Watching them, I thought about how scary it had all seemed to me, even though I hadn’t actually been the target of the attack. I tried to imagine what it must feel like to have that kind of meanness pointed right at you. Manuel was raking gravel off the grass, where it had been tossed by the cars’ wheels. David was holding a big trash bag in his good arm, and some of the other guys were tossing in broken bottles and the shells left behind from cherry bombs. “At least it wasn’t the migra,” he said. Rafael, who wasn’t doing much, just muttering and gesturing at the debris, nodded in agreement. But Frank looked worried. “Yes,” he said, “but something like this could call the attention of the migra to us.” Luisa was stooping down to pick up little pieces of glass, so I knelt down beside her to help. “What—or who—are the migra?” I asked. Looking tired, Luisa shook her head and waved my question away. I tried again. “Those guys who came here, they’re a bunch of idiots,”
What do You think about Under The Same Sky (2003)?
