| Reason 4 We couldn't find Pedro. We (me and Shaun) got to this apartment building, right? So, we turn up there, and we go up to the apartment that is supposed to be Pedro's, and this fucking old Chinese woman answers the damn door! Starts yellin' and screamin' and shit. Doesn't speak a damn word of English. Doesn't know who the fuck Pedro is. That's why we're sitting on the front steps of the apartment building, not saying anything. Just sitting. We've been through that entire building. Knocked on every damn door. No Pedro. Some people had heard of him, or remembered him, but no one knew where he was now. They say he moved out about a month ago. Thanks for the heads up, cuz. "Wotchoo wanna do now?" Shaun asks, breaking the silence. It's getting towards sunset. We've been here all day. Even called the fucking landlord that owns this place. Even *he* didn't know where Pedro went. Says he moved out and didn't leave a forwarding address. I might've been able to understand this if I wasn't so fucking pissed off. See, my cousin, Pedro, he's not exactly a model citizen. He's kinda...sorta...*involved* in dealing. Drugs. Illegal imports like weapons and shit. But, y'know, that's the way my old man's side of the family is. The Ramirez side. Stick together like peanut butter and fluff, and, y'know, they are kinda into gangsta-dealings, but at least they'll keep me safe. Or bring me back with a vengeance. That's the way they operate, though. And I could live with that. But first, I have to find Pedro. "I don't know" I answer, because I seriously don't. How the hell am I supposed to find him now? You know how many 'Ramirez's there are in the phone book? And knowing Pedro with his dirty dealings, he won't be listed any damn ways. "Maybe, y'know, you should give this some thought..." Shaun suggests, looking over at me from where he's sitting on the bottom step, "I jus' mean. You got time, so...maybe you should decide if here is where you really want to be?". "Wot do you mean?" I ask, keeping up the scowl and keeping up the defenses. What the hell does he mean? I've already *thought* about this! This is what I want to do! This, well, it's not *exactly* where I want to be, but, I *will* find Pedro. I *will*. I'm *not* going back to Chino. No fucking way. "I just mean, shit" he presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, and is silent for a moment before looking up, "Yer a kid, Letty. Jus' a kid. This city, it ain't no place for a kid to be growin' up on they own, y'know? I can't be there for you all the time, and..". "I never asked you to be!" I snap, interrupting. Things will be fine. Just because we've hit a rough patch, he wants to bail. Makes me wonder how the hell he got through the years he's spent on the streets, if a minor set-back like this is gettin' his fucking pants in a knot. "I know you didn't" Shaun answers, turning to look at me because I'm sitting on the steps behind him, "But, Letty, you gotta think about this. Real hard. I know you thought when you left home that everything was going to be great. You thought it would be better. And maybe it *will* be better. For a little while. I've been here two years, Letty, and trust me, this shit you're gettin' right now, it ain't nothin' compared to wot I seen. You might think it's gonna be easy, or even fun, I don't know. But I *can* tell you, Letty, it's *not*. It's not easy. And it's certainly not fun". He thinks that I'm looking at this like it's a big game. A big joke. One huge great laugh. Well fuck him!! I *know* this is serious! I know that! I'm not a kid! I'm not stupid! I know this isn't going to be easy. When did I ever say it would be? Huh? How can he sit there and tell me what *I'm* thinking? What *I'm* feeling? He doesn't even know me! And I tell him this. "I know. But I *do* know your type. You don't know how many kids I've seen gettin' sucked into thinkin' life is good on the streets. It's not. There's is nothin' cool and nothing fun about it. It's hard and people die. Y'know? It ain't a game, Let. It's serious. I don't know why you came out here in the first place, but I can promise you, no one's gonna think you were too shit scared to hack it on the streets if you go home. Half the people out here, they *can't* go home. And unless your street was just hit by a rogue asteroid, you're not one of them" Shaun tells me. I'm in no mood for a lecture. I just wanna get some fucking sleep. I want to find Pedro. Damn, cuz, where are you? "I can't go home!" I yell at him, getting pretty fucking angry over here, "And I'm not gonna puss out just because of this. I *will* find Pedro, Shaun. And I don't need your fucking help!". With that, I get up, and start to storm off. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I'm just scared and angry and tired and all I want is for Shaun to tell me everything's gonna be OK, but he's not going to. I wish Elias was here. I wish V or Hector were here. They look out for me. They got my back. They would keep me safe. I miss them so much. And I'm so angry that it's burning me up inside. If it weren't for Chino and my fucking stoned whore of a mother, I could be home with them. With my keepers. And I could be happy. But I'm not. I'm here. I'm here and I've just pissed off the only fucking friend I've got right now and I'm scared and I don't know what to do. And I can't help but sink to the pavement and cry. I don't ever cry. Never. It doesn't help any fucking one, does it? But this time, I'm just so lost and alone that I can't help but give in and let it out. When you hurt on the inside, it's a million times worse than hurting on the outside, because you can't get to it. You can't rub it better or fix it with a bandaid and a big kiss. It eats away inside of you and you can't do a fucking thing about it. It takes someone else to make that pain go away. And right now, I don't have anyone to do that for me. And so, I cry. "Let" Shaun says softly, crouching behind me and resting his hands on my shoulders, gently and non-threateningly. I cover my eyes with my arm, feeling that I have to appear strong for him. Just like I have to look strong for Chino. For Dom. For everyone. If I'm not Letty-the-hardass, I'm no one. "It's OK, Let" Shaun continues, moving to face me, "It's alright. Please don't cry. I'm sorry". I'm so glad that he's staying with me and not abandoning me after the battering I just gave him that I cling to him as though he'll run away if I let go. "Lo siento" Shaun says, rubbing my shoulders while I cry all over him. No one speaks Spanish to me any more. Chino and Moms only use Spanish when they're screaming down each other's throats. Elias and Hector speak it to each other, sometimes, but not to me. I miss the way the words flow together like liquid. You can tell a Hispanic voice by the way their english doesn't flow together like it should. "I can get his address for you, mi chica. Please don't cry" Shaun adds, and I look up, rubbing hot tears away from my eyes. "How?" I ask, my voice sounding thick and akward because I'm choked up. I must look like a right fucking fool. Sitting here on the pavement with puffy red eyes, sooking all over this guy that I barely know. But Shaun's just given me a light at the end of the tunnel I'm currently stuck in. He can get Pedro's address. "I can call in a favor from a friend. He can get it for you" Shaun shrugs, wiping the tears from my cheeks, "No more tears, eh? We'll find your cousin, Let. Everythin' will be a'ight, OK? It'll all be fine. I'll look after you the best I can". I force a brave smile. We must look like a couple who just had a fight, mustn't we? Ha, if only they knew, ey? "OK" I nod, letting him help me up, "Thanks, Shaun". He shrugs, then ruffles my hair playfully, "Don't sweat it." * * * * * The favor to be called in is from someone called 'Angel'. At first I thought it was a chick, coz'a the name. Didn't sound too tough or intimidating, really. Shaun says it's just a nickname, and 'Angel' is most definitely a guy. Shaun also says he can get you *anything* for the right price. I'm expecting someone kind like, well, Pedro, really. In my experience, ethnicity plays a major part in who you choose to be friends with, so I'm guessing this 'Angel' is gonna be Hispanic, and I'm just presuming that he's older than Shaun, maybe late twenties, because of the influences he must have in order to access *anything*. I'm expecting he'll have his little posse of skanks, because power attracts that kind of unwanted attention. And, I suppose, I don't know...I just get this mental image of Pedro when I think of 'Angel'. That's why I'm kinda surprised when we actually find this guy. He's not Hispanic. He's not in his late twenties. He's not surrounded by skanks. And he doesn't look a thing like Pedro. He's white, for a start. Not, like, snowman-white, he's got a good Californian tan, but he's certainly not Hispanic. He only looks about twenty two, maybe twenty three. He's got two guys with him, but they look more like they're there for protection and intimidation, rather than skanking-duties. And, hell, the only similarity between he and Pedro is that they both have black hair. This guy, Angel, his hair ain't totally black though. It's short and kinda gelled and mussed and twisted into random spikes here and there, but where the light catches it, it looks dark blue, rather than the white sheen most people's hair takes on when in the light. He's got blue eyes that remind me of V (everything reminds me of home, doesn't it?) and he's got this scar that runs from almost the very middle of his top lip, up to his nose, along the edge of the indent everyone's got between their lip and their nose anyway. Maricruz, Dom and Mia's Moms, she told me this one time that sometimes when babies are born, they don't got a roof to their mouth. Mia always insists that this is extremely disgusting, but I think it'd be kinda cool. You could, like, touch your eyeballs with your tongue and stuff! How cool would that be!?! Anyway, Maricruz said that if you don't have a roof to your mouth, you can't suck on things (Not *those* kinda things! Get your mind outta the gutter!) like babies can't drink from bottles and stuff. So, doctors make this cut from their lip to their nose when they're old enough; they're not awake of course, it's an operation; and then they kinda...peel back the skin and they build them a roof to their mouth so that they don't starve to death coz they can't drink from a bottle. That's where those kinda scars come from, she says. Or, then again, he might've just gotten into a fight with some stupid ass cholo who tried to cut his mouth off or something. Who knows? "Shaun" this guy, Angel, seems happy to see him. They hug. It's not a sleazy gropey hug though, it's a brotherly 'haven't seen you in ages' kinda hug. I take the opportunity to try and sort out Angel's deal. He's dressed kinda thug-like, but that's all you can expect from a male in this kinda neighbourhood. He's got on timbalands, which are being snatched up and worn by everyone as though they're gonna go outta fashion next week, and baggy ass jeans that could house his entire extended family, as well as his twice removed great grandmother and his Doberman called Shep. With this, he's got a white t-shirt, about a million sizes too big coz no one buys clothes that fit these days, under a red Dirty Denim jersey. It actually suits him, coz it's not so thug-like that he looks like a try-hard-homie, but it still keeps him in style and recognisable as someone who has links to those kind of people, y'know what I'm sayin'? The way he's not gone overboard with bandannas and heavy ass platinum, the whole nine, it just suits him. Somewhere between chicano and thug and white boy. I don't mind it. And Shaun seems to have some major bond with this guy, so he must be pretty cool. Shaun's pretty good at picking friends, from what I can tell. Boof, Ram, Daniel and Gimp, they're like....I don't know. They're like all these different flavors that just bounce right off each other but still meld together somehow. They fit together like a puzzle, but they're still so individual and different that it makes you wonder what at all they have in common. Boof is kinda dopey funny, y'know? He looks kinda dopey. Kinda like a mean ass boxer who took too many hits to the head and isn't quite all there. Ram, he's this major flirt with no fucking shame to speak of. He's not afraid to say what he thinks, y'know? Daniel, he's a bit quieter than the other two, but that works, because if he wasn't, it would just be too much to handle. He's always got this funny ass comment on everything. Doesn't say anything he doesn't have to, but fuck, when he opens his mouth, you just know you're about to piss yourself laughing. And Gimp, god, I wish I could send her home to Elias. She's so sweet and witty and friendly and accepting. Shaun has to work tonight, as much as I don't want him to (and I don't think he's too fond of the idea either) so, he said after we seen this guy Angel, he would drop me off with Gimp and she'd stick the night out with me in his spot where we slept last night. "Who's this?" Angel says, looking at me, then grinning at Shaun, "You goin' straight on me or some shit?". Shaun winks at him, then smiles reassuringly at me. "Nah. Dis's Letty. Let, dis's Angel" Shaun jabs a thumb back towards his friend, then glances over at the two guys Angel had been sitting with in the darkened pool parlor, prior to us arriving, "An' dat's Skarto and Argento". I recognise those names. Yeah....Yeah. Yeah. They were that guy's horses in 'Gladiator'. The ones on his armour, right? The ones that little kid asked him about. Ah, who cares either way? No one keeps their damn name around here, do they? Shaun and Daniel are the only ones with proper names in this place, unless some fucked up parents gave their kids some fucked up names. Y'know what Gimp's real name is? Graciella Perez. I like that name. It's pretty. I'm not usually into pretty things, but I like Gimp. I like her name. Graciella. It's just got this feel to it. It sounds so soft and feminine and pretty and everything I'm not. But still, I think it suits her. She's alot like me, probably because of the life she's leading, but still, I think the stark contrast between the prettiness of her name and the strong-willed person she actually is, is what really makes the two fit together perfectly. Damn, I'm gettin' all deep and meaningful here. Don't know what's wrong with me. I think I'm just trying to get into this place, y'know? Trying to get the feel for it and get to know it because now, I'm not sure how long I'm gonna be here. I thought at first that I was just gonna get off that bus and go straight to Pedro's. Then, last night, with Shaun, I thought it was just gonna be a matter of hours before I was with my cousin. Now, I'm thinking days. Perhaps weeks. And I want to be able to handle the best I can. "So, wotchoo need then?" Angel drags me from my thoughts again. I like his voice. It's kinda husky, and he's got some kind of accent that I don't recognise. Only accents I can pick up on are Hispanic, and it's certainly not that. I like it though. I've never heard anything even remotely like it. He says some words different, pronounces them not necessarily wrongly, but different to how I would. Puts an emphasis on certain sounds. And here I go again, away with the fairies. What happened to Letty the hard ass? "An address" Shaun answers, then glances across at me before looking back to Angel and continuing, "Of Letty's cousin. You handle that?". Angel gives him a lopsided smile and pushes his shoulder. "Boy, have I ever letchoo down? Course I can handle that! Gimme a name, I'll let you know how many fucking seconds it takes 'em to take a shit. You know I can handle that!" Angel says, then changes stance and pulls a pen from his pocket, "Who's this cousin, then?". He's looking at me, so I suppose he wants me to answer. "Um, Pedro. Ramirez" I answer, not knowing what else he wants. "Ramirez. That R-A-M-I-R-E-Z?" Angel asks, writing it on his hand. I nod, and he smiles, putting the pen back in his pocket. He winks at me, then looks across to Shaun. "He's as good as found." |