La Honda

If you ever find yourself in the middle of Mexico, within the red dirt and wild cactus of the state Zacatecas, you might wander into 'La Honda,' a community of thousands of German people. They're tall, with blue or green eyes and blond hair; each of them so German that, for a while, you forget that you're in Mexico.

I knew I was in rural Mexico as soon as I stepped out of the Cessna, however. It was clear to me that I was in a different world; the air seemed fresher, less polluted than New Jersey's air. The sky seemed wider and the clouds seemed so close that you could almost reach them. The 2-hour drive to 'La Honda' was not as pleasant; I passed through small villages and witnessed the country's sadder side. The houses were made of mud adobe and I saw children without shoes playing in the streets. I saw a pregnant woman carrying a large bucket of water on the side of the road. It seemed as if American poverty would be a luxury compared to Mexican poverty, and yet I saw smiles and lifted spirits all through those towns. It was something so unusual.

When we arrived at 'La Honda' the scenery changed. The poverty was still quite obvious, but people there now dressed differently there. The men wore work overalls, the women wore long, colored dresses and big hats to protect their fair skin from the unforgiving sun.

The van stopped outside the restaurant where my contact said we were to meet. His name was David, and he was the tallest person I had ever met.

'Christopher?' he asked as he approached. I immediately noticed his roughed-up hands and oil-stained overalls. There was dirt on his face and on his thick, blond hair.

Without hesitation but still nervous from the unusual situation I was in, I reached my hand out for a handshake.

"It's nice to meet you in person finally- you're taller than I expected," I said.

David Laughed. "What did you expect?" He asked, "German leprechauns? No, I believe those are of Irish tradition," he said with his heavy German accent.

I took a deep breath, "Here we are," I said.

"Here we are, indeed. Come in." He said and guided me into the restaurant.

The restaurant was called "Home Cooked," and it served 'American' food. It was a strange feeling being there- it was like being in an episode of The Twilight Zone. I didn't expect my first meal in Mexico to be American food, yet of all the items on the menu, there were no tacos, and it was rather upsetting. I suppose many details of Mexico are left out of the movies, which is my main source of information on every country.

"Well, let's get to it," David said as he added ketchup to his burger.

I appreciated his to-the-point approach.

I gathered my thoughts because I was still unsure about myself. "Well, as we discussed on the phone, I just need a few things," I said. "A guide, if you're still willing to help me, and some digging equipment- nothing too fancy."

David nodded, picking his teeth with his pinky finger. "I have to say, my friend, that I think you're crazy, but I'm glad you're here.

I laughed a little.

"This year the rains came in too late, much too late," he said as he looked out the wide window near our booth," and our crops didn't survive the drought, most of them anyway; what you offer to pay is a blessing, for my family. I thank you".

I nodded. "I'm glad," I said. "The internet is a wonderful tool- I'm glad I could find you, and this place; it was like a sign," I said, "I hope your family will benefit. How many kids do you have?"

"8," he said with a rather mischievous smile.

"Holy sh- wow-Sorry, I wasn't expecting that," I said, slightly embarrassed that I couldn't hide my initial reaction.

He laughed. "It's okay, friend. having five or more kids here is normal here," he said, "In fact, it's encouraged. There's no um, what's that thing you have in the states?" he asked, struggling to find the right words. "Social Security," he said, "That's it. We don't have social security here. So, when we're old and dying, it's our kids who take care of us."

He laughed, and I laughed with him, too- but I also understood the logic to that. It made sense, and it was kind of sad, really.

"Do you have a family?" He asked me, "You look too young to have eight kids like me- a wife perhaps?

That question suddenly made me feel a hole in my chest, an immense sadness that suddenly plagued my heart.

"A wife," I said as I looked down on my wedding ring. "She passed"

A confusing look came to David's face.

"She died," I clarified. "In a car accident."

David shook his head in disbelief. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said turning his look to the clouds again.

"That's why I'm here- That's what I couldn't tell you on the phone," I said. "I should be at home with her now and not here- arguing with her about how she asks too many questions during a movie," I gripped my glass, "but I'm not."

David seemed genuinely saddened.

"A drunk driver took her from me," I said with bitterness.

I'm not one to talk about my troubles so openly, but I was in a land where nobody knew my name, and David, still being somewhat of a stranger, seemed concerned and interested.

"Why a drunk driver?" He asked, "Why does he have to do with you being here?" He asked in his broken English and heavy accent.

"The day of the accident was a bright Tuesday afternoon, not the time I imagined fatal drunk driving accidents happen," I said, "It was in the middle of nowhere, and that's the last time I heard Hannah's voice. "

"oh, beautiful name," he said.

"It happened so fast, yet it felt like hours- I suppose it was the shock. I was driving, and the next thing I could remember was pulling Hannah out of the car. The moments are patchy, but I remember her blood-stained hair and her yellow shirt quite vividly. I remember laying her on the grass and checking if she was breathing- she was. At that moment, I felt a sense of security- like it was going to be okay."

"Wow," he said.

"I couldn't find my phone after the crash. Everything in our vehicle was completely rearranged; there were items outside the car and no one near enough to help; our phones could've been anywhere. I felt completely hopeless."

David's eyes were completely focused on me.

"So?" he asked, "what did you do?"

"Initially, It hadn't occurred to me that there was another vehicle involved. There were a lot of things I hadn't noticed; the blood dripping down my neck, the broken finger, the cuts on my arm. I was running on adrenaline the whole time."

I took a drink and gathered my thoughts again.

"I approached the other car. I wasn't prepared for what I was about to see," I said, "the car's fender had impaled the driver, his body-"

I paused, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't talk about this when we're eating."

"No, please go on," He responded. "I'm trying to imagine."

I continued. "The driver looked unconscious, probably dead." I said, "I looked for his phone but it was nowhere in sight. I found other things, though; In the back seat, scattered were rolls of hundred dollar bills, dozens of them. There were also white, glossy packages, and I've watched enough movies to know what I had found. Some of the packages had ripped during the crash, making the interior look like it was left open during a snowstorm."

David, with disbelief in his face, muttered something to himself in German. "Oh my goodness," he said.

"Well," I continued, "perhaps most unusual was the briefcase on the floor of the passenger seat. In it were papers, a small black notebook, and a gun with a marble grip and a gold-encrusted skull."

David sat motionlessly, and I saw fear in his eyes. "Golden skull on the gun," He whispered as if knowing what that symbolism meant.

The restaurant felt quiet and empty, as if we the only people inside. It was then that I realized what I had done- what I was doing.

I don't know how to mourn. Does anyone? Was this all a distraction to avoid mourning? It's only been a month after Hannah's death, and I hadn't shed a signal tear. Yet a heavy sadness weighed me down and ate me up from the inside.

"David," I said, "there's something you should know- I imagine you've already put the pieces together, but I took that money-$20,000- and the briefcase with the papers, and the small black notebook. I left the gun."

His eyes widened with disbelief.

"In the black notebook, I found the coordinates that led me to this place, among other things. I translated the writing with a translation app for Spanish, and from that, I gathered that there's a location nearby with 3 barrels of cash, maybe human remains buried alongside, too. I also know that the notebook owner was the only person who knew the coordinates because the people who buried the money were executed immediately by him. There corpses buried with the money."

I felt a slight weight lifted off my shoulders- that was the most honest thing I had said in a month. I took the money because- well- I don't know exactly- everything happened so fast. I didn't expect Hannah to die later that night in the hospital- it's just that, well, it doesn't matter anymore. I took it, and now I have to live or die with the consequences. It was then that I realized what I was getting myself into- and I knew that David was taking a risk, too.

"David, we can't dig for that money- we shouldn't," I said.

"You've come so far. I wish you had told me this before you made the trip," David said with a confused look "now I really think you're crazy." He paused, "I don't know what to say."

"I'm sorry," I said, "but I still want to pay you for your time- I know you mentioned how much this job would help you. How about $20,000? Well," I paused, "actually $18,000- I've already spent about two grand on my trip down here."

I could tell David was baffled with me more and more each time I spoke.

"You're not serious," he said "what will you do? I can't- this is madness." He said scratching his head.

"Well, I can't have you digging up cartel money with me- are you willing to take that risk? As for me, Hannah's life insurance will cover for me once I bring myself to sign the papers. Besides," I added, "I'll have social security when I get older."

David put his hands over his face as if trying not to cry. Then he looked up.

"You must meet my family," he said.