My decision to immediately kill Felix went over like a turd in a punch bowl with my American friends. Knowing that I was not in the right state of mind, the oldest American inmate, Bruce walked over and tried to talk to me as I was ransacking my Caracas gathering weapons.
“Ed, stop! You have to give this time and think it out!” Bruce plead.
“There’s nothing to think about Bruce. I’m going to kill Felix and then I’m going to kill the guys he hired to do it and I’m going to do it right now.”
I had the razor sharp knife my dad gave me and a shank with a 9 inch blade that I paid a young inmate to make for me. That would be enough. I didn’t care if I spend the rest of my life in that prison. Felix was going to die. The image of the deep gash across JD’s throat wouldn’t go away.
One of the other Americans cut in:”Ed, you have got to think! Don’t do this! Not now! You have to plan it!”
Wrapping the shank in newspaper and sliding it in to my sock I replied: “I’ve already planned it! I’m going to cut off Felix’ head then I’m going to cut his heart out and eat it. THATS THE PLAN! Now step aside before you get cut too.”
I was in shock with zero chances of rational thought and my buddies knew it. There was nothing they could say that would keep me from killing Felix. Almost nothing.
A calm voice from the back said:”Ed, what is the name of your little boy?”
“Don’t worry about it!” I said.
“Do you think your little boy is going to feel bad knowing that he will never get to hug his dad again?”
An image flashed through my mind of my little boy laying in his bed crying and suddenly reality started to push the irrationality thoughts away. The rage gradually slowed as the oxygen started to fill my lungs with calm breathing and for the first time at La Mesa I found myself sobbing like a little kid. Alligator tears and all. La Mesa finally broke me and it broke me good.
I must have looked pretty pathetic because a couple of my American friends started crying with me. One of the Americans that we jokingly called Pastor Pete (due to his overly religious Talk on most days) sat down beside me, he too was crying said: “Ed can I pray for you.”
“Yeah bud, let her rip.” I said.
Without missing a beat, Pastor Pete began his supplication: “Dear Lord, Please take our good friend J.D. and take him straight to heaven. He was a good brother and we are going to miss him. Please give us some peace of mind and some clear thinking so we can think up a way to kill and torture that piece of shit Felix and his buddies who killed JD so that you can send those pricks straight to hell. Amen.”
In unison, every American in La Mesa said: “AMEN!”
It was probably the best prayer I had ever heard, it was almost poetry.
I wiped away my tears walked over to the hard bed on my Carracas and laid down. I was going to work up a good plan but something about losing my shit Made me fall asleep almost instantly.
About two hours later I woke to a guard standing above me tapping my head with his club.
“Senior..Get up. Time to go.”
Not knowing what was happening, I stood up
“Come senor, now!”
The guard started walking and I followed him to the west end of the prison. As I walked, I noticed a man, nicely dressed, with very kind eyes looking at me. The guard led me to that man, that man with the kind eyes, who happened to be standing by the gate with two other guards. Guards who happened to be standing by the gate that inmates go through when they are released.
The man with the kind eyes looked at me and smiled:”Hello Ed. I am Jesus. Come with me. You have been found not guilty and I am going to take you to your Father.”

It didn’t seem real. Was it a dream? I can’t leave now. I have to kill Felix.
I mumbled to Jesus:”I’m not ready to go. I have to take care of a few things.”

The kind look of Jesus, went away quickly as his voice went to a low serious tone: “Ed, you have to come with me right now. My friend, who is a judge changed his mind twice on me and If I don’t get you out of here now, you will never get out.”
Jesus grabbed me by the shoulder and said:”Your Father is waiting, come now!”
Jesus turned and started to walk and I followed him.
Just like that, I walked out of La Mesa with my Case double x knife in one sock, and a shank wrapped in newspaper in the other sock. I followed Jesus to the parking garage on the west end of the prison, got in his car and we drove towards Encino Street. The same street that had a little house. Inside that little house was an old man who was sitting on an old couch with a .357 magnum revolver stuffed into the cushions, waiting for his son... watching Mexican Soap Operas with Jesus’ wife.

To be continued.

All my love, no homo
Ed