had been caught. He had failed. The lights dropped from his face and strong hands clamped themselves on both his arms and began to lead him through the brush. As it grew lighter, Domingo could see that his captors; two big, uniformed Norteamericanos, both carrying guns, were leading him toward a pale green passenger truck parked in the brush some distance away. On the door of the truck was a large blue circle with gold lettering . He couldn't read the words, but he didn't need to. Police cars always looked the same. He began to cry, softly, to himself. All his plans were turning into dust.
As they neared the patrol truck, one officer released him and began to walk around the front to the driver's door and opened it. He got inside the truck and reached through to release the lock on the passenger door. Suddenly a voice, rough and electric, came out of the truck: "...Request immediate backup, we have spotted 4 or 5 Hispanic males moving rafts across the river. They appear armed with automatic weapons. Kennedy, Sorenson request immediate backup. On the double..."
Domingo could sense the tension in the new voice, even though he didn't understand the words. The hand on his arm was almost not there as the second officer leaned toward the truck to better hear what the radio was saying. Domingo didn't have the slightest idea what was happening, but he knew he had a chance to escape. He wriggled out of the hand and started running for all he was worth. The agent felt him slip out of his grip and swore softly as he saw the youngster run away. But armed drug-runners were much more important to capture than wetbacks. He jumped into the truck as it roared into life. Dust spun from the wheels as they sped off toward their fellow officers. When you called for back up, you got back -up.
Domingo ran and ran and ran. He ran faster and harder than he did the time his older brother chased him with the dead rattlesnake. He ran until he could not breathe. He collapsed against a mesquite tree and just lay there against it, gulping in air. Little by little, his breath came back to him. Domingo remembered how his mother was always reminding him that he had an angel watching over him, keeping him from harm. Domingo thanked the angel and pushed himself off the tree.
It was full daylight now and Domingo could see cars moving on a small road several hundred yards away, through the scrub. He moved quickly and silently through the low trees, keeping an eye out for pale green trucks with big blue circles on the door. He said a little prayer to his angel to help him be watchful and walked out onto the shoulder of the road.
Now, thought Domingo, it is time to find work. He would do anything, anything at all, to make money. He was a good worker and a hard worker. What he wanted to find most of all was somebody who would give him a chance to show what he could do. And pay him some dinero, some money, to do it.
So, Domingo plodded on down the dusty little south Texas road, looking for work. Cars and trucks whizzed by him and paid him little, if any, notice. Once, he had to jump out of the way of a large green tractor pulling an even larger machine behind it. The driver of the tractor yelled at him to watch where he was walking or he would be hurt.
Domingo yelled back at him that his angel wouldn't let him get hurt, because he had to be strong to get money to take back to Mexico. The driver just shook his head and kept pulling the huge disc harrow down the road.
A little further along, Domingo saw an old man working with a hoe in a large, well-kept field. When he got near to the man, he called out, "Tell me, senor, do you have work for me?"
The old one straightened slowly from his weed-tending and, glad for the break in his monotonous routine, said, "Yes, my son, I have much work. I can give you work from sunrise to sunset. But I can give you no money. My padron will not give money to a boy who cannot work as hard or as long as a grown man."
"I can work very hard, sir," said Domingo, "because I must earn money to buy a truck-load of food to take back to my family."
"My son," asked the man, "did you swim the Rio Grande to come and find work
"Yes, sir."
"Many years ago I swam the river to make much money in the land of the gringos. And I work hard and I work long. So does my wife, who does sewing. Together we make only enough to live. We have no truck, only a little house and a little food."
"But are there no rich people who will pay you much money for work?"
"If you can find them, nino, and if they will give you much money for work, perhaps. But I do not know where they are."
"My angel will help me find them," Domingo said, "my angel always helps me."
"Buena suerte," said the old man, "good luck," as he went back to his weeds. Once again, Domingo walked. He stopped several more times and asked his questions about work. He always got the same answer: "Yes, there is work. No, there is no money."
Slowly, it began to dawn on him that he was in the wrong place. Farms and ranches did not have money. But he knew where the money was. It must be in the cities, where the rich people were. Domingo knew he had to find such a city.
And the longer he walked, the more his old friend hunger walked with him. Domingo knew many tricks to forget his old friend and one by one he used them up. And, of course, hunger had brought his wife, thirst, with him. Thirst was much harder to forget than hunger.
By now, Domingo had come to the outskirts of a town. There were more and more buildings and less and less open land. Hunger's wife was really pushing him now. Pushing him so hard that he jumped a small fence into a yard where a hose was running on some flowers. He grabbed the hose and drank and drank and drank. It was running quite slowly and it took a long time to forget hunger's wife.
"Pretty thirsty, huh, wetback?" said a voice over him. Domingo looked up slowly to see a big teen-age boy with slicked-back hair and sunglasses. "Stand up," he said.
Domingo did as he was told. The teen-ager moved directly in front of him and gazed down at him coolly. Not knowing anything else to say, Domingo asked him where he could find work. The older boy laughed and said, "Not in my grandmother's yard, mojado," his lips curling around the word for wetback, "and probably not anywhere else. There are lots of people who live here who want work. And they don't like you coming over the river and trying to get the jobs they want. Best thing you can do is to go get your back wet again and go home. All you're gonna find here is trouble. Now, beat it!"
Domingo moved to climb back over the fence. The older boy grabbed him by the shoulder, saying, "Not that way," and pointing to the front gate, "use the gate, and go home."
Domingo ran to the gate, flung it open and was once again walking down the road. He wasn't any closer to his dream, but, at least, he wasn't thirsty anymore. But he was hungry, very hungry. Soon, he came to a small store, surrounded by shiny Americano cars and trucks. Domingo thought they were very beautiful; especially one bright blue pick-up, whose driver was just getting back inside. Domingo went up to the driver and asked him where he could buy such a truck. The man looked at him and, with a laugh, said, "San Trejos Motors, use your credit card to make the down payment," and slammed the door in his face. The pick-up roared into life and sprang backward, tires squealing, almost knocking Domingo to the ground.
Domingo thanked his angel for protecting him once again. He went into the store. There was a young girl behind the counter. He went over to her and asked if he could buy something to eat.
"What would you like?" she asked, motioning with her hand toward the many display racks of food in the store.
Domingo looked around at the many different kinds of food. Most of the packages were a mystery to him, as their labels were written in English.
"I want papitas," ha said to her, "potato chips."
"Over there," she said, pointing to a rack full of large shiny bags.
Domingo went to the rack and took down a bag full of cheese puffs. Then he went back to the counter and laid it down. He pulled a large, brass 10 peso coin, his entire life's savings, worth about 35 cents in American money, and put it next to the bag.
"Sorry, little one," the girl said, "we don't take pesos."
Domingo didn't know what to do, except to tell her that the coin was all the money he had. And also that he was very hungry.
The girl reached under the counter and pulled out something wrapped in foil. "This is a taco from yesterday," she said, " I don't think anyone will miss it. Take it and go. I don't want my boss to find you here."
Domingo said gracias and went back outside. He unwrapped the taco and ate it very quickly. It was cold, the tortilla was hard, but, at least, it filled him up and he could forget his old friend hunger for awhile.
Domingo spent the rest of the day searching for work. He might as well have been searching for the Lost City of El Dorado. The only thing he found were people who said "No, no" and "Go away".
The sun was starting to go down. He was very tired and his companion hunger was demanding loudly that Domingo remember him again. He came to another market with several trashcans in front of it. One of them didn't have a lid and Domingo dug into it. It was not the first time he had dug into a trashcan for food. He found some stale donuts. As he was pulling them out, the door to the market opened and, once again, he heard the now very familiar "Go away."
He kept on. It was getting quite dark. He found himself by a risaca, a small lake. There were several large bushes next to it with grass growing underneath them. He lay down on the grass. He wondered to himself, where was the work? No one has any job for me. Had the men who crossed the river before him been telling the truth? How could they find work when he could find none. He was confused and he was very sad.
Had his angel forgotten him? Where was she now when he needed her most?
Would he ever make some money? Without money, there would be no truck full of food for his family and his neighbors. His dream would fail. He began to cry softly to himself. And as the tears slid down his cheeks, Domingo slid into sleep. At least in sleep, he could have his dream.
Domingo found himself in front of a great cathedral. It glowed with light and it was very beautiful. He went through the ornately carved front door and stood at the beginning of a long walkway leading to a large candle-lit altar. The interior of the cathedral was filled with a soft golden light. He could make out several robed figures standing in front of the altar. One of them, clothed in white, turned toward him and Domingo heard, in his soul rather than with his ears, a summons: "Come unto me, little one."
He began to walk down the aisle with a tread so light that he almost felt as if he were floating. As he approached the altar, he saw that there were two ladies, both clothed in white, standing before him. One was facing him and the other was turned toward the altar, her head bent in adoration. The one facing him had a look of great compassion and her face was suffused with a golden glow. She spoke to him with a soft, sweet voice that echoed in his soul, "
There is no need for sorrow, little one, for one as courageous and pure as you cannot but succeed in your quest. Thou shalt have thy dream."
Domingo knew without asking that this was his angel. He dropped to his knees and bent his head in prayer. He felt a hand being laid gently on his head and he felt, in the depths of his being, the light of his angel flowing through him. He raised his head to see that the other lady had also turned toward him. Her face also shone with light and love. Domingo knew her also, for hers was the face of the Blessed Virgin, which he had seen many times before . . .
Suddenly, Domingo was jerked from sleep by a loud crashing noise. He didn't know where he was, most of him was still in his dream. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. What had happened? Where was his angel?
He heard screams, which he didn't understand, but he could feel the urgency in the voice. He jumped to his feet and ran toward the screams. In the darkness, he could just barely make out a lady laying on the ground on the bank of the risaca, screaming and shaking her hands toward the water.
He looked out into the water and saw a car was sinking slowly into it. Domingo knew that she was not screaming for herself but for something in the car. He plunged into the water and swam for the car. As he came to it, he could only barely see a small baby trapped inside the car, its head and shoulders sticking out of the water. Domingo reached through the open car window and released the baby from the small seat, which had trapped it. He pulled it out and went to swim to shore.
But he couldn't move. His pant leg had caught on something on the car. He was being pulled under with the car. He put the baby on top of the car and yanked at his pants, trying to free himself.
Domingo was suddenly aware of bright lights coming from the bank, and then the water went over his head and he saw only blackness.
Once again, Domingo found himself in the golden cathedral with his angel and the Virgin Mary. He knew that he must have drowned. But how could he have his dream if he was in heaven.
"Fear not, little one," he felt the angel say, "you are not dead, only dreaming. But your dream is your destiny. You will succeed, for you follow the way of the Savior, you place the welfare of others before your own."
Domingo woke slowly, his head spinning. He was not in the cathedral in heaven, but in bed in a room full of strange and wonderful things. A lady was bending over him, a lady dressed all in white. She looked like his angel, for her face had the same devoted compassion in it.
"Are we still in heaven, angel?" he asked her.
"No, nino, we are in the hospital. And I'm not an angel, I'm a nurse.
You almost drowned saving a baby's life. If the police hadn't gotten there when they did and revived you, you would surely be with the angels."
Slowly, Domingo began to separate his dream from what had happened to him. He remembered the crash, and the screaming lady and pulling the baby from the car. The door to the room opened and another lady entered. She, too, was dressed in a white gown and there were white bandages on her head and arm. As she neared the bed, Domingo could see that she was not Mexican, as were most of the people he had met since swimming the river. Instead, she was a white lady.
"Is this the one, nurse?" the Anglo lady spoke, "is this the boy that saved my baby's life?"
"Ma'am, you shouldn't be here," answered the nurse, "you have been injured and you should be in bed. Yes, this is the boy."
The white lady walked over to Domingo's bed and put her hand on his forehead. "I don't know who you are or how you came to be there by the risaca. But it must surely be Providence and you have my eternal gratitude, young man."
Domingo did not understand her words, but he felt her warmth and her gratitude. He could only gaze at her blankly, for he did not know how to answer.
"I don't believe that he speaks English, ma'am," said the nurse, who then translated the lady's words to Domingo.
Domingo smiled softly and he reached up to take the lady's hand and he said, "Your baby must have an angel watching out for him just like I do."
The nurse repeated Domingo's words in English to the lady and a small tear began to slide down the lady's cheek. "Please, nurse, ask him who he is and what can I ever do to repay him," he said.
The nurse asked him the lady's question. Domingo thought for a moment and then told his story of coming to America to find work to make money for his family and his village. He spoke of his dream and his angel and his disappointment that he could find no work and would make no money, and that now the Federales would surely send him back to Mexico.
"He is a wet...an illegal alien, ma'am," said the nurse, who went on to repeat Domingo's words.
When she had finished, the white lady spoke passionately, "You tell this boy that he most assuredly will not be just sent back to Mexico. I will see to that. I will sponsor him or whatever he wants..." She trailed off and was lost in thought for several minutes."
"Tell him, please, nurse," said the lady, after a long silence, "that my husband, is the pastor of the Church of the Good Shepherd here in San Trejos. I have been discussing having our church sponsor a family in Mexico and it looks as though the Lord has brought one to us. Tell him that we will take up a collection of food, clothes, medicine, money, and whatever else we can get. When he and I are both well enough to travel, we will load all of it in my husband's pick-up and drive it down to his village."
Now it was the nurse's turn be moved. The lady was going to fulfill the boy's dream and it was almost as if the Savior himself had guided them to be together. "You are very kind and generous, senora, and I know that you are going to make this nino very happy," she said, lapsing into Spanish with her own happiness.
As the nurse spoke the lady's words to Domingo, a great big beaming smile broke out on his face and he reached up for the lady's hand and kissed it. His dream was real. He had succeeded just when he thought that all was lost.
The lady bent down and kissed Domingo on the forehead and as she stood back up, she sagged a little. The nurse caught her by the shoulders and said, "You really should get some rest, senora, you have been through much."
"You are right, of course, nurse, I must get well and he must get well. But, one more thing, ask him what his name is, please."
"His name is Domingo, it means Sunday in English," answered the nurse.
"Sunday, hmmm, the Lord's day. That is somehow very fitting," said the Lady, "tell him that the first Sunday that he and I are both well that we will go to our church and tell everybody about the great miracle that has happened."
The nurse turned to Domingo to tell him, but he had fallen fast asleep. The nurse put her arm around the lady to support her and led her out the door. Domingo, of course, was dreaming. But this time, his dream was more than just a dream of hope.
This time, it was a dream becoming real. --Gardner Reynolds
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