Nighttime has a funny thing to it,” thought Mercedes Gonzalez, a lonely individual adrift in the world. It has the tendency to make one second guess one’s choices and also has the tendency to make one recognize the rightness of one’s own innate abilities.” Mercedes sits on a bus on its way towards a destination she never dreamed she would possibly be headed, not in her wildest nightmares:the U.S./Mexican border. She is a tall, pretty woman of Mexican descent, with a mocha complexion and dark brown hair, who speaks with a slight accent even though she is an American, born in the United States to middle class parents who had earlier in life struggled to escape poverty in a poor town near Juarez City.Mercedes felt like the odd ball of the family as her siblings, an older sister who went to law school and a younger brother who made it to medical school, while she had completed high school but had no real aspirations for further education, nor any clear ideas of what she wanted to do with her life. She felt that maybe if she had made better choices, got a good education like her siblings and like her parents had pushed her to, she would not be in the predicament she is in now.She is over thirty, single and childless, and has been convicted of assault with a deadly weapon.Due to some mix-up in paperwork she does not understand, she is now being transported to the Mexican border to be deported, despite her pleas that she is an American citizen. Her hands handcuffed in front of her, she sits in there in a brown suede jacket, jeans and sneakers, trying to understand what has happened to her.

She contemplates her memories of when she was first apprehended only a few months ago, when her journey through the system began. She was at a local bar in her hometown in California. She was alone and hoping to meet someone. She made her way past the usual crowd of ruffians and drunkards who were already wasted before happy hour is even over. She saw a dark-haired handsome man in his forties, wearing an Armani suit with gold cufflinks. He looked like a man of wealth and sophistication, so she approached and introduced herself, ignoring the younger girls he had been talking with.

“Hi, I’m Mercedes Gonzalez. What’s your name?” She sits beside him.

“Broad Staffnight, you are really hot.”

“Thanks,” she replied, blushing, “this old thing?” She referred to the bright red dress she had on, a lucky find at a local thrift store. “Want to buy me a drink?” She uttered.

“Sure. Excuse me ladies,” Broad brushed aside his younger targets and escorted Mercedes, clinging to his elbow, to the bar. “Two margaritas,” He told the bartender. “So tell me where you’re from and where you’re headed, doll?”

“Born and raised on the west coast and headed hopefully to your place, handsome!”

The bartender brought their drinks and they sipped them and talked casually, getting to know each other. A few drinks later, they were discussing leaving for his place when a young blonde woman approached them and began yelling at Broad.

“I knew you were cheating on me you bastard. I don’t want to see you ever again!” Elizabeth shouted.

“Wait, Elizabeth” Broad begged.

“What?” Mercedes stands up tripping over herself, feeling the margaritas.

“Who is this slut?” Elizabeth yells. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Who are you calling a slut, Chick? You are the trollup!” Mercedes screamed, shoving Elizabeth with both hands. Elizabeth shoved her back and the two women were instantly embroiled in what looked like an amateur wrestling match on the floor of the bar.

“Ladies, please” Broad yelled at both women, trying to stop them, but the two began exchanging punches until Mercedes picked up a beer bottle that had fallen to the floor and smashed it against Elizabeth’s head.Elizabeth felt her head and upon seeing her own blood, fainted. Mercedes got up and looked around wildly at the people looking at her and the police running through the door towards the women. She is arrested and later charged with aggravated assault with a deadly weapon and finally, convicted. After that her inability to verify her identity and a “mix-up” in her paperwork made them think she is an illegal and undocumented Mexican immigrant, so an immigration judge ordered her deportation to Mexico. The entire process was unusually fast.

It’s like I’m cursed.” She thought to herself sitting on the bus. “How could this happen? How come my parents couldn’t stop it? I am totally screwed.

The bus came to a stop at the border. A border patrol agent walked on and yelled first in English then in Spanish that they had arrived at the border, and they must exit the bus single file to await processing on both sides of the border before they are let go. Mercedes thought to herself, “I’m going to be homeless in a country I’ve never visited. I can’t believe this is happening to me.” She walked out of the bus, was processed by officers on both sides, and then finally was released into Juarez City, Mexico. She walks around in the darkness of night fearful and alone.She has nothing of value nor any belongings but the clothes on her back, and she fears for her safety as she sees squalor and poverty around her, people slipping through the night and hiding in the shadows. She smells marijuana smoke nearby and sees men standing around a fire in a steel drum, passing a bottle. She thought to herself, “Oh my God, where do I go? There isn’t even a church nearby.” She did not want to fall asleep in an alleyway in such a dangerous part of town so she walks for miles until too tired to continue as daybreak begins.She saw a small farm house and walks over and knocks on the door. The door opens and a small, frail, elderly woman answered, speaking Spanish.“Hello?” “Uh, my Spanish is not that great. Hello. I am looking for a room” says Mercedes in her inadequate Spanish.“My God, Are you American?” asks the woman in Spanish. “Yes, American, yes” responds Mercedes in Spanish smiling and nodding, “do you speak English?” The woman yells into the house in Spanish as she opens the door all the way and beckons Mercedes inside. “Mama, I was sleeping, what’s up?” A young dark-haired man with a muscular build comes out shirtless from his bedroom. He suddenly saw Mercedes and stopped in his tracks. “Oh” they stare at one another only for a second, but something passed between them and both felt the attraction.“There is this American woman” says the old woman to her son in Spanish. “She needs a room for the night, I think. This is my son, Juan Carlos.”

“Hey, you speak English?” asks Juan Carlos.

“Yes” replies Mercedes.

“Welcome, we do have a spare room, only three pesos per night.”

“Um, I don’t have any money, it’s a long story. I can work it off. I can do housework and maybe fieldwork if it’s not too strenuous.”

“I see. I think that can be arranged.” he smiles, and she nodded in return.

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