CH. 3

3.

Still had the jarhead haircut and the trans-fat from the gringos, but I was sitting in the back of the classroom chatting up a girl of my new high school, the only one in town that not required uniforms, so I was ok.

Rectangular and short shaped pigtails classmate burst in interrupting the lonely teacher: –“Something real bad is going on. Y’all must come to the cafeteria a.s.a.p.”-

One smoking tower on the television. Zoom and bang, two. Fainted jaws, awes then silence.

–“This is definitely Hollywood’s greatest creation yet.”- I said.

-“No!”- Pigtails, standing next to me, replied, horrified. –“This is really happening.”-

-“I know, precisely my point.”-

I don’t know the right cadastral measurements to a beautiful sky, but home’s complies with them all. It’s like a massive, carefully polished, living dome, chewing on the horizon’s land. It always strikes as massive.

By that time, back from soldier school, things were starting to go a bit turbo. I mean, it always has, and always will be, a wild northern Mexican town, whether you liked it or not, but it wasn´t so bad.

If you was a boy, and were to grow up there, you just had to learn how to keep your hands up, that’s all. For the rest, we had a lot of lack of restrictions. Front doors unlocked, kids tussling in the parks, inexistent traffic, snowy Christmases, no telling mom were I was, skating to girls houses with my best shirt tucked in and drops of sweaty hair gel running down my forehead. It became, it is, home.

But things were brutally changing then. We built a freeway, all fucked up design wise, but at least looked like the gringo ones. Wal-Mart was in town, and it was big. Twelve-movie cinemas. Shitloads of McDonalds. Hummer agencies, selling nutty. Fancy bad tasted humongous private residential complexes, even aerospace machinery developing industries. We were doing so well, that human traffickers used to drop their cargo in the middle of all this, by telling them that they were already in the United States. Pretty cool, huh?

We must’ve been mighty good at whatever it was we were doing those days. It was said we were one of the fastest developing cities in all of the Latin ones. Some major claimed we had the most advanced police in the country, since we’d bought a couple of night vision helicopters from the Americans. We really had it going.

Who would’ve thought, giving it a few years, that it would turn into the center of the deadliest state in the world.

It’s fairly easy to differentiate the druggies, from the merely alcoholics, on high school campus, they virtually group apart in open spaces.

I approached the interesting ones and catch up with a story that a weird looking guy, not blonde, not ginger, something in between, was telling. 

He’d joyridden his dad’s Audi TT while high on ecstasy with a girl sitting on the copilot’s wanting to have a go, speakers slating.

Kovu, he was from another city of the north. He had a lower back tattoo with his juvenile corrections system’s nickname, a souvenir from Texas. Face, it was, and I never knew how he got there. He spoke with the most annoying accent, knew about all of this bands that were new to me, had his own car, was a couple of years older, and most importantly, was full of drug related tales that I so much wanted to reenact.   

Along came Freddy, with his imploded eggshell shaped cranium, licked back pavement hair, and horse like eyes, on one of which he dropped eight hits of acid, in one sitting, was probably one of the funniest looking blokes I’ve ever seen. Always showing gum gums under an exaggerated smile hanging from his Neanderthal shiny brown cheekbones. He arrived from Colorado were his dad was a wetback dealer. He had a GMC Silverado SUV black with pitch black tinted windows and golden wheels. On we went.

First we needed the pussy. I used to say that if a drug were to do drugs, it would do girls, as in; girls are the drug of drugs. In the highly short circuited society that I lived in, it appeared almost impossible to go about with the chicks that I grew up with, and my two new dodgy looking and acting mates, doing drugs and them as we wished. Adjustments had to be made.

We took one step down the financial ladder. Definitely not much of a riddle, it’s not like there’s anything else to give a man value, other than money, in a monetary system based civilization, is there? We went to the community schools, instead of the private ones, looking for birds, and before we knew it, we were rolling packed with females.

I wished that some of the higher breed gals that I knew, and walked with their asses pulled up to the sky, could’ve seen one of the firsts I got on our little entourage. She was thin and tall, holding the most elegant neck, like a swan’s, were I pasted my mouth as soon as she came jumping to the car, her hair always wet, as if she had just taken a shower every time. The only thing that seemed to keep her from being much better than the pedigree ones was that her Gucci bag was a knockoff. For the rest, she was banging.

She was the first woman that I ever sat with, in a place where nobody would find us, and agreed with: -“Let’s teach each other how to fuck.”-

I’d sex before, but were, in form, rushed circumstances. Those lock-ups with her were all about taking it easy and enjoy. It was pretty good, naked kids touching each other for hours, getting to know how every piece of the other and oneself felt.

I can’t really recall her name, and can’t tell whatever happened to her either. Drugs came, and they came hard.

I could spend a thousand words in stories of behavioral perdition, not much purpose to it, they come inherent to each. Better to talk about one’s feelings through them. Like that time staring under the thick cloud of heavy smoke erupting out the giant bamboo pipe going around all those absent faces that I could only see in intermittent strobe flashes through a black light filter, and all I could feel, was admiration. What we’d achieved, who we’d become. We snorted, we yelled, we inhaled, we forgot, we drank, we crashed, we bribed, we danced, we fought, we fucked, we lied, we hurt, we searched, we found, we broke, we ran, we enhanced, we exceeded. We wished it, and we got it tuned up. All it took was daring do what the rest only whispered in secret desire.