Her hand reaches out for his hand. The little boy still looking straight ahead grabs is mother’s hand and holds on tight. The mom looks down at him, she can sense his nervousness. He looks back at the town behind him, then at the dirty road in front of them. On the road is a bus that is boarding passengers with bags, some with parcels, but all ready for the long ride ahead of them.
The mom knees next to her son and asks, “What’s wrong? Are you scared?,” the boy looks down at the ground and answers, “Not scared but don’t want to leave.” The mother knows his pain, she doesn’t want to leave either; but it’s not a choice she’s made lightly. She puts down her bag on the ground and knees to keep it secure, and with her freed hands she caress his face and gently pulls it to face hers. The boy was right, it wasn’t fear but sadness and uncertainty in the boys face. The mother can see the little boys worry, “I promise we will be back one day,” the boy does not look assured, “We need to do this for our future, you need to trust me.” The boy looks away from his mom.
She looks for his face, “do you trust me?,” the boy looks up at his mother. He slowly shakes his head, yes. “I need to you hear say it,” his mother tells him, “Yes, I trust you.” She kisses his forehead, stands up and grabs the bag. They both start walking towards the bus.
He looks back a few times, then towards the bus doors. The bus driver asks for their tickets and mother hands him the tickets. The boy turns around to see a couple of kids yelling and playing soccer. The mother pulls his arm and he turns and walks onto the bus. They walk to the first open two seats they can find. She lets him sit by the window. He moves to his seat and the mother puts their bag in the overhead and sit next to her son.
The mother makes sure that he is comfortable. He is still looking out the window. The boys who were playing on the street have left. The mother knows how he is feeling. She looks out the window at only place she has ever know, the only place she has ever called home. A place where her family is known by all, where everyone knows their name. The place where she was baptized, where she went to school, had her first dance and meet the man who would give her the world; her son. She slowly notices tears are coming down her face, see looks forward and wipes her eyes. She does it quickly so her son doesn’t see her.
The bus driver closes the door and start the bus. He looks out sideview mirrors and puts the bus in gear. The bus slowly starts to pull away, the boy still looking out the window. Tears are now slowly coming down his cheeks. He keeps looking out the window so his mother does not see him crying, he doesn’t make a sound. The bus gets on road and picks up speed, the small Peruvian town starts to look smaller and smaller. They are off and away, onto their new lives far away from this place they the know has home.
Day #11 SJD
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Segundo Juan Devora 