Victor Gonzalez Ruiz

La Virgen y el Búho

“Be still.” Whispers Juanita to her nine-year-old son, Renato. “Hold your breath or they’ll catch us”. The border patrols scan their luminous headlights out into the cold dusk air. Juanita grabs Renato’s hand as she adjusts her two-year-old daughter, Camila, who is wrapped in her serape and held close to her chest. The officers laugh and yell broken Spanish profanity as they step out and walk in the opposite direction. She takes the chance and makes a run for it. Renato is struggling to run because of the gallon of water he is carrying. She has to make a rash decision. “Drop it mijo”, she tells him. He understands the reason and drops the jug of water. The drop of the jug was louder than expected and the patrol officers quickly react and jump in the patrol truck. It becomes a chase. Juanita is sweating and decides to hide behind large boulders. The officers pull up next to them. “I saw shadows running this way.” says one of the officers as he walks near the boulder. Renato’s little hand is beside the officer’s boot. He retracts it back into the shadows. Camila makes a cry and the patrols jump their way when out of the velvet dark sky, sharp talons pierce through and a gust of wind charges at the officers. One of the officers gets sliced right on the cheek- the second officer start shooting his gun into the abyss. The bullet casings hit the ground. Juanita grabs Renato, leaving all luggage behind and makes a run towards the hills. Renato looks back as the illumination from the headlights paint his face with the moving shadows of a valiant creature that fights for their honor.