BETRAYAL AT THE BORDER

                  by

     MARK M. BELLO

A ZACHARY BLAKE LEGAL THRILLER

“Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

                                                            Emma Lazurus            

CHAPTER ONE

“Freeze!” Emilio Gonzalez shouted with glee. He and his big sister, Emma, were playing outside in the small backyard of their Lincoln Park, Michigan home. The game was a version of tag, a game they played together since Emilio could walk. This version was inspired by Frozen, their all-time favorite movie.

            Emilio was seven years old. While he was quite athletic, Emma was nine years old, played soccer in school, and was much faster than her little brother. These rare moments of triumph were quite satisfying to the little boy.

            It was an unusually hot late summer in the Detroit metropolitan area. The kids spent most of this day in the house, watching videos—primarily Frozen, which they watched over and over again. Since daylight savings time extended summer days, the kids were permitted to go outside after supper. On this particular evening, they played as if they were released from ‘time out,’ filled with joy and excitement, as well as the pleasure of each other’s company.

            Emma loved this game and wanted to play it all the time, especially with Emilio. Emilio was less enthusiastic about the game. After all, Freeze not only demonstrated Emma’s physical superiority, it also required Emilio to play a female role. Whether he was Elsa and froze his big sister, or Anna, the girl who got frozen, he still had to pretend he was a girl. If his school friends knew about this, they would never stop teasing him. Emilio played because he loved playing anygame with his big sister. As a condition of the game, Emma had to promise not to tell any of their friends—it had to be their secret.

            The game was the siblings’ favorite movie version of Tocaito, an old Venezuelan game their mother taught them. In Tocaito, one player touches the other, who immediately becomes a statue. After seeing Frozen, Emma and Emilio recognized the movie’s parallels to themes of Tocaito. They changed the traditional game to Freeze to honor the movie. If, for instance, Emilio touched Emma, she didn’t become a statue; she became frozen; she had to remain that way until Emilio chose to unfreeze her.  

This activity resulted in some tense moments between the siblings, because Emma was bigger and faster than her younger brother. Consequently, Emilio was frozen almost all the time, and would quickly tire of the game. Loving the game, a being a good big sister, Emma often let Emilio freeze her, just to watch the joy and excitement the little boy would exhibit every time he caught her. She loved her little brother. He was her best friend and she was fiercely protective of him. However, sometimes, she just could not help being competitive.

            “Freeze!” She tagged him right back and began backpedalling away.

            “You can’t do that!” Emilio cried. “You were frozen! How can you tag someone when you’re frozen?” The boy had a point.

            “Because you can. We are playing by Mama’s rules, remember?” Emma was conveniently applying the rules of the game her mother taught them at a nearby park, so many years ago. Or, perhaps, she was making up her own new rules, an annoying habit Emilio began to notice, as he got older.

            “That’s cheating!” Emilio pouted, folding his arms across his chest and furrowing his brow. “That’s a different game. That’s Tocaito!”

            “No, it’s not. I can freeze you back. We didn’t say what the rules were, so I can make them up as we go along,” Emma rationalized her behavior, out of breath from backpedalling.  

            “I quit!” Emilio snarled, tears forming in his eyes. “You’re a cheater!” He stomped his feet, turned, and headed toward the house.

            “Wait, Emilio, wait! We’ll play your way,” Emma conceded.

            Emilio turned—his angry demeanor instantly joyful. Kids are like that.

            Emma liked bending the rules. Kids are like that, too. Rules were boring. She wanted to play games ‘Emma style,’ making up rules as she went along. Even when she was taught someone else’s game, she liked challenging and changing rules. Games were much more fun played her way. Her brother was willing to tolerate this once in a while; her friends resented her behavior and didn’t like playing games with her.

            Emma once held the unofficial monkey bar record at school and had a very competitive nature. One day, she noticed her friend, Amanda, going back and forth on the bars. Friends were counting out loud the amount of times she went back and forth. Amanda was getting close to Emma’s record.

            Emma ran to the monkey bar on the opposite end of Amanda, jumped up, grabbed hold of the bar with both hands, and headed in the Amanda’s direction. The two girls met in the middle.

            “Get out of the way!” Amanda shouted in a panic. “I was here first!”

            “You get out of the way,” Emma countered. “I was here second.”

            Amanda lifted one of her hands off the bar and tried to reach behind Emma to pass her. Emma stuck her rear end out and forced Amanda off the bars. The child fell to the ground.

            “That’s cheating,” Amanda cried. “I was going to beat your record!”

            “But you didn’t,” Emma teased. “If at first you don’t succeed . . .”

            “I’m telling Miss Brooks,” Amanda interrupted. Miss Brooks was the playground supervisor. When Miss Brooks heard and confirmed the story, she took away Emma’s record and gave it to Amanda. Emma was not happy.

            “She has to beat me! Everyone knows she didn’t beat me,” Emma argued.

            “You have to follow the rules, Emma. And you need to be a good sport. If Amanda can’t beat you fair and square, that’s one thing; but you can’t cheat to prevent her from beating you,” Miss Brooks ruled.

            “Rules are for losers,” Emma insisted. “To beat me, she has to beat me!”

            “But you cheated and prevented her from beating you. That’s not fair. In America, we play by the rules,” Miss Brooks explained.

            Emma learned a hard lesson that day, but with Emilio, she could digress once in awhile. He might get angry with her from time to time, but she would never lose his love.

            Maybe there’s a reason for rules. Maybe Miss Brooks was right—Emilio won’t want to play if the game isn’t fair.

            The children continued to play until the sun began to set in the west. They were red-faced and sweaty when Mama called them into the house. Mama asked who won the game, because the winner got the first bath or shower. Contrary to her nature, Emma declared Emilio the winner, a declaration that caused the little boy to shout with glee. He ran off to the bathroom.

The Gonzales children were both born in Lincoln Park. The city was a part of the Downriver Community, southwest of Detroit. Their little three-bedroom bungalow was the only home they had ever known. In a city of approximately 37,000, around 7,500—20%—were of Latino descent. Since 2010, the percentage of Latino’s residing in Lincoln Park had increased over 50%. 

            Emma and Emilio’s parents, Mary Carmen and Miguel Gonzalez, immigrated to Lincoln Park in 2011, when Mary Carmen was pregnant with Emma. Papa found a job, mixing compounds at an adhesive and filler plant in nearby Riverview. Emma was born soon after her parents moved into the house and knew no other home than Lincoln Park.  Two years later, her little brother was born. The two siblings became fast friends. They depended on each other, especially after Mama secured a job at the same filler plant as her father.

            When they were old enough, Mama placed the children in daycare, where they stayed until the end of Mama’s workday. The two children were attached at the hip at the daycare center until Emma was old enough to go to Kindergarten. When Emilio discovered Emma would attend school and not daycare, he behaved as if his sister died. It was a very traumatic day for the Gonzalez family. 

Emma promised to play with him after school, but Emilio carried on to the point where Emma pushed back and refused to go to school. Promises of candy and ice cream, after school and daycare, finally persuaded both children to go separate ways. As time went by, they adapted to the new routine.

            Two years later, Emilio started Kindergarten and all was forgotten—the siblings were reunited at Raupp Elementary School. Both children spoke fluent Spanish and English and both did well in school. As Emma entered the fourth grade, Emilio entered the second grade. 

The Gonzalez children made friends easily, were well liked and well connected in the school. Emma and Emilio were Americans—while Mama taught them Venezuelan games, customs, and tried to convey a sense of their Latino heritage, the kids had experienced life in no other country but America. They celebrated the Fourth of July and Thanksgiving and proudly recited the Pledge of Allegiance. They spoke English, watched Frozen, over and over, and viewed cartoons on cable or videos on YouTube. Emma collected dolls while Emilio collected baseball cards—he worshipped Miguel Cabrera of the Detroit Tigers and treasured his 2012 Cabrera Triple Crown card. Emma and Emilio did everything other American children did. 

Their parents were determined to raise their children in America, with American values and an American education. They dreamt of a better life, with higher education and, perhaps, affluence for their children. But these dreams were clouded by a secret reality—the Gonzalez family, as ‘American’ as they appeared, protected an important family secret, far more important than the Frozen game. This one could derail all of their dreams.     

            Emma and Emilio were taught to be careful and quiet, even though they didn’t understand why this was a big deal. But they knew Mama and Papa feared their secret would one day be discovered. Their parents’ fear was so intense; Emma and Emilio were frightened too. 

            Emma was conflicted. Mama once taught her that telling and keeping secrets was bad. She shouldn’t tease her little brother by telling him she knew something he didn’t know. She shouldn’t keep things from her friends, and, most of all, she shouldn’t keep any secrets from Mama and Papa. So, why was this secret okay?

            Miguel and Mary Carmen Gonzalez were undocumented immigrants. Emma and Emilio were born in the United States. They were citizens by birthright in accordance with the Fourteenth Amendment of the United States Constitution. Their parents were born in Venezuela.  

Mama carefully explained the delicate situation to her children: She and Miguel came into the country legally but stayed longer than they were welcome. As a result, Mama and Papa were not citizens and did not have the protection some of their friends’ parents had. According to the secret, Mama and Papa could be picked up by the police, at any time, put in jail, and even be sent back to Venezuela. Conditions in Venezuela were terrible, especially for people who ran away and were returned by government mandate. It didn’t matter if their daughter and son were citizens or only nine and seven years of age. If the family secret were discovered, her mother decried, it could mean hasta la vista, forever.

            The threat of permanent separation from her parents terrified Emma. A secret preventing her from being losing them, perhaps forever, was one worth keeping. Emilio was too young to understand, but Emma made him pinky swear to keep the secret.  

After their initial, ominous, disclosure, Miguel and Mary Carmen consistently reminded their children of the importance of keeping the secret. Emma and Emilio were expected to keep it, no ifs ands or buts. Miss Brooks taught Emma that breaking the rules was unacceptable and had consequences. Emma was punished for preventing Amanda from breaking her record. But, was it okay for Mama and Papa to break the rules? Of course, it’s okay! We want to stay in here in America!

 Emma didn’t appreciate this at the time, but her family’s secret explained her negative feelings about rules. She decided at a very young age that rules were made to be broken. What sense did it make to send people back to a country that didn’t want them and would harm them if they returned? If those are the rules, they need to be changed.

            As Emma got older, she began to notice things that provide a better understanding of her parents’ fear. After dinner, her parents often watched the evening news. Emma witnessed people protesting at the southern border to Mexico. She heard phrases like ‘send them back’ and ‘build the wall.’ Video footage of arrests and family separations were heartbreaking. She saw people kept in cages. Emma was a free American, like her friends and neighbors, but she would never be free of worry. Over time, she understood the reason her parents broke the rules and kept the family secret. Television news called families like hers ‘illegal.’ Emma lived in fear of her parents’ capture. Because Miguel and Mary Carmen were illegal, they couldn’t travel like their friends, fly on airplanes cross the northern border into Canada from Detroit. They never went on trips. Emma and her family never went anywhere.

            While Emma understood, she was still slightly conflicted. She learned about crime in school. People who did bad things went to jail. It was ‘illegal’ to steal, to hurt someone, to drink and drive. Mama and Papa didn’t do any of these things. They obeyed every American rule. They worked hard every day, sent their kids to school, participated in community events, drove safely with their children always belted in car seats. They attended church every Sunday. They were decent people, good neighbors, and solid citizens. How could they be criminals?  

            Mama and Papa’s citizenship status was not a subject of conversation in the community. Few people knew they were illegal, because while some people embraced immigrants, others tried to make their lives difficult. Landlords were encouraged not to rent to ‘foreigners’ and employers were encouraged not to hire them. Some communities attempted to block immigrant access to jobs, housing, education and healthcare, a coordinated strategy to prevent large numbers from moving into those communities or neighborhoods. Citizens didn’t want ‘brown people’ swooping in and taking their jobs. Other communities embraced immigration and thrived because hard-working immigrants started businesses, worked for other citizens or independently, provided childcare service, housekeeping, or odd repair jobs.

            One evening, after dinner, the newsman said President Golding was considering a series of raids on immigrants in targeted areas around the country. One of the areas mentioned was Detroit. Golding said it was time to ‘deport the illegals in fairness to those who enter our country legally and obey our laws.’ Did those people complain or something? Emma pondered.      

            “Mama, what does ‘deport’ mean?” Emma wondered, after the newscast ended.

            “It means people who are here without proper papers might get sent back to the country they came from, chica,” Mary Carmen advised.

            “What does ice have to do with it?” Emma glanced at the refrigerator.

            “Que?”

            “They talked about ice on television.”

            Mary Carmen looked at the refrigerator and smiled. “They weren’t talking about ice from the fridge, chica; they were talking about immigration policemen. ICE stands for Immigration and Customs Enforcement, I—C—E. Get it?”

            “What does this ICE do?”

            “They find people who are here without proper papers. If people can’t prove they are citizens or have a right to be citizens, they get sent back to the country they came from.”

            “Can that happen to you and Papa? Do you have these proper papers? Are you and Papa criminals, Mama?”

            “That’s a difficult question to answer, chica. Papa and I came to this country a long time ago. We arrived legally and followed all of the rules, but our papers expired before we could become citizens. We were supposed to go back to Venezuela, but you were just a baby and it was dangerous back home in Venezuela. Here in America, Papa had a good job: we had a nice home, lots of friends and relatives in the area. We couldn’t possibly go back to the old country. 

“We decided to stay and try to work out our paper problem later. As the years went by, the government made it more and more difficult for us to become citizens. We were caught in a trap. We weren’t supposed to stay, but we couldn’t go back, either.”

“What are you going to do? The newsman on television says ICE is coming to Detroit.” 

            “I don’t know, sweetheart. Papa says everything will be okay. Maybe they won’t come to Lincoln Park. Maybe they will only come to Detroit. All we can do is hope and pray.”

            “I’ll say a special prayer at bedtime, Mama, from now on!”

            “Oh, Emma, thank you! That makes me feel so much better. I’m positive God will listen to you, chica. You are my special little girl!

            Emma almost burst with pride. She would pray extra hard tonight. Mama and Papa were counting on her.

***

The Gonzalez family continued to live their lives as if there was no threat to their safety or freedom. What choice did they have? Their children were American citizens. President Golding and ICE made good on their threats in other communities in Texas, Mississippi, Arizona, California, and Florida, but raids had not yet visited the Detroit area. However, everything changed in September, during the second week of school.

Reporters interrupted evening programming to announce ICE raids on businesses and manufacturing plants in Detroit and surrounding communities. Emma was horrified at the news. She was convinced ICE would walk into Mama and Papa’s plant or, worse, break into their home and take her parents away, right in front of them. She implored Mary Carmen and Miguel to stay home from work and hide, or get in the car and drive away. She didn’t care where they went, as long as they went somewhere where ICE was not grabbing people off the streets and taking them to away to be put in cages.

Miguel tried to soothe his daughter. He told her everything was under control at the plant. The people he worked for would take care of him and Mama. They were ready for ICE if their policemen came to the plant. People called lawyers were waiting by the telephone. These people knew immigration law better than anyone and would protect Miguel and Mary Carmen if ICE raided the plant. 

“We are good citizens. We work hard, contribute to the economy, and pay our taxes,” Miguel explained. Emma understood only the ‘work hard’ and ‘good citizen’ parts of his explanation. He’s not a citizen, though, she reasoned, with maturity beyond her years. That’s the problem! 

Of course, none of Miguel’s assurances were true. Miguel and Mary Carmen were illegal aliens. They had a small savings account, too little money to hire the expensive lawyers needed to fight deportation. If, indeed, ICE raided the plant, there was little the Gonzalez family or any other similarly situated family could do to prevent the consequences. They couldn’t run, as Emma wanted; they had no place else to go. If they did decide to run, without their jobs, they would soon run out of money. They knew the day would come when their freedom would be threatened, but they hoped it would be later than sooner, perhaps after some type of amnesty program was introduced for people in their situation.

The following day, Miguel and Mary Carmen kissed their children goodbye and put them on the school bus. They pre-arranged with their pastor and members of their church to monitor the situation and make sure the kids were picked up and housed if anything happened at the plant. The church rallied to their side, offering the children room and board in weekly shifts, if the plant was raided and the parents were incarcerated. The couple watched and waved as the bus disappeared down the street. Emma and Emilio sat at the back window, happily waving, watching their parents disappear. 

Will we see each other again? Miguel wondered, his eyes tearing as the bus drove away.  “Mis hijos!” Mary Carmen cried, clutching her husband, burying her face in his chest. “What will become of them?”

The couple embraced for a few precious moments. Finally, they separated and walked to the car.