Pop Gun

Marcia’s still worried about my abrasiveness towards Ejido Chief, Crecencio. She’d been keeping an ear cocked for approaching vehicle noises, her fairly sure that some form officials were going to sweep in here and grab me. She pestered me to call both Ernesto and Roberto, see if there’d been rumblings. I waved her off. Told her I felt her fears overblown, bordering on ridiculous.

It’s fully a week since the incident; she’s gone for a run towards San Cosme with the three dogs. We’ve a new puppy. I’d gone for a walk in the opposite direction. My return I felt would pretty much mesh with her’s. I couldn’t have been too far off because the dogs were back...but her pickup was gone? I only stayed puzzled as to her whereabouts for several minutes before I heard the sound of her truck’s diesel engine.

At first I thought it was headed right back to our camp. But then...I could tell it was continuing past our camp's drive, back in direction I’d just come from. Feeling she must be hunting me, I cut cross country to try and intercept her wanderings. I figured she’d stop at Coyote Bob’s new camp, he’d tell her I just headed home. Talking to Bob, that’s where I spotted and then moved up behind her. He spots me coming, tells her. Excitedly she jumps from truck with paper waving from her hand. She’s obviously hyped up, almost upset.

She blurts out that Saul had given this to Guadalupe late last evening, this paper that she hands me. It’s a citation to appear at the office of the Judicial Police in Loreto, at 12:00, the 4th of March - which was that day! Initially this gave me a start, I’ll admit to that. I looked it over once, twice, real quick like while Marcia filled me in that Guadalupe had requested to sign and date and time some sort of receipt but that Trojillo had rebuffed her.

“Relax,” I told her as we rolled back to camp, “the first thing I want to do is call Roberto; play things from there.” Once back here we both looked over this citation again, Marcia pointing out that where it's suppose ta be signed and dated and stamped, there was nothing.

By cell phone Roberto quickly confirmed our suspicions. "All citations," he said, "have to be delivered by an official, must be dated and signed and give time of serving. Without that they were invalid, harmless. You can just ignore it," he adds. "No," I said, "I 'd rather meet this head on, that's more my style." If a conveient appointment could be arranged, I'd have been glad for opportunity to go in and defend myself, wasn't afraid. We both agreed that Sr. Yee should check up on this, just to be sure. "More hooky harassment by Saul and his trouble making few friends," that's how we both laughingly saw this thing. I went back to my shell polishing, really thought very little more about this that day. Certainly Marcia and I laughed more about it at martini time.

We're in Agua Verde helping Alejo move that trailer he'd just bought. With Marcia's truck he'd successfully pulled it from spot where it'd been resting. But it was getting dark and he wasn't at all comfortable with pulling it home up that Agua Verde road. Even in daylight he shied away from this. That's how I'd gotten involved. Me the experienced trailer hauler.

He'd parked it at his brother-in-law's casa there in Agua Verde for security's sake. As we descended steep hill over looking that small assemblage of casas, "Mucho banditos aqui, " my buddy intoned. I answered with a "Si!" Some of the tires were very low so we set into inflating them almost as soon as we pulled up. Alejo and me worked at getting all things ready while Marcia walked into mostly open-air casa to gab with Socorro, Alejo's sister-in-law, along with several younger senoras whose names I don't know. Soon Big Maria, who lives close by, worked her slow way over to join their conversation. They were laughing and joking about something, but, in truth, I didn't know what, my attentions being there with Alejo.

Marcia finally hollered over that I'd made local radio again, that had been the big joke there. Cresencio. He'd been saying all kinds of bad things about the bad gringo, Daveed Esmith. The ladies in there just loved this. Big Maria and Socoro both mentioned the radio attacks of the past season; the investigation that Immigrations had made, almost everyone in both sides of the village telling them that complaints against me had been nothing but lies, baloney. We told them about that most recent citation. All of us shared another laugh.

Pop! had gone Cresencio and Saul's pop gun. Our defensive shield, because the cork reached the end of its string before even brushing it, certainly had held. Sr. Yee talked to the head of the Judicial Police. I was advised to not waste time worrying about this almost nothing event. Close to all important officials there in Loreto, now, are pretty much wise to these clowns.

Email: david@dondavidonbaja.com