Stories, Thoughts and Snippets
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I can t move my leg.
You were in a very bad accident, your leg is in a (cast), but it will heal. Your left eye was damaged beyond our ability to repair. You are in a hospital in Salt Lake City. Do you remember what happened?
I was sleeping in the van, Jorge was driving, and then I was on the ground, and Jorge was screaming. I got him free, but I couldn t wake him up. Is he alive?
I m afraid Jorge passed away before the ambulance arrived at the scene. All four of the other men were killed in the accident, as was a young woman that was driving the car you hit. Her brother is in the hospital as well, though we think he should be well enough to go in a few days. What is your name?
Jesus Monzon.
My name is Jessica Andres, I am a translator for the hospital.
I want to talk to my wife.
You will be allowed to make a call very soon.
What is going to happen to me?
You have no legitimate identification on you, unless you can prove that you are a United States Citizen or a legal alien, when you are well enough you will be turned over to the custody of the INS, and I expect they will deport you. That is the most common course of action.
I twisted in my bandages. I did not know what to do, and I could feel tears welling in my eyes, at least in the one not covered by a bandage.
I need to talk to my wife.
You will be allowed to contact your wife very soon. At this point one of the Asian men spoke to her in English, but I did not understand what he said.
Dr. Chen wants you to know that if you are in discomfort, you can press this button and it will call a nurse for you. If your leg, shoulder, or eye should start to hurt you can just press this button and it will increase your flow of morphine.
I started to pray at that point, to god, the virgin mother, to anything that would listen; I asked for help. I did not know what I was going to do. I wept, for Jorge, for the boys in the van, for my wife and children; what good could I do them now?
I will speak with you again very soon, Mr. Monzon.
When I had been a boy I played in the canals that fed the fields around our town, the fields that my father, and his father before him had worked. My little brother and I would take running leaps from the edge challenging each other to see who could jump the farthest. I always won, but my brother refused to quit. With every leap he would claim he had made it a little further. Further than I had gone last time, but when I followed him in I could always clear him by at least a foot. And he would challenge me again.