The "J" Amendment

The other two men moved quickly away and started to herd the men into the back of the semi.  As each man was about to enter the truck, the drivers asked them for the money they were supposed to have brought with them.  Each payment was counted to make sure the amount was right.  It was a cool evening, but the inside of the truck was stifling.  As the bodies began to compact inside, one could hardly breath.  Jesus had been one of the first on board, and as he was shoved forward, he regretted having made this commitment and wanted to leave.  It was too late, he was trapped and a victim of his own fate.  The doors of the truck were slammed closed, and locked into place.

            The truck engine coughed, then became a roar as the driver shifted it into gear and began to inch forward picking up speed rapidly.  The men tried to sit down, but there was no room.  It was hard to tell which direction the truck was moving, but Jesus sensed it was headed north toward the United States border.  As the mass of human flesh pressed against him, Jesus prayed for the memory of his mother and father.  He asked for their forgiveness, and for not being the religious person they had wanted him to be.  His father had hoped that Jesus would become a priest like his brother, but that was not in the deck of cards life dealt him.

            After what seemed like days, the truck came to an abrupt halt.  The inside of the semi took on the smell of gasoline, meaning the rig had stopped to refuel before continuing its journey.  Again, the semi moved, each man relieved that soon they would reach their destination and be free to work at a good job, to save some money, and to have their families join them in the land of opportunity.  The second stop was an ominous one.  A hush filled the deadened space with an eerie aura of foreboding.  The shell of the trailer body was beginning to heat up, the temperature inside rising rapidly.  The men inside were becoming more and more agitated as time passed.  Jesus reach for his water bottle to alleviate his thirst when another man withdrew a knife from his boot and pressed it against Jesus’ throat.

            “Give me your water, or you die.”  Growled the man.

            Jesus felt a sharp pain just under his chin, followed by a warm ribbon of blood oozing down his neck and stained his flannel shirt.  Jesus had but little choice, so he surrendered his bottle.  The situation rapidly deteriorated, the men turning to desperate animals trying to escape the purgatory in which they found themselves.  They were trapped, and they began to rail against the back and the sides of the truck.  The doors did not yield even as the pressure increased.  Jesus swooned and slipped under the feet of the strugglers and was crushed in the movement.  He lost consciousness and everything went black.  He would never reach his goal, nor see his family again.

            The next day, agents of the Bureau of Immigrations and Naturalization Service (INS), found the truck with 135 dead bodies inside.  The truck had been wiped clean of all traces of fingerprints and the occupants had no identification.  No one cared about these human beings, so they were removed to a common grave and forgotten about, because the authorities had no way of knowing who to notify of their demise.