I will be off the bus before then. I get off in Independencia just before the mountains, and walk back to San Felipe. I have a little less than an hour to do my work. It fits perfectly since it takes me the rest of the day to walk back home. I arrive back at my mother s door just by the evening meal with fresh tortillas, if all goes well.
Uncle starts the bus and the people settle in.
I glance up front and see uncle s eyes shifting here and there in the mirror below the visor of red velvet. The sash is swaying back and forth, beneath the round plaque of Jesus Christ glued above and the painted name, La Culpable. Many have stopped at the church and lit candles for this journey. Uncle s hands and feet and eyes are all coordinated in doing the difficult job of backing out through a tangle of buses and cars and people and baggage. Soon we are crawling out of the station.