I saw him at El Güero Canelo, a taco stand near school, that we all called “The Foolish Blonde” in English. He was filling his cup with Coke near the outdoor picnic benches while I was reaching for some Tapatío salsa to splash on my burrito.
“Hey,” he mumbled, his tan hair waving down around his eyes and over his shoulders. He was wearing a Green Day tee from their last tour, “21st Century Breakdown.” It had a hole near his left armpit, and a slight odor from the day’s heat oozed out of it like vapor. “You eat here, too?”
I had tried to avoid him, everyone did, ever since he kept claiming that the number 18 was really the number 6 a few days back in Calc. There he was, his chair leaning back against the wall, smiling with teeth as yellow as corn, screaming the number 6 from the top of his lungs while the new teacher, some Mexican or Yaqui prof from the border, tried to speak over him. The MexiYaqui prof had given up after almost straining his voice and had walked out to get the assistant dean.
“Yeah, I do. Best place in town,” I forced the words out, looking if there was anyone else from school sitting on the benches or ordering from the counter. No one, everyone today at The Foolish Blonde was either a rancher coming in for a late afternoon lunch or some real estate guy with no houses to show. There was no way out. I would have to sit with him.
“I’m going to find a space on the bench. Wanna join me?” I asked him. I could feel my eyeliner starting to drip down my brows. A bead of sweat slipped down the back of my neck and soaked itself onto my pink tank top.
“Yeah, whatever,” he shrugged.
We walked passed a mural of Cesar Chavez, Pedro Infante, and Selena. Above them was an angel dressed in charro pants and a large sombrero. The Mexican flag’s red, white, and green swirled in the mural’s background, up so high above the angel that it looked like it would fly away and never come back. The taco stand’s radio speakers blared a song by Juanes, a pop singer from Colombia who had sold out the local arena a week before. Loosely translated I let the lyrics flow through me as I walked with him to the bench nearest the road, hoping that no one I knew would come in for the next 20 minutes:
That my eyes are opened, by the light of your face, I ask this of God
That my mother will not die and that my father remembers me, I ask this of God
We sat. He crunched into his chicken tacos. I bit into my burrito. We chewed in silence, while Juanes kept asking God for favors and wishes to be fulfilled. Once in a while, I would glance at him. He was kind of cute, if he just cut his hair a bit and wore cleaner tees. I had asked about him a few months back when he first came to school to a girl who knew him from high school. She told me that he used to date some Latina chick who told her that one night he took some meth and started flipping out, and that a few days later, she had left him. Bad news, she said. Best not to chase him.
He kept eating his tacos, cheese stuck to the stubble on his chin, bits of tortilla clinging to his fingers. Bad news. Story of my life. Every guy I dated was bad news, from my the first time I kissed the neighborhood bully behind the stands in middle school to now, when Roberto just plain left me to go to New Mexico, find himself and dedicate himself to his industrial art. That was a week ago, and here I was, stuck in some shitstorm community college, living with my mom again, hustling to get a decent job that could pay for my classes and my car so that I can actually find some purpose in my goddamn life.
“Do you believe in freedom of thought?” his question startled. For a second I paused. “La Puerta Negra” by Los Tigres del Norte had began to play. Freakin’ ranchera music always reminded me of Roberto and the nights we would spend together drunk on tequila and pot.
“Freedom of thought?” I looked at him. “Sure. Are you saying we are free to think about anything we want to think about?”
“Yeah,” he said. “The freedom to think and imagine whatever the hell you want without anyone telling you what to do or say or think or breathe or sing or whatever.”
I laughed a bit. “Sure. I mean, who can’t stop us from doing what we want to do?”
“Exactly,” he picked up his Coke and starting gesturing at me with it, the straw shaking at me. “This is why this country sucks. No one is allowed to have freedom of thought.”
“Ok,” I said, popping the last piece of the burrito into my mouth. I smiled at him. Crazy bastard, and when he got riled up his hair flopped up, down, and around like a mop.
“I mean, we’re stuck because we are not allowed to think!” he said, banging his hand against the wooden bench. “Look at this place. People just sitting around, eating, not thinking, not speaking, just stuck.”
He calmed down and finished his Coke. The afternoon sun was descending onto the taco stand, its rays bouncing off of Selena and reflecting towards him. For a second, I thought he was would vaporise, but around him the light shone just like the angel in the charro pants.
“Wanna get high?” I asked. “Just bought a bag last night. We can listen to Green Day. Chill. Catch some Netflix. Talk.”
He nodded. We both got up from the bench, emptied our trays, and walked out of “The Foolish Blonde.” I wrote my address on his hand and we each went to our cars.
“See you there,” I said.
“Yeah, cool,” he said.
When I saw his mugshot this past Monday on the Tucson news, I was still weeping from the text I had received two days before. I still hadn’t answered it. I had just hurled my phone against the walls of my mom’s apartment and screamed as it shattered into pieces. Bad news. Always bad news.
JL did it. Killed little girl and shot lady. WTF. U knew him? Yes?
Franky Benítez 
Damn dude, I saw the tweet about Tucson and i couldn’t figure how it related and then BAM! Nice job.
Thanks, Jason. Really weighed on me that event this week. Had to break from Frank B to get this down. Thanks!
Wickedly relevant, Julio… Gracefully written and presented. BTW, I loved the Alison Anders feel to this. Instantly thought of ‘Gas, Food, Lodging’ …
Thanks, bro. Awesome of you to comment. I was enjoying the research of Tucson taco stands.
Wow, what an amazing story, Julio. I love how you create the characters and the scene around them. I feel the heat, hear the music. The ending was unexpected and jarring. Excellent, excellent, excellent. Chills.
Thanks, Rachel. Coming from you that means a lot.
Incredibly vivid imagery here, Julio. Excellent job. Thanks for sharing.
On a side note: I love Juanes. I have all of his albums and saw him in concert in LA. “A Dios Le Pido” is a great song.
That song rocks. It was playing during my drafting of piece and I thought contrast would work. Thanks!
Wow. Incredibly done. Very powerful piece. Well, well done.
Thanks so much!
wow Julio — that is really amazing — I love that you are following your passion — I am so proud of you big brother:)
I love the fact that your drunkie advice on Thanksgiving got me to start doing this! Love you!
Great stuff and massively topical. Nicely written with a hard hitting puchline. Glad I dropped by for this, up to the usualy excellent standard.
Trevor
Thanks so much, Trevor. I respect you a lot as a person and writer, so this makes my day.
Powerful, brother. First and foremost for the connection to the Arizona tragedy. But too, I admire how you took one of my favorite Juanes songs and turned it into a musical accompaniment for a written piece. Very well done! Thank you for putting this together and sharing it!
The Juanes song was playing when I wrote this and I was fascinated by the lyrics in the song in this context. Gracias, pana!
Powerful and impactful, yet graceful as a big cat stalking prey. When someone does what Loughner did, it’s hard to think of them as a person, with a life, yet you do just that … Excellent story.
Janet, thanks so much for that comment. It is exactly what intrigued me about all the media coverage of the monster that is being portrayed. Still think he is a pyscho but it was so interesting to explore.
Well crafted piece, Julio. One of your best–and, needless to say, very timely. Your breakout is coming.
Thank you so much. Here’s hoping!
Ouch.
I was just in a conversation last night about killers, the kind who walk into a room and gun down everyone in sight. Human contact, connectedness and interaction … none of it matter to some people. They’re psychopaths, and don’t operate by normal rules of rationality.
Well crafted story, with a strong ring of truth in the perspective you used.
Tony, that was the intent. I really appreciate the comments.
First off, as usual, hungry after reading you. Hitting the taco stand for lunch.
This is just so good, man. So real, so alive…vitality. I love the way you weave in the music and the food.
Ha!!! thanks, brother.
Interesting character and twist. Knows what she does not or should not do, but still goes after a guy that is not good for her. At first I was wondering why she asked the dude to sit with her as nothing at that point she said about him was positive, then it all came out. She was recently dumped, makes bad choices and does not think highly of herself. The POV was right on, developing a good sense of the scene and each charater.
Thanks so much! It was an emotional yet fun piece to write. First time I wrote from a woman’s perspective.
Damn! I physically shuddered with the earlier descriptions. It sounded exactly like some of the creepy assholes I dated in hs and college. Complete with neuroses and unfortunate smells.
The descriptions were so absorbing. Every time you write, I can feel the heat and taste the air and the food. The ending was chilling. Well crafted my friend.
First time I wrote from a woman’s perspective. HS and College must have sucked for you. Ha!
There’s such a richness to the descriptions in this. I could see, hear, TASTE and feel everything that was going on.
Really good, standing-up-and-walking-around characters. Excellently captured.
Good work, Julio.
Muy bien hecho. (probably not idiomatic, but it’s been a long time…) 😀
Kevin, muy bien hecho works well and is correct! Thanks!
Turning a mass murderer into somebody Monica thinks she dated is accidentally funny. I wanted to tear apart his claims (after all, that’s lethargy of thought at worst, not absence of freedom of thought – people simply weren’t exercising thought as he wanted, which isn’t freedom).
Stay away from dangerous people, Julio…
Ha! The scary thing is that Jared Lee was quoted as saying that “freedom of thought” thing. Still can’t figure it out.
Well done sir, very real… almost too real. You have a gift for creating stories that drama in the everyday.
Thanks, Al! Will be catching up on my Flashes later tonight!
Very good story, Jullo. I still have trouble trying to imagine what the hell went through this kids mind. You did very well. Feel sorry for the girl who narrated, she needs to find someone normal and decent to hang around with.
Great story!
Thanks, Maria! Really appreciate it.
Wow. There’s just such a lushness in your writing. I can feel that heat and taste that burrito and smell his t-shirt.
You touch that nerve in all of us that says, “What was he thinking?” And the mc’s voice is excellent.
Great story, Julio.
You rock, Gracie (which is also my daughter’s name)
Very well crafted, Julio – loved the very real details of the food and the music. I love Juanes and “a dios le pido” came out while we were living in Mexico – one of our theme songs. My hubs loves the tigres. I was wondering where the story was going but you wrapped it up very nicely in the end. I can definitely see if a story like this gets stuck in your head you can’t rest until you write it.
That is what happened to me. Franky B took a break because this freaking image was in my head for days! Thank you so much!
Wow. Your piece gives real humanity to the guy. I like that we see the entire scene from the woman’s point of view. This isn’t a story about the guy trying to justify himself. It’s an encounter that will stick with the lead character for the rest of her life. Great work!
Thanks so much, Michael!
Very good description. You handle the sensory details very well. You really put the reader in the scene. The ending was powerful too, and unexpected. Good job.
Thanks so much, John!!!!