Chapter 29

Storm fronts roll in from the coast, settling into days of steady rain that saturate the land. Fields turn to lakes, streams spill their banks, and highways flood. Migrant tents leak and collapse, cars short out in standing water, and families abandon camps to crowd into barns and sheds.

As flooding worsens, relief offices refuse aid without a year’s residency. With no work expected for months, hunger spreads, children cry, and sickness—pneumonia and measles—takes hold. Men trudge to towns to beg, lie, or try to steal food; pity in the communities sours into fear and hostility.

Sheriffs swear in new deputies and order rifles and tear gas as migrants gather behind stores for scraps. Doctors are overwhelmed, while coroners haul away the dead from the drenched countryside. In leaking barns, babies are born and the very old die; thefts of chickens and food increase despite gunfire.

When the rain finally stops, water still blankets the fields. Men assess the ruins and the grim fact of no work until spring. Women watch for signs of collapse but see fear shifting into anger when men gather together. As tiny shoots of grass appear, the migrants’ terror hardens into shared wrath and endurance.