==A miserable endeavor, indeed! What have I agreed to? To end up in this God-Forsaken hell-hole. A stifling atmosphere that eats deep into your soul. Harvest time comes but once a year, so until all the poppies are sliced and diced, here I'll be. I do have to say, that being a aficionado of spectacular sunsets. the Sonoran Desert has more than its share. The unbearable heat, though takes something away from the pleasure of watching the sinking sun.
How I came to be here, a hundred miles into Mexico, is still not totally clear as to the circumstances. What I remember is faded some what, and all attributed to over indulgence of the spirits. I was minding my own business down in Florida and my very good friend, Chivo Ortiz, stopped by for a visit. I knew right away that this would not turn out well. Chivo likes his drinking, and a hard one to match in that category. Me, being the 'Macho Man', I have portrayed throughout my life, had at least to attempt an even match. I would think, it was only after two days, I can't be sure, Chivo offered me a chance to make a really good score. I can't say how I answered, but I am now in Sonora Mexico just north of Hermosilla. The trip here was a blur and I can't keep from wondering, why we are not in jail, our driving could not have been up to snuff. I do remember El Paso Texas. and Chivo's brother-in-law saying it might not be a good move taking a Gringo to the fields. Chivo assured him that I was what I was, and had no aspirations of making a bust. He made it plain that he would not be held responsible if this didn't go as planned.
As each day passes and I sit in the same spot every night to watch my beloved sunsets, I ask myself,"Is this adventurous life I am trying to lead, all its made out to be?" One day I will die somewhere and no family to mourn me, and most likely no grave to mark my passing. The good side would be,no-one will shed a tear, if they never know. I feel better now.
I will rise in the morning and start my daily routine and dream of my upcoming wealth that soon will be mine. I start at one row and walk backwards slicing the pods vertcally so the opium gum can seep out. The opium gum oozes out during the day, and the hardened gum is collected in the evening. The Campesinos have to remind me often to always go backwards. The opium gum can seep through your clothes and it is possible to receive a lethal dose by the end of the row. The gum is processed into heroin with little more than charcoal fires and a few pots. Someone with very limited experience can make heroin in as little as twelve hours. Chivo tells me our share will be 4 kilos, and at $60,000 a kilo I'll stick it out.
Three days at a field and we move to the next, never stay in one place to long. The rows not harvested are marked for our return, but moving like a thief in the night is the norm for the campesinos of the poppy trade. Each field is cleverly matched to the local landscape and I do not see them until they are pointed out. Yellow and orange bulbs of the 'papaver somniferum' (opium poppy) a man would think stand out like a sore thumb, but surely not the case. Watchouts are stationed on near-by hills with radios as they watch for the 'Federales'. We have encountered several helicopters doing a fly-over and nerves go out to the edge of the abyss. Everyone carries a camo tarp to cover with, until the radio man gives the all clear. Chivo tells me, this is a big organization and we shouldn't have to much heat, unless someone gets greedy. That is great news!, everyone I know who uses drugs gets greedy.
Even myself, am starting to feel that greed, some. The harvest is almost finished and we have a load of gum. Dreams of moving back to St. Croix dancing in my head. Just spending some lazy days on the beach, WOW! I intend to keep watch on any night time movement, somehow, this is too good to be true. I have to trust Chivo though, good friends a long time and all that.
Then the sky falls down on us, when the military trucks appear on the ridge. While I am wondering what is going down, I notice that all my compadres are running full bore in the opposite direction. That must mean run! Where? Oh Shit! I am figuring I have about a mile headstart, but I am on foot and they are trucking it. I am not comfortable with the thought of a Mexican Prison. They just don't make them like America.
I chose the least traveled route, thinking that the force would chase the majority. I headed for a grove of Joshua trees and didn't look behind me. I figured I had 5 minutes to get somewhere to hide. I have discovered that these work boots weren't made for the "Boston Marathon", but they may help me not break my ankle.It's an hour until dark, maybe I can pull this off. I am hearing shots fired off in the south. Oh man!, lots of them! Run! Run! Run!
I have found an arroyo and I don't think the trucks operate in here. I need a place to hide until dark and try to get my heart back in the place it belongs, it seems to be stuck in my throat right now. Getting my 'wits' about me is a priority. I am pretty sure that everyone headed towards the little town and that may be the reason I haven't seen any enemy combatants this way. I might just be walking into 'Hell'. I don't know. I do know I haven't been shot at going this way. That has to be a 'plus'.
My first night out was following the north star, and trying to walk in a straight line. When I felt that I was 20 miles from the field, did I finally try to catch a nap. I am beat, this is ungodly country to traverse at night. A full moon would be a godsend. Questions I have now,how far to the border?, what about water?, maybe a bite to eat? The cold is almost unbearable at night and my clothes are behind me. I am not inclined to go back for them.Its one step at a time from here on.
Four days have passed since that day at the field and I think I may have covered 100 miles, and how much more lies ahead, I don't know. I ran across some farms and begged up some water and a couple tacos. I have always heard, don't drink the water, that does not apply in this situation. Other things I have learned so far, don't sleep without your shoes. Scorpions seem to prefer to sleep inside shoes. The first time I used my shoes for a pillow, taught me that. I was just lucky I shook the sand out in the morning. My shoes don't come off any more unless I am shaking the sand out.
I am into my fifth day and I feel like I should be close to the border, and hoping to cross without a problem. Border Patrol may not understand why an American is sneaking into his own country. A lot of questions would follow. My arm is swollen really bad from getting to close to a Cholla cactus, they don't call them the 'Jumping Cactus' for nothing. My arm is all festered and seeping pus, and turning a rainbow of colors. What else could go wrong, I would find out shortly. I stopped to rest and leaned against a hill and did not realize I was sharing my shade with a rattlesnake. He let me know real quick, that I wasn't welcome. He popped me on the leg, just below the knee, before I knew he was there. Now, my problems are compounded, more than I would wish. I know that it was not a fatal bite, these aren't the boogers we have in Florida. I can expect a really uncomfortable journey from here on out. The sickness that I am going through is nothing like I have ever experienced before and I do not know if it was the snake or the cactus. Each are equally poisoness. But there is always a little humor in everything, if you look for it. I must say, I had to laugh at my situation, crossing the desert with my left arm swelled up the size of a watermelon, and my right leg twice that size. If someone seen me, what would they think?
My mind is starting its own war with my sanity and at times I think I am losing. I am seeing things that don't exist and I keep catching myself talking to someone who isn't there. Could this be what death is like or have I just started down the corridor to the entrance? I would like to lay down, but I have made up my mind, not to die in this god-forsaken third world country. My throat is so swollen that it is hard to get air through it. Each breath is a struggle, each step is a struggle, I need water! Come on!, don't lose it now!
I have found the U.S. border and I am crossing in broad daylight, hoping I get caught. I'll answer all their questions in the hospital. As luck would have it, I crossed the fence without a problem. Now, to find water and a place to lay down. If I wake up, okay!, if not, that's okay too!
I think I have found heaven now, I am walking through farmlands out here in the hard core desert. I must be somewhere near the Colorado River, I know they don't get enough rain around here to produce these kind of farms. I am walking along side of Barry Goldwater Airforce Base to my right side and lush green farms on my left. There are water jugs placed every other road and I am going to get me one! Some may call it stealing, but I am thinking survival. I'll start looking for a place to take a nap and the prospects do not look good. I have to figure out where the hell I am and then I can make my next stupid decision. God Bless America!