Crossing the Wire, by Will Hobbs; HarperCollins Publishers: New York, 2006; $16.99 When his father died years ago trying to cross the Arizona border, fifteen-year-old Victor Flores dropped out of school and started to plant corn to support his mother and five younger siblings. After he gradually came out of the grief of his father’s death, more problems came up for Victor. Nobody bought Mexican corn anymore, because American corn planted with chemical fertilizers and pesticides was much more affordable. One day Victor realized, if he continued to plant corn his family would have to starve. He decided to risk his life and cross the Mexican border and go to the United States like the other men in his village. His journey was extremely precarious and deadly. Victor experienced a lot of things that he had never imagined before. First, he broke his scalp by jumping off a dashing train. Then he experienced starvation, running out of food in the middle of the desert. His guide that he met got caught by border patrol. Surprisingly, Victor met his best friend in a soup kitchen, Rico, who left for El Norte several weeks before him. Victor even carried drugs for the drug smugglers without knowing it. And worst of all, he experienced walking for hours and hours under the blazing sun— chapped lips, dried mouth, completely dehydrated, his throat felt like it was on fire when he had to swallow. After eleven weeks, everything was worth it, he finally crossed and found a job. This book completely reversed my opinion on illegal immigrants. Before I read this book, I thought that, while the legal immigrants, like my parents, came to the U.S. as college students and waited for ten years to get a green card, the illegal immigrants did not go through the process of naturalization and it was effortless for them to get to the United States. In my head, I imagined that all they had to do was to run for a couple of hours and BAM! they are in the U.S. After reading this book, I felt ashamed and apologetic for what I had thought before. Nobody wants to leave their family and go to a completely unfamiliar country that they have never been to before. Like Victor, he did not want to come to the United States, but there was a burden on his back, to support his family. Also, the journey was deadly. People cannot imagine how many people died on their journey trying to cross the border. People have died because of starvation, some ran out of water, some died because of the heat, and some were even shot by border patrol. Only a few of the determined and the fortunate people have succeeded. Although the journey was hard, that does not mean it is not the right thing to do. From this book, I learned to see the world with other people’s eyes. After reading this book, I also truly felt sympathetic for people like Victor in real life. At the same time, I also learned to be thankful and to treasure the smallest things beside me, like going to school legally, not worrying about being deported, and having the ability to communicate with others using English. Crossing the Wire is a breathtaking book. I loved the characters and the story. This book is full of exciting adventures. I finished the book in just two days. Crossing the Wire is one of my favorite books and I hope you can read it too! Sarah Gu, 13McLean, Virginia
September/October 2016
Seeing in the Dark
It was late summer. The air was thick and humid. Elizabeth lay on her bed, even though the sun had been up for hours. Every day she chose a different place to zone out—her beanbag chair, the couch, a chair at the dining room table. It didn’t make much difference. Every night she cried herself to sleep, soaking her pillow, which was already stiff with tears. She didn’t even bother to turn it over to the fresh side. Every day the sun rose, but it couldn’t light her world now that her mother was gone. Elizabeth stared at the ceiling. When she was little, she and her mom used to lie on their backs, finding shapes in the ceiling plaster and making up stories about them. She picked them out now—the lion, the goat, the spaceship, the otter, the dragon, the wine glass—but they didn’t mean anything anymore. They were just splotches of plaster. It was hot. Sweltering, actually. The hot air pressed on Elizabeth’s lungs, making it hard to breathe. At last she couldn’t stand it anymore—the shapes on the ceiling, the heat, the awful, muffled stillness of the house, the endless hours, passing unnoticed. She jumped off her bed and ran down the stairs and out the front door. She paused on the doorstep, listening to the cicadas chirping in the sleepy silence. A mail truck was turning the corner at the end of her street. She ran to the mailbox, not really expecting to find anything interesting but needing something to do. “Watch out!” Elizabeth screamed. “Watch out!” Elizabeth screamed Back in the house, she flipped through the mail, a lump forming in her throat when she saw that several letters were addressed to Alice Benson, her mother. Most of it was for her dad, but one envelope had her name on it. She almost smiled when she saw the stamp with the queen’s profile on it. The letter was from her brother, James, who was in England for the summer. Elizabeth tore the letter open and read: Dear Elizabeth, I couldn’t believe it when I heard that Mom had been killed in a car crash. I miss you and Dad like crazy. Hang in there, Liz. I know this must be really hard for you. It is for me. Tell Dad I’m coming home on the eighteenth. See you soon. Love, Jimmy The next day, when Elizabeth got up, she thought, Seven days since it happened. She was surprised she’d lasted this long. After eating breakfast with her dad, who barely acknowledged her presence before shutting himself in his office for the day, Elizabeth decided to take a walk. The sun hadn’t had time to heat everything up yet, so it was almost cool as she started down her street. Half an hour later, she had walked further than she ever had before, to a part of town she’d only seen from the window of a car. The road sloped down, and as Elizabeth started down the hill, the door of a yellow house opened and a girl and a dog came out. The girl seemed to be blind—she gripped the dog’s harness and walked cautiously as she started up the hill toward Elizabeth. Elizabeth was so fascinated that she almost didn’t hear the whir of a bike tire. Almost. When she looked up, she saw a man on a bike coasting swiftly down the hill toward the blind girl. Elizabeth expected him to steer clear of the girl and her dog, but the man was listening to music and didn’t see her. “Watch out!” Elizabeth screamed. The girl looked up, confused. Her dog barked and tried to pull her out of the way. The biker looked up but it was too late for him to change course. He was going to crash! Without thinking, Elizabeth leapt into the bike’s path. She felt it collide with her body, knocking her down on the rough asphalt. Her head slammed against the ground and she blacked out. * * * The first thing she noticed when she woke up was the music. It was piano music and at first she thought it was her mom playing. But she had never heard this song before. All the songs her mom used to play were worn into her brain so that she could easily recognize them. She opened her eyes. She was lying on a cream-colored sofa and it was the blind girl playing the piano, not her mom. Elizabeth tried to raise herself on her elbows, but her head was throbbing and she fell back on the pillows with a groan. The girl stopped playing. “Mom, she’s awake!” she called and then hurried over and knelt next to the sofa. She moved so easily through the room that Elizabeth wondered it she was really blind. Just then, a tall woman with long blond hair like her daughter’s hurried in, holding an ice pack. “How are you feeling?” she asked. “Lousy,” muttered Elizabeth. The woman gently laid the ice pack against Elizabeth’s head. “My name is Maria Belmont. This is my daughter, Ramona.” “What happened?” asked Elizabeth. “I just remember jumping in front of the bike and then…” Maria smiled. “Yes, the biker said so. He was quite worked up. Didn’t even say sorry. He seemed to think it was your fault you got hit. At least he helped me carry you in here.” “I had to jump in front of him, otherwise he would have hit her,” Elizabeth explained, gesturing to Ramona. Ramona laughed. “Are you always this noble? The biker wouldn’t have hurt me any worse than he hurt you.” Elizabeth giggled. “I guess you’re right,” she admitted. “But I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing,” she added. “It wouldn’t be fair.” Ramona laughed again. “So what’s your name anyway, Miss Nobleness?” “Elizabeth.” “Should I call your parents?” asked Maria. “They might be worried…” “No,” said Elizabeth quickly. “I’m sure they’re not.” “All right,” said Maria
Home Plate
Ah, Baseball! My favorite sport. I feel the excitement and adrenalin running through me As we begin the game. I’m in my favorite position, The catcher’s spot, With the batter right beside me. I sign the pitch to the pitcher And the pitcher winds up. I see the ball sailing toward me And I hear the thud of the ball in my mitt. But wait, what’s this? A man stealing second? I must throw him out! I pop up as quick as I can, To zap the ball to the second baseman. The throw, The slide, The tag. And the umpire calls it… OUT! Hooray! As I squat down for the next pitch, I smile and think, “This is where I belong, Right behind Home Plate.” Ross Mangels, 11Skopje, Macedonia
