GBJ Fiction

The Virgin of Guadalupe

by Gerard “Gerry” Carty

o you believe in miracles? There was a 23rd Annual Fiction time when I did not and a time when I Writing Competition was not sure. The Editorial Board of the Georgia Bar D Journal is proud to present “ of There are people who consider miracles to be big, important, even cataclysmic events—Moses parting the Guadalupe,” by Gerard “Gerry” Carty of Red Sea as choirs of angels sing. I prefer to think of them Atlanta, as the winner of the Journal’s 23rd as small fortunate happenings. Yet, most dictionaries annual Fiction Writing Competition. will define miracles as events so unusual they are not The purposes of the competition are to ascribable to human power. So, that’s not so small, is it? My friend Kinchil Gutierrez thought that miracles enhance interest in the Journal, to encourage were supernatural, that they must be ascribed to a excellence in writing by members of the Bar heavenly power—even though, at the same time, he and to provide an innovative vehicle for the professed to be a Zapatista and a non-believer. illustration of the life and work of lawyers. I did not know then what a Zapatista was. As in years past, this year’s entries reflected I met him back in the year 2000. I was a new lawyer then, and while my practice was small, my ignorance a wide range of topics and literary styles. In was great, so I signed up almost everything that walked accordance with the competition’s rules, the in the door. One day I would be handling a divorce Editorial Board selected the winning story case, the next I’d be at the immigration office, the next through a process of reading each story at a social security disability hearing. In between, of without knowledge of the author’s identity course, there would be endless hours at or on the Internet—for it seemed that every new case required and then ranking each entry. The story with tons of research. the highest cumulative ranking was selected as As the years went on I grew wiser and whittled the winner. The Editorial Board congratulates this down. Six years later I found that almost all I did Carty and all of the other entrants for their was workers’ compensation and immigration. The one participation and excellent writing. field of law nicely dovetailed into the other. As most of my immigration cases dealt with bringing future

June 2014 33 employers and professionals into papers for a Mexican laborer at this was Mayan, from a tiny village the country and workers’ compen- time are impossible. It would take called San Martín Isolda Blanco, sation involved mostly blue collar a miracle.” near Ocosingo, a city close to the representation, I had a practice Kinchil perked up at the word famous Mayan ruins of Palenque, that covered a wide cross-section “miracle.” in the state of Chiapas in the south of the work force, and with this I “A miracle,” he said. He nodded of Mexico. He had an elementary was content. in approval, as if I had suggested it school education. The language he Kinchil first came to see me as a course of action. was speaking with his son was about a car wreck. He spoke little “Kinchil, I don’t do miracles,” Chontal, one of many Mayan lan- English and was accompanied by I said. “I’m a lawyer, not a saint.” guages still in use and one of sev- his son, Yum. The case was a minor Father and son exchanged con- eral he spoke. He was named after one involving a fender-bender. versation for a moment. I knew a Ah Kinchil, the Mayan god of the Three months later it was settled, little Spanish, having struggled to sun, and his son named after Yum, and he returned to my office to learn it for my immigration prac- the Mayan god of corn. Kinchil told sign a release and pick up a check tice, so I knew enough to know me that the sun and corn were, next for $2,000. He was a man of about that Spanish was not what they to his family, the two most impor- 50 then—short and muscular, with were speaking. tant things in his life. jet black hair and a complexion like Yum turned back to me. He had come to the United States mahogany. His kindly face was “My father says that by the inter- originally by crossing the bridge wrinkled and wizened beyond its cession of the Virgin of Guadalupe over the Rio Grande, between years by the power of the sun. you will get him papers.” Matamoros and Brownsville, When I gave him his check he “I thought your father was a Texas, making this passage in the pushed it back across the table nonbeliever,” I said. back of a truck, buried under sev- to me and turning to his son, he “He believes in the Virgin of eral tons of milled sorghum with a raised his eyebrows. Guadalupe.” plastic breathing tube leading out “My father wants you to do one I thought for a moment. How of it to a hole in the side panel. more thing for him,” Yum said. do you frame legal advice at a He had returned to Chiapas only “He’s illegal. You probably know moment like this? three times in the 10-year period that, so he wants you to get him his “Yum, I’m not trying to be flip following—each time by taking a papers.” or disrespectful, but please tell bus to Albuquerque, New Mexico, Yum almost always spoke for your dad that immigration won’t then a second bus to the border, Kinchil. He was in his late 20s then. respond to intercessions by the then making contact with a coy- I knew him about as well as I Virgin of Guadalupe. At the pres- ote—the (questionably) human knew the father, as he accompanied ent time, he would need labor certi- kind—to lead him across to Ciudad his dad each time he came to my fication, which is only given when Juárez. Once in that city he hitched office. At one time he too had been there’s a scarcity of workers for a his way south to his village, a undocumented but he had obtained particular job. As you know, there journey that took him about three a graduate business degree and got are many landscapers out there.” weeks. The return journey took permission to work and now he Yum spoke to his dad again, him as long. was marrying a girl from Norcross; then turned back to me. When they left my office I went so he had covered his bases and a “He wants you to try.” back to my chair behind the desk green card would be coming to him I sighed. and sat staring at the $500 check soon. He ran a food distribution “Yum, do you understand the son had written to me. The company and was one of my suc- how difficult it will be? Perhaps price of happiness, it seemed. I cessful immigration cases. Kinchil, impossible.” hated taking money from people on the other hand, remained “I understand,” Yum said, “but when I had no confidence that I undocumented, worked as a gar- if you try it will make him happy.” could help them. After a while of dener and spoke little English. This I considered for a moment. pondering whether I shouldn’t just was not unusual. He was the man “All right,” I said. I pushed the write Kinchil an apologetic letter operating the leaf blower, the man $2,000 check back across the desk and enclose the check, I decided to who knelt in the flower beds in the to him. “Give me a retainer of $500 at least start the process. When it office parks. Having no opportu- and I’ll look into it. Let me get failed, I would send him his money nity for conversation, he had little some forms for him to sign and I’ll back. I took a new file folder from opportunity to learn. get the information I need.” the drawer and put the sheets of I pushed the check back across By the time they left the office paper with Kinchil’s information the table to him. I knew a lot more about Kinchil and the $500 check into it. On a yel- “I don’t mean to be demeaning,” Gutierrez, more than I had needed low post-it note I wrote “Miracle I said, “but the chances of getting to know for his car wreck case. He File” and attached it to the file. I

34 Georgia Bar Journal left the file on the corner of the I envied Kinchil in the strength $1,500?” I asked her. “What could desk where it waited to be formally of his belief no matter how irratio- you possibly get for that?” opened by my secretary. nal it seemed to me. For that alone She shrugged. That night I was putting my I would work hard to get him “I’m a teacher,” she said, “not a kids to bed. I had a Rand McNally results. Perhaps I was beginning to realtor.” World Atlas which served most believe in miracles. Which reminded me of my state- of its natural life as a coffee table ment to Kinchil: “I’m a lawyer, not book, but often the kids would a saint.” beg me to open it and go through In the weeks that followed I countries with them, telling them researched his case thoroughly but about the places and people, such could find no grounds to support For some reason, I couldn’t let as I knew. After I put them to bed his immigration petition. this go. I kept the classified ad and that night I kept the atlas open and This is when the first miracle next day I stopped in at one of the turned to the United States map. began to happen. large law firms higher up in my With my fingers I traced Kinchil’s I was at the time attend- office building to talk to a friend. journey to Ciudad Juárez, across ing Spanish classes at the Latin I knew they had a diverse practice the border. Then I turned the pages American Association on Buford and even a few Mexican lawyers. to old Mexico and traced the rest of Highway in Atlanta and my teach- I repeated the question to one his journey from there to Ocosingo, er would tear sections from clas- of them. the Chiapan town near where sified ads in Spanish language “I can’t imagine,” she said. She Kinchil’s wife and daughter lived. newspapers and distribute them echoed my question, “What could His little village, San Martín Isolda through the class, then have the you do with a piece of property Blanco, was six miles from there students try to translate them. worth less than $1,500?” and not even on the map. One evening the ad she handed Obviously, my curiosity had The miracle to me at that moment me was from a newspaper called El been contagious, for that afternoon was not that he was able to make Norte, which the teacher explained the same lawyer called me and this journey, but that he had the was from the city of Monterrey, said, “Take a look at the North fortitude to come back. Mexico. I was able to stumble American Free Trade Agreement.” Before I went to bed I did one through a rough translation of the This was easier said than done. more thing—I googled the Virgin ad. Apparently someone was sell- The North American Free Trade of Guadalupe. The legend has it ing small lots of land, fee simple, Agreement, commonly known as that on the morning of Dec. 9, in the United States for $1,500 or NAFTA, is 1,700 pages long. My 1531, Juan Diego, a Mexican peas- less to Mexican citizens. We had a curiosity dissipated. ant, was collecting wood on a hill- lot of to and fro about the meaning Next day, however, it revived, side called Tepeyac in Mexico City of fee simple. The teacher, who was for the Mexican lawyer called me when the Virgin appeared to him. Mexican herself, explained some- again and, with a hint of triumph Juan told the Spanish archbishop what the complicated business of in her voice, explained to me that of Mexico City about this. The land transactions in Mexico. she had a friend who buys and sells archbishop sent him back to the I knew a little about this for I real estate in Monterrey and this hillside to ask the Virgin for a sign, had investigated a scam working friend explained that there is a loop- or miracle, to prove that what Juan in Atlanta at that time, and prob- hole in NAFTA that allows citizens said was true. He returned to the ably to this day, where unscrupu- of the treaty countries, that is, the hill. The Virgin appeared to him lous notary publics would gouge United States, Canada and Mexico, again and told him to gather flow- Mexican migrant workers several to obtain visas from each other to ers. He collected them in his cloak hundred dollars to notarize docu- visit their investment properties. or tilma and when he laid this out ments. The workers rarely com- Rich folks from Monterrey, she for the archbishop they saw that plained because they believed a said, had latched on to this seeming none of the flowers were native to notary in the United States was loophole and began buying small Mexico, nor were they flowers that the same as a notario in Mexico, freehold properties in the U.S., allow- would bloom in December. They when in fact a notario was more ing them to get a visa quickly and fell from the tilma to the floor, and akin to a real estate closing law- with little fuss. This lawyer agreed there on the surface of the fabric yer and performed a far more with me that a freehold property was the image of the Virgin of substantial service than a notary for less than $1,500 was taking it to Guadalupe. This tilma is on show public, one that was worthy of extremes. They were typically buy- in the Basilica of Our Lady of their fee. ing $80,000 foreclosure properties Guadalupe in Mexico City and has “Why would anyone want to or raw land along the Texas border, more visitors than any Christian buy a fee simple piece of land but the language seemed to indi- shrine worldwide. in the United States for less than cate that there was no downward

June 2014 35 limit to the value of the property Our $7,000 share became worth less “Kinchil, listen, by working here you owned. than $1,000. This seemed to happen you’re breaking the law. The only almost overnight and I never gave thing this visa changes is the ease it much thought, for we continued by which you can come and go. It Now, I don’t know for sure if to enjoy the ranch and we felt that doesn’t give you the right to work. there ever was such a loophole in more owners would mean more If you get caught working, not only the NAFTA treaty. If there was, I annual assessments coming in, will you be imprisoned and deport- couldn’t find it. But I have to admit which would make for a stronger ed but you will also lose this visa.” I wasn’t prepared to read all 1,700 maintenance budget. “Be happy for me, licenciado,” he pages of the document. But, once That night I dug out my per- said. “Now I can visit my wife and again, I couldn’t let this go. The sonal documents and retrieved the daughter without worrying about “Miracle File” still sitting on my deed I had bought for the “The getting bitten by rattle snakes, coy- desk told me there was more to Triple Creek,” as it was called. Sure otes and scorpions.” pick at here. On a hunch, I called enough, I was staring at a yellow- Yum Gutierrez. ing warranty deed conveying to “Does your father still have the me a “one fifteen hundredth undi- I thought that this was the end of $2,000 check I gave him?” I asked. vided share” of a 1,000-acre tract. it. But it was not. Perhaps miracles “Less the $500 I gave you to This looked like fee simple to me. come in small doses. As my chil- open his immigration case,” Yum I called Yum. dren grew older, weekends were said. “Why?” “Fifteen hundred dollars is a lot taken up with soccer, baseball “Ask him to hold on to it. Let me of money for my father to spend on leagues and birthday parties and call you back.” something as frivolous as a share in years passed without us visiting I put the phone down and a dude ranch,” he said. the ranch. We did not return there thought: he has exactly $1,500; “If this works, your dad won’t until the summer of 2006. As we could this be an omen? have to make that trip through entered its gates I was struck by Ciudad Juárez any more—that’s a how particularly well-cared for it 5,000-mile journey which probably looked. I figured all It had been right under my nose costs him more than $1,500 each flowing in from the spike in shares all along. In the latter part of the time he does it.” being sold had helped but later 1990s, when my children were very There was silence on the line as that day, as we sat by the pool, we small, my wife and I purchased a Yum thought about it. Eventually began to hear there was another share in a “dude ranch” just out- he said, “Frankly, I don’t think reason for this renaissance. side Helen, Georgia. There were he has it in him to make that trip “There’s this Mexican dude who 1,500 shares to the thousand-acre again. What if this doesn’t work?” bought in a couple of years ago,” property. It had some cabins and “Expect a miracle,” I said. one of my co-owners told me, as a stable of about 30 horses, a club- Next day he called me back. He we sat by the pool. “He’s a whiz house and a swimming pool. We had bought a share in his dad’s with the horses and knows every- thought it would be good for the name for $1,150 from the bank- thing about running a stable and kids to get out of the city on week- ruptcy trustee. a large ranch. Have you seen the ends and we were right. We rode “Good. Now you tell him to get new entranceway and the banks horses in the cool mornings and back to Mexico and go to the US. of flowers?” swam in the pool on long summer Consulate in Monterrey with his I knew immediately. I found him afternoons. We barbecued at night deed and apply for a visa.” at the stables later that day. and slept in the rustic cabins. My “I thought I would see you daughter learned to walk on the here before, licenciado.” Kinchil parquet dance floor of the club- Two months passed. I didn’t beamed at me. His English had house; my son met the first crush hear from either of them. Then improved tremendously. He told of his life there. one day I came to the office to find me his daughter had made the We paid about $7,000 at the time them both waiting for me. Kinchil border crossing and was now for our share of this ranch and could barely restrain himself from working in Atlanta. With both considered it money well spent as showing me his new visa. his children working, they had we used it frequently. But as the “Now you should believe in mir- been able to help him reduce his millennium approached the prop- acles,” he said, “and in the Virgin working hours. erty’s developer went bust before of Guadalupe.” “I spend most weekends at the the project sold out. The bankrupt- I didn’t want to pour cold water ranch. They know so little about cy trustee took possession of the on the heat of his enthusiasm but animals and plants. When I speak 600 unsold shares and began to sell I felt as his lawyer I should bring to the horses and the flowers,”—he them for whatever he could get. him back to earth. hesitated and took a deep breath—

36 Georgia Bar Journal ”it’s good for my soul. Do you “You could apply for him,” I was shocked. I hoped I’d heard understand this?” I said. “As a farm hand he has wrong. I jumped up and ran out to I understood this completely. no chance of getting permission the reception area. Though I was better at speaking to to work. As a ranch manager he “What happened?” people than to horses and flowers I might have.” “He was bush-hogging the creek had often come to this ranch, wish- The owners’ association bank at the ranch,” Yum said. ing I could do what Kinchil was sponsored him. They flooded “Trying to clear a beaver dam. now doing. Immigration with letters of sup- He should have known better. He As I left the stable, I met the port, financial and otherwise. They tried to do it with a front-end load- chairman of the ranch own- advertised for a ranch manager er. The bucket got caught under ers’ association. “I understand within a 100-mile radius of Helen some heavy branches. When he Kinchil’s a friend of yours,” he and found no one who fit the bill. tried to lift them the tractor flipped said. “I wish we could hire him. Four months later Kinchil got his sideways on top of him. It pinned He says you’ve helped him in the labor classification. Soon he had his him under the water. At this time past. Is there anything you can green card. of year the river is flowing fast and do?” high. He drowned.” I said no. I had exhausted all “Yum, I am so sorry. Is there avenues. But one day, a few weeks This is an end. But sadly, this is anything I can do?” later after giving it a lot of thought, also a beginning. “There is,” he said. “I under- I called the chairman. stand that he might be entitled— “We’re more interested in hir- his widow and children might be ing him than ever,” he said. “He’s Labor Day of 2006 was the last entitled—to workers’ compen- totally transformed the ranch this day of that year we went to the sation benefits—not me, but the summer and saved us thousands of ranch. I did not see or hear from young ones.” dollars. He even saved two horses Kinchil or Yum until spring of the I led him to my office. from dying of colic.” following year. “I didn’t know there were The ranch hands who worked One morning in my office my young ones? I thought just you there were in awe of his skills, new receptionist buzzed me and and your sister.” he said. said, “There’s someone here to see “Since you got him the visa he “So, why don’t you hire him as you. He doesn’t have an appoint- goes back—went back—to Chiapas ranch manager?” I asked. I knew ment. A Mr. Gutierrez.” in January and returned in late they didn’t have one. The commit- I was trying to get out to a hearing. February. Four times in four years. tee ran everything—and not very “Father or son?” I asked. Nine months after each visit I have well, one of the reasons there had I could hear her asking, and a new brother or sister at home. been much to improve. then I heard a soft voice in the That visa you got him, it’s like “What about his papers?” he background say, “My father is a—what do you gringos call it—a asked. dead.” fertility doll.”

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June 2014 37 Yum laughed through his grief “I was thinking you,” he said. and covered his mouth and nose. The news was not good when “You’re the lawyer. Didn’t you say There was a box of Kleenex on the he returned. The birth certifi- once you liked Mexico?” table. I pulled a few sheets and cates and the records for the little “Yum, I haven’t been farther handed them to him. He blew at community of San Martín Isolda than Cancún.” his nose and wiped his eyes before Blanco, population 80, were kept Yum laughed. “Cancún is going on. by a junta in the village. Yum had Mexico. Just not the Mexico you’ll “Maybe you’re the fertility doll. I tried to get them from the junta be going to.” should blame you, you know.” without success. I did not under- I smiled. stand any of this. Incredibly, the “His widow and your brothers explanation went back to NAFTA. It was madness, I know this and sisters should be entitled to The day NAFTA was signed the now. I knew it then. But I could survivor benefits,” I said quietly. price of Chiapan corn dropped not let this go and no amount of “I’ll see what I can do.” to near nothing. With this, the persuasion could get Yum to make “I hope you’re right. Things are livelihood of Chiapan farmers, . I had serious misgivings very tough in Chiapas right now. Kinchil among them, disappeared. about whether it was even worth it. My father only began to save a little An armed insurgence broke out After all, if the insurance company money when he started working at around Ocosingo and in many didn’t accept that the birth certifi- The Triple Creek. Before that he sent other parts of Chiapas, includ- cates were genuine, we would still $150 dollars a week Western Union ing the village of San Martín have hurdles to jump, proof-wise. to my mom and another $50 was Isolda Blanco. This was led by But that night I told myself, some what he had to live on. You know Subcommandante Marcos, the lawyers in Atlanta will regularly that little house by the stables at the charismatic leader of the EZLN— fly to L.A. for a deposition, so why ranch? They gave it to him free and the Zapatista movement. should I not travel the same dis- he was fixing it up and working on I remembered this for it made tance in this case? my mom’s green card and expect- news headlines around the world It took me 14 hours and two ing it any day. But now?” at the time. But I thought it had all planes to get to Ocosingo. I took a He shrugged and shook his head. blown over years before. hotel room for the night. Yum had “I promise you I’ll do what I This conflict continued, Yum given me the name of a local priest can,” I said. told me, and led up to the San in San Martín Isolda Blanco— Andrés Accords in 2001, a treaty Father Dominic—who spoke between the Mexican government English, Spanish and a variety of I filed the claim with the State and the Zapatistas. This gave auton- Mayan languages. Board of Workers’ Compensation omy of sorts to areas of Mayan Next morning I drove my rental and got a call shortly thereafter lands and they were then admin- car to San Martín Isolda Blanco from the insurance company’s istered by juntas. “So the docu- over roads barely identifiable as lawyer. ments you need are in the hands such. Yum had suggested I find “Look,” he said, “this all seems of the junta known as the Junta del Father Dominic first and he would relatively straightforward. As soon Buen Gobierno. Committee for Good take me to meet his mother as she as we get the proof of marriage and Government,” he said. spoke no English and very little the birth certificates of the kids, we “So, how do I get them?” Spanish. As I came over the hill into can hash things out.” “Look,” Yum said, “The essence the little town, I stopped to read a I called Yum and we discussed of Mayan self-government is to be sign on a roadside fence. It said how we should set about getting left alone. Mostly from Mexican “Está usted en territorio Zapatista the necessary documentation. government interference but also en rebelda. Aquí manda el pueblo y “My mom and dad were never from foreign interference. So a el gobierno obedece.” Even with my married,” he said. request from us for documents is meager Spanish I figured this out Ouch. Kinchil was a man who likely to be ignored.” to mean “you are in Zapatista ter- had not believed in formalities. I considered this. ritory in rebellion. Here the people “Does that mean she can’t get “Someone will have to go get command and the government obeys.” anything?” he asked. them,” he said. As Yum had said, this was the “No. She should be able to get “Well, you’re the ‘someone,’” I other Mexico. the same benefits for the children. said, after a moment. “How long San Martín Isolda Blanco con- We still need documentation. Birth will it take you?” sisted of no more than 30 dwell- certificates for a start.” “It can’t be me. I can’t take time ings, most of which were square “I’ll look into it,” he said and off to go to Chiapas. This is my huts about six feet high, built from I agreed to meet with him the busiest time of year.” some kind of straight, thick cane, following week. “Well, who then?” I asked. set perpendicularly and tight-

38 Georgia Bar Journal ly woven with palm fronds to form walls. Each structure had a thatched roof. There were a few whitewashed cinderblock build- ings. There was one larger struc- ture shaped like a church that sat on a little hill. As I passed it I noted the sign on the door, three letters painted in white—”JGB.” The good government committee? Father Dominic’s house was at the end of the main street on the left of a sign that read “Taller Mecánico”—mechanic’s workshop. The temperature was in the high 90s. The priest was young, perhaps in his 20s. I had expected an older man. He listened to my story. He had already been informed gener- ally of the issue, he said, by the Señora Gutierrez, but he had no sway with the local junta. He had arrived only two months before from San Cristóbal de las Casas, from the seminary, as the old priest, Father Benito, had died. Nothing he said was reassuring. There had been a church—that was the building with the “JGB” sign on it. It had been shut down in the initial throes of the Zapatista rebellion and never opened up again. Now it was “city hall.” He took me to the Gutierrez home. There was no need to drive. We walked down the main street dodging chickens and the occa- sional donkey. Though the town on mats side by side, asleep in front Mexican army came into these vil- was dirt poor it was curiously of a 36-inch LG TV on which was lages with the intention of drafting bright and pretty. There were no playing Sesame Street. The Cookie every Mayan boy who came of age. cars. The entrance to each little Monster spoke in Spanish. On a This is classic counter-insurgency. house was surrounded by vines of small table sat a baseball cap with But the army also has a strict rule coral flower—jacaranda, bougain- an Atlanta Braves logo—other than that no one without documenta- villea, lantana. the children, the only evidence of tion can join it. Father Benito was a The Gutierrez home had a small Kinchil having been here. resourceful man. The records disap- courtyard. As we entered we saw The priest introduced me to peared. That way, no boy from here a child of about five years of age, Kinchil’s widow. She stopped feed- would ever join the Mexican army.” swinging in a tire swing from a tree. ing the child and placed him face Father Dominic sighed and A dog and a goat slept underneath down across her lap and patted looked down. his swinging feet. The priest said his back. He slept quietly, burp- “You see, even here we are something to him and he answered ing occasionally. Priest and widow undocumented.” back. I didn’t catch any of it. spoke for some time in a local lan- “We can go in,” the priest said. guage. Then he turned to me and There was no door, just a curtain said, “Father Benito baptized all I went back to my hotel in of paisley patterned fabric. The four children—in fact, all six chil- Ocosingo. I found a little Internet woman in the corner did not get up dren including Yum, and several café as my phone was not work- from her seat. She was breast-feed- years ago, after the initial rebellion ing there, and I sent Yum an email ing a child. Two other children lay with Subcommandante Marcos, the explaining the problem. There

June 2014 39 more and more military vehicles. At one point, as I stopped and moved aside to let some of them pass, I noticed on either side of the road the forests were full of soldiers lay- ing rolls of barbed wire. For the first time I thought, wouldn’t it be wiser to head in direction? I found Father Dominic in the garden of his little house. He was celebrating Mass before a makeshift altar for about six women. I waited at the back till it was over. His incantations were drowned out by the growl of engines and the cries of soldiers. Diesel fumes stunk up the air of what the day before had been a sweet smelling town. “What is going on?” I asked him, when he had finished and was removing his vestments. “Last night in the suburb of Buen Samaritano in Ocosingo two sol- wasn’t much to do in Ocosingo. That and responded to in Spanish. I diers were shot and killed as they evening I went back to the Internet caught only a word or two but were trying to evict families from café and checked my emails. There among the words I caught were “la their property. The army flushed was a reply from Yum. All it said iglesia de San Martín Isolda Blanco.” I out whoever did the shooting, and was “Expect a miracle.” had already begun to think of it as they believe they have taken refuge I went back to my hotel room the “junta church.” in the church here. You should and lay on the bed. It was still early What was going on? leave immediately. There will be evening. I turned on the news. I I took longer than usual over my repercussions which will affect this watched CNN for a bit then turned breakfast. The two officers got up entire community. You don’t want to a Mexican station, deciding I and left. My waitress appeared and to get caught up in it.” might as well practice my Spanish presented the check for me to sign. I got in the car and headed back while I was there and gain some- I said to her in my awful Spanish, to Ocosingo. But as I got closer to the thing from my experience. Halfway “What is happening at the church little hill where the church stood— through the local Spanish language of San Martín Isolda Blanco?” I no more than three hundred yards news, I noticed there was some asked her to repeat her response from the priest’s house—the street video of the town of San Martín several times. I had my Spanish was now full of military vehicles and Isolda Blanco. I was intrigued but dictionary with me. I wrote down I was waved over by a uniformed the video came and went as rapidly what I could and I understood her man who shouldered a Kalashnikov as the announcer spoke. I had not to have said, “There is no such AK-47. Like most members of the understood a thing she said. thing as the church of San Martín Mexican Army I had seen, he looked I fell asleep early and woke early. Isolda Blanco. The church in about 14 years of age. At breakfast in the small hotel’s din- that town is called the Church of He examined my passport. ing room while I sat eating my hue- the Virgin of Guadalupe. Right “What are you doing here?” he vos rancheros, two men sat down now it is under siege because of asked. at the table next to me and nodded the insurgency.” When I told him, he said, “You “good day.” They were dressed in I left quickly. The street outside cannot go forward. You have to full military garb and appeared to my hotel was full of soldiers. It go back.” be high ranking officers, consider- seemed the entire population had “I need to get to Ocosingo,” I ing the brass and ribbons on their come out to watch them. There was said. “I don’t know where ‘back’ is.” chests and shoulders. I thought for a a sullen, pervasive silence among “Step out of the car, please.” moment it might be a feast day and the people. Whatever the Mexican He stood back a few paces and there was going to be a parade. As Army was doing here, it was not unshouldered his Kalashnikov in a they ate breakfast, however, lesser welcome. I got my rental car from move that said he did not intend to soldiers came and went delivering the garage and headed back to the ask twice. My heart was beating like missives which they read, discussed village. As I got close I began to see a bass drum in my chest. As I got

40 Georgia Bar Journal out, a tank trundled up alongside of There was no response. village came out and began to help my car. This increased my alarm for There followed a thunderous gather up the documents. the road was narrow and I was now bang. The entire tank rig jumped “You never told me the real locked into this 18-inch space with a about six inches off the ground and name of this church was the Virgin boy with a Kalashnikov. its shell made a whizzing sound. of Guadalupe.” Like many lawyers, I have often The tank hit the ground with a “What does that matter?” he stopped in the middle of doing thud, shaking it like an earth trem- asked. something to ask myself, “When or and our armored vehicle shud- “It depends,” I said. I took the bar exam, did I think dered and rocked. “On what?” I would be doing this particular I didn’t see where the shell land- “On whether you believe in thing in pursuit of my profession?” ed. It missed the church. Perhaps miracles.” At this moment, if my mind had it was meant to. The man with the not been in a tizzy, I might have bullhorn spoke again. Thirty sec- asked it again. onds later another deafening bang. When I showed up next day The tank came to a stop. I could This time the tank bounced back, not at my office with all four birth feel the heat pulsing from it and felt up, and almost hit us. The tower dis- certificates, Yum called to say sickened by its diesel fumes mingled appeared in a sky-high explosion of his mother’s green card had just with the raw earth smell kicked up gray concrete and dust. Its bell came arrived. Miracles apparently come by its iron treads. The soldier began to ground with a series of clangs. in small doses. to poke at my calf with the muzzle But there was something else, The Ocosingo insurgency of his AK-47. “Move,” he said. He something more. Papers. Thousands took place on Aug. 18, 2007. The prodded me to an armored vehicle of sheets of paper floating high in Señora Gutierrez came to Atlanta of some sort which had pulled in the air then slowly, ever so slowly, fully documented in September. behind my car. like snow, falling to the ground The case resolved at the end of I followed his bidding and got through the fog created by the dust. that month. into it. There were four vacant This branch of the Mexican I thought she would bring her seats in the front directly behind a Army was obviously more inter- children and set up a new life. driver and another man. I got into ested in combat than recruitment. But this was not her intention. She one of these and realized that I did The papers meant nothing to them. came only to testify, she said, for not have my passport. All the rows The SWAT team poured out of our she loved her village and with $550 behind were filled with soldiers in vehicle and rushed what remained a week for 400 weeks, the workers’ full SWAT gear. From this position, of the church. Soon I could hear compensation benefits they were I could see that the soldiers operat- shots being fired. awarded, she could not only raise ing the tank were calibrating its big We watched in silence, for hours her children, she could put them gun. I don’t know how old it was, it seemed, till the activity quieted through college if she remained in but I could hear it cranking as the down and the army began to with- Chiapas. In Atlanta on this amount long barrel rose higher. From my draw. Finally our vehicle was the she could barely sustain them. line of sight, it appeared they were only one left. The soldier who had So, she went back. I never heard aiming it at the church tower. first accosted me pulled open the from her again. From time to time The door shut then opened door and handed me my pass- I hear from Yum. Each year, when again and Father Dominic, with the port. “It was for your own safety, I return to the Triple Creek Ranch, AK-47-toting soldier behind him, señor,” he said. Nice to know. I I am always impressed by how slid into the seat beside me. was still shaking. good it looks. Kinchil’s legacy. “What are you doing here? I “There is a tunnel from the This and the weekly check that told you to leave!” he said through church into the jungle,” Father goes to his children. The aggregate clenched teeth. Dominic said quietly. “There was of small miracles. “They won’t let me,” I said, feel- no one in the church.” I am now a believer. ing like a scolded child. “I’m stuck.” “And you know this—how?” He looked up at the bell tower. “This is my town,” he said. “I Gerard “Gerry” Carty “We should pray that if there is was born here.” is from Glasgow, anyone in the tower, they don’t “You never told me.” Scotland, and has have power to shoot back,” “You never asked. Come, our been practicing he said. glorious army is leaving—let us see plaintiff’s personal Outside, someone began to speak if we can find your children’s birth injury litigation in through a bullhorn. I couldn’t tell if certificates among this litter.” Georgia since 1980. This is the the language was Spanish. As we spoke and walked among “What is he saying?” I asked. the papers with the smell of car- third time he has won the Fiction “He’s giving them 30 seconds.” bide in our noses, the people of the Writing Competition.

June 2014 41