“Hector and I started out as grooms together at the same barn,” Daniel said. “I told him he should be a trainer—he had a gift with horses. But he told me, no, I was the one who should be a trainer someday. He said that he knew how to care for horses and communicate with them. But I knew how to make great jumpers and great riders. It was Hector who found out about the assistant trainer’s job at Atwood Farm. They wanted to interview him, but he told them to hire me before somebody else did. When I interviewed with Mrs. Atwood, my boss, I asked her how she knew about me. She said, ‘Hector told me.’ When I got back to the barn where we were still working, I asked him how I could possibly repay a kindness like that. He told me, ‘Someday you will find a way.’”
He turned to look at Hector, and smiled, then looked back at the judge.
“With your help, Your Honor, maybe I have finally done that,” Daniel said.
The judge thanked him. Daniel walked back to his seat. Even from a few rows back, I could hear him exhale, loudly, when he sat down.
The judge then stated that in chambers she would consider Mr. Connors’s recommendations and the prosecutor’s, read the letters and the original arrest report, and would then announce her decision.
When she was out of the room, Daniel came and sat with Gus and me. As cold as the air-conditioning was in the hearing room, he was still sweating slightly, as if he were still standing in front of Judge Ross.
She came back fifteen minutes later.
“First off, Mr. Suarez,” she said, addressing Hector directly, “the next time somebody calls you a shitty name in a bar, go home to your wife.”
I leaned over and said into Gus’s ear, “Can she say that?”
“She just did,” he said.
Judge Ross leaned forward slightly.
“But as for this proceeding, we have wasted too much of your time in that detention center, Mr. Suarez, and too much government money,” she said. “Your friend is right. You’re not a criminal, unless being a victim of circumstances is now a federal offense in this country.”
She shifted her gaze to the two ICE agents.
“Perhaps in the future, we should think about doing a little better job making that distinction,” she said.
She banged her gavel.
“Your petition for cancellation is granted by this court, Mr. Suarez. As quickly as we can process you out, you will be released from custody.” She smiled at Hector now. “Where’s your wife?”
“Working,” Hector said.
“Call her,” the judge said, then announced that court was adjourned.
When we were all on the sidewalk, I took Daniel’s hand and gave it a good squeeze.
“You’re an even better friend than you are a trainer,” I said to him.
“Much better,” Gus said.
It got a laugh out of Daniel. Never, I knew from experience, an easy thing to do.
“You think this is funny?” we heard from behind us.
It was the shorter of the two ICE agents, showing us his badge, as if that were necessary.
“No, sir,” Daniel said. “Please believe me, I don’t think any of this is funny.”
The taller one said, “We’d like a word with you, Mr. Ortega.”
EIGHTY-SEVEN
THE COLOR DRAINED from Daniel’s face, in a blink, as if he feared the judge had changed her mind while we were exiting the building. Daniel looked at both of the agents, then at me, then at Gus. I could see him trying hard to swallow. I remembered all the times he had spoken of the government. Now here the government was, in the form of these two guys, standing right in front of him, in front of a federal building.
But Daniel didn’t get the chance to speak because Gus beat him to it.
“No,” Gus said, “you may not have a word with him. But thanks for asking.”
“Who the hell are you?” the taller agent said.
“Think of me as a concerned citizen,” Gus said, then whipped around his wheelchair to face them both squarely, a quick move that bumped one of the wheels against the taller man’s foot. I knew it hadn’t been accidental. But what were they going to do, arrest a guy in a wheelchair for assault?
“Sorry,” Gus said.
“I’ll bet,” the taller agent said.
“Got a question,” Gus said to him. “Is it your intent to arrest Mr. Ortega?”
“Like we said,” the shorter one said. “We just want a word.”
“And like I said,” Gus said, “if you’re not going to arrest him, get the hell out of here.”