He just wanted to go to sleep.He just wanted to go to sleep. A van turned the corner and Rafael gestured halfheartedly. The van was red with black stripes, one of those 'conversion' vans that vacationers were always driving. It stopped and then backed down the ramp until it came to a halt beside Rafael. The boy couldn't see inside the van. It was too dark. He could see only the dim silhouettes of the driver and a passenger, both men. "You hitchin' kid? Where ya goin'?" a voice asked. Rafael nodded and walked up to the side of the car suspiciously. They weren't vacationers he decided. "Yeah!" he replied, then added, "Miami,... kinda. Near there." "Late for a kid, ain't it?" the voice asked. Rafael shrugged and tried to appear calm. He tried to think up a believable story. It didn't matter, the side door swung open and he climbed in, stepping up and into the dark inside of the van. Then he realized that there were three men in the van. They were like him, well almost. He was pretty certain they were Cubans though it was hard to tell in the dark. The passenger in the seat behind the driver was silent. He looked out the window as the van started back up the on-ramp. Then as the van gathered speed and pulled onto the freeway he turned to Rafael. "You runnin' away or what, kid?" he asked quietly. The man's voice frightened Rafael. It was strangely threatening to him. He shook his head and yawned as he murmured, "I'm goin' home." He settled back into the soft upholstered seats. It was silent in the van except for the drum of the tires as they crossed the road lines. |