Falling With Grace

Who is she?

The older woman wore a colorful T-shirt and well-worn blue jeans, faded at the knees. A pale scar ran from the outer corner of her eye to her earlobe.

Jorge’s scar, which ran above his brow, flashed in my mind, and my hands flew to my pockets.

His rosary.

“Where is it?”

My eyes burned as his face flashed in my mind, the terror in his eyes when he crumbled to hisknees…

I released her wrist and moved to sit, my right arm pinned to my belly by a Velcro brace.

“Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

I glanced around my makeshift bed, the clothes I’d worn for three years missing from my body. Someone had dressed me in a large t-shirt with white sweats tied at the waist.

“My rosary. Where did you put it?”

“Oh.” She helped me sit straight. “I removed your clothing so the doctor could examine you.” She reached for a small wooden drawer in the nightstand and pulled out the white rosary with a crucifix at the end. “Your fingers were purple when he reset your shoulder.”

I hunched over, my head swimming, and my vision danced in a field of bright pinpricks of light as I held the only thing I had left of Jorge.

“Careful.” She placed her hand on my good shoulder and steadied my swaying body. “You took a bad beating to the head, and your rib was broken.”

My toes brushed the watered-down brown tiled floor, resembling terracotta, the cuts on my feet stretching with the burden of my weight.

I hissed, then rubbed the burn from my eyes with the heel of my scraped palms.

“Who are you running from?”

The man’s accented voice grew louder outside the door, and my heart stalled.

“Where am I?”

“Piedras Negras.”

Mexico? I was still in Mexico even though I had crossed the river?

HadI crossed the river?

I pushed to my feet, and my knee gave out. The sharp pain, coupled with a tight, stiff brace around it, had the older woman catching me.

Her hands wrapped around my good arm, steadying me.

I bit my lip, stifling my cries as throbbing aches and pains radiated throughout my battered body.

“You must rest.”

“I need to get out of here.”

“You’re American?”

I nodded and gulped.

“We can take you to the border crossing when you’re healed. Eagle Pass. It’s right over the bridge.”