The White Boy’s Yucatan 1.2: (Coba)

For the Reader: The area around Coba is not as built up as described, but it’s getting there, and it will soon be just as described, (if it isn’t already), as is the case with places like Xel Ha, Chizan Itza and ESP TULUM! The writer has been to all three places as a small boy and more recently (like 3 summers ago or so). Now Tulum is a tragedy. The biggest place to eat outside the park is called “Mayan Burger”. The events depicted here are otherwise quiet true.

Not more than ten years before, the village surrounding the pre-Columbian ruins of Coba, in the south of the Yucatan Peninsula, was only accessible by a 4x4, and only during certain parts of the year. Locals did most of the “tourist” trade. You caught a “tourist guide” in Playa Del Carmen at one of the local hotels and rode out to the park, if the roads and god’s allowed. The locals provided guides, jeeps, housing, and food, and some had special guides for surfing, or any other pleasurable sport or social activity you might be into. Adam vaguely remembered his dad had once bought a large bag of sweet smelling tobacco from a guide, and smoked it with him as he drove the jeep like he was invincible. When the surf board flew off the top of the jeep and the fin was damaged, the tour guide gave him one of his once they got to the huts. But now you couldn’t smoke in the tour busses that left from the resorts, and you couldn’t expect Club Med to give you anything.

Since the area had been re-named “The Mayan Yucatan” things had changed considerably. In the old days for instance (more-less than a decade ago) many of the people’s meals had come out of two large spring fed lakes, (lakes Coba and Macanxoc) that bordered the park. Now there was a sign that said “no fishing” and the huts surrounding the lake were gone. In their place was now a large resort complete with 5 star dining and a disco. International corporations, mostly from Europe and North America, along with a Mexican government devoted to “Market Fundamentals” had turned the place into a nice little strip mall in the jungle. The area around the entrance to the (now gated) park was full of large shops, and the road had been improved to allow for tour busses, bustling with kids who weighed almost as much as the bus. However, once you got into the park proper, it was relatively un-touched, and towards the back of the park, it was pretty empty because not that many tourists were willing to walk the distance to get to the bigger ruins. But out-side the park was all show: A Mayan themed shopping experience.

Most of the people who lived in the area tended to be darker that Mexican’s of the north, shorter and stocker, with wide shoulders. Many of them still spoke a form of Mayan/Spanish that was distinct from “proper Spanish”. Most of the signs were in Spanish, then English, then that dialect, which also looked to be spelled in a very distinct way.

About a half mile from the gate, the pavement stopped and you had to walk back, or catch an expensive four wheel ride. About a quarter mile from the gate one single little grass roofed hut was selling cold drinks and fruit. The place was very popular because most of the tourists (especially those brave or broke enough to walk) were not accustomed to the heat and humidity, and not smart enough to bring water. Adam and his family were no exception. While they stood in line for the wildly overpriced refreshments, Adam noticed a little boy who looked like he might have been from the area, walk from behind the refreshment hut and disappear a little way into the jungle that hugged the dirt road. After the tourists left the stand and walked a little way up, they were confronted with a dollar bill lying on the ground. Most if not all who saw it would stop to pick it up, but then SURPRISE! It jumped back a bit. Some would chase it like the jack-asses they were, almost into the jungle, until they noticed the fishing line tied to it. When Adam saw the spectacle, he stopped and pointed it out to his dad, who sighed and asked “what do you think that’s all about?”
Adam told him how he had seen the little Mayan boy disappear into the jungle.

Adam’s dad frowned and remarked “I guess he’s got us figured out.”
Adam started to walk on and saw that his dad was standing very still, looking serious, and raising his binoculars.

“Adam, look over there, look at that it’s a Green Jay, I think the people here call it a Seyeis Eb, or something. Very cool! Jay’s are some of the smartest birds, and they are cooperative breeders too, but also very territorial. Go figure.”

Adam looked through his binoculars and was impressed. The bird had an inquisitive look, and was making a lot of noise. It was iridescent in the light, as if it was lit from inside. Bright green and blue and black. Perfectly made.

“He might have a nest around, or one of his group’s has one around. They help each other out you know, they alert each other to danger and the males and females work very closely to raise the young. It is not uncommon for one female to feed another’s chicks.”

“So if they’re territorial why don’t the fight with each other, I thought they cooperate? Or I guess they do both?”

“Well, they do both, They are also known to watch other jays burry food, and come back later to dig it up. I don’t think we know exactly how they determine whether a fellow Jay is in the extended family group, or whether you are competition. They click up at any rate, and aren’t they pretty to look at!”

As they walked past the chirping jay Adam couldn’t stop thinking about the little boy. His dad’s words echoed in his ear; “he has us figured out.” As he passed the gringo bait he thought he herd laughter coming from the jungle. “He had us figured out”.

At the gates, the tourists had to line up to get tickets. In doing so they were given a sort of lecture by a employee of the park. Do not throw trash on the ground, pack out what you pack in, camping permits to the right, no narcotics, don’t feed the monkeys, poachers will be prosecuted severely, the bikes only go two miles back to the Nohoch Mul pyramid and if you fall while climbing it we are not responsible, etc..,

Adam asked his dad “Are their many monkeys, I don't remember that?”

“Lot’s. That was along time ago you were here last, you probably just don't remember.”

“Do you think we’ll see any?”

Jerald smiled “Probably, they will see you at any rate, they let each other know about our presence too, like the Jay’s. You’ll see. But they can be very friendly, especially if they think they’ll get a hand out.”

It wasn’t long before Adam heard a series of gut piercing screams floating down from the canopy. Spider Monkeys scuffled above him, dropping leaves, making a noise that you have to hear to understand; A high pitched scream, like a screeching near whistle and grunting and a lot of commotion above your head. A noise like “The humans are here. Well we are here too! Here I am, here we are, and you can’t get us and don’t fuck with us!”

A little way down the path Adam was stopped dead in his tracks by small black spider monkey that was sitting in the middle of the path about twenty feet ahead. A tiny ball of fur, big black expressive eyes, dark brown fuzzy fur with a white belly. The two just regarded each other. Like when you look into the eyes a smart good dog and you know there is some sort of inter-species connection, like you guys are thinking about each other, maybe each thinking “look, it’s another creature, what a trip!” The tiny thing just sat very still at first, and looked. A fur ball with big black eyes. Adam moved to get an energy bar, and the little monkey started jumping sort of, sitting and then jumping a little. Then he thought better of it and just sat down on the path. Then the monkey jumped a little, and sat down again. The two creatures just stared at each other. Just sitting, looking. It had very long arms and long legs and a puffy round body and a long tail. After about 10 seconds of stillness and staring another larger monkey cautiously came onto the path, slow, scooped up the little one and ran up into a tree. The little one clung to the other’s back with it feet and hands and tail.

Adam walked on to Nohoch Mul, the stepped pyramid. From the top of it, by the little cool stone room with slick walls where millions or billions of humans had run their hands among the stone, putting the oil of themselves on it and rubbing it smooth, where their was an alter and a little indention on the floor, where humans had once cut each other’s guts out and ate or burned them for the pleasure of the thirsty god’s, looking toward the park, the world was so green and green and green stretching, a thick robe of green, so much wildness and life and potential, but to the other side, toward the city, grey and smoke and shops, where the future lies buried in the still beating guts of the present and has yet to be cut out.

The White Boy’s Yucatan 1.1: (Coba)

The White Boy’s Yucatan 1.1: (Coba)

For the Reader: The area around Coba is not as built up as described, but it’s getting there, and it will soon be just as described, (if it isn’t already), as is the case with places like Xel Ha, Chizan Itza and ESP TULUM! The writer has been to all three places as a small boy and more recently (like 3 summers ago or so). Now Tulum is a tragedy. The biggest place to eat outside the park is called “Mayan Burger”. The events depicted here are otherwise quiet true.

Not more than ten years before, the village surrounding the pre-Columbian ruins of Coba, in the south of the Yucatan Peninsula, was only accessible by a 4x4, and only during certain parts of the year. Locals did most of the “tourist” trade. You caught a “tourist guide” in Playa Del Carmen at one of the local hotels and rode south, if the roads provided. The locals provided guides, jeeps, housing, and food, and some had special guides for surfing. Adam vaguely remembered his dad had once bought a large bag of sweet smelling tobacco from a guide, and smoked it with him as he drove the jeep like he was invincible. When the surf board flew off the top of the jeep and the fin was damaged, the tour guide gave him one of his once they got to the huts. But now you couldn’t smoke in the tour busses that left from the resorts, and you couldn’t expect Club Med to give you anything.

Since the area had been re-named “The Mayan Yucatan” things had changed considerably. In the old days for instance (less than a decade ago) many of the people’s meals had come out of two large spring fed lakes, (lakes Coba and Macanxoc) that bordered the park. Now there was a sign that said “no fishing” and the huts surrounding the lake were gone. In their place was now a large resort complete with 5 star dining and a disco. International corporations, mostly from Europe and North America, along with a Mexican government devoted to “Market Fundamentals” had turned the place into a nice little strip mall in the jungle. The area around the entrance to the (now gated) park was full of large shops, and the road had been improved to allow for tour busses, bustling with kids who weighed almost as much as the bus. Once you got into the park proper, it was relatively un-touched, and towards the back of the park, it was pretty empty because not that many tourists were willing to walk the distance to get to the bigger ruins. But out-side the park was all show: A Mayan themed shopping experience.

Many of the people who lived in the area tended to be darker that Mexican’s of the north, shorter and stocker, with wide shoulders. Many of them still spoke a form of Mayan/Spanish that was distinct from “proper Spanish”. Most of the signs were in Spanish, then English, then that dialect, which also looked to be spelled in a very distinct way.

About a half mile from the gate, the pavement stopped and you had to walk back, or catch an expensive four wheel ride. About a quarter mile from the gate one single little hut was selling cold drinks and fruit. The place was very popular because most of the tourists ( especially those brave or broke enough to walk) were not accustomed to the heat and humidity, and not smart enough to bring water. Adam and his family were no exception. While they stood in line for the wildly overpriced refreshments, Adam noticed a little boy who looked like he might have been from the area, walk from behind the refreshment hut and disappear a little way into the jungle that hugged the dirt road. After the tourists left the stand and walked a little way up, they were confronted with a dollar bill laying on the ground. Most if not all who saw it would stop to pick it up, but the SURPRISE! It jumped back a bit. Some would chase it like the jack asses they were, almost into the jungle until they noticed the fishing line tied to it. When Adam saw the spectacle, he stopped and pointed it out to his dad, who sighed and said and asked Adam what that was about. Adam told him how he had seen the little Mayan boy disappear into the jungle.

Adam’s dad frowned and remarked “I guess he’s got us figured out,”. Adam started to walk on and saw that his dad was standing very still, looking serious, and raising his binoculars.

“Adam, look over there, look at that it’s a Green Jay, I think the people here call it a Seyeis Eb, or something. Very cool! Jay’s are some of the smartest birds, and they are cooperative breeders too, but also very territorial .”

Adam looked through his binoculars and was impressed. The bird had an inquisitive look, and was making a lot of noise. It was iridescent in the light, as if it was lit from inside. Bright green and blue and black. Perfectly made.

“He might have a nest around, or one of his group’s has one around. They help each other out you know, they alert each other to danger and the males and females work very closely to raise young. It is not uncommon for one female to feed another’s chicks.”

So if their territorial why don’t the fight with each other, I thought they cooperate?

Well, they do both, They are also known to watch other jays burry food, and come back later to dig it up. I don’t we know exactly how they determine whether a fellow Jay is in the extended family group, or weather you are competition, at any rate, aren’t they pretty to look at!”

As they walked past the chirping jay Adam couldn’t stop thinking about the little boy. He had us figured out.

At the gates, the tourists had to line up to get tickets. In doing so they were given a sort of lecture by a employee of the park. Do not throw trash on the ground, pack out what you pack in, camping permits to the right, no narcotics, don’t feed the monkeys, the bikes only go two miles back, to Nohoch Mul pyramid, If you fall while climbing it we are not responsible, etc..,

Adam asked his dad “Are their many monkeys, I don't remeber that”

“Lot’s. That was along time ago you were here last, you probably just don't remember.”

“Do you think we’ll see any?”

Jerald smiled “They will see you at any rate, they let each other know about are presence to, like the Jay’s. You’ll see. But they can be very friendly, especially if they think they’ll get a had out.”

It wasn’t long before Adam heard a series of high pitched screams floating down from the canopy. Spider Monkeys scuffled above him, dropping leaves, making a noise that you have to hear to understand. A high pitched scream, like a screeching scream and a lot of commotion above your head. A noise like “The humans are here. Well we are here too! Here I am, here we are, you can’t get us don’t fuck with us!”

A little way down the path Adam stopped dead in his tracks by small black spider monkey. A tiney ball of fur, big black expressive eyes. Like when you look into the eyes a smart good dog and you know there is some sort of inter-species connection, like you guys are regarding each other, maybe each thinking “look, its another creature!” The tiny thing just sat very still, and looked. Adam moved to get an energy bar, and the little monkey started jumping sort of, sitting and then jumping. Then he thought better of it and just sat down on the path. Then the monkey jumped a little, and sat down again. The two creatures stared at each other. Just sitting, looking. It had very long arms and long legs. Cautiously another larger monkey came onto the path, scooped up the little one and ran into a tree.

From the top of Nohoch Mul, by the little cold stone room where humans cut each other’s guts out, looking toward the park, the world was so green and green and green stretching, a thick robe of good green, so much wildness and life. To the other side, toward the city, grey and smoke.

The future is unwritten and lies dormant in the heart of the present.

king hank

King Hank 1.1.

There was something about Hank that made you want to get away from him and take a shower. It was hard to say exactly what it was. Perhaps it was his voice, reduced to a croak by millions of cigarettes. Or maybe his smell, which was just slightly rotten, like a fish sandwich that had just went over. His skin was like leather that had been left out in the sun to shrivel and rot. It was blotched and spotty, with deep cracks covered over with a film of dried blood, like he had pealed, and burnt, and pealed, and burnt again, ad infinitum. The inside of his arms were covered in large welts with small holes in the middle. He was a small man with thin limbs, but he had an enormously bloated gut. It was hard as a watermelon and did not jiggle when he walked. It looked like the stomach of a pregnant woman. His liver and kidneys were swollen. He didn’t know that he was filling with piss and bile. As a result his eyes wore a yellow film.

King Hank was truck driver three quarters of the year in the U.S., and a resident of the Corona Cantina’s back room for the other three months.

Mick and Adam had just got into Juarez and they were both very thirsty and ready for some action. After crossing the bridge, they walked into the first cantina they could find, which was right off the market square. It was deserted except for Hank, the bartender, and a bar-back. Adam went up to the bar and sat down, ordered two drinks, and started talking to Hank. Everyone shook hands and was very friendly, as Adam suspected based on his other trips to Mexico. After some preliminaries Adam got down to business, Hank looked like just the man he needed to talk to.

“So, Hank, they say it’s a war zone down here, that you can get your nuts cut off trying to score a little blow, whata’ya think?”

The Bar tender, who was wearing a rosary and had religious tattoos all over his arms and neck was watching the conversation very closely.

Hank took a shot of tequila, “Hell no, you just have to be careful, the black market is big-time money for these folks, just deal with people you know, like my friend Jesus here. You can get anything you want down here for penny’s on the dollar. You just have to know the right people, and I’m the right people. You stick with me friend, we’ll have us a good ol’time.”

The bartender winked at hank and told the bar-back something in Spanish. The bar back asked if we needed anything.

Adam said, “That’s just what we were discussing.”

The bar back, who spoke a little English, said he would see about that, and was there anything else and Adam and Mick placed orders for Valium, snuff, and cigarettes. After prices and quantities were agreed upon, the bar-back left.

Jesus said “You come at a bad time, the Mexico marines are around. The cops, ok, but the federalies, no good, you know? No one selling here, everyone have to go about 30 miles away.”

“So is it super dangerous?”

Jesus brought another round of beers and sucked down the rest of his, “For runners maybe, for bosses, maybe, for you, no, you just gotta know somebody you trust. This is how we survive. People want fun, we help them. This our other market. You take care of us, we take care of you, everybody’s happy. The American want us to stop our market, but they still come for it.”

The the bar-back came walking in. He threw the cigarettes and valium on the table. Adam and Mick paid and tipped generously. He said that the coke would take a while.

Mike leaned back in his stool. “Hell yea, I like this shit, I think I’m gonna stay for a while”. In American what a hassel everything is, this is as easy as ordering takeout.”

The bar-back jumped at the opportunity. “You need room?”

Mike said, “Yea, how much?”

“200 pesos, two beds, air conditioning.”

Mike smiled big and handed him 300 pesos “Damn that’s cheap, hook it up and keep the change brother” The bar-back ran out.

Just then a small fat man walked in who looked and sounded uncannily like a Mexican version of Joe Peschie. He moved his hands a lot and talked very loudly in a screeching voice. He walked very fast. Adam was starting to get drunk and liked the look and sound of him. He walked right over to Adam like they were old buddies and claped him on the back, standing very close.

“I’m Jorge, I take care of you, what you want, what you doing.”

“Shit, just chilling out, drinking.”

“Yea, you like drink, me too I like drink.”

Adam got the hint and called for another round, but Hank spoke up, “Let me get the next round, this little prick here needs a drink to calm him the fuck down”, but there was no malice in his tone.

Jorge laughed loudly “This mutha fucky, you know this guy, he a fuckey, you know, he wanna sexo my daughters. Oh shit, he real fucky, this my friend though.”

Hank laughed a harsh coughing laugh, and breathed laboriously, “Yea fuck yea I wanna sexo. I went over to his house for Christmas, he’s got 8 daughters, trying to marry off all of them, I said shit, let me take one, I think I can handle some of that young stuff.”

Hank was almost drooling, Jorge sucked down another beer, “Jesus bring me tequila and put it on the mother fucky tab or I stab him.” He looked at Adam and Mick “You my friend, you friend with Hank, you my friend too, I tour guide, I show you everything, I get everything.”

Adam said “shit yea, fuck yea, lets get some coke and ill snort it with you”

Jesus looked at Jorge, “no, no, marines in town, anything else….”

“Well, is there an ATM around, I need to get some money?”

Mick leaned over to Adam “You need to calm down dude, don’t mention that shit again, your too loud, its being taken care of, here, chill out, eat a valium”
.
Adam laughed “Hell no I wanna go up up up and away, you can have the valium, whatever, ok, ill chill, come on Jorge, lets go to the ATM”

“Lets go my friend, you my friend, I take care of you like I take care my own ass, you lickey family.”

Jorge knew everyone on the street. He walked fast, Adam had to almost run to keep up. He was hollering and whistling at people, they smirked, or waved or shook their heads at him. He never stopped talking, he was turning around to talk as Adam struggled to keep up. He had enormous energy for a small fat guy. “I tour guide, I help gringo’s, show them around, but not too many gringo’s these days.”

Adam was almost running “They say it's a killing zone down here, looks pretty calm to me.”

“It ok, you just stick with me my friend, anyone ask you, you say you with me, I take care of you, I know everyone even big bosses, you know someone, its ok. Fighting is between other families, not us, we ok, I know everybody. This neighborhood, it ok, no fighting for it. Some barrios they fight for, not this one, border guards work for bosses too, they have big guns, so this neighborhood ok. You like to go up, here, 20 pesos.” He showed Adam a small pink pill, Adam knew exactly what it was and snatched it out of his hand and dry swallowed it .

“Fuck yea, college kids need to stay awake and so do I, you got any more of that, shit we don’t need nothing else if you got Addies, we can get a nice buzz on them and drink.”

Jorge grimaced “No, certain things only some sell, not that, that one for me. I don’t have more. Only some people, go through Jesus for that, he works for bosses, he owns two bars you know, bosses lend money and he sell for them. I show you something else. This special place.”

Adam remained silent until they reached the ATM, which was guarded by a man with a machine gun. He made a withdraw and handed Jorge what he thought was 2 dollars but was actually 20. When he realized it, it didn’t matter. He had given more to street people in the US. Easy come, easy go.

Jorge pocket the bill, “You good friend, I take you where I take all good friends, you good man, I can tell, follow me, you no bad person.”

After more twists and turns down the narrow cobble-stoned streets, flanked by waving and scowling people alike, the arrived at “the bodega”. It was a two story building with all the windows and doors open, fans blowing, under what looked to be a thatched roof, painted bright colors, paintings of tropical scenes on the wall and a large bird of paradise squawking perched on a bamboo “T” with a little chain on his leg. Adam thought it was perfect creature, chained for our amusement. In all the corners, large hibiscus red, pink and bright yellow. A sweet floral smell. A large aquarium with more creatures snatched from the warm sea.

Jorge went to fix himself a drink at a fully stocked bar. “You good man, I only bring good men here, you know, ones that know how to act, no crazy’s, you know, some people crazy, too ruff, I know you ok, you no ruff man, and you generous.”

All around, young ladies were laying in various states of repose, stretched out over lush looking couches and chairs, some looked sleepy or maybe high, all looked bored, eight lovely women, scantily dressed in what might have been beach wear had a beach been close, white cotton dresses, bikini tops, floral patterned wraps, smoking, drinking, looking, stretching, yawning. All smiled up at Adam, and he stood frozen, trying to smile, to look casual. He was getting the idea and needed a drink badly. “oh shit” he thought “what a trip”. Adam half expected to see the Paul Gogan stroll down the stairs with a hard on.
Jorge came over with rum and coke, “Relax friend, sit, drink, relax, you get to know my friends”

Adam smiled at the girls, shook hands, “Jorge has a lot of friends” they just smiled coyly and nodded, on his left, one lady sat up, started to put on some sweet smelling lotion. Jorge walked over to her, said something in Spanish, she looked over at Adam, motioned, held out the bottle of lotion.

“You OK, friend, its calm here, come over here, she want help putting lotion on back, you good guy, I take care of you, see, you no a gay huh? Come help my friend”

Adam automatically began to move to sit beside her on the couch. An older man came in, with some white in his hair, dressed in a white cotton button up shirt and nicely creased jeans. Two of the women got up and went over to him, kissing him on both sides of the cheek. He said something to Jorge looking at Adam. Jorge replied. One of the man’s companions had some sort of wrap around dress on, which she took off, exposing bright small bikini bottoms, folded it, laid on a couch, walked, no, moved, over to the bar, fixed three drinks. She moved very slowly and it smelled like flowers in the room. She walked back to the man with the drinks on a tray, handed him something which he slipped in his pocket, looked pleased, told Jorge something in Spanish looking at Adam. Jorge replied laughing. Adam thought he heard something about potatoes and baby’s and gringos, they both laughed. Adam felt like a child that did not get the jokes grown-ups were telling. The man gave the other girl a bill. She smiled and kissed him on the lips. The man winked at Adam, and walked out.

Jorge pressed “put on the lotion, she like you, don’t be rude.”
.
Adam began putting on the lotion without thinking. Sliding hands over smooth dark skin. Black hair pulled up over the neck, curls. Gliding gliding. The smell of coconut. She reached around and unclasped her top. Adam rubbed the lotion on her shoulders arms, neck, traced the ridge of her ear, she turned around, “on front too” she said. Weightless. That feeling in the lower stomach, heat spreading slowly down, stirring. Jorge grinning. All the lady’s watching. Our hearts are birds too, he thought. Birds of paradise, perfectly made, but chained. Our hearts have been chained but need to fly. Lotion on her shoulders, both hands moving toward her breasts. The warm stirring, spreading terseness. Adam stood up quickly, looked at Jorge, “Grab a beer and lets go back to the bar.”

Jorge looked a little displeased, shocked. “You ok? You relax, relax, it ok, everything ok, she like you.”

The lady looked a little put out, told something to Jorge, made a huffing sound and started putting her top back on.

Jorge said with a slight frown, “You want to go see boys?”

“No, no, uh… this is great, just fine, I just uh, I need to keep an eye on Mike, you know, he’s still back there, you know, we’ll come back.”


The grin returned, “It’s ok my friend, the beers on me, we go now, maybe come back, you want Viagra, I get it for you.”

Adam felt something like shame and something like hotness in his belly. “Ok, yea, maybe so, lets just come back later.”

Jorge led the way back, talking to everyone on the street, some laughing, some grimacing, some yelling obscenities.

At the bar now there was music. Everyone was dancing and the delivery was made. Adam asked Jesus where Hank was and the bar-back came and took them out back. There was a small court yard, and a stair case. Upstairs an open air room, windows knocked out, like a covered landing. In the back of the landing more rooms.

Hank was hunkered over a large line of coke. When he looked up he reached in his pocket and threw a small back of coke on the table. A large quarter gram, two or three fat lines. Just enough. Good. See that the bar-back is tipped he thought. 10 dollars for a fat quarter gram, amazing. He went to go get Mike. Standing outside on the landing Adam looked down to watch Mike and Jorge arguing. Jorge had tried to rip him off. Jorge was explaining to Mike that they were the best of friends, family even and that he would never do such a thing.
Mick came up in a huff, “That little prick tried to rip me off.”

Adam was putting drops of water down his nose, the burning was exquisite “He’s ok , he’s just trying to make a buck, feed his family, just like everyone here. Everyone’s hustling. Did you see how many prostitutes were on the street, that's some sad shit.”

Mick was looking at Hank with a look of disgust. “No he’s not ok, he’s a street pimp, you hear him talking shit and you believe him, he’s a slime bag, sound to me like he’s a common hustler like any other, I’m tellin you he tried to get me for 20 dollars.”

Hank broke in, “You got to tip these guys well or they just try and steal it from you, you make too much noise, you might get more than a couple of valium. They all work for the same folks. What took you so long Adam? I was thinkin maybe they had you strug up with your little nuts cut out, and I was gonna have to do your QG. No sense letting good yayo go to waste.”

Adam was pouring a line of coke. “We went by the bodega.”

Hank was looking cautiously at Mick “He take you to the bodega huh, you meet Consuela, she’s so sexy, you outta get you some of that, she gets firsts shot at white guys, always a pecking order you know, that’s good stuff, not that affectionate you know, but good, prime good grade A, when I’m on the road, you know, driving my truck, all I get is lot lizards, you know, like sticking your dick in a glass of hot water. The girls here, they are young you know, not so stretched out. Down here, you got a few hundred green-backs to throw around, shit, you a king, not like in the states. In the states a couple hundred don’t get much attention, but down here you are a VIP. You just have to tip everybody, and I mean everybody. That’s why it’s best to make sure you only deal with a few guys. This is how they live you know, fine by me. Suits me just fine.”

Mick looked like he was getting ready to kill someone. He was opening and closing his fists. Adam was feeling worried “Naw man, that’s some sad shit, those young women, you know, that’s fucked up, and anyway fuck that dude, he coulda’ asked me for the money.”

Adam agreed “I can’t believe there’s that much prostitution on the street, some of those girls looked so young, that fucked up, and all us gringo down here to bear up the white man’s burden I recon.”

Hank was holding a lighter under a spoon that held a mixture of coke and water. “Shit, girls that hot, I mean at the bodega, can always find other work, it’s just way better money to lie on your back a few days a week. It’s not any differnt in any major European city. I been all around, and Europe is just about the same, this is their red light district you know, but only after dark. In Europe it’s more segregated, that's all. In the bodega the girls have to pay the house some, but you know who runs the house, and I’ll tell you, the house takes care of its own, they run this whole neighborhood, those girls could get jobs as waitresses or wiping tables, or get married to one of the gang guys, which they will end up doing anyhow, but shit, id do it, wouldn’t you, a couple hundred a night, shit, I might let you stick it to me for a hundred a night.”

Adam was doing a line. “I bet those girls are beat up and everything elese.”

“Let me tell you something, you hit one of those girls, and you are in big trouble. The windows are open in the rooms upstairs too. There is a balcony, but they windows have screens on them so you can’t go outside. Dudes sit out their and listen to them fuck, just to make sure the job is done and there is no ruff stuff. Down here no one is a “free agent” everyone works at the pleasure of the house, and the house protects it’s own. I figure, it usta be like that in America, before organized crime was busted up.”

Adam thought of Hank working away at some poor young woman in some hot smelly room, heaving and huffing, his sweat and slobber dripping on her, red faced, obscene blotted belly, grunting, her turning her face away, what was she thinking about? Birds in the blue sky? Her small frame limp and docile under his great pounding weight, his stench, his bulbous cock like a fat and dirty slug, did he wear a condom, did he cum inside her, what must she be thinking about, her child, her family, the money…the money…the money, but her heart a bird.”

Mick looked ready to commit murder “you stupid fat piece of shit, what do you think your doing, you can’t free-base that, you dog, go drive your truck into a ravine.” He stomped down passing Jorge as he came up. .

“Adam, Consuela and her friends are here, you my friend, I take care of you, come on down, have fun, dance, we all dance…”

Hank licked his lips. “you better get your friend outa’ here before he gets himself killed. Come back if you ditch him and we can get nice and fucked up. I mean that. I got some business to take care of.”

As Adam and Mick hailed a cab, he thought he heard the sound of geese calling, way up.