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was weak. I had to be the strong one. After all, I was the one with the vision of the Virgin—now was not the time to doubt myself. I felt adrenaline course through my body.
    His tone irritated me. “Nos estamos yendo,” I said. I was determined to help us get away fast. Besides, didn’t he owe us something for not stopping, not even once?
    Trouble stirred in my stomach. The way he balled his fists. The glare of his eye.
    He pointed at Mama. “Look, lady, it’s one thing to be crazy enough to come this way, but I never would have agreed with having a girl back here.”
    His words sounded confusing, but I got the point that he was angry. Maybe he thought we cheated him? We were the ones who almost died. He was supposed to stop and give us air.
    He glanced in the corner where Mama had vomited. I peed in the other corner halfway through the trip because there was a small crack. Although the pee was gone, the smell remained.
    He pointed at us with a cruel finger. “Look, youcrazy wetbacks, I’m fixing to deliver this fruit to a grocery store. You want to ruin my load? You’re gonna have to pay extra for all of this, and you definitely have to pay extra for her.”
    He continued to push into the truck. An opening cleared for us to escape.
    With the sound of a threat, Mama’s strength struggled to return. She cleared her throat. I pushed her and the suitcase toward the opening of the truck.
    â€œÂ¿Estaba tratando de matarnos?” My voice pitched like a wild dog. I found a bulge in the side of the suitcase. Grandma must have packed us one of her stink candles.
    Mama could barely walk and I pulled frantically at the suitcase. The pallets tripped our every step. “Air! Water!” I pointed my finger at him, just to let him know that I was serious. How many times had I said this? I would not let this man continue his quest to kill us.
    He sneered at my accusation. “Look kid, I don’t know what they told you, but I always get paid something on this end. No para. Just be lucky you’re here and I don’t drop you in front of the police and tell them you stowed away in the back of the truck.”
    A word that sounded familiar. Police . He wanted to stop and call the police.
    Worse than death would be the police. We could not go to jail.
    Mama swore at the driver and stumbled. She melted stomach-first into a box of mangoes. I pulled at her wrist.
    The trucker stuck out his hand and spoke to me in broken Spanish. “More pesos .”
    â€œNo. No. No.” I stood in front of the suitcase and slipped my hand into the pocket and around the candle.
    I tried to remember the few English words Hector taught me. He practiced his words with the commercials from TV.
    â€œ No para. No mas dinero. No money.” The money belt hidden around my waist felt like a concrete block. I made my legs obey the thoughts in my head. We had to get out of the truck fast.
    The driver grabbed at Mama, but instead he got me. My hair stretched painfully away from my scalp. This was no school yard fight. I flailed my arms and absorbed the smell of his sweaty shirt until my feet left the ground. I was being pulled toward him over the boxes.
    With my free hand, I threw the candle at him with all of my might. Without time to think, I turned and sunk my teeth into his arm until his salty blood ran down my chin. I pushed my arms with every ounce of my strength against his thumbs. Pain cleaved through my hands as I hit his face and throat over and over again.
    All I could hear was Grandma’s voice in my head. Get them in the vulnerable spots. Without eyes, they cannot chase you .
    I grasped for the sockets and pushed my fingers in.
    He jerked hard and the hair ripped from my head. My jaw tightened and he screamed. I squirmed out of his reach and out of the trailer.
    He let go and clapped his own hands over his eyes. Bits of candle clung to the side of his head, and blood dripped from his