Urban Exodus
By: Saemi Yi
Everyone stood watching the ground. Everyone but David Muņoz. He stood watching his hands. They weren't shaking like he thought they would have been. They appeared calm and steady. His hands were always steady, even on the day Bobby died.
He continued to stare at them for the next few minutes, almost as if he could still see the crimson that had once stained them, but the red was no longer there. The blood had been washed down the rusty drain in the putrid flow of filth and sweat. After a while, he couldn't take it any longer. He shoved both hands into his pants pockets to rid them from his sight.
Standing around the casket were dozens of others huddled under a few, black umbrellas. Everyone underneath was soaked by the solution of foul smelling rain that had been mutated by smog and the endless flow of tears. Not only was the sky a most unusual shade of gray, but the grass too appeared dry, brittle and the color of slate, as if the life had been sucked out only to leave empty, lifeless remains.
Never daring to lift his head, David raised only his dark, sullen eyes and watched those around him. Everyone was draped in black from head to toe. Heads were bowed down and eyes were full of such concentration that it almost seemed like they were participating in some ritual to bring the deceased back to life. He saw his Aunt Maribel clutching her rosary beads, praying silently to them and felt an immediate rush of pain deep inside of him. The metal claws of guilt were bearing deeper and deeper into his heavy heart. The procession was generally silent, with the exception of a few broken sobs rising from the crowd huddled around the little grave and the continuing patter of the relentless rain. Soon enough, the sobbing grew louder as two men walked through the crowd to the casket. It was time.
He was only 11 years old when the he was taken to his final resting place, but this only made David realize more than ever, that the death-plagued streets made no exceptions for age. After surveying the crowd once more, David's eyes stumbled upon the epitaph that would forever mark where he lay.
He shut his eyes after reading it and looked down again. By now the casket had been lowered into the grave and a line of family and friends began to form. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and followed behind with a rose in hand. One by one, each person said their last good-byes and dropped roses into the grave. Some blew kisses, others wept, and a select few, like Aunt Maribel howled in agony for the loss. Then they said good-bye to David and his father, Guillermo, before taking their leave. David stood off to the side and waited until everyone had retreated to the parking lot before approaching the grave. Falling to his knees in the oozing mud, he couldn't help but stare at the cross that was carved into the headstone. The frigid mud and rainwater penetrated his skin, but he didn't mind it. He was used to much worse.
Slowly, he crawled towards the head stone and ran a finger along the name written upon it. Roberto Muņoz. As the rain continued dripping down his face and off the tip of his nose, he shut his eyes again and thought to himself, all the while clutching both hands into tight fists.
"Bobby... It was my fault. I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me," he began to whisper. Suddenly he realized that the rain was no longer spilling down his face and that a firm hand had placed itself on his shoulder. Guillermo stood over his son with an umbrella in his hand and gestured that it was time to leave. Placing his rose on top of the headstone, David stood up and took one last look before walking away.
By dark, the streets were transformed. On most days the streets and alleys were covered with dust and dirt so thick that it was impossible to get a breath of air without taking some of it in as well. Normally, the days were uncomfortably arid and the only method of finding comfort from it all was to endure it until nightfall. It was a regular urban desert, but it was dark now. It was at this time they would all come out.
The rain had made the air unbearably humid and a rancid smelling steam emanated from every sewer cap and drain. The street was bathed in an eerie orange glow produced by the decrepit street lamps scattered sporadically through the neighborhood. His hands were in his pockets, but they were still steady. He was waiting for the Scorpions. One by one, each member crawled out from the darkness and met him in the deserted alley, but Carlo had not come yet. David had to wait for him. As he waited, he let his mind drift back to that day when everything changed.
Everything that happened that day now remained all too vivid a memory for David. He remembered running into the alley with Carlo and 3 other Scorpions after hearing someone screaming. The screaming was coming from Bobby.
Dust and grime covered every inch of the god-forsaken place and garbage had been thrown in an obvious struggle. At the end of the ally were four members of the 34th Street Gang, the new rivals of the Scorpions. They had Bobby pinned down and were standing over him. One member had a pocketknife pulled out on him.
"Get the fuck offa him!" David growled.
The members of the 34th Street Gang slowly turned around with menacing smiles on their rough, sun beaten faces. The one with the knife seemed to be smiling the most, as if mocking the Scorpions with his dark and beady eyes. He was wearing contacts that gave him the intimidating appearance of snake eyes to compensate for their lack in size. A scar that rose from his nose to his left brow matched his corn-rowed hair and added to the ferocity of his over-all snarling visage. He stood up, dusted off his baggy pants and put the knife away in his pocket. He might have been skinnier than Carlo was but he was also about a foot taller.
"Ahh, if it ain't the Scorpions. We'd been lookin' for youz, but we found this lil' guy first. Said one of youz was his brotha."
"Man, who the fuck be dis pendejo?" Carlo snarled.
"You Carlo? The one them fools call 'Papa Grande'? Haha, good. I been wantin' to waste you and ya lame-ass gang. Folks on the street call me 'Dios.' So, I guess that makes me ya god, 'hombre,' " he said scornfully.
"Shut the fuck up!" one Scorpion yelled. He pulled out his gun and edged towards Dios.
"Julian! Stop!" David yelled, keeping a vigilant eye over Bobby. Both of his eyes were swollen and his entire face seemed to be made of nothing but bruises and cuts on his once clean face. Blood was spilling freely and his eyes were closed, but Bobby was still conscience.
"So what you want with some kid, man?" he barked. "What some 11 year-old kid do to you?"
The smile on Dios' face disappeared and gave way to a face much more grotesque, like that of a gargoyle. He began breathing furiously and heavily, like some bellicose pit bull about to be unleashed.
"Last week one of yall motha fuckas shot one of my boys: my cousin," Dios forced out through clenched teeth. "He's in the ground now man, and because you took one of mine, I take one of ya'll!"
At that point, someone lost control and lunged at Dios with a knife. David tried to stop him but it was too late. Dios' right hand man whipped out his gun and pumped out three shots. All three hit Bobby.
"NO!" David roared. He tumbled over broken crates, cutting his hand, and rushed to Bobby's side, but he was already gone by the time the first bullet shot through his body. In that one moment, the entire world started moving in slow motion. David couldn't hear the Scorpions yelling for him to get out of the alley. He didn't even hear the police sirens coming from up the road. All he could hear was the turbulent beating of his own heart and the "click" the trigger made when he turned around and shot Dios in the back.
Suddenly David was back in the world again. Just about everyone had arrived, even Carlo. They all walked up to David and patted him on the back, attempting to comfort him by promising they'd exterminate the 34th Street Gang. He couldn't look at their faces. He just kept staring at the ground, knowing that what he needed to say could mean the end.
"Dave, man." Carlo grunted. "Amigo, lo siento, but we got this shit all planned out, man. You got the steady hand. You got that Dios pendejo already, but we'z gonna get the rest of them fuckers. Don't worry, hombre. They all be gone by the end of da week."
He knew it. He knew what was coming. Carlo was going to send out the Scorpions to hunt out the 34th Street Gang. He just didn't know how he was going to do it. Maybe he was going to ambush them on the streets or set fire to their hangout. A drive-by seemed too risky to attempt right now.
"Check it out, man. Dis is what we'z gonna do. They got that funeral goin' on Wednesday for that motha fucka, Dios. His gang is all gonna be there, man. He was da leader."
"Yo, man. That doesn't mean they're all gonna be there just cuz he was the fuckin' leader," David finally spat out.
"Dude, I be da leader of the Scorpions, and I know all of youz woulda come to my funeral if that shit happened to me," he replied with a conspiring smile on his face. "While alla dat be goin' on, we send some of our boys to the front, and da rest to da back. They isn't gonna know what the hell is goin' on until they'z all dead and it's too damn late."
"No. No, man. You can't do that..."
"Since fuckin' when? Don't worry, man, we isn't gonna waste all of them fools up in that church, just the ones in the gang. Like I said, you already got Dios so if you don't want to come, that's cool, man. We can do it without you." The tone in Carlo's voice became increasingly agitated.
"No, man. You don't get it. You can't do that shit anymore."
"What the fuck you talkin' about, boy? Since when the hell did you get so fuckin' righteous? Don't give me that kinda shit, like you'z so great and ya don't do anything wrong. You'z one of us too, bro."
"Not anymore."
"What the fuck did you say?"
"Carlo, man," he said before taking a big breath. "I want out."
"What?"
"You know what."
"Shit, man. Is this all because of little Roberto? I told you man, we'z gonna get our revenge!" he began to snarl.
"Bobby. It's not Roberto. Bobby."
"Whatever man! Like it fuckin' matters."
"No, but dude! You want revenge? So do they! You kill them and they come hunt down your ass. You can't fuckin'get the whole fuckin' gang! Somebody is always gonna step up and want revenge, man. And it's not gonna stop."
"We're gonna make it stop! I told you, man. We'z gonna get them. Every fuckin' one of those god-damn shits, man! And when they'z gone only the Scorpions are left. Then the streets belong to us!"
"Damn it, Carlo! You ain't listening! Even if you get ridda the 34th Street Gang, how ya gonna stop another one from movin' in? The streets are never gonna belong to the Scorpions. The Scorpions are always gonna belong to the streets. We're trapped here, man. Every fuckin' one of us."
"So what happens if we let you out? Huh? You think youz can make it on your own? Hell no! You know why? If you don't got people like us to back ya up, youz just askin' for trouble. Youz just askin' to get killed. People like us can't get out of the city, man. And out here, it's kill, or be killed. So whatcha gonna do?"
"People like us?" David questioned.
"Shit, man! Don't act stupid!" Julian cussed. "We'z them 'ghetto-ass Mexicanos' who don't know nothin' but the streets. People out there don't like people like us. What the fuck is some high school drop-out like you suppose to do if he gets out there?"
"I'll go back to school or something, man. Maybe join the army or the navy or something else. I dunno, but I'm leaving and I'm gonna make something of myself, and waiting to get killed out here ain't gonna help me!"
"Roberto wouldn't want you to leave him behind, would he?" another Scorpion blurted out.
"Shut up! Just shut up! It's Bobby! And you didn't fuckin' know him! None of you did! Not even you, Carlo! He didn't want to be here in this hell-hole either! You know what he wanted? He wanted to grow up and fly them planes in the air force, man. A pilot! He wasn't someone 'like us.' He was gonna go out there and do it. But it's too fuckin' late now. It's too fuckin' late and it's because of us!"
"How's it because of us?" Carlo exploded. "I sure as hell know that I wasn't the fucka who shot up ya kid brotha, man."
David could feel the heat of the blood rushing to his face as he clenched his fists tighter and tighter. He couldn't understand why Carlo and the others weren't getting it. He didn't understand why he didn't get it until it was already too late. Nothing they had done in the past ever made him rethink his lifestyle or any of his choices. Petty theft and battery were no big deal, and none of them regretted the time they had beat up a kid for his money when it turned out he had none. However, it was Bobby that changed everything for David. Bobby was smart and he looked up to Dave. David thought of his little brother as a type of hero, just as Bobby had thought of him, but it took the loss of someone that close to him, to open up his eyes for the first time.
"One of us shot of them, and they came to get one of us. Get it? They didn't care that Bobby was only 11 and they didn't give a damn that he wasn't even in the gang. They killed him because he was my brother!" David shouted angrily.
"Yeah, and you killed one those bastards because they killed your brother! Don't you get it, man? You need your amigos more than eva right now. You need us to back you up."
"I don't care. It doesn't matter anymore. I just want out!"
"Well you ain't gettin' out, hombre! Once ya in, ya in forever!" Carlo snapped angrily.
"What?"
"You know what!" he mockingly replied.
"Don't play games with me, Carlo." David grabbed his collar and slammed him against the brick wall. "I-want-out." He whispered in a raspy voice.
Immediately the rest of the Scorpions pulled their guns out and pointed them at David. Julian pressed the tip of the gun on David's head and threatened him.
"Take your hands offa Papa Grande, man. We'z don't want to hurt you, but I guess youz wants to hurt us, so if I gotta pull back that trigger, man, I will."
David slowly loosed his grip on Carlo's jacket and backed away. His eyes felt like they were burning with such intensity that he could have shot a laser through the wall.
"See, Dave?" Carlo laughed. "I told youz that you'd need a group like us to protect ya."
"Don't do it, Dave," another Scorpion warned.
"If ya want out that bad, I'll let you out, boy, but my way." Carlo chuckled.
"Fine," he readily agreed.
"Bro, ya makin' a huge mistake," Julian cautioned. "If you make it out alive, ya gonna have more enemies now than friends, and we're not gonna be there to save ya ass."
"I saved your ass half the time. Fine, Carlo. I'll do it, but watch. I'll get out. Alive."
And with that, he walked off. He knew what the terms for being "de-initiated" were. He was going to have to fight 4 of the gangs' best fighters, with the exception of Carlo. Carlo never fought in the de-initiation. Not only that, but he was going to have to fight them all at the same time. David had participated in Carlo's de-initiation once before against a former gang member. The boy made it out alive, but had to endure intense physical rehabilitation after he woke up from the coma. As he continued down the road with the broken street lamp, he wondered in the darkness who Carlo would be putting him up against. David himself was one of the Scorpions' best fighters, but now he was the one trying to get out. He decided right away that Julian and a womanizer they called "Don Juan" would be two of his opponents. Though both of them were strong, they had their disadvantages. David knew them well from fighting along side them on the streets so often. Julian's size made him a bit too slow at times, and Juan was a bit clumsier on his feet. He decided that these would have to be taken into consideration if he was going to outlast all 4 of them for 4 minutes.
By the next night, it had been raining again. The sidewalks, walls, streets and everything else were wet and slippery, like they were covered in some disgusting slime. This was going to provide another obstacle in the way of David's freedom. He walked into the alley and saw that he was alone, or so he thought. Once again, the Scorpions crept out of the darkness and circled around him like a pack of hungry wolves. He could see the breath misting out from their open mouths and their eyes, no longer friendly, but full of hate, contempt, and the urge to kill. Carlo stepped out into the center and met David head on.
"I'm givin' youz one last chance, perro. Youz don't know whatcha doin."
"Yes I do."
"Fine then. Let's get on with this shit, yo. Dave, youz gonna be fightin' Julian, Don Juan, Santiago and me."
"You? Since when the hell you fight in the de-initiation?"
"Since my best friend decided he would rather be my enemy. One more thing... No weapons."
"I knew that," David broke in.
"That's for you, man. Not us."
"Ah hell no! How you expect me to fight the 4 of you when you can use all of that shit and I can't?"
"Ya said ya wanted out and ya said it would be my way. Dis be my way."
"Fine, let's go!"
Almost immediately, the 5 of them rushed in at each other. David ducked low and tripped Juan so that he crashed into the others. Given only a split second of time, he surveyed the type of weapons they had on them. Julian and Santiago both had brass knuckles while Juan had an iron chain. Carlo on the other hand, had a pocketknife. The 4 Scorpions quickly picked themselves up and did their best to circle around him but David squirmed through them a little too quickly. Julian came out swinging at him but David was able to duck, jab him in the stomach and then give him a right hook. Then Juan came around and started whipping the chain. The weight of it proved to be most difficult to handle though he did manage to hit David a few times. He was knocked down at one point but scrambled back up to his feet. This time Julian grabbed both David's arms from behind and let Santiago swing away at him with both fists.
David could taste the blood spilling from his nose but he didn't want to give up. Julian still had a hold of his arms so he flung his legs up and kicked Santiago down in the face. In the mean time, Carlo was having more problems than expected with trying to move in and out without slicing the others. Finally he dove in and slashed, clipping David in the arm. He grasped it and yelled out in pain but continued fighting. While fighting off Julian again, Juan tripped him again with the chain. Julian and Santiago both pinned him down and held him until Carlo was standing above him. He crouched down and twirled the knife between his fingers.
"It didn't have to come to this, hombre. Remember, this is your own fault!" Carlo hissed again.
Almost like a second wind, David felt the adrenaline pumping through him, and with the knife bearing down on him, he was able to roll and pull Julian into the way of the blade. It pierced his thigh. This provided another distraction to free him. He managed to kick Carlo and squirm out of the chain while the others tried to pull Julian out of the way.
"One and a half left, man! Hurry it up!" another Scorpion yelled.
"One and a half!" David thought to himself. There were only one and a half minutes left until he was free.
"Forget this shit!" another Scorpion shouted. He rushed in behind David and knocked him down to the ground. Then the others ran in as well and pinned him down. One by one they crouched above him and threw fists upon him mercilessly. Suddenly, it seemed that all the "rules" of the de-initiation were dissolved. It was now an all out gang-beating. Having no more strength in him, David couldn't fight off the twenty or so gang bangers hovering over him. Never before had he experienced that much physical pain. He had always been one behind the fist.
"Aight! 4 minutes! It's done," someone else had informed them.
And with that, they all picked themselves up and turned around to look at him. He was truly a pitiful sight. He was bruised all over with blood gushing from his mouth, his nose and innumerable cuts. The swelling and the pain were so excruciating that he couldn't even open his eyes.
"Adios, mi amigo," Carlos muttered.
As he turned around to leave, he spat on David's body and urged the others to do the same. Once they had all participated, they turned and left him for dead. In deed, anyone who had passed by would have assumed the same. There did not appear to be any way that he could have survived such a violent beating, but he did. He knew he was still alive. He could feel his heart beating and he could smell the stench coming from the sewer caps. It wasn't a pleasant smell, but David welcomed it. He lay there for about half an hour, trying to regain enough strength to pick himself up. Though opening his eyes seemed like too much of a struggle, he did that too. He gradually regained his composure and limped out of the dark alley, into the orange glow of the streets. At one point he fell over but grappled onto the broken street lamp for support and sat there, trying to catch his breath. Then David saw a pair of shoes walk up in front of him.
His initial reaction was that of fear, but then he saw a hand reach out for him. Slowly, he raised his quivering hands and took hold. Whoever it was helped him stand up.
"David," the voice called out.
"Yeah," he replied.
He raised his swollen eyes and expected to see Guillermo standing there, but instead came upon a face he did not recognize. His hands began shaking more violently as he read the tattoo across the man's hands. "34th Street."
"Vaya con Dios," the shadowy man snarled.
David immediately shut his eyes and steadied his hands, right before the man shot him in the chest. He fell backwards onto the sidewalk and saw the pair of shoes walk over his body and into the darkness. At first, the gunshot wound felt like a huge explosion of excruciating pain, but gradually, David couldn't feel it any longer. He couldn't feel the cold air and damp concrete freezing his skin and he couldn't feel whether his hands were steady or not. He eventually couldn't even smell the steam coming from the sewer caps. Soon enough, it began to grow darker and darker to his eyes as he lay there, watching the sky. There were never any stars to be seen in the city, and this night was no exception, but had anyone been by his side before he finally passed on, David would have told them he swore he could make out a plane flying over him.
1990-2002
Beloved son and brother
May he now be safe in the loving hands of thy Savior
