Dale Haze and the Champions

The steady thump of my footsteps echoed in my ears and I felt a bead of sweat roll down my forehead. Only a few more hours. I look over to my side and noticed everyone running at the same pace. The cold and fresh breeze brushes against my cheek shaking my body to life instead of coffee. As I run, the sun made it’s way, crawling onto the plain fields. We all cower away from the sunlight dreading it’s touch. As the sun made it’s way up, we start to slow down into a jogging pace. I look over to see Coyote, he is the leader of the group. I have heard of all kinds of stories about Coyote’s journeys to America. He is tall about six feet tall. He has broad shoulders making him look well built. His dark black sombrero, which he has never taken off. The most memorable feature of his is the deep, still red colored scar across his face from his right eye to his mouth. He keeps saying that it came from the border patrol. Which I doubt but who was I to question him? He slows down and runs at my pace, “Estas segura? Podemos regresar a tu pueblo.” I frown at how he’s not taking me seriously. “Estoy segura. Quiero ir con ustedes.” Why would I return back to Oaxaca? Everybody has done this. Some come back and others abandon their families. I wasn’t doing this for my family. They abandoned me a long time ago. I was doing this for myself, who gets an offer like this? A babysitting job in Hawaii is the ticket out of here, my only chance. Elvira would be furious if I were to return. Elvira is…