The Enemy of the Good (eideteker) wrote,
The Enemy of the Good
eideteker

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I could do it


The sun would be getting low on the horizon about then, and he would have to squint. He would glance over at her just the same, fighting sun and occasional tears of joy. His hands would be tense against the vinyl of the steering wheel, and he would only release his grip to lightly touch her face now and then, maybe brushing an errant hair from her brow. She would look so peaceful.

It wouldn't be long until it was their turn. He'd been across a few times for small things, so he knew that much. The border guard would wave him up, and he'd drop into gear and move forward a few carlengths. He'd roll down the window the rest of the way and smile wide, squinting against the sunlight reflected in those aviator shades. They'd ask him if he had anything to declare, and he'd smile and say, "Nope. Just my love for this here lady." He'd smile and turn to look at her, his devotion and genuine love in his eyes. He'd turn back and let a look of concern creep across his face, and then ask his carefully framed question: "Hey, you won't need me to wake her up, will you? She's finally sleeping after all that excitement." And he'd lift his left hand, fingering the shiny new band with his thumb, smiling modestly. And the guard would snort a little "heh" and give him a congratulatory smile. He'd shake his head, give a "nah" and just ask for their ID. He'd have the ID ready, anxious to start his honeymoon. The guard wouldn't see anything odd in that, other than that he was actually prepared. At the end of a long day, he'd be appreciative, though, rather than suspicious. He'd welcome them to Mexico and wave them past, not noticing that the young lady's ring didn't fit quite perfectly. And maybe, just maybe, after they'd pulled away, he'd catch a faint whiff of the chloroform, but by then they'd be lost in the crowd of vehicles, and he'd shake it off, eager to punch out and go home.

It'd probably go off without a hitch, just the way he'd framed it. He felt so much better that he'd gotten it down in writing.
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