Because I know you
I was being shaken awake, then being led into the car, staggering, half-lucid. In the car, I was between them, my mother and father. Every minute or so, a car would face off with ours, light up our faces, then pass and leave us in darkness.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked.
"Pues, tenemos que hacer algo," he said.
"Yeah, Viejo, but we aren't doing right," she said, her face lighting up.
"Mi mama lo conoce." His face again faded into shadow.
"Yeah, Viejo, but just because your mother knows him doesn't mean nothing."
"Es un hombre de Dios."
"Yeah, Viejo, but is he even a priest?"