The Only Road

“I don’t want to die. But I don’t want to kill people either. What can I do?”

After Miguel’s death, Jaime realizes that the Alphas will kill him if he does not join their gang; joining them will mean he becomes a killer too. This impossible decision is what motivates Jaime to undertake the journey north. While that journey also holds the possibility of death, it also offers a chance at life.

“Tomorrow, at the burial, there’d be grieving. Tonight, however, was the time to celebrate Miguel’s life.”

Diaz gives a glimpse into Guatemalan funeral customs, which may be unfamiliar to readers. An important element of acknowledging a death is celebrating that person’s life, which can help ease the pain of that death. This is especially important in a young adult novel, as it helps the reader cope with the traumatic events of the story.

“If he and Ángela stayed, they could end up dead; if they left, they might end up dead.”

The decision to leave their families and go north is not an easy one for Jaime or Ángela. The journey is difficult, and there are no guarantees of success or even survival. Diaz stresses this point repeatedly, helping the reader to understand the seriousness of the decision Jaime and Ángela make, and the difficulty of making it.

“Any other time, the old television wouldn’t be missing from its usual spot.”

To find the money to help Jaime and Ángela in their journey, their families have begged, borrowed, and sold their possessions. They had little to begin with, sharing one old flip phone between their two families, but even the smallest luxuries, like the old television, must be sacrificed to help Jaime and Ángela flee the Alphas. Jaime often thinks about how much his family gives up trying to get him to safety.

“Our parents spent more time borrowing money than ironing out the details.”

Ángela’s words come across as slightly sarcastic, but she is speaking from fear. The truth is that their parents could not have foreseen how to help the children through this journey—their parents had not experienced anything like it themselves. They did their best to set the children up for success by giving them as much money as they could and trusting their judgment would keep them safe. Diaz is emphasizing the cruelty of a world in which parents cannot protect their children.

“As they passed the windowless white van, everyone turned to stare at it, and then at the empty seat that a few minutes before had held a woman searching for a better life.”

Diaz emphasizes the risks inherent in trying to make the trip out of Central America to Mexico and then beyond. The woman removed from the bus is from El Salvador and tries to lie to the Mexican police officer, but he is not fooled; she is beaten and then taken off the bus, her next destination unknown. Getting caught trying to escape may be as dangerous as the escape itself, as there are no guarantees of safety, not even in the hands of the police.

“Un paso a la vez. One step at a time.”

Jaime is panicking because Ángela is panicking, but he calms himself by thinking of what Miguel would say. Repeating the words in Spanish then in English remind the reader that Jaime’s native language is Spanish, and his journey north will require him to adjust not just to new cultures and places but also another language.

“Where would he draw the line between those he’d help, and those he’d let get abused and deported?”

Jaime asks himself this question but does not have an answer, at least not in this moment. This is a question other characters wrestle with too: What will they do to save themselves? Who will they help? Who will they let suffer or die? The fact that anyone must make such a decision is part of the novel’s tension; the author is asking the reader to consider the kind of world we live in when anyone must consider these choices.

“Vida, life. That was a good name.”

Even in the darkness of their journey, the children find hope in the resilience and courage of the little dog Xavi rescues. They all team together to help the animal, even Ángela, who fears dogs. In naming her Vida they remind themselves and each other that life is resilient, that life goes on.

“It all came down to Jaime, and the ways he could have stopped any of this from happening.”

Several times in the novel Jaime tries to assume responsibility for everything that has happened, believing that if he had just done something differently, he might have changed the outcome of events: Miguel would still be alive; he and Ángela would be safe at home. The reader knows there is nothing Jaime could have done differently, making his sorrow even more poignant.

“But what’s the alternative?”

Xavi asks this rhetorical question when Ángela tells him it is too dangerous to try to catch a ride on top of the train. He is making and underlining the point that comes up repeatedly: The people making the journey north do not see any other options. They will risk their lives—and some, including Xavi, will die—because they cannot do anything else.

“Jesús loves you—it’s everyone else you have to convince.”

Padre Kevin is making a joke, but he’s also serious: The children will encounter people who view them with suspicion and distrust, and it will be up to the children to change their minds. Much of the hostility they encounter will be grounded in xenophobia, generated by racism the children cannot prevent. Padre Kevin acknowledges this reality to remind the children they must see the world for what it is; trusting people could get them hurt or killed.

“They were locked in a pitch-black train car with no way of getting out, prisoners in their escape for freedom.”

Jaime and Ángela’s families have paid a tremendous amount of money to smugglers who promise to help them get to the Mexico-United States border. When Jaime realizes that this payment comes with no guarantees and that their train ride will be dangerous, perhaps even deadly, he understands that the cost of their freedom could be much more than money. Diaz emphasizes the irony of the children being prisoners even as they try to escape to freedom.

“That’s up to God to decide.”

When Jaime overhears the little girl on the train ask if they are going to die, he expects her mother to provide words of comfort. Instead, the mother is honest and tells her daughter the hard truth: They might. The comfort she offers is that they can only trust in God to help them survive. The journey’s difficulty and danger means even little children must grow up quickly.

“One hand on his bag, and the other curled around Ángela’s, he felt strangely secure and relaxed in this dirty little car cave.”

Diaz is pointing out the irony that the safest Jaime feels in a long time comes when he is hiding under a car, trying to find a place to sleep. He and Ángela are not safe anywhere they go; they are robbed when they fall asleep on the train. Their hiding place underneath a junky car, in the dirt and street litter, is the most welcoming place they can find.

“The people that live there are poor but so nice.”

Rafa tells Jaime and Ángela about how the people of Veracruz threw food to them as the train passed through. Not all Mexicans are cruel to the immigrants, and some who try to help do so despite their own poverty. Throughout the novel Diaz marks the distinction between those who help and those who choose not to or do so only to enrich or benefit themselves.

“This is exactly why Mexicans hate us here.”

After experiencing the generosity of the anonymous people who gave them food during the night, Rafa steals some gum and cigarettes from a man in the marketplace. He justifies himself by saying the man would not pay him after Rafa did some work in his store, but Xavi is furious with him, explaining that his actions justify the Mexicans’ distrust of immigrants, believing them to be liars and thieves.

“With la migra, he pointed out where immigrants were hiding and gave them other information in exchange for our safety.”

Xavi helped a man onto the train, and in exchange the man helped him survive the gangs and the police by giving up other immigrants. When Ángela asks him how the man could do that, Xavi ashamedly explains that the man gave up other immigrants to save himself. The man had tried to make the journey six times before, and each time he learned what he needed to do to try to survive, getting a gang tattoo and turning over his fellow travelers. Each character must decide the price they are willing to pay for freedom, a choice made all the more terrible when success is not a guarantee.

“He’d died by himself, in a strange country, and his family would never know.”

Jaime and Ángela encounter the remains of a man who has been killed by the train and realize that the man’s family will never learn of his death. They will always wonder what happened to him. This is one of the many ways in which the immigrant’s journey is both terrifying and tragic.

“It was as if Lalo and Victor had taken Ángela away too and replaced her with this alien.”

Lalo and Victor are the two boys who steal the cousins’ backpacks when Jaime falls asleep while he is supposed to be on lookout. Ángela’s anger at Jaime is uncharacteristic of her; Jaime does not recognize her in her fury. The thieves have stolen not just their few belongings but even Ángela’s personality, her kindness, her humanity.

“It was nice feeling useful and not being on the run.”

Jaime contemplates whether Señora Pérez will keep him and Ángela as “slaves” and thinks for a little while that it would not be terrible if she did. The journey has been so difficult and dehumanizing that Jaime enjoys the “normalcy” of doing work around someone’s house, even if that person might be planning to enslave him. Diaz shows readers how easy it is to lose perspective in such dire circumstances.

“First he tucked in his frayed T-shirt, which he’d cut to tie the brace for Ángela’s ankle, and brushed off his dirt-covered jeans as best he could.”

Here Diaz captures how Jaime protects one thing he has left, besides his sketchbook and his cousin: his dignity. When he realizes he can sell his drawings, he does what he can to make himself look presentable, both to attract customers and to remind himself that he has something to be proud of: his own courage.

“Four thousand kilometers and you almost die for a book.”

Jaime dives to the bottom of the river to rescue the bag with his sketchbook, and Ángela tries to be angry with him but is only glad he is OK. When he tells her the book is his “life,” Diaz is inviting the reader to consider what they would be willing to give up to survive. Jaime would not be Jaime without his art, without his freedom to draw whatever he wants to, and he is willing to die for that freedom.