Denial of the Heart

I clicked on the radio, but all we heard was silence.

“There hasn’t been a local signal since the June 6th riots, Mateo.” Said Robert Redford while looking out the windshield on the vast empty road.

We were driving together in this run-down 2022 Toyota Prius. The heat from the sun cooked us inside of this mobile and fuel-efficient oven. We were sweating and thirsty, but we had to ration our water. So, we simply licked our crusty lips and endured.

“You never know when the radio will pick up a signal,” I said to Robert.

The truth is, I just wished we would pick up something. . . anything, the silence is deafening. You quickly get sick of the light buzz of the car engine and the hilly yellow and brown scenery when you have been driving across California deserts for five years.

“Well, don’t get your hopes up, Mateo, society is not as organized as it used to be,” Robert said reluctantly.

My mind wandered as I brushed my dusty thumb over my locket. It was a fingernail-sized, ruby red, heart-shaped locket with two silver bands running in an X shape over the top of it. The locket had a picture of my wife, Julie, and my two children, Maria, and Juan. Julie gave it to me on our 2018 Mexico family vacation. It was a cheap getaway that I could take them on; we haven’t done anything as a family for a while. While driving, we heard a loud “pop-pop-pop!” Followed by a prolonged sputter as the engine died.

“Damnit!” Robert cried, slamming his large hands on the steering wheel. “Why now! We are 20 miles from the Phoenix checkpoint.”

It has taken us five years to get from San Diego to Phoenix because fuel has become such a scarce commodity. The last time we saw a working gas station was back in Campo, California, and it cost $19/gallon! Now we had to find a place to stay until we could discover some gas. We made it to a town called Tonopah, which was a rural farming town.

“Look!” Robert pointed to a sign that read “El Dorado Hot Springs.” “Aren’t you trying to get a town called El Dorado?”

“That’s El Dorado, Nebraska, not El Dorado Hot Springs!” I rebuked.

Before my family was split up at the San Diego border, we planned to travel to El Dorado, Nebraska, to make a new life for ourselves. It is a tiny farming town close to Lincoln. The idea was to take advantage of the low population density, high fertility, and established infrastructure to develop a self-sustaining family home. Rumor had it that the Central States of America was still organized and governed by the United States government.

“Anyways, it looks like it may be a good place to spend the night; it looks pretty empty.” Said, Robert.

I had to agree with him. It was an old, abandoned tourist trap with fountains and chicken coops, but it also looked like it may have some furnished rooms and supplies. We opened the brittle wooden door to the main house, and it was a wreck. The wallpaper was all torn up, mold has overtaken the plumbing, and rotten food filled the fridge.

“Looks better than the last place, right Mateo?” Said, Robert.

“I can’t argue with that,” I said, chuckling.

We spent the night in this shack, but we did not get a good night’s rest. Around 2 AM, we heard thumping on the door.

“Thump thump thump!”

“Who, or what is out there?” Whispered Robert.

“It’s the F.U.S.C [Federal United States Checkpoint], Phoenix battalion.” Said the knocker. “We are patrolling the area and found an abandoned vehicle here. We need you to come in for questioning.”

“Well, I guess you have your answer now.” I groaned to Robert.

We came out slowly to the moonlit porch and saw two large armed guards holding flashlights.

“I told you we’d find somebody in there.” Said the guard on the left.

“Alright, Curry.” The guard to the right said to the guard to the left. “Listen, my name is Officer Pence, and this is my partner, Officer Curry. We are tasked with protecting the area from rioters and looters; you wouldn’t happen to be in that sort of ilk, would you?”

“No sir, quite the opposite! I am just looking for my family; we were separated at the border during the June 6th riots.” I spoke.

The two guards looked shaken when they heard “June 6th” mentioned. They looked at each other for a second and then back to us.

“We are going to have to bring you in for further questioning.” Said Officer Curry.

Feeling like we had no other choice, Robert and I reluctantly agreed. So, we went into their fancy 2025 Chevy Tahoe and traveled to the Phoenix checkpoint.

“Well, this is one way to get into Phoenix, I guess,” I said to Robert.

It was night, so I did not see very much. Though, I knew we were there by the bright white lights overlooking a short, barbed-wire wall. We parked the car in an oversized garage. The officer placed cold handcuffs on our wrists. The tension pinched my skin just below my wrist joint, and I could feel my circulation being cut off.

“Come with us.” Said Officer Curry.

We followed them through the cold concrete hallways. It seemed like a never-ending chamber of well-lit empty cells. We approached a door labeled “13,” and Curry said, “this is where we will be questioning you.”

We sat on two small stools under a rectangular steel table. An overhead light lit the square room. Just left of the door, we could see a large mirror taking up most of the wall. Officer Curry and Officer Pence sat in the chairs across from us and opened a small notebook.

“So, you say you were there during the June 6th riots?” Pence softly asked us.

Yes,” I calmly replied, “but only as victims! My family and I were trying to escape the riot before they took control of San Diego. We saw that there was no hope for government law and order, so we decided to retreat to a safer location.”

“Oh? And where were you and your family planning to go?” Pence quietly asked.

“El Dorado, Nebraska, sir,” I replied.

The guards looked at each other and seemed concerned for some reason. I didn’t understand why they were so insistent on questioning me, while Robert seemed ignored. I looked at Robert to see if he thought the same thing, but he just seemed a bit relieved.

“What is your name?” Officer Curry asked me.

“Mateo Herman Torrez, sir,” I said.

The guards had a shocked look on their faces when I said my last name. They whispered something to each other, and then Pence glared sharply at Curry.

“Excuse me, Richter, I believe I need to speak to these gentlemen in private.” Officer Curry said informally to Officer Pence.

Pence looked disgruntled, though he appeared outranked in this circumstance. He left the room. All we could smell was body odor; it seemed that it was coming from Curry.

“Listen carefully, Mr. Torrez, your family, were victims of a tragic accident.” Officer Curry said somberly.

My heart sank. I had no idea what Curry was talking about.

“At the border. . . things got out of control. Your family ended up in exit D. I remember the name. Torrez.”

Curry’s words cut like a sharp knife. The air in the room felt stale, and every second of silence was like an eternity.

“We thought. . . THEY thought, there were rioters in exit D. We don’t know for sure, but none of them made it out alive.” Curry said anxiously.

Robert looked furious; he glanced at me with pitiful eyes and then shot a hateful glare at Curry.

“You killed them?” I said quietly. You killed them!”

“Please understand, it was an accident! I was not even present when it took place.” Curry pleaded.

“What happened?” I growled.

“It was not protocol; I can tell you that much. Accidents happen; it was not a choice made from head office.” Curry petitioned.

“What are you hiding!” Robert demanded.

Before things got too out of hand, Officer Pence entered the room.

“Excuse me, I would like to know a little bit more about what happened from your point of view,” Pence said calmly.

I calmed down. Something about Officer Pence’s composure, or his eyes, they were so reassuring.

“Well, I remember the smoke; it was intoxicating.” I began. “The cries of families merged with the chants of the rioters. Looters destroyed our home as we barely escaped to our car. We entered the checkpoint, and there were so many people. My family ended up at the wrong gate, but we couldn’t sort it out with the guards. I lost them. I went through alone.”

Officer Pence looked at Curry and said, “I think you have some paperwork to file now, Officer Curry.”

Curry nodded and left to file what I presume was our paperwork.

“Allow me to let you in on a state secret Mr. Torrez.” Officer Pence began. “Your family was separated; however, they were not with that awful mob in gate D. Officer Curry is a stuffy pencil pusher, and he wasn’t on the ground when it happened. I found a group of victims, and we gathered a covert truck to bring people safely across the border under the cover of darkness. Your family, they made it on that truck.”

My eyes lit up at his words; his reassurance gave me peace and, more importantly, hope.

“You mean they are alive?” I asked.

“That is exactly what I mean.” Replied Officer Pence.

“That’s a load of crap! Don’t listen to him, Mateo; he’s lying.” Said, Robert.

“At least his story makes sense, Robert! Officer Pence was on the ground when it happened.” I spoke.

Curry returned to the room, and both Robert and I looked spitefully at the wicked man.

“They just need your signature, Pence,” Curry said.

Pence exited the room, and now it was just Robert and me alone with Curry. It seemed like he did not know that Pence told us the truth. Robert is a big man and often uses that to his advantage. Without a second thought, he lunged at Curry and trapped his neck between his arm and the wall. Choking him, Robert demanded, “where is the Torrez family?”

Curry choked as he said, “They. . . they, are, dead.”

“Prove it! Officer Pence told us they escaped. Why should we believe you?” Robert requested.

Curry was barely able to say, “it was Pence. He thought that all the people in gate D were rioters. He shot them all. Julie and the kids were in that group. He shot Julie and the children too. They are dead, it was on video, but we hid the tapes. I was trying to protect him.”

Before Robert even got the chance to tell me I was wrong, Pence entered the room.

“Bang bang bang bang!” Four shots entered Robert’s chest as Pence stood there with a smoking gun. I was overtaken by this moment, so I looked down at my locket, becoming lost in the reflection of the smooth ruby surface.

“I think it’s time that you move on, Torrez.” Pence snarled.

They undid my handcuffs and walked me to the police car. They drove me out to my Prius and even offered me some fuel for the ride up if I never mentioned this day again.

“The government has loads of this stuff,” Curry said to me.

I thought about El Dorado. I thought about the house, the kids, the family. I will find them. I know I will. I hopped in the car and headed for El Dorado. I clicked on the radio, but all I heard was silence.