Misery to the left, U.S. to the right

By Nemira Nedelcu

Thousands of people try every year to cross the border illegally to get to the U.S.A. Pablo, it's just one of them. Here is the story of a fourteen-year-old who decides to embark on a journey through Mexico after a chain of unfortunate events, starting from Oaxaca de Juarez's hometown. With little money in his pocket and a broken heart, his map will be the only friend he can count on. But we will see he is gonna need more than that.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nemira Nedelcu
• Release date: Dec 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201135805

Nemira Nedelcu

Nemira Nedelcu is a Romanian writer born in the 90s, who grew up watching romantic soap operas, playing football, beating boys and climbing trees. Nowadays she lives in Portugal, in the sunny Algarve. When she is not working, she enjoys making up stories. Real life issues is what she inspires her.

Book preview

Prologue

06.07.2010

Abluish hand, chopped down to the elbow, was lying on sucking in cement full of blood. A black ring was placed on the pointing finger. That tin plate added sense to the gruesome spectacle, giving away a significant detail. It was a symbol of loyalty towards the organization, with the initials C.N.V. carved inside. The New Generation Cartel. But in their world, known by most of you only through a television screen or a newspaper, the term loyalty is pretty vague. In another room, I found the rest of the corpse.  Riddled with bullets. The victim seemed to be a teenager still. Old memories kept fresh in my mind began to wander again. Human nature is entirely defensive. The bigger your trauma is, the bigger your defense mechanism becomes. If you have ever been on the verge of getting drowned, so close to death that you looked at it straight in the eyes, most probably it won't suddenly become your vivid dream to be a sailor or a diver. But my case is a little bit different. It seems like the scarfaces marked by violence can’t heal unless I open them till bleeding. A remote voice brings me back to the present.

Pablo, exit the back door! I have something to show you, Erick shouts with enthusiasm.

Erick, my colleague, and my friend, never stops to surprise me. Even though he has been working for the D.E.A. for more than 15 years, his passion and involvement in every investigation are contagious. If it hadn't been for his vast experience he always proves, you are likely to believe that he is new in town.

What took you so long? Erick asked nervously. Are you ok? You look pale. And your hands are shaking, he says while I'm trying to light a cigarette

"I’m fine. What else have you found? Another chopped body?

First part

Iwas sitting on the porch of my house, observing every passing car. But none of them bothered me because I was waiting specifically for one car:  the red Volkswagen Vento that belongs to my dad. He was about to show up at any minute. To mark time, I was drinking soda juice, sweeter than the vanilla and butter cookies my mom prepared for my birthday. The guests were in the backyard, minding their own business according to age. After one long hour, with my stomach burning because of that acid, I had no choice but to join my family and my guests.

Did my father call you? I'm asking my mom full of hope.

No, he didn't. I tried to call him several times, but his phone was off. Probably his battery is dead. But don't worry, he must be here any minute.

He never misses our birthdays. What if something happened to him?

Your father handles any situation, Pablo! I told you not to worry; he must be caught up in traffic. Go back to your colleagues! It is not polite to leave them alone for so long. They are all here to celebrate your birthday.

I could read the concern on my mother's face, even though she didn't want to admit it. Although my father works a lot and days pass without spending an hour in his company, it's unlike him to miss out on family anniversaries. He rather misses Christmas or Easter. Because crooks won't take a day off just because it is a holy celebration for the rest of us.

It's a little past midnight, and we still don't have a sign from our father. It seems like my fourteen anniversary is the ugliest one so far. Except for my aunt, all the guests are gone. We are all sitting quietly around the kitchen table, leftovers scattered everywhere, paralyzed in our chairs.  Mom talked to one of my dad's superiors. He told my mom that my father and ten other colleagues headed north to a dangerous area where many drug dealers operated. Nobody dared to break the sinister silence except the phone. My mother winced and answered the phone, all shaking.

Good evening! Do you have any news about my husband? Have you found him? Is he alright?

I am so sorry, Mrs Contreras...There has been a gun battle between agents and members of the cartel...Only three of eleven survived; the rest of them didn't make it. And agent Contreras...well...he didn't either. I offer you my deepest sympathies!

The atmosphere was so tense that I had the feeling we all burst into flames at some point without using a single match. My mother's face, always young and beautiful, was now distorted by pain.

03.05.2000. This day was supposed to change the fate of our family. A happy family once. How could I ever possibly enjoy and celebrate my birthday? When it