Family Reunion

Sarah was just getting home from work at 5:30 that evening. Since suffering her stab wound days prior she was making quick recovery. The doctor told her she wouldn't need to take much time to rest because she was already coming around remarkably.

She took off her jacket and her work shirt where she was wearing a tube top underneath. This left her unbandaged stab wound exposed. It was red where the object had entered.

She threw her keys down on a table in the front doorway. She started going through her mail as she kicked off her shoes and walked into the living room. "Hmm...bills...bills...bills," she sighed to herself.

She threw the bills down on the coffee table and flicked on the television. As she was going through the many channels trying to find the news there was a knock at the door.

"Crap..." she said as she left the television set and got up and went to the door. She opened it to see a couple of people dressed in business-like attire standing in front of her. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am. We're with the California Department of Justic for Immigration Review." one of the two men said.

"Yes..."Sarah said with puzzlement.

"May we come in and speak with you?" the other asked.

"Umm...I suppose. I just got off work, but come on in," Sarah said.

"Thank you," man number one asked.

"So...what is this about?" Sarah asked as she lead them out to the living room and they all sat down.

"Well ma'am. We had a report from someone that you are an illegal alien whom does not possess any identification or authorization to live in the United States," man number two said.

"What?!" Sarah said with shock. "I've lived here all my life!"

"May we see your green card ma'am?" man number two asked.

"But...I don't have one. But I am from here!" Sarah asssured them.

"Ma'am we need direct proof from you," man number one said as he turned to look at the television. In Sarah's haste to get to the door she had left it on an Arabic news station.

"Are you from Palestine ma'am?" man number two asked.

"Palestine?! Are you joking?" Sarah questioned.

"No ma'am, we did not come with that intention," man number two said.

"This is poposterous!" Sarah snapped.

"Ma'am calm down. Please show us some identification," man number one asked.

"Fuck...just a second," Sarah said as she got up and went into the bedroom. She found her old drivers lisence and brought it out from the bedroom. "Here..." she said as she passed it to man number one.

The man inspected it for several minutes, "This really doesn't look like you," he said.

"It doesn't look like me?" Sarah asked.

"No...this woman is white, you do not look white at all," man number one said.

"I am white! My last name's Moore!" Sarah protested.

"Ma'am just relax, this is obviously not your identification card," man number one said.

"But it is!" Sarah said growing frustrated.

"Ma'am, we have you pegged. This was a little easier than I would have expected. But you cannot provide and substantially truthful identification, and we came in here and you're sitting down watching the Arabic news channel," man number two added.

"I'm not watching this! I was flipping through channels! Oh my god..." Sarah sighed.

"Ma'am I noticed your back has been quite severely hurt. Is this something you endured while you were in Palestine?" man number two questioned.

"What the fuck...I'm not from Palestine! I'm dark because I tan a lot okay?!" Sarah snarked.

"Ma'am answer the question," man number two added.

"No, I did not get it in Palestine. Some one stabbed me the other night. I've never even fucking been to Palestine!" Sarah said.

"Ma'am, we'll take you back home and put you in a nice shelter for abused women. You can get help while still being in your home country. Won't that be nice?" man number one asked.

"It would be...if I was from Palestine. Who the fuck set this up anyways? Who told you I'm from Palestine?" Sarah asked.

"Ma'am, we are not required or authorized to answer that question. And carrying false I.D. is also a felony. You will be fined for doing so," man number two said.

"I can't fucking believe this..." Sarah said.

"We'd like to calmly ask you to come with us. We'll get you fixed up and get you a plane back to where you came from," man number one said.

"This is an outrage! Let me call my cousin!" Sarah shouted as the two men came towards her.

"Ma'am you can come calmly or we'll handcuff you and drag you out. Either way you're coming with us right now," man number two said.

"Look, I really am a resident here. I have no idea what the hell is going on. Please don't take me away, I really haven't done anything," Sarah begged.

Well, apparently the begging didn't do much good. After several more minutes of interrogation from the men she was taken down to the Department of Justice downtown Oakland.

The next day she found herself on a plane to a country where she had no business being. A place where she knew no one. A place where her life would be completely turned upside down.

The proof was there as far as the Department of Justice could see.

'What would poor little Sarah do to get home from a war ravaged country she knew nothing about?'

* * *

Tre shamefully returned home that evening. As he walked in the front door Claudia was sitting in the living room with Frankito. She looked at Tre and didn't say a word. Tre knew that she knew, he just sighed and made his way upstairs.

He walked into his room and there lay Rose on the bed with her back to the door. She hadn't moved an inch for hours. She was asleep and Tre just stood his distance for a few minutes looking at her back.

Rose turned over slowly and her bruised face was exposed to Tre. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw what he had done to her. "Oh my god..." he gasped.

Rose opened her eyes and saw Frank standing there. Her jaw dropped, she had no idea what to say.