Fictional Story - GREENER

They were evacuating the hospital. I escorted the maternity ward out onto the dusty street. Fearful that any one of them could go into labor at any moment, I hurried them along to the building they would be staying in.
Sandals slapped against the dull brick road, white hospital dresses fluttered in the breeze, and big, round tummies slowly bounced with each footstep. I imagine how strange this might look to someone watching. Ten impregnated women taking an afternoon walk. This wasn’t a leisurely walk, however. In a war torn country, we often had to flee from our homes to hide in the sparse bomb shelters around the neighborhood. I was sure the same thing was on every mother-to-be’s mind – ‘How will I raise a child in this environment?’
Not far from the hospital, Frances and Eduardo are sending their dear son a letter. His name is Pablo, and he is in America, going to college. Frances signs a check for his last semester of tuition. It is all they have left in their bank account. Eduardo kisses his wife’s shoulder. They love their son very much, willing to sacrifice everything, even down to their last nickel, for Pablo to get a quality, American education.
The setting sun glitters on the dirty, cheap buildings. Having no idea what they will have to eat the following morning, they pull out their chairs and turn to the post office to send off the precious letter and check. When they get in line, there are about nine people waiting in line. However, one group of aristocratic men stick out like a sore thumb among the people dressed in dull, dirty clothes. One even holds some brandy in a glass while he waits in like, carrying a magazine and a large stack of official-looking envelopes and what appears to be bodyguards on his right and left.
“What is a man like that doing in the post office?” Eduardo murmurs to his wife.
The man overhears him say this and turns to Eduardo and says, “I am Jacobo Esteves, son of the dictator of this country. I am fleeing from this country, because I do not agree with my father’s beliefs. He will kill me unless I leave. But before I leave, I must send some of my father’s secret plans to the United States.”
Lisle peeks out of her ‘rock house’ that she plays in when her family visits their beach house. She looks up into the sky and watches the plane that Jacobo Esteves is traveling on. She wonders who the people are on the plane, and where they are going. She jumps out of her playhouse and spreads her arms as wide as they can. Imitating the sounds of an airplane, her feet soar across the grass, then sand, finally hitting the salty sea waves. She wishes she could fly away just like that plane – to freedom. Away from two parents addicted to money and their jobs. She knows on the outside, her family looks successful, even perfect. But everything is not as what it seems. Her hand glides over her bruised, scratched arm that her daddy left her when he got too drunk and angry. If I was on my plane, Lisle thinks, I would fly across the ocean to a pretty little village and make friends with the children that lived there.
“Lisle!” her mother’s voice sounds over the waves, “Come inside!”
Her daydreaming would have to wait until tomorrow.