We lived in Inglewood and thanks to that damn Sofi Stadium, rent has just been skyrocketing. My family was finding it hard to make ends meet. I tried my best to not let it bother me. My mom told me to stay focused on soccer so that I could get drafted into the MLS to help out the family. I had practice everyday after school so today and every other Friday, I always took the chance to rest as soon as I got home.
I opened the door to my house and caught a whiff of pollo encebollado with rice. My dad would call it poor people’s food, to me it was just food. I saw him sitting on the couch watching the Dodgers. He was a huge Dodger fan and they were in the middle of making a late inning comeback from being down four runs. The bases were loaded and Freddie Freeman was at bat. My dad didn’t look all that excited though, even after Freeman hit a game-tying grand slam. I think he had depression after being laid off a year ago; being unable to provide for your kids must really hurt. I walked into my bedroom to set down my backpack and returned to the dinner table.
Soledad was setting up the table with napkins, forks, a pitcher of water, and cups. At first glance someone might think she actually enjoyed doing it. She was the youngest at 15 and also a girl which meant that our parents restricted her actions. She couldn’t go out at night or alone anywhere. My mom made sure that she knew how to do all the housework, while my older brother and I did our own thing without needing to ask for permission. I took a seat at the table and not soon after, my mom served dinner and my brother Pedro entered the house.
“It smells good! I assume it was you, Soledad?” Pedro laughed.
“Ungrateful shit,” Mom replied, “I make food everyday and you still act spoiled. I gave birth to you, you know?”
Pedro didn’t respond. Talking to Mom was like talking to a wall, regardless of the topic. Pedro and I sat next to each other while Dad and Soledad sat on the other side. My mom sat at the head of the table. We weren’t even able to eat a grain of rice before my mom started talking.
“So, Pedro, where is the money?” Mom asked. “We owe over $10,000, you know? That’s not even counting interest or late fees either.”
“I’m broke right now,” Pedro said, “but, I’m not the only person who should be making money.”
Dad’s head sank low and continued to eat. Mom had been leeching off of Pedro’s paychecks ever since Dad was laid off.
“You’re right,” Mom responded. “Hugo, how’s everything with soccer? Will you be drafted soon?”
I wasn’t even out of high school yet; I was still 17. I needed to be in college to be eligible to be drafted.
“Leave him out of this,” Pedro argued. “Don’t make him lose his enjoyment of the game.”
“Well, we can’t pay the bills on enjoyment, can we, Pedro?” Mom rebutted.
“I’ll get the money!” Pedro raised his voice. He sounded like he might cry. “Let Hugo be!”
For once, my mom actually let someone else have the last word and the rest of us ate dinner in silence. Afterwards, we left the table to go to our resting places, Pedro and I went to our room, Dad went back to the couch to watch the rest of the game, Mom went to her room, and Soledad was left to clean the table and wash the dishes.
“So, how are you going to get that money?” I asked Pedro when we went to our room. He locked the door before answering.
“Don’t tell anyone about this, okay?” Pedro said.
I was confused but I nodded anyway.
“I’m planning to steal it,” he said. “There’s some gas stations and 7-11’s around us. I’m gonna rob them.”
“What are you talking about!” I said, raising my voice.
“Shut up dumbass!” Pedro said, trying to stay quiet. “Don’t worry about it. I’m going by myself.”
“What about the job you have now?” I asked.
“McDonald’s manager isn’t enough to pay for the mortgage. Besides, I won’t get caught so I’ll get the money from my little heist and my real job.”
“You sound stupid.”
“Well, money doesn’t grow on trees and neither does knowledge so I guess I’m stuck being dumb. Seriously though, don’t worry about it. Stick to soccer and get drafted out of college. If things go bad for me…Mom is gonna need some help. It’s our job as men to provide.”
“How are you gonna do it though?”
“I have a Glock 17, just in case, and some sunglasses. I’ll wear some bummy clothes so I don’t stand out too much. Plus, I’ve already scouted out the places where I want to hit to know where the cameras are so I can avoid them.”
“Glock 17?”
After I asked that, Pedro reached under his bed and pulled a small black safe. I would’ve thought it was some heavy-duty lunch box if it didn’t say ‘GLOCK’ on it. He opened it and showed me the magazine filled with bullets. He inserted it through the bottom of the handle and cocked it. I was speechless; he was actually planning to go through with this.
“Okay but,” I questioned, “Where are you even gonna put the money? And uh…your car! What happens if they get the license plate of the car? Then you’re screwed.
“I’ll use my Puma sports bag and I’m gonna remove the plates and put them back on later,” Pedro answered.
The faint smell of sweat from the bag filled my nose. I was worried about what would happen to him, but I couldn’t think of any more questions to make him second guess his decision. His plan was horrible, but I’m sure he knew it too. I remembered how he almost cried at the dinner table; he was desperate. I stopped asking questions about the heist. I layed down on my bed.
“I don’t expect you to change your mind at this point but,” I said, “I would rather be homeless than see you behind bars or dead as a criminal.”
Pedro turned his back towards me and never responded. I tried to calm myself with deep breaths. I was hoping that Pedro could change his mind on his own because he clearly wasn’t listening to me.
Before I knew it, it was nighttime, so I tried going to sleep. I tossed and turned thinking about the worst. I thought that maybe I should tell my parents, just so that they could talk him out of it. Would that be enough to stop him? I wasn’t so sure. Pedro meant so much to me. He had taught me how to drive and ride a bike. We would usually play videogames on Fridays too but this Friday was different. I really hoped it was all just a bad joke, that I could wake up tomorrow and we could laugh about it together. I was caught in the maze of thoughts and emotions in my mind. Eventually, I fell asleep.
The next morning, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Pedro told me. I checked to see if he was in bed, luckily he still was. It was impossible for me to stop thinking about the heist. I tried taking a shower to get my mind off things. It worked for mere moments and once I was out of the shower, Pedro was the first thing on my mind. I got dressed and went out to the living room. There was my dad watching whatever was on TV on Saturday mornings. Soledad was making breakfast and my mom was setting the table. A table for four.
“Where’s Pedro!?” I asked.
“Ugh,” Mom said. “He just stormed out of the house when you were showering. I don’t know where he is but I know he’s not getting any breakfast.”
“Change it to the news!” I yelled at my dad.
He handed me the remote and I changed the channel to the local news. Everything was normal. They talked about the weather, traffic, and some other corny news stories before going to an ad break.
“What has gotten into you?” Mom asked.
“Why do you care about the news so much?” Soledad questioned. “Breakfast is ready.”
Soledad made chilaquiles verdes; my favorite.
“Just keep it on this channel for a while,” I replied.
“There was nothing good on anyways,” Dad responded.
It looks like Pedro hadn’t done anything stupid just yet. I was about to text him to come back home when the news came back on after the commercials. My stomach sank and I lost my appetite.
“Breaking news!” The news anchor stated. “Our news helicopter is following a car without any license plates that has just robbed multiple 711’s and shows no signs of stopping.”
“Woah, a police chase, it’s barely eight!” Soledad said excitedly. “These are always so much fun to watch. Can we eat breakfast on the couch so we can watch?”
“Sure,” Mom answered, “just don’t make a mess!”
My family gathered on the couch to watch the pursuit. I still stood in awe with my phone in hand until my dad grabbed my arm.
“Come on,” he said, “Sit down with us.” He smiled.
I knew it was an innocent smile; I’m sure he smiled because it felt like we were a close family that enjoyed watching police chases. We haven’t had any moments like these since what felt like forever ago. I grabbed my plate of chilaquiles and found a spot next to Soledad on the couch. I never wanted to see a criminal get away from the cops so bad in my life.
I watched as Pedro drove recklessly through traffic, each maneuver more dangerous than the last. The rest of my family loved it until my mom pointed out just how close this runaway car was to us. Then, as if on cue, we faintly heard the helicopter overhead and sirens in the distance. We started to get worried, albeit I was worried for a different reason but, it let me show my nervousness without suspicion. The car wouldn’t give up no matter how many police cars chased it. It kept driving around the same locations. The chase ended up being long enough that we all finished eating breakfast. Mom and Soledad took our plates to the kitchen to wash them. Dad ended up falling asleep on the couch.
“So, could you tell us why this person would want to practically drive in circles?” the news anchor asked the man in the helicopter.
“Well, typically suspects like to drive in areas that they are familiar with so I could only assume that that is what this driver is doing. Also judging by the lack of license plates, I want to say that this driver was planning this well in advance.”
“What a bonehead move. He couldn’t even plan an escape route.”
“That’s right. I believe the police should be placing spike strips on the road as his route becomes more predictable. I’ve just been notified that he robbed those 711’s at gunpoint so the police are going to want to remove him from the road as soon as possible.”
“This is still going on?” Soledad asked after washing the dishes. “I’m going to my room.”
“Yeah,” Mom added, “I’m getting bored of it too. Hey, perezoso!” She nudged my dad awake. “Come to the room with me.”
My dad obliged and left. I heard some stern talking from my mom when she closed the door. I was all alone watching my brother being chased by police. I wondered if I should’ve told them that it was Pedro. If I did and Pedro got caught, we may be labeled as accomplices and that would complicate things. Although, not telling them led up to a somber moment in solitude. I wanted to cry, but I also wanted to believe that Pedro could get out of this. Just like the movies, maybe he could perform an amazing trick to hide from the cops long enough to be safe. Maybe he could drive into a tall parking lot and lose them when he was inside. Driving towards downtown may not be the worst idea either; the tall buildings could block the helicopter’s vision.
That was just my desperation talking.
On his next turn he drove over a spike strip that the police set up. He soon came to a stop but he still wouldn’t give up. He tried driving away but it was futile; he had no tires so sparks just went flying and barely moved. He refused to give in to despair. His car was stuck so the police behind him got out of their vehicles. They used their car doors as cover and aimed their guns at him. He finally stopped hitting gas and the sparks disappeared. Pedro didn’t get out of the car at first. I couldn’t tell what he was doing in there but eventually, he came out with his hands up. When he did, his gun was visible on the door of the car.
They shot at him.
“Woah, zoom out camera man,” the news anchor said. “We can’t show that!”
“An unexpected turn of events!” the man in the helicopter responded. “We’re going to have to turn the camera off because of the sudden gun shots. So sorry to everyone watching at home. Back to you in the studio.”
The news anchor made some unimportant comments on what was just shown and then went to commercials.
I fell to my knees, distraught at what I saw. I cried right there on the living room floor. I called Pedro’s phone, I didn’t care anymore if the police thought I was involved. I wasn’t thinking straight. How would Pedro even answer his phone? I hung up on the second ring and continued to sob. I hyperventilated. Soon, my family came back into the living room. I must've been making a lot of noise.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Mom asked. “What kind of man cries that much from something on TV?”
“Was it a sad news story, Hugo?” Dad questioned.
“Man up!” Soledad ordered.
As I stood up the news came back on.
“Hey, everyone,” the news anchor said with a plain expression, “to all who were watching the police pursuit just moments ago, we have just received information regarding the suspect. It was a young Hispanic man, perhaps in his early twenties. He had no ID on his person, not even a phone. The police shot this man twice, once in the leg and in the chest. He died at the scene of the crime. Let this be a lesson to all, crime doesn’t pay.”
“Is that what you were crying about?” Mom asked, “Some criminal?” She sighed and left the room.
Soledad followed her.
“It’s okay to cry, Hugo,” Dad said. “The biggest thing I’ve learned since losing my job at the factory is that it’s okay for men to cry.” He left the room too.
I turned off the TV and went to Pedro’s room, our room. I stared at Pedro’s bed. Looking at the bed was like looking at Pedro’s headstone. I remembered all the memories we had like when Pedro would drop me off for school or when we would play games together. He was the one who helped me with all his homework. Pedro was the one who taught him how to ride a bike and how to drive. Pedro was dead.
Pedro never came home. I locked myself in my room, thinking about how I should break the news to my parents or if I should let them figure it out themselves. I mean the police would identify him eventually, right? When that happens, they’ll find a way to notify us. I looked around the room, specifically Pedro’s side when I noticed something under his pillow.
It was note that said:
Hey Hugo, I’m sorry that this might be my last message to you. Truth is, I couldn’t stand being poor. The heist was my excuse to die. I just wanted out of this life, nothing was left for me here. You, on the other hand, have a gift for soccer. Use it. I know you could get some scholarships to get a full ride. Get drafted by a team and help out Mom and Dad. Be nice to Soledad too. I love you.
–Pedro
I could hardly read the last lines because my vision was blurred from tears. My breath was shaky too. Pedro instilled all his trust into me, it made me smile. I didn’t want to let him down. I cursed myself for not convincing him to stop the heist. Could I have saved him? I wasn’t sure. I put the note under my pillow instead. I had to think of a way to break the news to my parents. I was still depressed about his death so I decided to do it the next day. I went to sleep, facing Pedro’s bed, and prayed that I could provide for my family.
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