35. Big Sun

Heading west from La Mula, the land smoothens out, making for a straight highway with wide vistas. On the right is the Sierra Matasaguas, and on the left is a vast plain governed by guame (creosote) bushes and bordered by the Sierra Madres far off in the distance. The land also slowly declines. Drivers have a clear view of the road all the way to the horizon.

As the Kodiak traveled on the highway that afternoon, only a small portion of the huge summer sun had set behind the Sierra Madres. The tiny speck of the only toll booth on the highway came into view while it still half an hour’s drive away. Although not as visible as the Sierra Madres and the toll both, vehicles traveling to and fro on the highway showeded up but only at a of distance a few kilometers. 

Conversation between Lilo and Ervey had stalled out many kilometers earlier. The two simply looked out in silence at the expanse before them, mesmerized by the uniformity and infinity of the land. 

The toll booth eventually appeared before them, and Lilo paid the toll and collected a receipt without taking his eyes off the road as if he was in trance. Behind the toll booth, the sun that an hour earlier seemed too big to fit behind the horizon had burned down to a long and thin ember glowing on the horizon. The image of the toll booth quickly passed, and the Kodiak shifted up and reached top speed with minimal thought and effort by Lilo. The road opened up again in silence. With no clouds in the sky, there was still an hour of twilight left in the day. 

The pair traveled in silence until Lilo spied something on the road far ahead of them.

“Hmm. Looks like traffic has stopped up ahead,” he said, “can you make out what’s causing it.”

Ervey peered out a long while before he responded.

“Can’t tell, but it seems only the westbound lanes are affected,” he said, “with a lot of vehicles standing.”

“Yeah, could be an accident or some other obstruction,” said Lilo, “it’s going to cost us more time. Now we probably won’t get into Chihuahua until close to midnight.”

“Seems there’s fifteen, maybe twenty vehicles waiting,” said Ervey.

“Even a bus, no?” added Lilo.

“Sí,” said Ervey. 

The obstruction was still at a distance that Lilo did not have to shift down. Both men watched in silence as the impeding stop came closer and closer.

Lilo indicated he was going to say something, but relented. Ervey turned to him hear what he was going to say. When nothing came, he spoke up.

“What?” he asked.

“No. Nothing,” said Lilo.

“Listen, I’ve been meaning to ask if you knew somebody who used to research the history of El Mulato that got kidnapped?” asked Ervey.

“What?” said Lilo, taken aback by the shift in the conversation, “somebody who studied El Mulato and was kidnapped? I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“Because of this receipt booklet in the glove compartment,” said Ervey, pulling out the booklet and opening it to the handwritten notes on the back of the middle pages.

“What’s that?” asked Lilo, looking back and forth between what Ervey held in his hand and the road ahead.”

“It’s a receipt booklet with handwriting scribbled on the back of these pages. I found it here last week. My partner bought it a couple of months ago to keep track of deliveries and discovered the writing when he got to the middle pages. The writer seems to have been abducted and wants to leave behind his notes of what happened and what he has found out about El Mulato,” said Ervey, “something about centuries of conflict, like you were saying earlier, and about old customs or behaviors.”

Lilo pursed his lips, as if he was trying to conjure a thought. Then he nodded rapidly.

“Well, I do remember hearing about an old man from Texas, a professor at the university in Alpine not far from Presidio, Texas, who used to interview people from El Mulato,” said Lilo, “he did it for so long that a lot of people met and talked about him. He collected old papers and receipts, whatever people would let him have or copy. I thought he was still doing it,” said Lilo, “you say he was abducted?”

“That’s what it says here,” said Ervey pointing to the booklet in his hand, “but it’s only part of what he wrote. The rest’s in other booklets, who knows where.”

“And what else does it say?” asked Lilo, “anything about how El Mulato came to be, the first settlers, about the name?”

“Not specifically about any of that,” said Ervey, “but the writer seems to say that El Mulato has been around since before the spaniards and that life hasn’t changed much. In any case, a lot of what he wrote went on other booklets. So to find out you would have to get ahold of them, however many there are.”

“Interesting,” said Lilo, “I do remember hearing from people who talked to him that he thought that the people from El Mulato were separate and different that the rest of the people in Ojinaga, which for us is like saying the sun rises in the east.”

“But did you know about El Mulato being there for centuries?” asked Ervey.

“No,” said Lilo, gearing down the Kodiak.

“And about old conflicts?” asked Ervey.

“Hmm. Just a moment, let’s see what this stoppage is about,” said Lilo, nodding toward the line of vehicles standing on the highway.