Caught

by Michelle Brandenburg (United States of America)

I didn't expect to find USA

We’re driving through endless fields of sunflowers, but I can’t stop myself from crying quiet tears in the back seat. The black metal grid in front of me shields part of my view of the happy flowers, but they’re a reminder to stay positive so we can persevere through this unwelcomed detour. We’re on our first vacation as a newly engaged couple and had been planning our Minneapolis to Seattle trip for months. We couldn’t wait to sightsee on the 40+ hour train ride through the Rocky Mountains, to score a Car2Go outside the train station, to check into our room above the tapas restaurant in Belltown, and to eat our way through the city. But now all I can think is, “What are we going to do? Are we going to be okay? Are we going to be separated? Now what?” We see them approaching but are pretending not to exist. If we don’t acknowledge them nothing is going to happen, right? You see, my fiancé is in process of getting her green card but has been living in the states since she was a young child. Being not quite legal is only a slight complication to everything we’ve been looking forward to. Now only a few steps away, it’s clear the uniformed men are Border Patrol. Caught. “Shoot, shoot, shoot.” We have no choice but to go with them. I wonder, “How long is this going to take? Can we adjust our ticket dates to allow us to get back on the train with as little penalty as possible? Who do I need to talk to in order to make this happen? Be calm. Breathe. It’s going to be okay.” I don’t know what to expect, but I trust my instinct to guide me. After driving for two hours we arrive at the station and line up our belongings on the floor across from his desk. We’re sitting in front of Officer Costa and speaking only when prompted. We’re reading each other’s mind and treading carefully while following each other’s lead. He documented her life story, took her fingerprints, and asked lots of questions. It was a long day because government processing is slow on Saturdays. While we are playing the waiting game for her to be cleared to leave, I’m making arrangements to get back on the train and adjusting the rest of the details of our plans. I walk into the other room while I’m on my phone and eventually turn around to see the officer beckoning me back to where I was sitting. “Ah,” I realize, “He’s just doing his job.” I sit back down. In my head I’m remembering, “Be calm. Breathe. It’s going to be okay.” The rest of the officers returned from an outing that involved a car running into a watery ditch and some crazy chase. They each did double take at us, surprised to see two women quietly reading magazines in front of Costa. We were finally allowed to leave but it was late. Normally, we would have to pay for a ride back to the city, but Costa insisted on driving us. We stopped somewhere halfway, and a car started to approach. I panicked, “Now what!?” It was only Costa’s wife bringing him sushi in the middle of the fields of hope and kindness. Even though the sun was setting, there was light instead of fear. I didn’t expect to find the officers to be so human, so filled with empathy and humor. I thought the worst was going to happen. I thought she was going to be brutally yanked away from me. I thought I would never see her again. Instead, we found compassion among open minds. I could have never predicted the things that happened between sunrise and sunset the day our plans were completely derailed. But we did make it to Seattle, and even though we had one less day to explore there were a lot of firsts. I tried dim sum and hot pot, pretended to lick the gum wall, played air guitar with Jimi Hendrix, fell in love with a smart octopus, and spent some time in a jail cell with my future wife.