Kimberly Guerrero

You can still see the mountain from here, my mother told Leticia in Blackfoot.

Lots of mountains in Salt Lake, Leticia told her in English.

The place is closed, I said, just like I told you.

Letitia tucked her hair into her jacket and dragged her bag down the road to the brick building with the American flag flapping on the pole.

When she got to where the guards were waiting, she turned, put the bag down, and waved to us.

We waved back.

Then my mother turned the car around and we came home.

We got postcards from Letitia regular, and if she wasn't spreading jelly on the truth, she was happy.

She found a good job and rented an apartment with a pool.

And she can't even swim, my mother told Mrs. Manyfingers.

Most of the postcards said we should come down and see the city.

But whenever I mentioned this, my mother would stiffen up.

So I was surprised when she bought two new tires to the car and put on her blue dress with the green and yellow flowers.

I had to dress up too for my mother did not want us crossing the border looking like Americans.

We made sandwiches and put them in a big box with pop and potato chips and some apples and bananas and a big jar of water.

But we can stop at one of those restaurants too, right?

We maybe should take some blankets in case she gets sleepy.

But we can stop at one of those restaurants, too, right?

The border was actually two towns, though neither one was big enough to amount to anything.

Coots was on the Canadian side and consisted of a convenience store and gas station, the museum that was closed and bordered up, and a motel.