As I walked in to the back room, my conscience hit me with a hard double take. I had one devil on my shoulder saying “hell yeah Ed! Nothing wrong with a little brown sugar!” But then had 15 angels on my other shoulder saying: “Don’t be a dumbass Ed, you are not a Sancho and you know your old man will kick your ass and tell your wife if you do something stupid.“ When angel number six pointed out the fact that these were very good people and that I owe my life to them, I knew no matter what, I was going to do the right thing.
Come on people! What kind of animal do think I am! Of course I wouldn’t bang Jesus’ wife!
I walked back in the back room and there Mrs. Calderon was holding two things. In her right hand was the Shank that I snuck out of La MESA and in the left hand was the Case Stockman knife that my dad gave me in prison. I was relieved that things didn’t go ”south”, and admittedly slightly a little embarrassed that my ego let my mind go where it went.
Mrs. Calderon had a disappointed look on her face as she asked me what she would like me to do with the items. I reached over and took the pocket knife, and told her she could throw away the shank. I tried to explain but really didn’t have an explanation. Had I not gotten out that day, I would have already rubbed shit and body fluids all over that shank and stabbed it into Felix gut. over and over again.
She quietly said: “I hope you no bad guys”
and walked past me. For some reason that made me feel bad. Was I a “bad guy” now?
I always thought of myself as a good guy but deep down every other thought that came to my mind was how I needed to kill Felix. I walked back in to the family room where my dad was playing with the Little kids.
I told my dad we had to go. He agreed. He also whispered to me that We needed to sneak some money in before Jesus got back. My Dad knew that was the only way to pay Jesus. He knew Jesus wouldn't accept the money.
My dad ran out to his truck and to his surprise, there, still stashed in the seat of his truck was the 22k be brought to bail me out.
He grabbed all of it. Walked back in the house and placed all 22k on the table.
Mrs Calderon walked in and was startled by the amount of money sitting there.
My Dad looked at her and said:Give this to your husband and tell him thank you for saving the life of my son.
Mrs. Calderon started to cry and say “no we no take. No.” My Dad, as a master of sensitivity, Looked at Mrs Calderon and said: Quit being a baby lady, go buy yourself a damn minivan and a bunch of burritos.”
My Dad smiled,looked at me and said ”let’s get the hell out of here Ed!”
I looked over at the woman and smiled and said thank you.
We left the house quickly opened the gate to the Calderon yard and Jumped in my Dad’s truck. He pulled out of the yard and stopped. For about 30 seconds he waited patiently, looked over at me and said: “aren’t you going to shut that damn gate? What the hell kind of farm boy are you.” I smiled, started to open the door, and he stopped me: “ Ed. By the way, you owe me twenty two thousand dollars.” I laughed and said “I’ll write you a check”. Jumped out of the truck and shut the gate and we were off again.
As we drove down the street my Dad said:”let’s get some gas and get the hell out of here. We can be back in San Diego in three hours, we can get a hotel for the night and head home.
I went quiet, looked up at him and said: “No. I’m not leaving Tijuana until I kill someone.”
My Dad went quiet and said: “You don’t want to kill someone.”
I replied:”Yes. I want to, and I have to”
He looked me in the eyes and in a serious tone said: “When you kill someone the ghosts never go away. Ever. I can’t close my eyes and not see the faces of the Vietnamese people that I’ve killed. Don’t do it Ed.
I looked at my Dad and tried to tell him about JD and Felix and once again, I lost my shit. Unfortunately, AI’s were not a part of me running a cycle in the joint.
I looked at my Dad again and said:”Dad, I love you. Thank you for getting me out. I have to do something and I don’t want you to be Involved. Go home and tell my wife that I am Ok and that I will be home soon.”
I reached over the the side on my Dads seat. Grabbed his .357 and messed around with it until we stopped at a stop sign.
I looked at my Dad, told him thanks, and opened the creaky door of my Dad’s shitty farm truck, and took off running west down the street for a couple hundred yards and ducked in to a narrow alley.
I’m not leaving this place until Felix is dead.

All my love, No homo

Ed