Pieces of April

My phone startled me awake, tearing me away from a perfect world that could only exist in dreams. I jumped out of bed, stumbling through darkness and attempted to find my cell phone amongst the scattered contents of my pockets that I dumped onto the dresser the night before. I realized it was my mother calling and my body went numb. It’s THE phone call, I thought to myself.  That moment you have been dreading is here, your grandmother is dying.

I managed to answer the phone despite of all the thoughts ricocheting in my skull and sure enough my mother manages to tell me through tears that my grandmother is dying and I should go over immediately if I wished to say my goodbyes. I stood there frozen in disbelief.  This couldn’t be happening, I must still be asleep and all of this is just another terrible nightmare plaguing my dreams. I felt that awful void that only news like this could bring, that empty feeling as you realize things will never again be the same. She’s dying… and there wasn’t anything I could do, my prayers had all been in vain.

I couldn’t think straight as I scrambled around the room grabbing my shoes and a jacket, my vision blurred by my tears.  Where the fuck did I leave my keys? I have to get to her side, I have to be there with her, I will never forgive myself if I don’t make it on time. WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY KEYS?!  I finally found them in a pair of jeans lying crumpled in a corner of the room and I shot out of the house and dove into my car. I pulled out of the drive way and onto the street not checking for traffic. I was relieved the streets were empty with the exception of one or two vehicles and luckily it was the same case at the international bridge. I crossed back into the states in a matter of minutes.

I don’t recall the drive from the bridge to my grandmother’s home. I was lost in thought and it was one of those instances when the car could have quite possibly driven itself. I ran into the house and found my grandmother lying in bed with my mother, sister, and a couple of my aunts sitting beside her.  I walked over to the edge of the bed and took my grandmother’s hand in my own, soft like always. I recalled the many times these loving hands had caressed me as a child, cured my cuts and scrapes, and prepared me hot meals. This couldn’t be my grandmother. My grandmother was a woman of great strength, lively, always smiling and brightening up any room with her presence. Where was the woman I had known all my life? This was but a whisper of that glorious woman. She looked so fragile lying there with her eyes closed, almost unrecognizable with the oxygen mask covering her face.

“Grandma, it’s Mason. I’m here with you.” She took a deep breath acknowledging I was there next to her. I kissed her on the forehead and stood there, dazed, nothing but silence with the exception of the lethargic hissing as oxygen from multiple tanks was pumped for my grandmother.

I made my way over to my mother and took her in a tight embrace. I half expected her to be a wreck, but the blank look on her face told me she was still in shock. I couldn’t blame her, after all I felt the same. It was all surreal, I half expected to see my grandmother get out of bed and take out paper and tobacco from her drawer and roll herself a cigarette. But no such thing was happening, no miracle was to take place on that forlorn night.

I tried to hold back my tears for my mother’s sake. I had to be strong in anticipation of that moment when I knew she wouldn’t be able to do it alone. For that moment when her heart would be broken. For that moment when she would become an orphan child. To think as I was growing up my mother had to be the one to be strong for all of us, fighting our battles, righting our wrongs, and now the tables have turned. Now it is I who has to be her rock, it is I that will need to wipe her tears and comfort her.

“It’s for the best” my aunt Olga stated with a calmness from her side of the bed. “She will finally get to rest.”

I knew what she said was true, but I couldn’t help but want to say otherwise. Forgive me God for being greedy, but I am not ready for you to take her back. I still need her. There is so much more I can learn from her, so much more laughter to be shared with her, so much more… please!

At that moment my grandmother stirred, opening her eyes, beautiful sky blue eyes. She gazed at each one of us, and then took one deep final breath before settling back into stillness. It had happened, my grandmother was no longer with us. My aunt shot up from her seat to check her, I surveyed her face for any sign of hope, but her tearful  eyes said it all. It came at that moment, everything I had been holding back, rushing out at once like water bursting through a damn. The hurt was so immense I could literally feel pain in my body, shooting into every nerve of my being. It was a horrible moment as I was drowned in the cries of pain emitting from those around me. I swallowed my feelings and took my mother and sister into my arms, it took everything I had to fight back my emotions. I had to, for them. My grandmother layed there, her eyes still fixed on the ceiling. Void of all life, an empty shell left behind.

My aunt leaned over her and closed her eyes and kissed her on the cheek before leaving the room to make the many calls to relatives to advise them of the despondent news. I couldn’t  take another minute of it, I had to step outside. I went onto the front porch and let myself sink onto the floor. I lit a cigarette and found myself wondering if she was still amongst us in spirit. Was she here watching those she left behind?

Sitting there on the floor staring at nothing in particular, I exhaled a cloud of smoke, and whispered out to the shadows “I love you grandma Dudsy, may you rest in peace.”

Midight Demons

Midnight. Why is it these thoughts always come to plague me at midnight? For the last hour or so  I’ve been staring at the ceiling fan spinning like a ballerina on crack, threatening to break off from whatever it is that holds it in place. Very much like my life at this moment, barely holding on by the last screws, waiting for another disappointment to come along and finish off with it. What once was a room I looked forward to now seems empty and lugubrious.  Suddenly I can see every defect on the walls, every crack, every stain, and every imperfection. The grey walls seem to echo the sad thoughts that take up residence within my skull, and even the reflections in the mirror seem to stare back at me in disapproval. I find myself at another dead end. It was a brewing for some time now, but it finally boiled over. I can’t stand it anymore.

Unemployment has a way of kicking your ass like that, ask anybody. I’ve been without a job for about two months now and I am finally feeling the strain.  I’ve been submitting applications left and right to no avail. The sad thing is I attended school last year for training in the Medical field and that has proven to be a tree that bears no fruit. Money down the drain.   What I was slowly molding into a comfortable existence is now falling apart quicker than I care to admit. My cell phone service has been interrupted, I don’t drive to conserve the little gas I have left in the car, and I’ve had to resolve to ask for money to buy my cigarettes. That last one is how I truly know I’m in a shit hole, not being able to support my own vices. Pathetic. But life goes on as miserable as it may be.

You would think I would have it easier given I have a man to fall back on. Don’t get me wrong, he helps in any way he can, and I’m sure if it weren’t for him I would truly be lost. But the thing is he doesn’t understand my forlorn state of mind. He feels I’m in my current situation due to a lack of trying, and that’s what hurts me the most. Sometimes I feel as if I have nobody to turn to and that is why in turn I am reaching out to you, any reader who has the misfortune to come across my blog.

So throw me a pity party! I know whining about my problems never got me anywhere, but at this point that is all I can do. Get it off my chest in the hopes that tomorrow will be different. That tomorrow will be the day I get a call for a job. That tomorrow I won’t have to smoke charity cigarettes. Wishful thinking. But for now I’ll just listen to the metallic groans of the wobbly ceiling fan I mentioned before, the never ending barking of the mutts on the street, and the Rancheras blasting from the house next door. The neighbors have had one too many tonight… again. Here’s hoping that I will eventually dose off and get some sleep which is the only time my mind is at ease.

 

Huatussi, Sinaloa

I heard someone shuffling around in the kitchen and decided to get up even though it was only 4:30 in the morning. I hadn’t gotten much sleep that night given that the weather was pretty humid and still I had wrapped myself in a blanket. Ever since I can remember I’ve never been able to fall asleep unless I was covered, and in this case it was the same. So the last few hours had become a battle with the entangling sheets and night long sweats. I couldn’t wait to get in the shower and wash away my troubled sleep. His parents had let us take up residence in the guest bedroom which housed two twin sized beds and a dresser we could use for our things. I was stoked we were to have our own room during our visit, but his mother was more cunning than she let on and made sure we would not be in the same bed. I suppose it was best, the last thing I needed was to be caught in the middle of the night with my shorts around my ankles and with their son pounding away from behind. That definitely would be something difficult to explain. I stepped out of the room and found his mother in the kitchen preparing breakfast. By the looks of it she was making huevos con chorizo and frijoles, with flour tortillas of course.

“Buenos días” I yawned.

“Buenos días, Miguel. You hungry? Want me to whip you up some breakfast?”

“I’m not really that hungry yet, thank you. But I would die for a cup of coffee. Do you have any ma’am?”

She motioned for me to take a seat in one of the white metal stools she had up against the bar that divided the kitchen from the dining room. She was quick in pulling out the coffee, sugar, and a mug from one of the many cupboards that lined the entire kitchen. She set the items before me and filled the “World’s Best Mother” mug with boiling water from a red kettle I hadn’t seen on the stove.

“Here you go, milk’s in the fridge, help yourself” she stated as she returned back to the pans on the stove.

Instant coffee is not real coffee as far as I’m concerned, but beggars can’t be choosers so I hastily prepared my coffee and watched his mother slaving away at the stove while I drank it.

“You always up this early?” I asked as I felt the hot coffee make its way into my body, waking any nerves that were still in deep slumber.

“I’m afraid so, my husband likes to go for a walk before the sun is out. So I make him his breakfast while he’s out so that he has something to eat when he gets back.”

Now that was devotion. You wouldn’t find me cooking breakfast at this time, no matter who asked me to. That’s what McDonalds is for after all, they like to see you smile, as for me I like to see you leave me the fuck alone while I sleep.

Three cups of coffee later and after her husband and Helio had joined us, we found ourselves discussing that day’s agenda. We had no solid plans, I just knew I wanted to get to know more of the area. As it would turn out, his mother wanted to go visit a friend of the family in the neighboring town of Huatussi. Helio explained to me it was a waterfront town where the main trade was fishing and supplying fresh seafood for the area. Sounded interesting enough, then again anything to get out of the house sounded interesting enough to me.

We all took turns jumping into the shower after breakfast and I found myself homesick all of a sudden. Showering alone was no fun at all. But like I mentioned before, it was just the way things had to be, at least for now. Once we were all ready we piled into our car and started the drive out to Huatussi. I was somewhat bored since the stereo was off given on account that his mother would much rather talk the whole way there. And I found myself nodding in agreement and giving my “Oh, that’s so interesting” bullshit replies to her while I puffed on my cigarettes.  

Soon enough I saw a sign stating we were arriving in Huatussi. The town was build on a mountainside and given that, we would not be able to drive the car all the way to the friend’s home. We parked the vehicle at the base of the mountain next to a crumbling church which appeared to have been yellow in color at some point, but now it was caked in salt from the sea and pigeon shit. We started our ascension on one of the many paths that wound their way up the mountain leading to the various homes. I use the word path because that is exactly what it was, a dirt path, more like an alley to be honest, littered in lose stones and trash that hitched a ride on the winds.

The homes all appeared to have sprung out of the ground one day to another much like unattended weeds as there was no particular order to them. They zig -zagged from side to side as did the alleys we walked through. I felt as we were walking through some sad, pathetic apartment complex as the homes were all but four feet apart from one another. They all however were connected to each other, like a twisted network by the multitude of wire lines with moist laundry still hanging from them. We must have decided to visit on laundry day since I noticed many a women outside on their patios wringing clothes on stones, beating the dirt right out of them. Most homes had their doors and windows wide open, to let in the breeze I’m assuming. But I was baffled as to why anybody would want THIS breeze; it was hot and stank of fish. But I suppose one becomes accustomed to the stench after living here for so long. As for me, I found the rancid odor appalling. But it seemed quite ordinary to the number of dirty, little children with tangled hair running around playing a game of Las Escondidas.

I could begin to feel the strain in my calves as we continued on our way uphill. I found myself wondering if the friend happened to live on the very peak of the mountain, knowing my luck they most likely did. Along the way we passed a tiny shop that had chips and sodas displayed for sale and a sign that let people walking by know they sold other things like Chilendrinas, Elotes, and Raspas.

"We'll come back in a bit" Helio whispered to me noticing I was eyeing the store. "They sell some Chicharrones with Chamoy that will make you orgasm!"

"You don't say? I'm overdue for an orgasm" I laughed in response while poking him in the ribs.

Finally his mother turned right on one of the intersecting paths and started climbing some steps. We had reached the friend's home, close to the top of the mountain I might add. The home was small in size like were many of it's neighbors. It was made up of giant cinder blocks painted a hot pink with lime green curtains blowing in the putrid air. Who picks out the color schemes down here I laughed internally. We were greeted at the door by an older woman named Esperanza, she was short and withered, time had not been kind to her. Her copper skin appeared to be stretched tightly over her fragile bones. She was dressed in a navy blue skirt with a white belt tied around her tiny waist and a blouse of the same white. Her auburn hair, tied up in a bun, was accented by many silver hairs that shone in the sun. But her eyes, I don't think I had seen kinder eyes before. A mesmerizing steel blue, and you could tell by them she indeed had seen plenty in her lifetime.

She greeted us all with a warm smile and invited us into her home. The front door led into a minuscule living room crowded by two green sofas and a black center table. You had to walk sideways just to squeeze through into the next room. The kitchen however was gigantic in size and I was astonished at how a room of this proportion could possibly fit in such a tiny home. Never the less, there we stood, next to a gigantic wooden table that sat twelve. The counter tops and counters were set against the back wall with a chrome stove and fridge. I could smell that Esperanza was preparing some sort of seafood in a large pot that lay on the stove.

"Do you like Ceviche? It will be ready soon" she asked me, noticing I was sniffing the air.

"Absolutely!" I lied.

Just then his mother interjected, "Helio, didn't you mention Miguel has never been to the ocean? Why don't you take him down to the docks and see what he thinks of it?"

It was true, I had never had the opportunity to visit the ocean before and I was quite excited at the chance to do so now. I turned towards Helio and I'm more than sure that my eyes said it all as he nodded in agreement.

"We're going to stop at the store first, is there anything I can get you?" I asked his mother and her friend.

"We're fine young man" Esperanza replied. "You go on down and see the ocean, it is quite beautiful this time of year."

Helio and I made our way back out of the crowded home and headed straight for the shop we had passed moments ago. The shop was dark and stuffy and we were attended by a tall, thick man dressed in blue jeans and a green, checkered shirt. He wore a brown baseball cap with the Nike logo on it that that looked two sizes too small for his swollen head. But he wore a smile that made you feel welcomed and so we proceeded to order two bags of Chicharrones with Chamoy. We devoured the treat on our way back down from the mountain. Helio wasn't lying, they were delicious! Apparently they make about 30 different kinds of Chamoy in these parts opposed to just the one kind back home.

We found ourselves at the ocean front soon enough, it was a long walk as I found out that Huatussi was a peninsula and the beach wrapped all around it. The ground was moist from the occasional wave that washed up and I found myself somewhat struggling as my feet would sink into the ground. I soon found myself fighting of the hundreds of gnats that flew around in the air, all determined to assault my face. One of the draw backs from living this close to water I suppose. But, I didn't care really, I was too busy enjoying it all. Suddenly, I didn't notice the stench of fish in the air, or just how much poverty surrounded me. For at that moment, Huatussi seemed the most beautiful place on Earth!

The water edge was lined with numerous small speed boats, all tied to wooden poles, some of which were being prepared for a ride out into the deeper waters by the locals. Out in the waters I saw more of these speed boats bobbing as the occupants hauled giant nets filled with that day's catch onto it. The sky was filled with seagulls and sandpipers soaring, and all around me men in black, rubber fishing boots were hauling bags full of shrimp. Off in the distance I could make out some mountains, deep in the water. Helio told me it was a small island which no one had set up residence on. It was still in all it's natural state, overgrown with trees and shrubs. He also mentioned that during the summer, the locals all take boats out to the island and spends days doing nothing but drinking and dancing to music next to raging bonfires. Pity we hadn't come in the summer, I would have rather enjoyed the primitive festivities. The sounds of the waves crashing onto the shore were calming and even the cries of the birds over us seemed a soothing melody.

"I could definitely see myself living here" I stated to Helio.

"Are you crazy, the fucking mosquitoes would eat us alive!"

"Oh, fuck the mosquitoes! This is what it's all about. Look around you, these people are happy. And why shouldn't they be, with this amazing view!"

"Your first day at the ocean and already you're thinking of moving here?"

"It wouldn't be a bad thing, that's for sure and besides how much could it cost to rent one of these tiny cinder block homes?" I laughed.

We continued on our walk and eventually came upon a dock. I ran out on it and sat on the edge looking out into the churning waters much like you would expect somebody in a movie to do.  I would have taken off my shoes and stuck my feet in the water if it had been higher. I took out my cigarettes and lit one.

"What are you doing?" Helio inquired.

"Unlike you, this is my first time here. I'm going to enjoy every last minute of it."

Back on the beach a midget of a man rode a bicycle with an ice chest attached to the front.

"Cerveza fria, cerveza fria" I heard him calling out.

"Is he selling beer?" I asked Helio.

"Why do you act so surprised? This is Mexico after all" was his reply.

I shot up and ran after the man, calling him to stop. Once I caught up to him I proceeded to order a six pack of Tecates that set me back 50 pesos. How convenient I thought to myself. I took the six pack and made my way back to the dock. I handed one to Helio and took one for myself before taking a seat once again.

"We best hurry, Esperanza was making Ceviche and fish fillets for us to eat" Helio stated to me while taking a swig from his beer.

"Oh, she can wait. Who knows when I'll ever have another chance to enjoy a beer and a cigarette on the beach again."

Helio sat down besides me and took my cigarette from my lips. He took a deep puff and handed it back to me. Everything was perfect in that moment. I didn't have a care in the world. I had everything I could possibly ask for just then, a man by my side, a cold beer in my hand, and that amazing view.

La Trinidad

I was startled out of my sleep as the car hit a bump on the road. I’m not sure when I dosed off exactly, but according to Helio I had been out for the last hour or so. I wiped the sleep away from my eyes and peered out the window. I realized we were in another town as I could make out buildings on the side of the road, dark blurs that sprung out from the ground. Upon asking, I learned we finally reached our destination of La Trinidad, Sinaloa. It was early the next morning, Christmas morning, during the grey hour that belongs neither to night or day, and the town was still hidden in shadows since the sun hadn’t risen yet. Helio found the dirt path that led to his parents’ home from memory as I found myself anxious to get out of the vehicle and off the never ending road.  The house was a small building laying on the corner of the street, made of bricks painted a bright Persian blue with a white iron gate surrounding the entire property. Within the gates a garden fabricated of an assortment of fruit trees and bushes that bore flowers of all colors imaginable flourished in all its savage glory. We parked in the driveway and were greeted by his mother, Ofelia. A short, dark skinned woman with Indian characteristics. Her hair was cut short, most likely to avoid having to spend hours trying to tame it as it went wild in the humidity that was common in La Trinidad. She was still dressed in a green nightgown covered in tiny pink flowers and it was evident that she hadn’t gotten much sleep, most likely due to the fact that we hadn’t arrived sooner, her face looked abnormally weary and bland since she wore no makeup. She took Helio in her arms in a tight embrace, kissing him on his forehead obviously relieved her son had made the trip safely. 

After greeting me, she ushered us into her home and directly into her kitchen where she was quick to serve us up a plate crammed full with tamales from the night before, and two cups of very much needed coffee.  I scanned my surroundings while devouring the delectable meal his mother had served us. We were in a large room that included the kitchen, dining room, and living room all with the same blue cement floor, apparently these people were fond of the color blue. The walls were painted an off white color with a variety of framed painting of saints hanging from rusted nails. The kitchen was the first room I surveyed, a small beige stove stood in the corner with a large metal pot resting on it which made the stove look all the more miniscule. Next to that there was a white metal table where the dish rack and black microwave were kept, and hiding behind the open door, stood the refrigerator covered in a variety of magnets. The entire kitchen was wrapped in light brown cupboards and there was only one window, by the sink, dressed in Pepto-Bismol pink curtains. The living room was an array of mismatch furniture including two bulging, brown couches lumpy and deformed from overuse, a wooden center table with a book tucked under one of its legs and a warped shelf where the ancient television set complete with bunny ear antennae rested. In the far corner stood a shriveling Christmas tree that I'm sure had seen better days, veiled in faded ornaments and twinkling multi-colored lights. I was snapped out of my critique of the home by Ofelia’s voice just then.

“How do you like our Rancho?” she asked in her low monotone voice.

“Oh, it’s quite beautiful, ma’am” I lied.

What else was I supposed to say? I was after all staying in her home which she opened to me, her son’s “good friend “. Don’t get me wrong, I had seen much worse than this, but I couldn’t help myself in my critique of the home. Let’s just say their home was humble for lack of a better word. But at least this way we would avoid having to pay for a hotel and after all they had internet so I wouldn’t be dying of boredom.

Upon finishing our meal, we unloaded the car and then the three of us took a seat in the living room and discussed the details of our trip, details that you, the reader, already know. Ofelia was going through the gifts we had brought them from Juarez glorifying anything that her favorite son had picked out just for her when we were startled by a loud explosion coming from outside. The lights all went out and we were left sitting in darkness.  The first thing to cross my mind was gun shots but as it turned out, it was nothing so dramatic, just a blown up transformer on a light pole outside.

“Looks like a sign I should start getting ready for church” his mother laughed. “Would you mind giving me a ride once I’m ready?”

Of course, we agreed to take her to mass, how could we say no? Once his mother had made herself decent enough for mass, we all jumped into the car and made our way over to La Iglesia De La Santisima Trinidad which stood in the middle of the tiny pueblo. Sitting in the backseat, since mother must go in the front, I observed the scenery.  The homes, all a different hue from the vast spectrum of colors, were build in front of the dirt road, the same dirt road that was rampant with stray dogs and groups of locals walking around only stopping at the corner to share that day’s juicy gossip. I noticed that the shops were already opening for business even though it was too early and Christmas morning none the less, yet there they were, lifting the heavy metal sheets that were used to secure the shops windows at night. It appeared each home came complete with an older woman to sweep the patio with brooms made of branches and to water their share of the dirt road mentioned above.  The air was filled with the sound of Roosters singing their daily melody to the sun up above and around each corner my eyes were assaulted with greenery as Mother Nature reigned here with her monstrous trees towering everywhere. La Trinidad was one of those towns where everybody knew everybody and it was evident as people on the streets would greet us as we passed, even me, an outsider.  Yes, we found ourselves in a tiny Mexican town where people would rather walk than drive, which wasn’t surprising since it would seem there were far more horses to ride than there were automobiles. The park around the corner was filled with barefooted children, all different shades of copper, climbing the rusted bars of the playground like tiny monkeys would a tree. And the market was filled with Las Comadres out to buy produce and meats for that evening’s meal and of course to complain about how lazy their husbands back home were. There was no doubt in my mind that this town was forgotten by time.

We dropped off his mother at the local church, a small adobe chapel with wooden doors covered in carvings of angels slaying demons, and were soon on our way to explore the town. When I say explore I’m referring to myself as Helio grew up here, so what I really meant to say is we were soon on our way so that Helio could give me the grand tour of the place.  In all honesty there wasn’t much to see in this forgotten corner of the world, it was after all just a simple town. But Helio assured me he would take me to the places worth visiting in the days to come, including the beach that was less than half an hour away. But none the less, I enjoyed the drive, and was amused as Helio showed me the schools he had gone to and the different places he liked to get in trouble at. It was great finally getting an image to apply to the many stories he had shared with me before, and I found myself recalling these stories, asking him if that was the ditch where he lost his virginity, or if that was the store where they found the butcher who suffered a heart attack, dead in the freezer. Things here were peaceful and the climate was amazing and it was a nice change from the bustling streets back in Juarez littered in trash and countless beggars who attacked you for whatever change you had in your pocket.

I was reminded by the sharp jabs in my stomach that lunchtime had come around and we started discussing what to grab to eat. Helio mentioned a stand in the middle of town that sold some delicious shrimp cocktails. I was surprised he even thought of seafood since the thought of it made me sick. But he mentioned he had been craving them for the longest now given that they didn’t make them the same back home so I decided to go along with the idea. I figured, what the hell, you’re in Sinaloa try something different.  We found ourselves at the stand sooner than later and we exited the car to go order some of these, according to Helio, delicious cocktails. The stand was called Mariscocos La Mora and was located on the principal street that cut through La Trinidad, the only paved road which with only two lanes, one for going and one for coming.  The stand was built in the front yard of the owner’s home and was made up of white, rusted sheets of metal surrounding a blue tiled countertop complete with a working sink. The floor surrounding the stand was cluttered with coconuts, which Helio told me grew in abundance in these parts. Apparently, the cocktails were served in hollowed coconut shells.  The establishment was surrounded by locals all waiting anxiously for their turn to order and a man of about thirty with dark, oily skin and dressed like he had stepped out of a old western movie was busy hacking away at the coconuts he picked up right off of the floor.

“You sure you want to try these?” Helio questioned me.

“What do I got to lose?” I replied. “Anyways, if I don’t like them you can just eat mine and I’ll find something else to eat.”

We proceeded to order two Mariscocos and waited patiently as the man prepared them. I was viewing in awe as the man hacked open the coconuts with a giant machete, half expecting him to lose some fingers at any moment. But he had been doing this for some time now and was an expert with the blade, no fingers in our shrimp cocktails today. Just then, I heard a man screaming down the street and turned to find a man walking in our direction yelling obscenities at nobody in particular. I could tell by the way he walked, slumped over and stumbling with one arm twisted at his side, that he was obviously mentally challenged. He wore some dirty, baggy jeans and a purple cotton t-shirt. He too was dark complected as was the norm in these parts, and had a head full of mangy, pitch black hair. Even from this distance I could see that the man was missing various teeth and whatever teeth he did possess were stained yellow and covered in decay. The owner must have seen the expression on my face because he assured me that the man was harmless and would probably just pass us by. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case, because as soon as he reached us he started babbling something I couldn’t make out, some crazy talk only he could decipher. I tried to be polite and smiled at him but this only further provoked him as he reached out with his good arm and grabbed me by my right arm. I was startled to say the least, and found myself panicking as I couldn’t tear myself away from his deadly grasp. I peered into his face, slim and birdlike with his long pointed nose and I could smell his foul breath as he proceeded to scream at me, spitting with every word.  

“Jose! Let him go!” the owner of the stand yelled at my attacker. But he either couldn’t hear him or didn’t care much for his words.  I grabbed his arm and finally managed to pull free from him jumping back and away from him but to my horror, he followed me!

“Give him some change, that’s probably what he wants” the owner of the stand called out to me. Without hesitation I reached into my pocket and pulled out whatever coins I had in there. I handed them over to him and much to my surprise he calmed down. He pocketed what I gave him and then just continued on his way.

“What the fuck was that all about” I exclaimed, never once removing my sight from the crazy incase he decided to come back.

“That was Jose, the local nut bag”

“He shouldn’t be let out on his own. That shit was fucked up! I just about shit my god damn pants!”

The three of us laughed as I realized that some locals had been viewing the whole thing.  Yet nobody had lifted a finger to do anything about it.

“My first day here and I almost lost my fucken arm over some change.” I said turning back towards Helio.

He however was laughing, at me I might add.

“What’s so god damn funny?”

“You should have seen your face!”

“Well, I’d like to see how you would have reacted. And thanks for not doing anything asshole!”

“Well, that’s over now. Now let’s eat these shrimp cocktails, you’re gonna love them!”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I realized I had queened out, pretty much like you might expect one of “us” to react to a spider.  I forgot about the ordeal soon enough as we were handed our shrimp cocktails and we took a seat at a nearby table.

“These so better be worth it punk, after what just happened.” I shot at Helio.

I dug into the coconut and was amazed at how large the shrimp were.  Helio mentioned they catch them fresh here and that’s why they were so good, no preservatives added to them like the shrimp we have back home.  I finished every last bit of it much to Helio’s amazement, and we poured back into the car.

“What do you want to do now?” Helio asked.

“I need a fucken beer. I’m still a bit worked up from earlier”

“Yes sir! One beer coming right up”

The car rattled to a start and we drove off in search of a store where we could get some beer.

Pulled Over In Cananea

Red and blue lights flashed violently in the rearview mirror as we were escorted off the road by the officer that Helio had decided to cut off just now.  We were in Cananea, Sonara which was another of those tiny Mexican towns littered in convivially colored homes all built on mountain sides. Complete with random shops selling everything from tires to vegetables springing up on the side of the road all along the way.  It lays about an hour south from Bisbee, Arizona and is known for its copper mine which happens to be the largest in the Americas.  But that really doesn’t matter since it’s not as if we stopped to purchase copper.  It was after all just another pit stop on our drive through Mexico.  What mattered at the moment was finding our way out of this town and out of this predicament. The road had become a mess of turn arounds and what not and we couldn’t, for the love of god, find the way out. Which is what lead to Helio drastically turning into the wrong lane and into the path of a local police officer. Once we pulled over into one of the intersecting roads, a lonely deserted dead end path, the officer began his instructions over a loudspeaker.

“Turn off the vehicle and place your hands on the steering wheel.”

Three officers exited the truck, a blue Ford F150 with the word “Policia” in bold white letters, and made their way over to our vehicle, standing next to the driver side window. The leader of the group, a dark skinned man with a salt and pepper mustache, and looking like he had squeezed into his uniform this morning, leaned over and after peeling off his shades from his face looked Helio straight in the eyes. He placed a hand on his revolver that hung from his belt, obviously trying to pull off the intimidation card.

“Hand me your driver’s license” he grunted.

Helio did as he was told while I tried to look as suspicious less as humanly possible.  It was in my best interest not to get any unwanted attention and by the looks of these guys, they were not playing around. They stared us down while adjusting their uniforms and only turning around to spit on the floor every now and then.

“What are you guys doing so far away from Chihuahua?” he asked noticing the license plates on our vehicle.

Helio went on to explain we were just driving through on our way to visit his family and lost our way. The officer, without a reply, handed the license over to one of his companions and asked him to run it through the system. Wiping away the sweat from his forehead, he opened the driver side door and ordered Helio to step out of the vehicle and proceeded to empty out the contents of Helio’s pockets onto the hood of the car, tossing them like common trash.

“You get off too” he ordered staring in my direction.

I stepped out onto the street, my eyes squinting due to the sun blasting on my face, and perhaps out of habit, placed my hands on the hood and spread my legs apart, ready to be searched. The third officer, a skeleton of a man with a shiny bald head, came over to me and also started taking out my belongings from my pockets, flinging them onto the hood just like his friend. First my cell phone, then my cigarettes, and finally my wallet.

“Great, these assholes are going to take my money” I thought as I recalled that I was carrying over a thousand dollars in my wallet for the trip.

“You got any identification on you” the officer barked into my ear while he patted me down. I grabbed my wallet from the hood of the car and handed him my Texas driver’s license and then went back into the position I was in before.

“Well, what do we have here? Un Gabacho” he laughed as he realized I was from the states. “What brings you into Mexico Americano?”

“Driving through, sir” I answered mirroring Helio’s response.

The first officer who appeared to have finished searching through Helio’s pockets walked over to him and began to look over my driver’s license as if he knew how to read English, “You´re telling me you got family in Mexico too?”

“No sir, I can’t say that I do. I just came along for the drive.”

“Well, that’s too bad because given that your friend here almost caused an accident, we’re going to have to take him in. I’m sure you’re aware however, that you can’t drive a Mexican Vehicle with your “American” license right?”

But before I could respond, the officer who had been running Helio’s license through the system had placed Helio’s hands behind his back and was rigidly escorting him towards the truck. I couldn’t make out what Helio was saying but I’m more than sure it was something along the lines of asking why they were arresting him. I couldn’t believe it, he was being arrested over an accident that never came to be. Was it actually necessary for him to be taken in? Couldn’t they just let us go with a warning like they do so often in the states?

“What’s going to happen now” I inquired.

“We’re taking him down to the station and fining him” he stated with one finger digging into his ear.  “Once we’ve gotten all his information into our system and he pays off his fine, he’ll be free to go in a couple of hours” he continued as he wiped whatever he found in his ear onto his pants.

My mind reeled off thinking of ways to get out of this situation. Then, recalling that we were in Mexico, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “That sounds like a lot of unnecessary work on your part, sir. Perhaps we could find a way to settle the matter here?”

“What did you have in mind, Americano?”

I crossed my fingers and hoped that the law enforcement here was just as greedy as the pigs back in Juarez. “Well, you say he’s going to have to pay a fine, right? I was thinking maybe we could just give you the money here, and that way you wouldn’t have to go all the way back to the station.”

The officer stood in silence as I could tell he was contemplating my proposal, deciding whether or not to accept my bribe. He must have been thinking harder than what he was accustomed to because his eyes were ping-ponging back and forth in their dark eye sockets. I looked towards the truck and noticed that Helio was already sitting in the bed with an oppressed expression on his face. “I know that we could have caused a terrible accident, sir. But if you’d just give us a chance, we’ll pay the fine and be out of your city soon enough” I stated trying to push my offer onto him even more.

“The fine is going to add up to 500 pesos” he muttered at me snapping out of his daze.

“No problem officer. I can pay the fine here with you and we’ll be more careful in the future.”

“You guys seem like good kids… and the station is out of our way. I guess we can help you out this once, but make sure to head straight out of town after this. I don’t want to have to change my mind.”

I didn’t think twice as a jumped for my wallet and handed him the 500 pesos, which is roughly around forty dollars. I thanked him for his kindness as he put up the bills towards the sky, using the sun to check that they weren’t counterfeit. Once he was satisfied I didn’t hand him Monopoly money, he whistled to grab his companion’s attention and signed for him to let Helio go. The bed was pulled open, letting out a metallic groan, and Helio hopped off of the truck in one swift movement. The officers indicated we could pick up our belongings from the hood of the car and be on our way but not before taking a few cigarettes out of my pack. We collected everything off of the hood, double checking to make sure they hadn’t pocketed anything other than those cigarettes during our encounter and jumped back into our seats. They stood by the truck and watched us like hawks as we did all of this. As we drove back onto the main road I noticed that the officers were splitting the money amongst themselves. Thank God for greedy bastards.

Escaping into La Sierra

The vehicles all around me began to spring back to life, with their motors in an uproar. People running to and fro seeking out their loved ones and traveling companions. Grinding their cigarettes into the dirt before diving back into their seats, adjusting their rearview mirrors and snapping their seatbelts back into place. The road it would appear, had finally been opened, and everyone was scrambling about trying to be the first ones out of this hell hole we had all been stuck in for far too long. I felt relief overcome me as I closed the book I had been reading for the past couple of hours now. After spending a night and the better half of a day here in Janos, I was more than eager to hit the road again. I turned all about seeking Helio in the crowds who had left a few minutes ago to purchase another pack of cigarettes. He appeared shortly thereafter, emerging from the clouds of dust the cars peeling off left behind. He jumped into the car with cigarettes in hand and a smile on his face. Apparently, he was just as eager to get going as I was. He started the car and sped towards the road which reminded me of a trail of marching ants, given the amount of cars all driving out in a single line. Helio turned on the radio and selected one of the many tunes we had downloaded for this trip, mainly all house music. You know, the kind of music you listen to when you’re high on ecstasy at the club. I lit a cigarette from the new pack Helio just purchased and let myself get carried away by the music. I was too happy to care about making a fool of myself, dancing in my seat. We were finally leaving Janos, that was reason enough to dance!

The sun was hanging midway across the sky as it usually does at noon, hidden by the few solitary clouds that remained. The winds had calmed down considerably from this morning, yet there still was a coldness that lingered.  We zoomed down the highway, taking the left lane for oncoming traffic to pass sluggish drivers up ahead, determined to make up for lost time. We had spent about twelve hours in Janos, twelve hours we couldn’t get back on a drive that was going to take twenty hours more or less. So you can understand why driving considerably above the speed limit seemed not such a bad idea. The drive was going smoothly as we left the sad town of Janos behind us. It would seem the worst had past, but you know appearances can be deceiving. And so it was on this occasion, for when we reached the base of the mountain, we were forced to come to a complete stop yet again.

A never ending line of vehicles, most likely the ones who just fled Janos, had formed along the road through the mountain. We tried to look up ahead, but given that the road was a winding entanglement cutting through said mountain, our sight was blocked off by massive walls of stone. What I didn’t realize at that point was that the road ahead had its fair share of broken down semis and the traffic had to be alternated to get as much of us through at a time as possible.  So what would normally be about 40 minutes of road, turned out to be 3 hours of stop and go traffic.

The temperature dropped more and more the further we climbed the mountain in the languid traffic. The trees and bushes that covered the trail were blanketed in a layer of snow that appeared to be made of alabaster and the road glistened with the layer of ice it was dressed in. The once barren sky was now filled with lazy clouds dragging themselves across from one end to the other. Time seemed to stop completely here, very much like the flow of traffic. The only good thing to come of this agonizing wait was I now had the opportunity to take in the breath taking view. Making sure to burn these images into memory so that I would not soon forget them. Helio however seemed to be less than happy with the situation and gave away his unease by the way he would fidget in his seat. I found it rather amusing to be quite honest, but I wasn’t about to mention it to him.

The road went on in its serpent like shape, winding this way and that with its numerous signs constantly reminding us of the dangerous curves we were to surpass up ahead. The icy road seemed that more dangerous once I realized there were no guardrails to keep us from plummeting off the side of the mountain. Nothing but air and the free fall down to our certain deaths if we as so much as blinked in the wrong moment. Yes, those dangerous curves that were all that much more menacing as we had to move closer to the edge for semis driving in the opposite direction to make their wide turns. I found myself praying for some unknown god’s blessing so that we would make it across safely.

We reached the highest point of the mountain about an hour later where I got off the car too take in the view. I was so dazzled by it all that I even ignored the cold winds nipping at my face. Artists could not paint such a stunning scene even if they tried. The lands of Mexico stretched far beyond what the eye could see. Fields of green and amber bathing in the sun, the same sun that ignored the many of us stuck on this mountain. Just barely escaping the freezing clutches of the cold weather that chased after us now. I was glad the traffic was so horrible, if it hadn´t been I most likely would not have been standing there and missed the entire beauty of it all.

Soon enough we started on our decent of the mountain which wasn’t proceeding much quicker than the climb. But at least we knew we had the worst part behind us now. We passed more of the deceased semis on our way down and were lucky enough to be on the side of the road that the officers were letting go through. I noticed that the line of traffic coming from the opposite direction was just as bad, no end to be seen. As we started to reach the opposite foot of the mountain I felt the sudden change of climate. The wind here was alleviating as it was warm and brought promises of the beautiful weather Mexico had to offer. No more of the ruthless cold back home.

We drove on, finally picking up momentum as the mountain became just a memory soon enough. The vehicle pushing on through the highway whose path had been cut through stone in some places. The trees here grew in their entire green splendor with no frost to devour their leaves and even the birds seemed to bask in the warmth the sun’s golden beams brought. I was delighted to say the least and relieved now that I could enjoy the drive for a change.

By the time we reached the town of Agua Prieta, I had already shed my sweater and warm ups very much like a snake that sheds its skin. We realized that we were almost out of gasoline and decided to make a pit stop to fill up. Agua Prieta was a town build on either side of the main road, with many dirt paths leading to the multicolored homes that are so common in Mexico. But this town was further along with the current times as they at least had a Mc Donald’s and Subway along the way. We pulled into a local Pemex and as soon as we were topped off, we both took the time to check in with family members. Our stay in Agua Prieta was a short one, as we still had plenty of land to cover until we reached Sinaloa, Mexico. So as soon as we emptied our bladders and bought more refreshments, which included more smokes, we were on our way once again.

I pulled out my shades from the glove box as I lit yet another cigarette. I found myself amusing at the thought of me being this far into Mexico. Who would have thought? I know if a year ago you had mentioned to me I would be taking this voyage, I would have laughed in your face and written you off as mental. But yet here I was, on a trip into Mexico I would have never dreamed of taking. I took Helio’s hand in mine as we drove out of Agua Prieta, looking off into the horizon. Who knows what Mexico will have in store for me? But, I’ll tell you this, I sure as hell am eager to find out.

Ever since I went to Sinaloa, I've been smoking twice as much as I used to. I know it's bad, but it's almost impossible to fight this little monster that craves them!