He said his name was Juan, but one of the men called him Alberto.
I paid three thousand pesos for his guarantee.
Sixteen of us gathered to met him in the parking lot of the Super Coyote.
He had us each buy two gallons of water, even the children.
At two in the morning he put us the back of his truck like cattle and drove us ninety kilometers west where he said there was a blind spot on the fence.
He carried ladders on the truck.
“Bienvenidos a Los Estados Unidos,” he said.
It only got worse from there.