Home By Marquel Hoping for Asylum, Migrants Strain U.S. Border. After long decline, crossings in...

Hoping for Asylum, Migrants Strain U.S. Border. After long decline, crossings in Texas once again soar

TPV The New York Times has recently realized that Texas is still part of the Union and published: Hoping for Asylum, Migrants Strain U.S. Border. Marquel, TPVs Times correspond​ent, went to Texas too and noted: After long decline, crossings in Texas once again soar.

Texas officials have noted population drops near the Louisiana border as well as along the New Mexico and Oklahoma borders. Even the small border with Arkansas shows some small towns shrinking.

Marquel perused this story and noted a difference. In the past there was always a slight population increase as Mexicans and other people from the South snuck into the state. But this Times story was different, it seemed. People are fleeing Texas!

Marquel put on his ten gallon hat and realized it wasn’t cowboy enough. Just as in Spinal Tap, it turned out that turning it up to eleven made all the difference. Armed with his new eleven gallon hat, Marquel sauntered down to Texas to check out things.

Texas is a big state. In fact it was our biggest until Alaska was admitted. I’d say it’s still our biggest because Alaska is more of a continent than a state. And Texas has huge borders. I couldn’t police them all. I decided the little sliver with Arkansas would be manageable and I stationed myself on the Arkansas side at a small truck drop to see what popped up.

As soon as the sun went down I found a family of four huddled in a Cadillac Escalade, all of them peering out of the blackened windows in fear. “Don’t worry,” I said, “you’ve made it. This is Arkansas.”

They climbed out of the truck sized car. All their belongings, which seemed to consist of children’s video games, were stuffed in the back seat. “It’s Arkansas?” Said their mother. “We just stopped to pee.”

“Tell me” I said, “were you fearful?”

“Like I said,” she repeated, “we just stopped to pee. What would we be afraid of?” The kids were now screaming for Icees, and she asked, “ya think they have Icees here?”

“I think so,” I said, pointing to the office. I adjusted my eleven gallon and asked, “tell me where do you go from here or haven’t you thought that far?”

The husband pushed up against me aggressively, saying, “Stop hitting on my wife. What do you want from us? Where’d you get that huge hat? Is there a carnival in town? We’re just going down the road to Costco to shop.”

“You’re not fleeing Texas?” I asked.

“Are you nuts?” He said and they all went in search of Icees. And to pee. I couldn’t expect every car I saw to be filled with refugees, I realized, so I kept up my search. For most of the evening, most of the travelers were simply going shopping, looking for Icees, or peeing.

Finally,a little after midnight I found one fearful man in a pickup truck with a flask in his back pocket. “You’re in Arkansas,” I congratulated him.

“Thank God,” he answered.

I asked him about conditions in Texas.

“Terrible,” he slurred, “ever since the Bushes came back”

“Why’s that?” I wondered.

“The culture’s gone down the tubes.” He hiccuped. “Have you seen that shit W drew? I can’t get anything into the galleries anymore.”

“You’re a painter?” I said with excitement.

“More of a drawer,” he said, “but yeah.”

An art refugee! This was a scoop. “Tell me, were you frightened crossing the border?”

“Damned straight” he answered, “the interstate always frightens me.”

“Well,” I offered, “if you need to pee or an Icee, it’s over that way. Say, have you decided where you’re going after this?”

“Brooklyn,” he drawled simply, “they’ll exhibit anything there.”

I thought he might be disappointed but I was most impressed by his bravery. Ten or twelve more cars stopped but none were refugees. Finally, a couple in a small foreign make stopped. “You’re in Arkansas,” I celebrated. “You’re safe!”

They looked at me with apparent bemusement. “We’re going to Little Rock,” they said in unison.

I asked them, too, if the border crossing was stressful. The girl, who I noticed was just slightly bulging below the waist, rubbed her back, and said yes, repeating the fact that the interstate was torturous. I asked them about conditions in Texas.

“It’s shit,” she answered, “don’t try to get an abortion there” I said I wouldn’t and asked about their future plans. “If I never return to Texas, it’ll be too soon.” A real refugee seeking gender equality. I was thrilled and pointed to the office.

“You can pee there,” I said to her back, as she was madly dashing to the loo. I turned to her boyfriend. “There’s Icees inside.”

Around five in the morning a car filled with young men careened into the parking lot. “Congratulations!” I said. “”You’re safe in Arkansas.”

One came up to me and I saw a handgun tucked into his waist. He was obviously the coyote, having guided them across the dangerous border in the still of the night. “Tell me,” I asked, “what are your plans now?”

“Who wants to know?” He asked.

I explained my interest and he said, “Of course it was scary. This interstate is the most dangerous in the nation. Texas won’t even pay for street lights.”

“So I guess you won’t be traveling back to Texas any time soon?” I asked.

“I don’t think so,” he said, “it depends on the statute of limitations.” He looked quizzical. So did I.

“Are you going to seek asylum?” I asked.

“No,” he said, “I’m going to seek the bathroom. Are you Mexican?”

“No,” I said, “why do you ask?”

“That’s the biggest fucking sombrero I’ve ever seen.”

I tried leaving for the night but I saw my car was up on blocks and all four wheels were gone. I went to the office for an Icee and a pee.

Hoping for Asylum, Migrants Strain U.S. Border

***

If you want to go somewhere but don’t know where, follow Marquel on Twitter @MarquelatTPV. TPV

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