Wednesday, April 01, 2009
"Que dios te vendiga hijo"
"Ey, this foo has an Ipod." That's all it took. Coming outta a poetry workshop from Brooklyn and Boyle I see them walking at the end of the block. I knew what they were about by their sagging clothes and the way the bald one was pulling up his pants. I made the mistake of having my head phones out and around my neck, that what was gave me away. I usually never tend to leave my self so open specially late at night because they all come out at night, like predators.
I walk pass them and I hear and "Ey." I keep walking ignoring the first one and I hear it again, "Ey." I knew that from his tone he wasn't going to repeat himself again, at least not that nicely. I stop, turn around and get ready for what's about to come. "What kind of Ipod do you have ?" he ask me. I make a gesture with my hand, "It's a small one, one gig" thinking that maybe it'll deter him. "Let me see it anyway," he says to me. At that moment I let out a deep breath and give up.
I see in his eyes that he's got something up his sleeve. He's hiding something in those baggie pants. I like him in the eyes and the feeling of helplessness takes over. Nothing is worth risking my life, least nothing that's of material. "So you just want me to give it to then ?" I say to him. "Yeah" he replies. I look into his eyes again and I let out another deep breath. I can see that he's beginning to lose patience. "So you wanna do this the easy way or what ?" he ask me. "No. This isn't the first time this has happened to me" and before I could finish he cuts me off. "So whadaya waiting for then?"
I reach into my pocket and give him my phone. He gently reaches for it, looks it over and pauses. He gives it back. He ask me what it is and I tell him. He looks at it and realizes that he wouldn't know what to do with it if he did take it. He ask me if have some cash for pisto. I reach into my back pocket to pull out pennies. "Next offer them feria so they don't take your shit." I tell him I spent it earlier in the day buying food. I tell them about the other time when a black guy pulled a strap on me asking me where I'm from.
His friend starts walking toward me and says that there's a bunch of stupid fools over there. Just remember that you still have your pride, don't forget that" he says. I tell him that a phone isn't something I was going to risk life for. "Last time someone pulled this on they had a knife and brass knuckles so I wasn't going to me with you" I say. "I got a strap" he replies. "I know this foo. He's crazy that's why always keeping an eye on him from the side" says his companion.
Walking away from that moment, I realize how someone is looking out for me. I remember as I was crossing the street what my mom once told me, "que dios te vendiga hijo." She told me that in a Jack in the Box when my family was going back home from visiting here in L.A. All my life I've always had someone looking over my shoulder, even though I feel that I don't deserve one. I've done things that I regret, but that's the past. All that's left now is to make up for what I can with whatever I got. It's a never ending pursuit to make amends with the world.
Everything comes around, equivalent exchange. in order to gain, something of equivalent value must be lost or as my parents succinctly put it, no one leaves this world without reaping what they have sown. I don't know what how long it'll take to make up for what I did or if I even need to make up for it, but I won't be stopping any time soon. Someone is watching over me this I know and accept.