No Picnic

As promised, my short story Mexican Vacation:

Mexican Vacation

          Dave lay perfectly still on the cool adobe floor. He kept his eyes shut and listened to the infected rats shuffling across his cell. He could hear the screams of the former occupants of this six-by-six hell hole. In Spanish or English, it didn’t matter; horror was horror in any language. He forced open the swollen slits he called eyes. Damn, he thought as they fought for light. His disappointment grew as they opened and remained open. Oh well, another beautiful day in La Paz, Baja California.

          Outside the chalky, bleached-white walls, turistas laughed, guzzled down watered-down margaritas, and posed for silly pictures wearing oversized sombreros. They gobbled down boiled camarrones as big as your fist and swayed rhythmically to the mariachi renditions of traditional Mexican folk songs.

          Inside the rotting yellow interior walls Dave’s heart continued to vomit thick blood, keeping him alive one more day. In the corner sat what remained of yesterday’s rice and beans, processed through his bleeding bowels. Next to the fly-riddled mass, the leaking bowl of liquid mocked him. Come on, Dave. Drink it. I know the guards pissed and spit into it again, but you’ve got to stay alive. Only eight more months.

          Dave raised the greasy tin bowl to his lips and drained it.

          Eight more months. His original sentence of six years had grown to ten years and eight months for defending his virgin anus from a drunken prison guard. He wondered why he bothered at all. He remained a “virgin” for only two more weeks and then….Dave knelt over his own shit and puked what remained of his roiling guts all over the surprised flies. Yeah, he thought. Another beautiful day in La Paz, Baja California.

          All this for a couple kilos of cheap Mexican weed. Such a deal for Pretty Boy Dave. If, no WHEN he got out, he was heading back to Laguna Beach and some ten-foot glassy California surf. He couldn’t wait; but he had to. Only eight more months, he thought to himself.

          Dave limped in to the barren courtyard while the guards sprayed his walls down, but the stench never got washed away. It was Dave’s only friend and constant companion.

          In the following seven months and twenty-nine days, Pretty Boy Dave Willows was raped twelve times, four times by inmates and eight by the guards. His two front teeth were knocked from his head in yet another vain attempt to protect what little remained of his dignity. He drank at least two hundred more bowls of piss and spit water, got diarrhea twenty-five times, and dreamed of his beloved Laguna Beach every second of his miserable existence.

          Dave didn’t sleep at all on his last night in the cell; the guards saw to that. Afterwards, Dave limped back to his cell, but he was still focused on his departure. He regaled his rat friends with one last story: The Triumphant Return of Pretty Boy Dave Willows.

          Daybreak found Dave smiling and enjoying the unique ambience that had been his palace for the last ten years and eight months. Lindo, the most abusive of his jailers, leered lustily at Dave and cackled.

          “Orale precioso, how you like it last night? You gonna miss Big Lindo?” His maniacal laugh echoed throughout the soon-to-be-empty cell.

          Yeah, I’m gonna miss you, you bean-sucking asshole. I’m gonna miss you a lot. Dave grinned and stumbled on.

          Dave was numb as he was marched across the dusty courtyard for the last time. To home. Freedom. He would be issued a one-way bus ticket to El Paso, Texas. USA. Freedom. He was so numb, in fact, that he didn’t even feel the slimy hands of Lindo as he pulled Dave to him and whispered in his ear.

          “You come back and see me pollo. Lindo love you mucho.

          Dave was oblivious to everyone and everything including the chunk of black tar heroin that Lindo had slipped into his pocket.

          Dave turned to Lindo and the other guards and smiled. Oh well, kiss my white ass, I am outta here, he thought. “Hasta la whatever” was what came out.

          Pretty Boy Dave Willows, with a grand total of eleven teeth, was all smiles as he headed for the main jail where he would be strip-searched one last time in front of the warden.

Another beautiful day in La Paz, Baja California.

Stay well.

Published by maddogg09

I am an unmotivated genius with an extreme love for anything that moves the emotional needles of our lives.

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