Run with Scissors

A different view of the 'drug war' and the border.

The fragrance of roses accompanied the sound of hurried footsteps in the street outside my door. I paid no mind until I knew someone was running through the shop next door. I turned to look out the kitchen window, and saw rifles and uniforms.
Adrenaline jumped into my fingertips and I slid the front door closed to a crack. Loud crashing and demands came from the clubhouse above the service garage, and there were now 6 cop cars out front. Federales.
I wanted to walk out the gate and down the street but that was nofly at this point as the place was swarming with face masks and machine guns. People passing by in the street were getting shook down as well, though they let the two middle aged ladies pass. Soon Tuerco jr. appeared, flanked by officers, and was shoved unceremoniously into a paddy wagon.
There were now two badges in the house, which is behind my apartment, giving the mama the good cop bad cop routine. I'm not joking, I listened for about 4 minutes. Soon another guy came from the front and began checking my windows, a MossbergStreetsweeper in his free hand.
I opened the door the second I knew he would arrive there. It was the element of surprise.
What the f**k? I demanded, in my farmerjohn bibs, and my thick glasses.
He jumped back and stopped just shy of smashing my face with the butt of the shotgun. Tuerco's mom was going ballistic on the two detectives who were demanding she open both the storage unit, and my apartment which they did not yet know had been accessed.
Stand right here. The cop spoke good english, and pointed to the wall just inside the door. I obeyed, and questioned the situation just enough to sound pissed, but conformative.
Where are the drugs? he eyeballed me, poking the barrel through the garbage can, and opening the fridge.
Not here, well, with the exception of a chicharron or two on the floor.
No.... I don't care about that, I want to know where the big bag is.
I told you already. Not here. Wrong house..
I shrugged and acted the tiniest bit challenging.
Let me see your ID. You have an ID?
'Yeah.' I pretended to look around. ..
"S**t.' I acted worthy of one of those little statues... 'Umm.. I think that chick that was here last night took my wallet...'
Right away he explained that if I didn't have it, I was going with him. I knew I was going anyway, so I was just holding out. But he didn't know that, nor did he know what he should have known before showing up, that I was not their objective in this raid.
He helped me look and found my wallet between the Dictionary and TheRoad. He took the DL out and peered at me through his AlabamaStateTrooper shades.
Other cops, including a couple in charge, wandered here and there, obviously not happy about the fact that they had come on the wrong day. Which was also information I had that they didn't. Yet anyway.
He radioed in my name, and town of birth, and I waited.... more nervous than I should be. Something that comes from understanding the full parameters of the HomelandSecurityAct. I was not worried about Mexico, but the US..ffft.
I knew their old tricks way too well.
I got to ride in a patrol car instead of the paddy wagon, and the young cop driving erroneously assumed I didn't understand the lingo and told his partner what they should have done.
Something more along the lines of arriving very early in the morning, instead of at ten. And in these things, he carried on, it is better to set an example. Leave a cadavre, send two or three to ICU. That kind of thing. No good can be served by Mr. Amable.
As I listened I wrote this little article for you readers out there.
They gave me a bunch of threats, did not try to bribe me, did not harm me and let me go in less than an hour.
It was a mile back to the house, via the arroyo. Pinged with adrenalin, I ran all the way.
Laughing and jumping as it were.

Author's Note

I just thought you might like to see better my environment.
So as to not be inclined to think I just lay around in the sun dreaming up lies to post.
PS:
Crowley and Luciddreamer:
Getting heat in the US is WAY more nerve-racking than here,
and,
this has passed a couple of months ago, though it sounds more recent.
That is because I didn't write it until yesterday.
I was given the proper words while observing some soldiers, walking towards the parking lot, on a what is their "Friday'. with their shirts untucked and their bodyarmor exposed, autopistols hanging loose, clipped to their belt...
So young, 'like little boys, after school', I thought.
There were strange forces at work that day, as usually, when the FJE or the Marines show up for a raid, Everyone gets the shit kicked out of them, as GOP.

Reviews

[Desert Dreamer]

This, for me, adds a reason why we must always keep our rights to have a gun. You just never know what the government will do, and if they are the only ones with guns, well, then that 's too bad for us....I am tired of this war on drugs, what is the point anyway? Why not just legalize marijuana and put age limits on it like alcohol, let everyone make their own choice and so much violence will be prevented, especially all the border violence. Why does the government need to control drugs? As long as no one is giving them to children I don't care who does what. Where did the freedom go that I learned about in school?

[Zeek4]

I live in Chula Vista, about eight miles from the busiest border crossing in the world. As a young man, I spent a lot of time in Mexico doing things I probably shouldn't have been doing. A couple of my friends speak fluent Spanish. Something they picked up while attending a Mexican federal prison. Through my owns experiences, I could tell this was not a piece of fiction. I enjoyed reading it very much, and I had a few flashbacks in the process.

[luciddreamer]

Well this is the essense of the Tony I know, have been talking with .... nice to see you again...glad you made it home :)

Now for the story, well I'm afraid not to many people will probably understand the part you are wanting them to. The part that slaps you in the face and screams at you "There are worse things than a drug dealer."....there are idiots in power with guns............we are all screwed....

Peace
Robin

[Crowley]

lol....that authors note cracked me up. Nothing more nerve racking then getting chatted up by the police in Mexico...there is always that air of uncertainty about what could happen. Great story, your life is pretty colorful from what i can tell, the parts you write about anyway. Between the dictionary and The Road...I like...