The Only Road Read Free

It was bad luck to cry or make a scene at a child’s funeral. The spirit would then get confused, thinking he needed to stay on earth, instead of making his ascent straight into God’s arms, where he belonged. Mamá stayed with her sister at the house, partly to keep Tía company, partly because Miguel had been like her son too.
    Jaime’s papá and tíos carried the coffin on their shoulders toward the cemetery through the unpaved village streets, where houses had once been painted white but now stood dark gray with crud and grime. Ángela clung to Jaime’s arm and together they walked after the coffin. Even with all the family around him, Jaime felt alone, as if a part of him were missing. It must have been worse for Ángela. She hadn’t said a word since she had heard the news.
    It should have been my funeral , Jaime thought. Between the two of them, Miguel should have been the one to live.
    Jaime sniffed hard. He couldn’t cry. He mustn’t. The fate of Miguel’s spirit depended on it. Next to Jaime, with her eyes squeezed tight, Ángela let him guide her through the quiet streets. For his cousins, living and not, he had to be strong.
    At the cemetery Padre Lorenzo said words Jaime only heard in bits: “chosen by God,” “at peace,” “loved by all.”None of them even began to describe Miguel—he was so much more.
    The coffin was lowered into the grave. Along with the rest of the family, Jaime and Ángela each kissed a handful of dirt before throwing it into the hole. Then holy water was sprinkled on top to keep evil spirits away.
    Only it didn’t work to keep away the Alphas.
    A group of gang members stood on top of the hill overlooking the cemetery. Jaime could just make out Pulguita’s scrawny frame in the front line. He wanted to run up there and punch every one of them until they felt the same pain in their hearts he was feeling, and the same pain Miguel endured while they hit him.
    Tío Daniel must have felt as Jaime did. When the priest said the last prayer, Tío Daniel’s balding head jerked up to the hill, his nose twitching as if he could smell the Alphas’ foul scent. He sprinted halfway up before Papá and two other uncles caught and restrained him.
    â€œMy son!” Tío Daniel shouted as he fought against the arms holding him back. “Give me back my son!”
    The men half lifted, half dragged the resisting Tío Daniel back to the churchyard. The Alphas watched the men’s retreat like sinister statues guarding a crypt. Not one of them moved. Except their eyes.
    A violent shiver coursed through Jaime’s body. They were watching him.
    Next to him, Ángela jerked and quivered. Jaime knew she could feel the Alphas’ eyes on her, too.
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    They were right. The Alphas had been watching them.
    The next evening, Papá had just come home from work at the chocolate plantation and Mamá was ironing when the front door burst open. Tía Rosario leaned against the cinder-block wall, dark hair covering her face, and gasped to catch her breath.
    â€œCome. Quick. All of you.” And then she dashed away.
    Mamá unplugged the iron as Papá pulled on his shoes. Panic shot through Jaime as he and his parents ran down to Tía’s house. Why is God punishing us?
    It normally took ten minutes to walk there. Today, because they were running, even Mamá with her limp, it took four. But it felt like forty.
    A breath he didn’t know he was holding escaped his lips at the sight of Ángela. Nothing had happened to her. Yet. He knew from the hopeless look on her face the “yet” was still to come. She stood in the kitchen, arms crossed over her chest, next to the boxy television with her back slumped against the wall. Jaime inhaled deeply to catch his breath and calm down. He reached for his cousin and held her hand like she had held his at the funeral.