Chapter 1 #2
Padding to the small vanity, I nearly slip when my wet foot misses the crumpled bathroom mat, and practically catapults out from under me.
“FUCK!”
I shit you not—my soul ejecto-seatoed and went for a quick run around the damn equator before slamming back into my body.
Grappling, I catch the ceramic sink and steady myself, almost knocking the radio off the counter along with the clothes I had tossed on top.
Never mind my worn-out boots which are now crushed against the door jam from my sudden home run slide.
Once I’m finally dressed in a pair of boot-cut jeans, a black t-shirt, and an open dark grey button-up, I saunter into Ma’s kitchen.
The weathered rubber of my shoes thud along the worn carpet before the floor abruptly transitions to linoleum.
Despite the obsessive cleaning Ma does, the plastic coating still has that slightly sticky sound and feeling under my soles.
Snagging the backrest of a kitchen table chair, I whirl it around and drop into a straddle, giving a slight wiggle to get comfortable.
Crossing my arms along the top, bracing myself, I glance and salivate over the spread she’s cooked up.
The aromas are spicy, earthy, and sublime.
A mix of fresh veggies fried up with garlic and lemon—I’ll never get tired of her cooking.
We may not have much, but Ma makes sure we eat like there’s no tomorrow.
“About time you got your ass out of that shower and showed your face.”
That’s Uncle Ren, Lorenzo, or Officer Reyes depending on the day.
Other than my sisters Camilla and Ximena, he’s the only family we have left.
For some fucked up reason, he decided to start acting like our father instead of our uncle.
Instead of showing his smug face at our dinner table every damn day, I wish he would put more of his effort into playing with the badge-bunnies at his precinct than being here—they actually want his time whereas we wish he didn’t exist.
Hearing his pissy attitude, it’s safe to assume he’s going by Officer Reyes today rather than Uncle, but the five-o isn’t my friend, and neither is Uncle Ren.
Dickead cherishes his corroded badge and oppressive brotherhood more than his own flesh and blood.
He chooses to shun the very people he grew up with—those who had protected him and gave the shifts off their back on more than one occasion.
Now he looks at them over the barrel of a gun and refuses to listen rather than shout.
One day Karma will come around and he will be spoon fed his just desserts with the same kind of contempt.
Unfortunately, Ma loves the hell out of him. That’s her brother, the baby of eight of them, so I suppose she has to but that doesn’t mean I do. So, like the pain in the ass I am for him specifically, I don’t.
Something tells me he’s here for a reason, and I have a sneaking suspicion it’s because I’m back in town.
I’ve been chased by cops in the city on more than one occasion.
I wouldn’t doubt his visit has something to do with that since I, obviously, slip out of their grubby, pig-fingers.
Cities and counties talk, they also reach out to the state, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they told him they’re looking for me and my crew and got word we would be in Hazelwood tonight.
Time wasted on this part, even if we’re all here they have nothing other than speculation and whispers—that won’t hold up in a court of law.
Either way, today is supposed to be a good day—not one where I’m forced to listen to his lectures because my padre is MIA.
Not your shoes to fill, motherfucker.
A fact he has yet to learn and from how things are going, he may never.
We’re not his fucking kids though, hell half the time I’m not his nephew either and if it wasn’t for Ma, we wouldn’t be civil with one another.
Her feelings get hurt when we start going after one another, but if he wants to poke at me then I’ll stab right back then apologize to her later.
Shifting my stare away from the plate of fresh tortillas, grilled carne asada, and elote, I offer him a scowl. If he wants to throw down then I’m game, it’s been a while since my knuckles have met something other than the unforgiving surface of my manifold.
“Is that what you come here for? Wallow in our business and stick your snout where it doesn’t belong?” I follow up with an obnoxious ‘sooie’.
“Kaleb. No pelees con tu tio,” Ma clips.
Don’t fight with him; she says.
Whatever. He shouldn’t start shit when he knows I’m not one to back down.
Scowling, I eventually rip my glare away from Uncle Ren and meet Ma’s tender smile.
I refuse to let this goober ruin my high.
Between the happiness she wears on her lovely face, and knowing I’ll get to see Nadia tonight, I’ll be damned if I let him rain on my fucking parade.
“Lo siento, madre.”
“Where are you going this late? I thought you were staying for dinner?” she asks.
“A party. I missed Nadia’s graduation earlier. Since she’s going to be out with her friends later, I want to see her.”
“That girl’s bad news,” Ren butts in, waving his fork around.
What kind of Latino eats carne asada and tortillas with a damn fork?
“No one asked for your opinion, pig.”
“Doesn’t mean I won’t share it.”
“Hermano, don’t antagonize him.”
“Ahhh, madre. El credo no me molesta.”
“Watch your fucking mouth, Kaleb.”
This asshole.
“You’ve gone so far off the rails, you’re abandoning your heritage. Do you not understand Spanish anymore?”
“That’s beside the point,” he snaps at me.
Instead of goading him more, I shake my head and grab some food—the carne’s my favorite. I hate Ma likely made my favorite meal and thought I was going to be her little boy tonight, only to already have plans. Ones I refuse to forgo. Not this time. Maybe in the future.
Ripping some of the perfectly seasoned and grilled meat into bite size pieces, I toss it on a warmed corn tortilla and inhale it.
The flavors explode across my tastebuds, making me more ravenous than I already was.
As I hurriedly scarf down my food, my right leg begins to bounce with anticipation and anxiety.
I get to see her, not in pictures or through word of mouth, actually lay my eyes on her.
Three, no four—hell, I don’t remember how many tortillas later, I’m pushing away from my seat.
Righting the chair and sliding it under the particle board-like table, I lean over and give Ma a kiss on the top of her grey-streaked, black hair.
This woman is one of the best things to ever happen to me, even if I can’t stick around tonight.
“Volveré más trade. Te amo.”
“We’re in the United States. Speak English, boy.”
Ma swings her kitchen towel at him, hitting the ass in the face, knowing he’s intentionally antagonizing me to make me lash out.
For someone who wanted to play ‘daddy,’ he sure is a terrible influence.
Once upon a time, our family would have been proud to have a police officer among us.
Showing other families coming to the states was the smartest thing we could do to escape the increasing violence in Mexico.
Unfortunately, we traded one tyrant for another. Being his kin is an embarrassment.
“Ten cuidado, mijo.”
“Si mamá.”
Ten. Ten long strides and I’m out of the kitchen into the too-small living room.
By the door sits a catch-all shelf where we drop all of our stuff the moment we walk in, keys, wallets, bags, jackets, you name it.
Typically our keys go on a hook on the wall but mine are sitting in a bowl that I promptly snatch them out of.
I don’t waste time stepping onto the small porch just outside of the trailer door, my clinking metal keys announcing my leave.
I’m not embarrassed of what we have, more so I’m angry over it.
Ma deserves better. She used to tell me stories of where our family came from—homes with dirt floors and having to fetch water every morning just to have something to drink while others worked.
But she’s a godsend of a woman, always pushing me to be the best man I can be and support me in any way she could.
She would go out of her way to attend every one of my school events and stop by to have lunch with me occasionally.
She bust her ass working extra shifts to pay for my football gear, only to turn around and do it again so my sisters could have the things they wanted too.
A trailer house in a run-down park isn’t quite the castle she deserves, she loves it.
The day my racing career takes off, I’m putting her in a real home.
The kind with solid walls and bricks on the outside, a yard where she can plant a vegetable garden and relax on one of those fancy swing sets with the canopy over it.
She will want for nothing, all because she’s the mother I was blessed with.
Stomping down the rickety porch steps, the greying wood and rusted nails groaning under my weight, I clear the bottom one with a slight pep in my step. I get to see Nadia, feel her in my damn hands, smell that honey-like scent she always has—drawing me in like a siren.
At my driver-side door, the key grinds when I shove it into the keyhole and turn, the lock clunks free right as I pull the door's latch. Inside, pre-summer warmth and sun has heated the stock steering wheel, center console, and the leather back seats to the point it permeates the air and slaps me in the face. Though she’s a mean bitch, I love this damn car.
Sliding into the driver seat, the key feeds into the ignition; she purrs to life with a loud growl that reverberates off the trailer next to ours. Pink Floyd joins in, flooding the cab with music so loud it vibrates the plastic housings shielding the speakers—almost as good as the real thing.
Shifting her into reverse, I reach for the left shoulder of the passenger seat and brace myself.
Diligently looking out the rear window, I clear the short driveway and avoid Officer Reyes’s ugly fucking cruiser that’s parked too close for my liking.
He invades everything, like some sort of Spanish conquistador.
How hard is it to give people room to back out of their parking spots?
The road out of here squeezes narrowly between other trailers making it a hazard to drive down since kids race up and down the street on their bicycles, hooting and hollering from supper happiness.
They don’t have a sidewalk so they make do with what they have, I don’t blame them.
It’s a simple joy. Pushing in the clutch and shifting into drive, we launch forward, erupting the park with growls that rattle windows and surely piss off my uncle.
Tonight’s the night.
I’ve missed my delinquent for far too long, now it’s time to steal her away.