The
Mulateños advanced faster than their adversaries retreated and soon breached
the point of engagement. When there was absolutely no more space left to go,
Lilo suddenly stepped forward and swung his weapon upwards at a man standing in
front of him. The metal bar caught the intended target solidly across his
forearms and made him drop his weapon. The man recoiled without a sound and
looked down at his arms that now drooped down at an unnatural angle. A young
man behind him reached around whacked Lilo on his arm with a long metal stake
before Lilo could react. Lilo staggered sideways but held on to his weapon. The
fat Mulateño backing up Lilo stepped up and challenged Lilo's attacker, who
backed away. The Mulateño pursued him a couple of steps with his hammer raised
in the air but was confronted by another man who stepped in and swung a thick
wooden fence post back and forth. The Mulateño dodged the first swing but took
a backswing on his ribs. He winced and dropped his hammer to his knee
momentarily. Seeing the opening, another man rushed in to help finish him off,
but the two attackers were both struck by Lilo´s pry bar that twirled through
the air at them. One man fell back as the heavy iron slammed against his face.
The other man froze in place momentarily as the blunt end of the bar flew into
his chest and fell to the ground. In the meantime, the fat Mulateño had
recovered enough to bring his hammer back up. The man backed off, but not
before Lilo smashed his foot with a big rock he had picked up. The man dropped
his weapon and hobbled away. Not looking where he was going, he got too close
to the other team of Mulateños and was quickly felled. Seeing Lilo unarmed, two
different men went after him.
July 10, 2012
46. Monsters
The two teams of Mulateños set out into the dispersed crowd in diverging directions. The non-Mulateños stepped back as their adversaries approached. They looked at each other and in every direction as if they were searching for someone familiar. Their faces quivered with stress, alternating from expressions of desperation, befuddlement and self-pity. They all seemed to want to say something-- yell at the top of their lungs-- but they stayed silent, as if unsure that they could say anything and were not already dead and among the bodies strewn around them.
The Mulateños looked straight ahead as they advanced. They moved sideways slowly, shuffling, but steadily. Their faces expressed at once determination to survive and cold anger at being so threatened. They had been here before. They and their fathers had been dealt terrible wrongs, and this was just another one. They would persevere or not, but somebody would pay for the trouble. They were monsters emanating from a dark cave coming for whoever it was that had disturbed them, no difference if it was a group of armed men or a single innocent child.
The Mulateños advanced faster than their adversaries retreated and soon breached the point of engagement.
The Mulateños looked straight ahead as they advanced. They moved sideways slowly, shuffling, but steadily. Their faces expressed at once determination to survive and cold anger at being so threatened. They had been here before. They and their fathers had been dealt terrible wrongs, and this was just another one. They would persevere or not, but somebody would pay for the trouble. They were monsters emanating from a dark cave coming for whoever it was that had disturbed them, no difference if it was a group of armed men or a single innocent child.
The Mulateños advanced faster than their adversaries retreated and soon breached the point of engagement.
May 14, 2012
45. Are You Paying Attention, Güey
Daylight had come with Chonito sitting alone in a truck parked in front of a house in the swanky San Francisco neighborhood of Chihuahua City. The truck's windows were half-way lowered. It was his new abode, but he had been lingering in the pickup. He shared it with a group of other men, some older and some younger than him. The curtains were drawn and the automatic door to the large garage was closed, so it could not be known from the outside if the residents were in or out or up or in bed. Chonito fingered the electronic key fob that disarmed the alarm system, which also served to announce to those inside that somebody was coming in. The protocol called for pressing the disarm button at least a few seconds before he came in to not surprise those inside. It was a routine Chonitos had followed many times by now, but he hesitated. A long while passed with Chonito siting motionless in the truck.
In the meantime, a small flock of blackbirds and sparrows lit on his truck and on the single tree, a pine, planted in the otherwise featureless bricked front yard.
In the meantime, a small flock of blackbirds and sparrows lit on his truck and on the single tree, a pine, planted in the otherwise featureless bricked front yard.
April 30, 2012
44. Only the Last Ones Standing Will Leave
Ervey launched himself even as the man on the loudspeaker was still making his announcement.
"Ya! Only the last ones standing will leave here!" the man said.
Ervey was the first man to reach the pile. He quickly snatched up the first object that met Lilo's requirement of a sharp edge. It was a meter and a half-long wrought iron bar, triangular-shaped with one bladed edge. Short pieces of barbed wire were still attached to it, as if the guards had hurriedly cut it out of a fence. Ervey gave it a test swing. The men running behind him jumped back and tried to go around him.
"Ervey, keep them from getting to the pile!" Lilo shouted.
Ervey started swinging hard in all directions and turned toward where he heard Lilo's voice. Lilo made eye contact with him but kept running hard to the pile at a spot perpendicular to where Ervey stood. He reached it at the same time other men did, but instead of bending over to pick up something he kicked dirt into the faces of the men opposite him. Some of the men caught dirt in their eyes and stopped to try and recover, causing a brief pile up. In the split second this gave him, Lilo quickly scanned the pile and picked up a long prybar and immediately began to swing it to clear a wide swath over the pile of objects still on the ground.
In the spaces where Ervey and Lilo were not holding off the crowd, men reached down and picked up what they could and retreated. Some disappeared back into the crowd and others were swarmed by other men who fought them for their weapon.
"Ya! Only the last ones standing will leave here!" the man said.
Ervey was the first man to reach the pile. He quickly snatched up the first object that met Lilo's requirement of a sharp edge. It was a meter and a half-long wrought iron bar, triangular-shaped with one bladed edge. Short pieces of barbed wire were still attached to it, as if the guards had hurriedly cut it out of a fence. Ervey gave it a test swing. The men running behind him jumped back and tried to go around him.
"Ervey, keep them from getting to the pile!" Lilo shouted.
Ervey started swinging hard in all directions and turned toward where he heard Lilo's voice. Lilo made eye contact with him but kept running hard to the pile at a spot perpendicular to where Ervey stood. He reached it at the same time other men did, but instead of bending over to pick up something he kicked dirt into the faces of the men opposite him. Some of the men caught dirt in their eyes and stopped to try and recover, causing a brief pile up. In the split second this gave him, Lilo quickly scanned the pile and picked up a long prybar and immediately began to swing it to clear a wide swath over the pile of objects still on the ground.
In the spaces where Ervey and Lilo were not holding off the crowd, men reached down and picked up what they could and retreated. Some disappeared back into the crowd and others were swarmed by other men who fought them for their weapon.
April 28, 2012
43. Everybody Look at the Pile in the Center
A long silence followed the announcement from the loudspeaker. The men in the corral looked at each other. A low, soft murmur arose among them as they tried first to get confirmation from their neighbors as to what has just been announced then to collectively grasp their plight.
“That we’re all wrong?”
“Sí. And to prepare the people.”
“Wrong with vehicle papers?”
“That must be it because that’s all they asked about.”
“Everybody was wrong? That can’t be.”
“There must be a wave of vehicle thefts, and they're here to attack it.”
“No, these aren’t police.”
“They’re not the army either. They’re narcos.”
“Then why do they have me here? I’m not involved with any of that.”
“And what’s this about preparing the people? Prepare them for what? What people?”
April 16, 2012
42. You're All Bad
The guards retreated behind the gate as soon as their captives settled down. A long while passed with everybody in the corral standing quietly against its rails. As time passed, one by one, the captives began to slump way to the ground. First they sat on their haunches to see if this was permitted. When nothing happened, they sat down with their backs to the rails.
There was no more interrogating. The men that had sat behind the bench abandoned their posts and disappeared altogether from the loading ramp. Only their guards kept their places in the box of the pickup parked on the ramp. They sat silently, bored, not even talking among themselves.
The men peering in from behind the gate, on the other hand, appeared agitated and quite engaged in conversation with each other. The seemed to rotate often from their perches behind the gate. From where Ervey was standing, the gate looked quite busy with many eyeballs peaking through the slats and a steady hum of muffled talk emanating from behind the gate.
Lilo said nothing. He was one of the first to hunch down but resisted sitting down on the dirt. He kept his back to the gate and the loading ramp. Ervey followed him to his haunches and quickly relaxed against the rails, exhausted.
After a long while, the murmuring behind the gate grew. Lilo looked into Ervey's eyes to catch his attention as he looked intently toward the source of the sound. Ervey noticed this and, before he could react, Lilo raised his eyebrows to ask what he saw. Ervey responded with a shrug.
"See the young man in a yellow cowboy shirt next to the gate?" Lilo whispered almost inaudibly.
"Sí," said Ervey.
Lilo nodded.
"Keep looking at him to see where he's looking," Lilo instructed, "that's where the other Mulateño is.
Ervey locked in on the man with the yellow shirt standing a couple of places right of the gate. A few minutes later, he straightened up and gave a more intense look.
Lilo discreetly waved his hands to indicate to Ervey that he should reveal as little as possible about what he was looking at. Ervey relaxed a bit and sat back against the rails. Eventually he changed his facial expression and looked back at Lilo.
"You make contact?" asked silently with his eyebrows Lilo.
Ervey nodded slightly.
"See where his partner's at?" Lilo whispered.
Ervey nodded a little.
Lilo nodded and stiff-armed the air to indicate that Ervey should wait for further instructions.
Ervey gave Lilo a long, rueful stare. Lilo returned a wordless facial expression of, "who knows?"
The night wore on until it began to turn to dawn. The overhead flood on the ramp never went off, which made it hard to discern the change in the darkness beyond it. The imminence of daybreak was announced only by the subtle change in wind and humidity and the crescendo of bird calls all around the corral. Lilo spoke up when the noise had risen to such a level that it presented a cover for him to talk.
"If something happens, go to them, and back them," he instructed, "they'll do the same for you."
"Really?" Ervey asked.
"Sí. Tell them who you are and any message you want them to deliver if you don't make it. They'll do the same," Lilo said.
"Shit!" said Ervey, "what do think's going to happen?"
"Who knows?" said Lilo, "these narcos don't act like they're from Chihuahua."
"Narcos? Shit!," said Ervey, "from where then?"
"West, south, central? I can't tell. But it's clear they don't care about us," said Lilo.
"Oh, and the Mulateños do care?" asked Ervey facetiously.
"They care about their families and, in this fix, about the next thing to that, which is their distant kin," said Lilo, "don't you?"
Ervey didn't answer. He stared into into the center of the corral behind Lilo.
"Then you have the forth guy?" asked Lilo.
Ervey nodded.
"Which one?" Lilo asked.
"Fat. T-shirt with horses. He occasionally signals his partner," said Ervey.
"So if I don't make it and you do, tell my people through the boss at the garage that the narcos got me and it was quick and that I talked a lot about my grandchildren," said Lilo expressionlessly.
Ervey looked at him, and was about to make his own last request, but he was interrupted by a man speaking through the loud speaker.
"Señores, we have completed our investigation. What we have found is that everybody here is wrong one way or another. You're all bad!" the man said.
The crowd in the corral stood up. Everybody turned their heads in every direction, but nobody said anything.
After a long pause, the man went on again.
"Because of this, we have no option but to let you self-select the ones that will pay for the infractions of the others and which ones will go free!" the man said, "comrades, prepare the people."
There was no more interrogating. The men that had sat behind the bench abandoned their posts and disappeared altogether from the loading ramp. Only their guards kept their places in the box of the pickup parked on the ramp. They sat silently, bored, not even talking among themselves.
The men peering in from behind the gate, on the other hand, appeared agitated and quite engaged in conversation with each other. The seemed to rotate often from their perches behind the gate. From where Ervey was standing, the gate looked quite busy with many eyeballs peaking through the slats and a steady hum of muffled talk emanating from behind the gate.
Lilo said nothing. He was one of the first to hunch down but resisted sitting down on the dirt. He kept his back to the gate and the loading ramp. Ervey followed him to his haunches and quickly relaxed against the rails, exhausted.
After a long while, the murmuring behind the gate grew. Lilo looked into Ervey's eyes to catch his attention as he looked intently toward the source of the sound. Ervey noticed this and, before he could react, Lilo raised his eyebrows to ask what he saw. Ervey responded with a shrug.
"See the young man in a yellow cowboy shirt next to the gate?" Lilo whispered almost inaudibly.
"Sí," said Ervey.
Lilo nodded.
"Keep looking at him to see where he's looking," Lilo instructed, "that's where the other Mulateño is.
Ervey locked in on the man with the yellow shirt standing a couple of places right of the gate. A few minutes later, he straightened up and gave a more intense look.
Lilo discreetly waved his hands to indicate to Ervey that he should reveal as little as possible about what he was looking at. Ervey relaxed a bit and sat back against the rails. Eventually he changed his facial expression and looked back at Lilo.
"You make contact?" asked silently with his eyebrows Lilo.
Ervey nodded slightly.
"See where his partner's at?" Lilo whispered.
Ervey nodded a little.
Lilo nodded and stiff-armed the air to indicate that Ervey should wait for further instructions.
Ervey gave Lilo a long, rueful stare. Lilo returned a wordless facial expression of, "who knows?"
The night wore on until it began to turn to dawn. The overhead flood on the ramp never went off, which made it hard to discern the change in the darkness beyond it. The imminence of daybreak was announced only by the subtle change in wind and humidity and the crescendo of bird calls all around the corral. Lilo spoke up when the noise had risen to such a level that it presented a cover for him to talk.
"If something happens, go to them, and back them," he instructed, "they'll do the same for you."
"Really?" Ervey asked.
"Sí. Tell them who you are and any message you want them to deliver if you don't make it. They'll do the same," Lilo said.
"Shit!" said Ervey, "what do think's going to happen?"
"Who knows?" said Lilo, "these narcos don't act like they're from Chihuahua."
"Narcos? Shit!," said Ervey, "from where then?"
"West, south, central? I can't tell. But it's clear they don't care about us," said Lilo.
"Oh, and the Mulateños do care?" asked Ervey facetiously.
"They care about their families and, in this fix, about the next thing to that, which is their distant kin," said Lilo, "don't you?"
Ervey didn't answer. He stared into into the center of the corral behind Lilo.
"Then you have the forth guy?" asked Lilo.
Ervey nodded.
"Which one?" Lilo asked.
"Fat. T-shirt with horses. He occasionally signals his partner," said Ervey.
"So if I don't make it and you do, tell my people through the boss at the garage that the narcos got me and it was quick and that I talked a lot about my grandchildren," said Lilo expressionlessly.
Ervey looked at him, and was about to make his own last request, but he was interrupted by a man speaking through the loud speaker.
"Señores, we have completed our investigation. What we have found is that everybody here is wrong one way or another. You're all bad!" the man said.
The crowd in the corral stood up. Everybody turned their heads in every direction, but nobody said anything.
After a long pause, the man went on again.
"Because of this, we have no option but to let you self-select the ones that will pay for the infractions of the others and which ones will go free!" the man said, "comrades, prepare the people."
April 12, 2012
41. This One Doesn't Work
The next man up saw Ervey's reaction to the interrogators' notebook and hesitated.
"Didn't you hear? Move!" ordered the two the interrogators at once.
Several of the guards idling on the pickup took notice of the interruption and stood up. They looked at the man and then followed his line of sight and focused on Ervey. The guards did the same.
"What? You with this güey? You too from El Mulato?" one of the interrogators asked, pointing to Ervey.
The man siad nothing and stepped in front of the impromptu bench. He was a tall middle-aged man. Well-groomed. Pressed sport shirt and city pants and shoes. His manner bespoke somebody who was used to being the boss, and he was clearly struggling with accepting a lesser role in life.
"Or you answer our questions or it's bad luck for you," he was admonished.
"Conrado Sanchez, from Chihuahua, headed back to Chihuahua after a trip to Midland, Texas. It's my truck. The papers are in the glove compartment along with the visa I got from the Americans," he said anticipating their questions.
"That's not what you were asked, stupid," one of the guards spoke up, clutching his rifle.
"Sorry. I thought you wanted to know this other information. What was your question again? And how is it that you have us all here. What's your authority? You police or army?" Sanchez said.
"Our authority is that we can sent you to hell. But never mind. We have enough information on you," one of the interrogators said, "escort, here's one that doesn't work. Fix him!"
The entire squad of guards stood up and emptied onto the ground around the Sanchez, who towered a full head above them. The last guard to scramble off the truck, a dark heavyset man with a crewcut showing under his cap, waded through the crowd and grabbed Sanchez by the hair on the back of his head and waved at the men standing behind the gate on the other end of the corral. Sanchez leaded backwards, clearly in pain. The corral gate swung open and a stream of heavily-armed men rushed into the corral, some coming up to Sanchez and others stopping along the way to face down the captives lining the corral. Sanchez emerged from the crowd bent over with two short men in black athletic shoes pulling him by his hair. Sanchez waddled awkwardly across corral grounds trying to keep up with his captors as best he could, but he soon stumbled and fell on his hands and knees. His two minders almost went down with him, but they released their grip at the last instant and stood back. One of the men let fly a full soccer kick to Sanchez' ribs. The impact caused a large thud and knocked Sanchez over on his back. The two men then reached down and grabbed him by the hair again. Sanchez got up from the spongy ground on his hands and knees and gasped for air through clumps of mud that had formed around his mouth and nose. The two men tugged harder at this hair, and Sanchez tried to get up on his feet, but fell down again. This time he went down listlessly and landed on his face without even putting his hand out to break his fall. The two smaller men holding his hair bumped into each other and dropped their rifles to find their balance and keep from hitting the ground themselves. Still holding on to Sanchez' hair, they waited a few seconds to recover and reposition themselves. Meanwhile they picked up their rifles and shook them free of dirt, cursing angrily at Sanchez for the trouble he was causing them. Then they heaved again and raised their prey. Sanchez stood up on his feet unsteadily, and the three started to move forward again. Their pace quickly accelerated, but several paces later, Sanchez stumbled again and fell on his knees. His two captors were slow to react, causing Sanchez to tip over on his face into the ground. He quickly put his arms out to get his face out of the dirt, but the two hands pulling him forward prevented him from steadying himself. Instinctively he tugged at one of his holder's fist with one hand while trying to pivot on the other. The man immediately let go, and Sanchez put both hand down on the ground and haunched. The other man kept his grip on Sanchez, handed his rifle to his partner, and pulled out a square-looking handgun and pressed it on Sanchez face without letting go of his hair. Not a second later, a halo of light flashed around Sanchez' head followed by a loud clapping noise and a splash of dust rising up from the ground a couple of meters away. Sanchez rocked forward and flopped on his hands and knees. The shooter loosed his hold and put his gun back into a holster he wore inside the back of his pants. He then grabbed Sanchez from his collar and belt and stood him up and walked him past the gate out of the corral. His partner followed, holding both rifles and motioning everybody in front of them to clear the way for them. Sanchez kept stepping, back straight and both arms winging listlessly by his sides.
The ordeal took several long minutes to run its course. Everybody, captors as well as captives, stood motionless and in silence watching. When Sanchez was out of sight and the gate closed again, a murmur rose up in the corral. Some of the captives stepped out of line to catch a last glimpse of Sanchez. The guards seemed to finally see the commotion around them and leveled their rifles.
"Silence!" one of them yelled, "get back to the rails!"
Order was quickly restored.
Ervey looked around and quickly saw that Lilo was standing next to him in Sanchez' former spot.
"Listen, güey. Only saying this once," Lilo whispered, pausing to see if anybody was watching them, "we have to work together and with the other Mulateños in the crowd."
"What? Which ones?" said Ervey, surprised.
"Two. One by the gate and another further up the line where I was standing," Lilo whispered even softer, "I'll point them out later when I can. Just pay attention."
"Didn't you hear? Move!" ordered the two the interrogators at once.
Several of the guards idling on the pickup took notice of the interruption and stood up. They looked at the man and then followed his line of sight and focused on Ervey. The guards did the same.
"What? You with this güey? You too from El Mulato?" one of the interrogators asked, pointing to Ervey.
The man siad nothing and stepped in front of the impromptu bench. He was a tall middle-aged man. Well-groomed. Pressed sport shirt and city pants and shoes. His manner bespoke somebody who was used to being the boss, and he was clearly struggling with accepting a lesser role in life.
"Or you answer our questions or it's bad luck for you," he was admonished.
"Conrado Sanchez, from Chihuahua, headed back to Chihuahua after a trip to Midland, Texas. It's my truck. The papers are in the glove compartment along with the visa I got from the Americans," he said anticipating their questions.
"That's not what you were asked, stupid," one of the guards spoke up, clutching his rifle.
"Sorry. I thought you wanted to know this other information. What was your question again? And how is it that you have us all here. What's your authority? You police or army?" Sanchez said.
"Our authority is that we can sent you to hell. But never mind. We have enough information on you," one of the interrogators said, "escort, here's one that doesn't work. Fix him!"
The entire squad of guards stood up and emptied onto the ground around the Sanchez, who towered a full head above them. The last guard to scramble off the truck, a dark heavyset man with a crewcut showing under his cap, waded through the crowd and grabbed Sanchez by the hair on the back of his head and waved at the men standing behind the gate on the other end of the corral. Sanchez leaded backwards, clearly in pain. The corral gate swung open and a stream of heavily-armed men rushed into the corral, some coming up to Sanchez and others stopping along the way to face down the captives lining the corral. Sanchez emerged from the crowd bent over with two short men in black athletic shoes pulling him by his hair. Sanchez waddled awkwardly across corral grounds trying to keep up with his captors as best he could, but he soon stumbled and fell on his hands and knees. His two minders almost went down with him, but they released their grip at the last instant and stood back. One of the men let fly a full soccer kick to Sanchez' ribs. The impact caused a large thud and knocked Sanchez over on his back. The two men then reached down and grabbed him by the hair again. Sanchez got up from the spongy ground on his hands and knees and gasped for air through clumps of mud that had formed around his mouth and nose. The two men tugged harder at this hair, and Sanchez tried to get up on his feet, but fell down again. This time he went down listlessly and landed on his face without even putting his hand out to break his fall. The two smaller men holding his hair bumped into each other and dropped their rifles to find their balance and keep from hitting the ground themselves. Still holding on to Sanchez' hair, they waited a few seconds to recover and reposition themselves. Meanwhile they picked up their rifles and shook them free of dirt, cursing angrily at Sanchez for the trouble he was causing them. Then they heaved again and raised their prey. Sanchez stood up on his feet unsteadily, and the three started to move forward again. Their pace quickly accelerated, but several paces later, Sanchez stumbled again and fell on his knees. His two captors were slow to react, causing Sanchez to tip over on his face into the ground. He quickly put his arms out to get his face out of the dirt, but the two hands pulling him forward prevented him from steadying himself. Instinctively he tugged at one of his holder's fist with one hand while trying to pivot on the other. The man immediately let go, and Sanchez put both hand down on the ground and haunched. The other man kept his grip on Sanchez, handed his rifle to his partner, and pulled out a square-looking handgun and pressed it on Sanchez face without letting go of his hair. Not a second later, a halo of light flashed around Sanchez' head followed by a loud clapping noise and a splash of dust rising up from the ground a couple of meters away. Sanchez rocked forward and flopped on his hands and knees. The shooter loosed his hold and put his gun back into a holster he wore inside the back of his pants. He then grabbed Sanchez from his collar and belt and stood him up and walked him past the gate out of the corral. His partner followed, holding both rifles and motioning everybody in front of them to clear the way for them. Sanchez kept stepping, back straight and both arms winging listlessly by his sides.
The ordeal took several long minutes to run its course. Everybody, captors as well as captives, stood motionless and in silence watching. When Sanchez was out of sight and the gate closed again, a murmur rose up in the corral. Some of the captives stepped out of line to catch a last glimpse of Sanchez. The guards seemed to finally see the commotion around them and leveled their rifles.
"Silence!" one of them yelled, "get back to the rails!"
Order was quickly restored.
Ervey looked around and quickly saw that Lilo was standing next to him in Sanchez' former spot.
"Listen, güey. Only saying this once," Lilo whispered, pausing to see if anybody was watching them, "we have to work together and with the other Mulateños in the crowd."
"What? Which ones?" said Ervey, surprised.
"Two. One by the gate and another further up the line where I was standing," Lilo whispered even softer, "I'll point them out later when I can. Just pay attention."
April 10, 2012
40. I'm From El Mulato
Finally standing directly in front of the interrogators, Ervey got the full picture of the situation he was in. The bench on which the interrogators were noting the answers to their questions was simply a wooden slat yanked from the corral and balanced on an old metal drum barrel. The interrogators sat on the tail gate of a pickup parked on the loading ramp extending from the corral. Behind them was a squad of armed men who either leaned against the cab of the pickup or sat on the sides of the box. They all looked quite bored, including the two interrogators. None of them even looked to get a good look of Ervey when it was his turn to go before them.
"Next," was all that was said.
"Next," was all that was said.
April 3, 2012
39. No Cellphone Service Here?
Slow at first, the pace of the line soon picked up. The questions were said in a monotonous pattern resembling a rosary at a Mexican wake. They were asked almost at the same time the person being questioned got out an answer.
"Name? Origin? Destination? Why were you traveling? The vehicle yours?" the interrogators droned.
The cadence varied only at the end when the respondent tried to explain why he did not have on his person any proof of ownership or written permission by the owner to be driving the vehicle.
"I keep it at home so I won't lose it...."
"It's in the glove compartment...."
"It's my brother's truck. You can call him on my cell...."
"Name? Origin? Destination? Why were you traveling? The vehicle yours?" the interrogators droned.
The cadence varied only at the end when the respondent tried to explain why he did not have on his person any proof of ownership or written permission by the owner to be driving the vehicle.
"I keep it at home so I won't lose it...."
"It's in the glove compartment...."
"It's my brother's truck. You can call him on my cell...."
March 29, 2012
38. Unloaded in the Loading Pen
It was a livestock loading pen, the kind that ranchers build in the middle of their pastures to funnel their livestock onto a trailer through a loading ramp. Generally oblong and about two meters high, the structure was made of old railroad ties and wrapped by many rungs of heavy gauge wire with the bottom half wrapped with sheets of rusted corrugated tin such that no animal, big or small, could get under or through the bottom rungs. From where Evey stood, the loading ramp was not visible, but it seemed to be occupied by the men who had hauled him there, as it was busy with straw hats and movement. Ervey stood just in front of the entrance gate, which had not been closed but was filled by the back end of a pickup with the tale gate down. A small crowd of men stood in the box holding rifles.
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