Chapter Seventeen #3

“Which you shouldn't be. Look, this is crazy—your guys in the

cars down there are doing something else.”

“What do they do when you leave the house?”

I haven’t gone out yet. Suddenly that

was too pitiful an admission. “Nothing. Forget them. I'm glad you

came back, because I wanted to talk to you about something

important. Can you stay for a few minutes more?”

“I... I think so, yes.”

“Good. And can we have the conversation by the pool, not up a

jacaranda? What sort of coffee do you like?”

The boy

coloured deeply. “No. My people—the staff and the gardeners here—we

have our own lives. We do well, and we don't...” He struggled for

the words. “We don't look down on ourselves. But we don't sit at

poolsides with—”

“Nonsense,” Sasha interrupted him mildly. “Don't give me any of

this my people stuff—you have no idea who you're talking to. I know I have to

keep you hidden, and chuck you out before Mrs Alvarez arrives, but

for now you're my visitor. My guest.”

Nevertheless Sasha keyed and thumbprinted himself back indoors

and crept into his kitchen like a thief. Just black was how Mateo liked his

coffee, but the Gaggia didn't seem to have that modest setting, and

besides would raise the roof with its hissing and clatter. Once

more Sasha cracked out the instant. Defiantly he added to the tray

a plateful of the biscuits he'd sneaked undeclared into the US,

certain that Laurie would get peckish around midnight and that

nothing else would do. He tucked his laptop and notebook under his

arm and awkwardly made his way back out. Mateo, perched on the edge

of the stone bench, smiled upon his homely offerings and looked

more at ease than if Sasha had whisked out with cocktails and

olives. “Rich tea biscuits on a little plate... You really are

English, aren't you?”

“No. I told you—part Romanian.” Sasha put the tray down on the

bench between them. “Not even fully a citizen there. I was—am—from

a Roma community, what many people in the West call gypsies. So

when I entered Britain, I learned very quickly what it meant to be

an immigrant.”

“An illegal one.”

Sasha

nodded brusquely, avoiding the sympathetic darkening of Mateo's

eyes. All that was over. He just wanted to convey the bare bones so

that the boy would trust him. “Not for long. I had friends,

sponsors, a lot of help. I'm telling you this because I think I

could help you.”

“What—with immigration?” Mateo smiled. He cautiously took up

one hot mug and sipped from it, regarding Sasha over the rim.

“Respectfully—your British authorities are like... well, like

little chihuahuas beside American bulldogs.”

“You said your friends and relatives around here would abandon

you if you got caught. Deny you. I know they've got a lot staked on

their jobs, but that's extreme, isn't it?”

“Not really. I don’t blame them.”

“Are they worried about their own immigration

status?

“It isn’t that. They’re legal, most of them. It’s just that I

am a black goat they wish didn’t belong to their flock.” Mateo

hesitated, then plunged on. “My father has links to the Colombian

cocaine trade. Only small time, bajo

nivel. But my relatives here, they want to

lose the connection.”

Sasha took this in. Mateo had coloured, but it was hard for

Sasha to be shocked, not with Stefan Petrica in the background for

perspective. Don’t worry—my dad’s a Romani

gang lord... “Okay. Where’s your father

now?”

“Back in Mexico. He brought me here with him when I was just a

kid, hidden with a truckload of migrant farm workers. He isn’t a

bad man—I think back then he believed he could get away, start

again.”

“Did immigration catch up with him? Or the

Colombians?”

“I’m not sure. But either way he had to run, and he left me

here with my aunt.”

“All right.” Sasha opened his laptop and turned the screen up

bright against the sun. It had been Laurie who'd first taught him

that there might be a difference between a migrant and a refugee,

between someone who chose not to go home and someone who couldn't.

Laurie who'd fiercely protected him, walked at his side every step

of the way. It was a debt Sasha could never repay, but Laurie had

laughed, kissed him, said he’d find a way to pay it forward. “I’m

sorry to ask questions about things which must be painful to you.

Did you ever go back to Mexico—leave this country at all—since you

arrived?”

“No. I haven’t dared.”

“And did you...” Sasha tapped through site after site, chasing

the thread of an idea. “Did you manage to get into a school

here?”

“Yes. The authorities are fierce with adults, but with children

they sometimes look the other way. All a kid needs to get into

school is an address, and Aunt Rosa gave me that.”

“And you graduated? From high school, I mean?”

Mateo

nodded. He looked at Sasha in a mix of pride and frustration. “I

did well. But now I am stuck. To get into a college or to take my

GED I’d need far more documentation than I’ve ever had. And the

moment I left school, I was liable for arrest and deportation

anyway, so...” He shrugged. “Here I am. Underground in paradise,

picking leaves out of pools. Likely to stay that way.”

“But you want more than that.”

“Of course I do. I’m good at math and science. This country

doesn’t love me, but I couldn’t live here all these years without

learning to love it, or some of the people here anyway. I thought

about training to be a nurse, a paramedic... What’s the point,

though?”

“The point is...” Yes. There it was. Just a month or so before,

Obama had sent a flurry through Republican waters and caused a few

ripples in his own by deciding that it wasn’t fair that illegal

minors should be packaged back off to their countries of origin.

“Have you heard of the DACA memorandum—Deferred Action for

Childhood Arrivals?”

“I heard something about it. I didn’t pay much attention. It

sounded like more empty promises.”

“No, this one went through. It was a half measure, nothing like

the DREAM Act was meant to be, but...” Sasha turned the screen

round so that Mateo could read it. “Look. It means that the

enforcement agencies should at least consider individual cases

before throwing kids out. It’s all pretty vague at the moment, but

there’s some ground rules in place—you had to have been brought

here before you were sixteen, have stayed here for five years

continuously and graduated from a high school. It’s early days.

They’ll be looking for test cases.”

“What—people like me? I wouldn’t stand a chance. They’d only

have to hear about my father, and...”

“What would happen to you if you were sent home?”

“If my father's still alive—I'm not sure. If a man runs away

from the bosses there, sometimes they take his family to persuade

him back.”

“You might be abducted. Good.” Mateo raised an eyebrow, but

Sasha ploughed on, copying a chunk of text from a website and

pasting it into his word processor. “Potentially that gives you

refugee status too. Listen—all of this is very vague. And even if

you did jump all the hoops, it doesn’t guarantee you permanent

legal status. The very best you’ll get out of it is a stay of

execution—the right to work and study here for another two

years.”

“But that’s all I want.”

“And in two years... Well, I doubt that DREAM will go through,

but there may be some kind of change in legislation that would be

of long-term help to you.”

Mateo

sat quietly. Already he seemed more solid, as if even the promise

of progress, status and a chance had made a difference. “Why are

you doing all this for me?”

“So far I’ve done very little. This is just information—stuff

everyone should have access to, but often it’s more convenient to

governments and authorities if you don’t.”

“No. It’s more than that.”

Sasha

tried to close his ears to the new warmth in his tone. “Well, I...

I have to study international case law anyway, for the next stage

of my qualifications. I might as well study you.” He drew out a

card from a pocket in his laptop case. “My organisation in London

has branches here too. This is a central number. Whether they can

help you or not, I don't know. But they will take you seriously,

and they won't ask for personal details until you're ready to give

them.”

Mateo

took the card and turned it over thoughtfully. He had nice hands,

Sasha observed without wishing to—strong and square, with blunted

finger ends. Yes, he looked made for risks and hard work. Sasha

would have bet on him in the race for life. “So... you started off

as an illegal. Now look at you.”

Sasha

glanced up. Mateo was studying him at least as intently as Sasha

had examined the internet screen and reports on his behalf. “Look,

I'm not holding myself out as an example to you, an if-I-can-do-it

story or anything like that.” He smiled and shivered, remembering.

“I wouldn't recommend anyone scrabbled their way to citizenship the

way I did.”

“You weren’t just illegal. You were a refugee.”

It

wasn't a question. Sasha wondered which of his shadows were

visible. They should have burned away to nothing in this

Californian light, but still there was the spare room—the

headaches, and his fucking stupid dreams. “Never mind,” he said,

getting up. “Think about what I've told you. Don't act on any of it

until you're sure you want to face the consequences. And come back

and talk to me again, but...”

“But I have to go now. Mrs Alvarez is due in five

minutes.”

Sasha

checked his watch. “Yes, she is. How did...”

“She's my tia Rosa's cousin.” Mateo smiled brilliantly. “I know her schedule

better than she does. I will think of what you've said, and...” He

held out a hand, the gesture oddly formal in contrast with the

warmth of his eyes. Still, they hadn't yet shaken hands, Sasha

supposed, and he reached back readily, good English manners by now

a reflex with him.

Mateo

turned Sasha's hand. He raised it, opened up the palm, and planted

there one soft-lipped kiss. “And I will think of you.”

***

Alone in

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