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Back Midnight Cactus Save as PDF
Chapters (39)
  1. Cover Page
  2. midnight cactus
  3. Dedication
  4. Prologue
  5. part one
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. part two
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. Author’s Note
  39. Acknowledgements

‘And it originates in the town?’ I try to picture where Chavez means, distractedly delivering the sweet back into Jack’s waiting hand.

‘Not any more. It’s been reclaimed by the desert, but we think the mountain track is used by coyotes, drug smugglers—’

‘Oh yuk.’ Jack spits the sweet straight out of his mouth.

‘Jack!’

I hastily pick the chewed mess up off the floor. ‘Jack!’ I hiss.

Chavez chuckles.

Emmy stirs and opens her eyes. ‘My throat is wrinkled.’

Chavez pushes back his chair, his face softening. ‘Take your children home, Mrs Coleman, and get some sleep. Please bring your passports, along with your green immigration forms within forty-eight hours.’

‘Thank you.’ I push myself out of the chair. Grab Jack’s hand.

‘Park in the gas station on the US side of the border, come through on foot and then ask for me downstairs.’

‘I will. Thanks again.’

‘You’re a long way from anyone out there,’ Chavez remarks. He hands me a card. ‘If you need help of any kind, I want you to know that you can call me.’

17

It’s nearly four a.m. by the time we pass Benjamín’s cabin, but there is still no truck outside. I get the children into bed and throw myself down beside them, falling quickly into a fitful sleep. A face looms at the window of my consciousness, the American girl with her slashed handbag. ‘I’m Ezme Santega,’ she says, ‘help me.’ She drops her eyes with a shy smile, but when she looks up again her features have changed and now it’s my daughter who is stretching out her arms to me. ‘I’m Emmy,’ she begs, ‘help me,’ then her mouth twists evilly and she throws a bucket of dirty water straight at my face. I wake with a start.

Emmy lies next to me, arms and legs spread across the sheets like a starfish on the beach. Her head is still hot to touch. I press the thin thermometer to her skin. The first few windows turn yellow then slowly green. The last square remains reassuringly black. I close my eyes again but the events of the night keep playing out behind them on eternal loop and eventually I give up and wander down to the kitchen, taking a blanket off the bed to keep warm.