Sanctuary: Chapters 1–4

The Great American Wall.
There was nothing great about it. More like grotesque. It blocked out the sky, with fifty-foot-tall reinforced steel slats and thick metal mesh in between.

A stampede of green zombies charged into the fray.

There were bodies writhing and twisting on the ground.

There were stark gray cinder-block walls behind it, interrupted only by a portrait of the President and an empty wooden chair.

I got how Americans could become mesmerized and hypnotized by these vapid talking heads.

I wanted to get lulled into believing them too.

Only, I knew what it meant to live a lie. A lie that made me awkward and shy around people I didn’t know. A lie that made me skittish when I heard sirens or got assigned a project in school that involved personal family narratives.

Mami’s ajiaco was still simmering on the stove, and I was still smoldering with questions, but we had to keep going.

Mami’s votive flames looked too close to Papi’s beard, and la Virgen wasn’t even watching over him.

I didn’t know how she kept it all together. How she fed and clothed us while our world was being demolished. I couldn’t decide whether this was resilience, or foolishness.

She enunciated everything in her imperfect English, her voice clear and firm so I could hear her resolve.

It now had a minty sheen to it too, with some of his curls shellacked down, but most of the back still sticking up in tufts.

We’d had a few ice storms and some flash floods up here, followed by our current drought, which was in its second sweltering year.

Or maybe I could impart some wisdom or warning about being aware and alert and the frailty of our existence.

“Nah...that’s it,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

He looked like he’d just woken up, his face sagging with a bushy mustache and thick jowls.

Her arched eyebrows were taut with worry.

“Everything’s fine,” I said, trying to sound as cool and impenetrable as Mami.

Ernie called them R2-D2s because they were from the first fleet of driverless commuter vehicles and they scuttled along the outer loop of Southboro, making creaky noises when they turned too fast.

Every day I came to school, I felt like all the color had been sucked out of my life. The entire building was just so freaking sterile and bare.

The design was supposed to keep us calm and compliant.

Apparently, the founders were two psychologists who did some research about teenage angst and decided that we could only be safe in a world as pale as skim milk.

Even though the principal always touted Morrow’s great math department, someone had obviously forgotten to calculate that imbalance.

But it did feel like on this morning—more than any other, really—I had a target on my back. Or actually, embedded in that chip on my wrist.

Then a swath of air at the front of the classroom started shimmering in a giant hologram.

“Last night, an act of treason was perpetrated upon the United States in the state of California.”

They may arrest suspects without a warrant. They may also enter private property without a warrant. They will also have absolute discretion to forgo deportation trials should they deem it appropriate in order to protect our country.

They may arrest suspects without a warrant. They may also enter private property without a warrant. They will also have absolute discretion to forgo deportation trials should they deem it appropriate in order to protect our country.

“Let me assure you,” the President continued, “we are and will continue to be the strongest, most prosperous nation on the planet. As such, it is my duty as President of these United States and commander in chief of the armed forces to also enforce mandatory curfews and accelerated monitorization in accordance with the newly enacted Alien Registration Act of 2032. Failure to comply will result in arrest, detainment, and/or prolonged internment.”

We will wipe out this scourge of migrant invasion in a strong, decisive campaign.

His ominous message about deportation forces, curfews, and “wiping out this scourge of migrant invasion” was being broadcast nationwide.

Vivian was a whisper of a girl. About half my width and always skulking around in a frown.

Vivian’s sidekick, Naomi, was equally wispy and self-centered, only I guess she had actually listened to the President’s announcement.

I could feel Kenna seething next to me too, her breath sharp and fast.

The divot from a broken piece of linoleum on the floor, the brown stain on the far wall from a long-ago soda spill, the sound of Kenna muttering to herself.