When Cam asked about his family, Ciro brightened luminously like a child who'd just brought a prized toy into school to share with his peers. "Yes, my wonderful mamá and two little hermanas, Gabriela and Alicia." Ready to confide in her about his devastating failure, he lifted up his bag, now wearing an expression hardly different from a scolded puppy's. But when she called out into the impenetrable woods beyond, he slowly lowered it back to his side. "Is Noah your hermano...brother?"“I understand,” Cam said, turning over the exotic image in her mind of people selling exotic fruit on the street, or in a market. So different from buying produce from Walmart or Meijer, so exotic. But she could figure out from the context of his description what he was saying, about Mexico’s darker side, even though the only Spanish she knew was ‘no’ and ‘hola.’ That brought to mind the pictures of corruption that Central America was currently dealing with. Actually, it was harder to decipher the thick accent than figure out what the Spanish words meant.
As cool as Mexico may be, she certainly didn’t want to live there. “Mexico sure is beautiful, but that must be scary. Do you have a family back home?”
She turned her head and screamed “NOAH!” for good measure.