PART 6

in the wake of the french fry zombies roaming east l.a.. ana maria had decided to go to dona juana

to have some french toast. wandering the neighborhood that day.. things seemed a little odd. the news

had not reported yet about the goldline going under water because of some type of pippes and earthquake saaftey

requirements that the city new about since even before they began building the goldline. after many months

of arguing with city officials the probelm went ignored. and even after the protest of so many individuals

about fixing the issues especially after new orleans and katrina. no body paid any attention.

ana maria walked causally down to get her french toast. smiling to maria who was already out at 7 in the morning

with a gentle soothing yell. “donas! donas! tamales! tamales!” it was loud enough to be heard over any on coming

traffic and dogs. but not so loud that it woudl disrupt the gentle sleep of the barrio. because the crazy hours

kept in the neighborhood. you never knew. it could be that someone was barely falling asleep after a long night

working, cleaning hotels. or doing garbage dump truck runs. quien sabe. ana maria.. waved to don ramiro who

even though he had worked all night at his two jobs.. working at the motel and working at the hilton downtown.

he still managed to before crawling into bed. greet maria. whom he had an  insatiable crush. and this morning

he felt compelled to tell her. but instead. he just purchased all of maria’s donas y tamales. don ramiro hoped

all his hard earned money and the gesture would speak louder than any of his feeble fumbled attempts he had

made over the last two years.

anamaria was baring witness to the whole thing. and she wore a candid smile as she approached the whole event.

pretending that she too wanted some tamales. but in reality all she wanted was the chisme. “I’ll take all of them”

Don Ramiro exclaimed in a proud mexicano voice as if he were sitting on the best caballo in all of jalisco and

was placing a coat on a muddy road for a mujer to walk the street.

“Pero Don Ramiro. What the hell are you going to do with so many tamales”

Don Ramiro looked startled by the response. Surely she knew his calvary. his shivalry. his mexican bravado.

“i said i’ll take all of them”.. Ana maria looking on. As she saw the reddening cheeks of Maria as she knew

exactly what was happening but fought stubborningly against the gesture and her opportunity to earn her

money. You see Maria had sent two young chicanos off to college on the pure will of selling tamales and donas

to a good chunk of east l.a. and she sure was hell was not gonna let no Mexican Super Chente Wannabe take

away the dignity in her work. Regardeless if she adored him and how much she looked forward to turning the

corner on chavez and (the street before Evergreen).. to greet don ramiro. it made her glow. sometimes she woke up

to his light brown eyes in her dreams. staring back at her. “buenos diaz maria” She would even head down the alley

way near Chavez and Mott. behind the guitarra shop. Regardless if that was a busy intersection that would get

her tamales sold at that time in the morning. she would go out back in the alley and make sure her make up

was on right. hair prestine which she sometimes braided just for don Ramiro. but to hell if she was gonna let this

cabron try to sweep her off her feet not like that. this was not how she had imagined this day would come.

Pero Don Ramiro.. what are you going to do with so many pinche tamales and donas. and beside dona flores

down on evergreen y cinncinati wanted two dozen this morning. i can’t sell you all of them.. she was lying so bad her eyes

wandered insatiably.

this infuriated don ramiro. i have 8 .. no 20 compadres coming over for breakfast and i need tamales and donas. and every

body knows you have the best tamales in this barrio. don ramiro had not had any compadres come over to the house

ever since he stopped drinking the first time he saw maria. he was lying so bad. she could see right through his trembling

hand.

all the while anamaria smiling. with her dollar out. watching the whole interaction. so silly love is. but sooooooooooo passionate

and juicy she thought. as she watched the two squabble over. their love. that was now bursting. w

all the while having no clue of the waters that were pouring over the gold line. or the zombie french fried vatos and homegirls that

were about to take over east l.a.

 

PART 5

Taru was standing at the side of the road. Watching the people flee. And all he could think of doing was continue writing in his solar powered laptop. As long as there is still sun. he thought. There are still words. He wrote and didn’t seem to be bother by the screams of children and elders. Passing him by. All the ways in which the city was transforming. Whether it was transgressing or transcending. This time of no time would give answers. In another moment. Right now this moment. Held for him all the words that he never seem to bother with before. He could find ways to describe this fleeing mural landscape in front of him. His neighbor keeled over on the earth begging for his life.  The abuela dancing along the side walk. With a broom in her hand as she decided to sweep everything in front of her with a smile in her face. As she went out towards lorena y cesar chavez. She decided she was going to work her way all the way towards sunset blvd and chavez. All the while smiling. Sweeping with her broom . She had wrapped a piece of sage on the top, near where her left hand rested. And began to sweep the whole neighborhood. Inch by inche. Prayer by prayer. Heading in the opposite direction of where most people were heading. She was cleaning towards downtown. While she crossed the street. She didin’t speed up her pace just took her time crawling at a snail pace to sweep the streets.

Taru noticed that there was a young baby who had been zombiefried. The baby boy crawling on his own head to the mckdonalz on soto st. just crawling down cesar chavez like there was nothing oout of the ordinary. His mother. Was blocks away. Ahead of him having forgotten in the process of heading to the crappy joint. She realized she had to put him down in order to be able to get their faster. Mcrapper zombies where not really fast or slow. The just were. Until you got close enough you couldn’t really see what was going on with them. If there was anything out of the ordinary. For months before this happened people had been in some kind of a frienzy over mckrappy meals french fries and apple crusty pies. Everywhere you went you could see people in long lines over that stuff. So much so that these mckrappy french fry trucks where appearing all over the neightborhood. Some where all decked out all lowridered out. Its as if mckrappers had taken their marketing targetting latinos campaign to the next level. They even had the aztec calendar printed out on their packaging. Calling it the mac azteca meal. They offered a complemenatary pack of blue corn tortillas with ever purchase of frechy fries.

The government were the ones pullling up to take them away. When they finally started doing sweeps. Well it look liked government trucks from a distance. They would step into the mckrapper restaurants they would watch as one would or two people would be heating up the oil batches on the mackrappy grill. While the masses somewhat patiently waited for the fries to be done. Others were in the back. Just eating the uncooked fries. Others crawling on the floor looking for bits of mckrappy fries left behind .

 letter found floating along the concrete river

Julieta

I came to this country many years ago. I was 3 years old when my parents brought me to this america. The one you call the north. The one that at times you want to imagine is the only north america. But this america stretches out towards Canada and goes all the way down towards the tips of chile. Ecuador Bolivia.  But I am not this america  but that america. That I speak of the grander one. And I’ve grown tired of this country. All its assumptions about who I am. I’m tired of living in fear of what I have been handed here. I cannot stand the way I live in fear. Watching all of you be happy. And all of you with your backwards thinking. I am not a wetback. I am not illegal. I am on my land. But everywhere I go I am made to feel this. To feel that I don’t belong here. That this is not my country. That I am not american. And all the while I’ve been watching all these people turn into the zombies that we all are. By the time you read this. I’ll be gone. Away from all this pain inflicted by this country. By the way you destroy the heart of people. Of cultures. i don’t care waht you make of me anymore. i’m tired. of all of this. so you don’t need to take me. back to where i came from. i don’t need to hide anymore. i don’t need to worry about whether or not i will see my father again. i don’t care anymore what happens with the dream act. i don’t care what happens with defferred action. i don’t care if you even read this. i don’t care for this humiliation anymore. i don’t care about this country or that country or any borders anymore. this country needs to change. these countries need to change. this world needs to change.

signed

julieta ramirez 

Ramero

I am sending these voices out to all of you listen today. I know this may seem like some ordinary day in the barrio. But I’m watching this whole snenangins. Play out here on cesar chavez. As you know I am recording right now from cesar chavez  2604 apartment seven. Staring out into the randomness happening outside. I am the people’s reporter. And the crazyiness I’m witness is quite spectacular. You know it seems like in this day and age. With all the fear and propaganda that gets put out there. You think that by now we would learn to calm down. It looks out there. Like if there was a clearance sale at the 99. Or at kmart. I don’t know what the hell is going on out there. But people are running around like lunatics. Ofcourse.. lucky for you. I had a bullet proof window years ago. So this radio station could keep on going dispite mini riots like this. But ofcourse I have my bullet proof vest and handy bullet proof soldier helmet I bought on ebay. So I can keep you informed about barrio knews and go where no radio man has gone before. But it looks like this could be the one of the best riots out here. Since god knows when. Maybe even better thatn the watts riots. I’m going to be live streaming for those of you able to watch these sorts of things on the internet. But as alsways I am hear for the gente. For all of you without access to internet and still listening to the radio. Maybe that’s just five or five hundred or five thousand or five hundred thousand of you. No se. but I’m here to serve. Those of you still crazy enough to stay. But I highly recommend that you don’t . obvio I don’t think I have ever seen anything like this. And I’m watching five choppers coming from the downtown police surveillance. You know them old war machiens that they used to use in desert storm and all them other conquistador invasion this america is so good at. Well I’m watching them right now come over her.e now you might be wondering while the hell I ain’t fleeing the scene. Just asking you to recall. I am the voice and eyes of the people. By the people for the people. And well.. pues I got to go down with this east l.a. space ship if this is the end. But I have a feeling que no. pues. Why. Because my ancestors never spoke of this time. 2012. As an apocalypse. No quite the contrary folks. They saw it as an awakening. So maybe right now as I’m watching chato blast at officer Ramirez. And it looks as if they are forming some sort of truce in order to create some order down there. Pero pues. I don’t know. Whats gonna happen. But it’s a new day in east l.a. when cops and cholos are working together folks. Hopefully they wont aspire to form a bigger ganga because we all know how that goes. With power and things. There is a growing sphere of blue and red light that I can’t really see what it is. But there are people flocking to it. can’t imagine that its radiation. But it is growing. And I can’t imagine that its bad because the folks that do see it are going towards it.

 

Now you might wonder why the hell. I’m going to get on this microphone and get all philosophical in this time of immediate crisis. Why I am not telling you to run the hell out of here. Or call 911. Because I imagine that if you are still in the barrio. You like me. Don’t make much of this as just another day in the barrio. Just a little bit on steroids I would say. And you like me. Are just sitting at home. Imagining that as long as I stay low to the ground. Don’t bother nobody . then  I’m going to be safe. Well. Pues. I commend you for you role in this community rigght now of providing calm. Because I can hear officer Ramirez out there right now. And I don’t imagine that he’s being to success in calming the people dwon with his loudspeaker. Or with this  gun firing. Bueno. So. Ofcourse chato on the rough top of that payless shoe source isn’t much help either. But atleast he’s having fun. Amongst all this paranoia. And I can alteast say that there is no burning buildings. Yet. … oh never mind. The panaderia just has a small fire coming from the front. I mean really folks. El pavo panaderia. Is that what we want to torch. They provide some of the best conchitas in town. Now I’m not denying that the “ldjladjgla;” over on fourth street isn’t amazingly delicious especially if you roll down there around 7 or 8 in the morning. Pero. You cannot deny me that el pavo has got some good pan either. So why people. Really why are we burning that down people. Now you guys want to burn something down. There are plenty of establishments in town that are doing a worse job to our livers and our lungs. I won’t go beyond  that because there is the patriot act out there screening my words somewhere. Don’t need nobody barging in here for reporting the news.. pero bueno. Things are good despite this . madness I would say. I mean the sun isn’t burning us over. Well atleast not completely. We are here. Waiting for the rebirth of quetzalcoatl. This new day. This new beginning. This rebirth is us gente. I’m hoping that this will do it. you know this chaos outside our doors right now. Don’t know how it started when it started. But I’m hoping this will lead to our awaekin. Gente. Where we for once can begin to work together. School teachers. School grounds. Police . policing. Policying. Barrio warriors come to terms with how they can really work as a really gang helping our juventud. Now I ain’t pointing fingers. I ain’t looking to blame nobody really. This world has enough of that and mind you that I do have a sense of our histories. Our stories. Our herstories. You guys have heard enough from the different abuelas y abuelos that I interview along with youth leaders that are making things happen in the neighborhood. Because I’m hear to inform. I’m hear to try and help this communidad move forward. So come on my gente. Lets keep it real. There is enough oppression out there. Lets not oppress ourselves . and policia . come on .. protect our gente. Keep us informed as we try to keep you informed. Thank you for those that have participated in the clean and green airways clean up in east los. Thank you to our sponsors las abuelas eloteras del barrio and the abuelos paleteros del barrio. They are out there not only selling elotes y paletas para la gente but also keeping you informed on the latest in la migra policies and actions. So please help keep them in business. And yours truly rameo el llanto del barrio jiminez on the airwaves.

PART 4

 

Blanca was heading down atlantic blvd and chavez. Her right arm was twitching very sporadically. But she could feel her insides turning. She was a bit regretful that she hadn’t quit eating that mc donald’s food. She could feel it churning inside her and she could feel her brain begin to mushify. She felt the insides of her turning into one big pile of special sauce lettuce cheese. She began to regret everytime she had eaten a mickey deez apple pie. On automatic as she was twitching down atlantic blvd head towards chavez. She remembered everytime she had ever taken a bite of an apple pie. Backwards she recalled the last one she had eaten last week. And all the subsequent months all the way back to the first memory of McKrappers. She watched herself laughing with friends ditching school and heading to mcKuleros to have a bite. Chomp. She watched herself after soccer practice having a extra large diet coke and fries and apple pie. Now recalling how awful she would usually feel after the fact. The nausea, the brain dead crash. All the parts of her dying. Now. She could feel her right side go numb for a while. Then begin to irradically twitch again. All the while. She is remembering all the dreams she had been having for months now. About the concrete river being overflowed and east l.a. overflowing with water.

 

5 puntos was the highest location she could think of that was near by. She was trying to find someone out on the street corner that could recognize her. That might not already have turned. And that in turn. Would not recognize that she was turning. She had been organizing her classmates around catastrophic emergencies such as the one she felt was now occurring. One day in sixth period she blurted out to class” Hey folks. A lot of you don’t know me. But ever since that thing happened in Katrina I have been doing a lot of thinking around the fact that if anything like that ever happened here we need to be prepared. You saw how long it took for bush and the government to respond to the people out there. And the reality is folks, if that’s what happened to the black folks of this country. What do you think its gonna be like for us? I mean you have laws that have passed like 287g and sb1070, hb56 and other type stuff that shows. They don’t care about us. You got detention centers where they are taking our folks , you know mexicanos, centro Americanos, indigenas, sometimes even chicanos that are born here just because they don’t have an id. and I know things are a little different here in east l.a. but really. I highly doubt that one day. If something like that. You know. Lets say a big earthquake. A tsunami were to hit us. here. I kinda don’t think the national guard or anybody else is gonna come to rescue us. the last time any type of attention was given to us by them. Was when we had the Rodney king riots back in 1992. And the only reason the national guard was down here was to make sure we didn’t tear up rodeo drive. Really. Because they didn’t come and stop us from looting. Or anything like that.. really. All I’m saying is that if we expect them to help us instead of us helping ourselves. We’re in big trouble. ” a couple of students actually paid her some attention. But the majority of folks simply laughed the whole thing off. Imagining that she was probably smoking too much maryjane. And that her paranoia would subside by the time the bell rang to go home. She managed over the next couple of months to organize a couple of teens. Despite the fact that she was herself beginnignn to have sleepless nights. Chronic insomnia due to the crazy dreams she was having. Waters drowing everyone she knew. Blanca in some dreams watching all of east l.a. be underwater except for the barrios high enough to not get washed away like 5 puntos. She was four miles away from this place. and with the insuing chaos. She couldn’t imagine that she might actually end up making it to there. Especially with all the twitching in her body. The numbness. She felt she was losing fast. Why did she have that pinche supersize last Sunday.she thought. Why didn’t she see this coming.

 

She recalled when she was eight years old and her mother had taken her to mc donals for her birthdate. And she remembered the faint smell of greased up French fries that she could feel now consuming her brain. Her right temple began to tremble and grow numb . irradically these feeling would alternate. She was remembering being four years old with her cousin kiki fighting over the mckrappy meal toy and then spilling all the food they were also fighting over on the mckrappy linoleum. And in all her snot filled face that had managed to rip the toy from her cousin kiki’s hands. She began to eat off the floor . all the bits of cold stale fries. They had been fighting for half an hour in the restaurant and both their parents were so busy chomping on their own mukkrud meals that they hadn’t paid attention to their wailing children. Blanca remembered all the way back to a time when she was not even off the chee chee. When her mother was fitting her mashed bits of mukscukky fries and soft bits of whatever the hell is in those apple pies. She traveled even further than that as she twitced more and more in her body. She could feel herself. Inside her mothers womb. Hearing the muffled gurgles of her mother sipping on a super sized diet high fructoce corn syrup. She recalled her knee jerk reaction of being inside her mothers body. Knowing that this insatiable substance was entering . and try all she could. Blanca not being named blanca yet was about to be drowned not only in rivers of high fructose corn syrup, but a wad of mckrap sludge. She recalled the first time. These substances took over her whole material world. Her body. Drowned. And she could even then recall the numbing sensation that took over her yet under developed brain, body and soul. She was remembering all of this. All the while trying to get back to the new alternative high school on Gage and Chavez. She had been organizing for weeks out of that high school. And had told her fellow classmates. If shit when down that would be the first meeting point. Not realizing. Or imagining that when all of this would happen that she would find herself. On the other side of town at her tio memo’s house watching him turn into a mickey deez French fry zombie. And even worse. Not imagining that she would slowly be turning into the same mckrappy garbage.

They were watching the whole thing on t.v. Blanca and her uncle. Watching Univision en Spanglish. As the aguila reported back to the people that masses and masses of people were wandering the streets heading to their favorite French fry location. Thousands upon thousands of people in east l.a. were breaking into mcdonalds. And eating the so called French fries. The scattered look in their eyes. Being that Blanca’s cousin worked at Univision Blanca had some of the inside twitter scoop. Blanca’s cousin Rufina thought that this was her shot at becoming the new star reporter for Univision, so she hit the streets armed with her Tia Chucha’s paint ball gun. She went out to interview as many of the French fry zombies as she could because she had noticed that they were really harmless when it came down to it. all they wanted was some pinche French fries from mckrappers. Rufina figured that the best way to get to be the new top reporter was to interview as many zombies in their different states of zombifriedness. She also figured she needed to give them an original name that would become the tag line that everyone picked up.

 

All the while the franchise was trying to capitalize on the frenzy. Opening up make shift mobile fry fry trucks. Since by now the franchise had become so huge that they had money backing up every corner of east los and beyond. But they had stationed mukkrappy trucks everywhere. They were armored trucks from the banks that they had taken over. They had been ready for this day for years. They had city drump trucks filled with piles and piles of French fries. Lining up. Ready to dump all over the city. The prison complex was at this point one of the safest places in east l.a. since very few of the inmates were being affected by this particular epidemic. The prisoners were experiencing a different set of circumstances. As they watched some prison gaurds begin to cry in front of them. On the other side of the cell. Apologizing to them. For all the times they had wronged them

 

 

‘I’m so. Sorry. For all the times I have mistreated you. I don’t know how it is that I help put you here”

 

 

Well you can help by taking me out of here.

 

No I can’t do that either.

 

 

Come on ese. All you have to do open up this pinche cell!

 

Just sobbing and sobbing. All these different prison guards sobbing over their own crimes. So unable to stop sobbing. That they wrapped their minds inside of their own mental prisons. Some wardens began to beat themselves with their batons. While others began to handcuffthemselves to prison inmates cell bars.

“I’m sorry. I’m like you now. Now I can listen to you”

“nah man! You can give me the motherfucken keys dawg! that’s what you can do!”

“no I’m sorry I can’t.. I have to change this. I have to change all of this relationship we don’t have” as officer Juarez said this. He tossed the keys of his handcuffs and the cell doors to the first floor

Of the jail. Where it was out of the reach. Of anyone insight. Other gaurds were doing the same.

‘I have to talk to you. I’m here to listen now. I’m here with you. I’m sorry”

“You aint sorry motherfucka!! You just threw the damn keys out! Pendejo. Now we’re both locked up”

“no you see. Now that we are here together. We can change things”

Roberto began to grab the prison guard that was locked up to his cell door. And began to slam him against the bar doors. The limb body of the non resisting guard, slamming his face. His nose. His cheeks. Along the bar doors. With blood seeping through his nose and mouth. He gurgled. While spitting out two teeth.”Its okay… you know. Its okay. We don’t have to fight anymore. We are free. Just stop.

“motherfucka!! I’mma rip your mothafucken arm off. So you can go get that damn key and get me the fuck outta here man. I know whats happening out there. And I ain’t going down like that. I ain’t gonna be stuck in here.

The majority of the prisoners were not responding the way Roberto had responded. Most began to have tremendous compassion for their new inmates. As the gaurds began to cry. Some read them from the bible. Some sang them songs. Some read them spoken word pieces. Others just sat there. Listened to them. The way no one had ever listened to them. Here these men and women. Were feeling regret. Pain. Hurt. For all the years of oppression they had enforced on others. And they began to remember instances where they had been enforced. By church. State. Home. And other institutions. So it was no surprise. As these internal memories. Became more vivid. They became aware of all that they had inflicted. They watched these men crumble in front o fmen they had turned into caged animals. And in all the heart. These other men displayed for these men. Just watching men listen to each other. Acknowledge each other. All these men collapse inside their manhood. Their humility. Their pride and ego finally failing them. These men. Loved these men. And these men. Also loved those men. All the men. Learned and listened. Put their hands to rest. Put their fist to rest. And watched the men. Become the parts of the men. Parts of them women . that needed to become women. Again. They watched all of this together. Their chests collapsed. Tambien. They felt themselves. Lean into each other. Despite the borders. Despite themselves. These men becoming men. Some of these men had been incarcerated since they were 18. Some of these men had become guards not too much longer after they were 18. They learned. The same. Taught the same. Ached the same. But neither could acknowledge it. be this until now. The way men. Can finally see men . be men.

 

 

Rogelio had been shot down many years back. Before it was even hip to be a chicano. He was a youngster talking about war way before the Chicano memoratorium. He had been hung by police officers back in the 50’s near lorena and first st. his body was on display for other barrio misfits to see what could happen to them if they didn’t follow procedure. At the height of this incident they shot his already hung body. The mexicanos of that neighborhood tried to protest to no avail. As bracero hatred still lingered in the barrio there was no way of creating criminal cases of officers. In those days. It was still like the old west. So this 19 year old body lay hung there. On a street lamp post. Until some other officers finally came and took the body down and laid him to rest in the evergreen cemetery. But now.in the middle of screeching cars. And sirens and shots firing. Rogelio’s bones began to crawl out of the cemetery. His rotted yellowing and browing skeleton surrounded by a raw white light. The sincerity of his eyes glowing with a soft blue light. His eyes held a sadness and protective state of being. As he began to crawl out of the cemetery. Looking for other vatos. He realized as he crawled out. That he no longer was whom he last remembered being. He stared at his hands. His bones. He stared at his empty rib cage. The dawning light that encompassed him. His panic dropped him to his boney knees. He let out an immense wail shriek, with the prowress of a cuicatl. And the towering fear of a mouse inside a mouse trap. All at once the spiraling wail shredded some of the earth that surrounded him. The confusion of his spirits new form. Startled him. He cried what felt like the nineteen years of his previous life that had been stuck. As his tombstone had been left unmarked by the police offices who buried Rogelio.

PART 3

 

xotchitljaguar ran across the treat. staring at ramiro. ramiro so caught up in the worlds he was being shown. didn’t pay

much attention to the fact that she was entering his sphere of light. the moment xotchitljaguar stepped into the space.

with her eyes closed. firmly grasping her beebee gun. she felt a tinge of heat wrap around her body. she felt her eyes

break open. as she suddenly stared directly into ramiro’s eyes. and he opened his star filled pupils to glance at hers.

suddenly they were connected inside this oneness. while her instant regretful fear tried to encompass her. she felt

a sudden ancient familiarity with ramiro. and inside her silent gaze. she called to him with her thoughts. told ramiro.

“cuando naci me llamaba. maria jaurez. mis padres son de chihuahua . soy hija de maria de la cruz. y juan fernandez

juarez. but the elders told me my real name is xotchiljaguar. flower jaguar.”

ramiro. seven years old in body. acknowledge her with his ancient eyes. and said to her. without speaking “yo me llamo

el que camina los ultimos pasos. I am called the one that walks the last steps..”

with this xotchitl jaguar felt her head tilt back. as she began to travel inside her mindseyes. she could see all the times

before she was called flower jaguar. from the moment inside . she returned to an era thousands and thousands of years

before. when her parents. all in white. with mexica emblems on their clothes. had first recieved knowledge from the fire

that her name was xotchitl jaguar. there were no elders insight. there was no one directing this fire. it was simply the fire

of their tiny home. that they had lit on her 13th birthday to ask the fire. what her name was. they had made simple offering.

some copals. some yerbas from their gardens. flowers to the fire that they had planted the day she was born. flowers, colors

and plants they had watched grow. die. be reborn. for 13 years. flowers, colors and plants they had offered up to the fire

when she was 4 years old. when they had name her xo. flowers, colors and plants they had offered. to the fire. when she was

7 and they had named her xotchitl. flowers, colors , scents and chocolatl that the fire renamed her at 9 years old, xotchitl coatl.

flower serpant. and now the fire renamed her again. at 13. flower jaguar. she watched these moments. in images. sounds. scents

recalling in an instant. these truths of her name.

all the while in the back of her ears. she could faintly hear officer ramirez. shooting off his gun and arguing with some crazy vatos

atop the payless shoe sources rooftop..

PART 2

chapter 1 continued

officer ramirez began to cry and wimper. calling out to his uncle memo. Memo i’m gonna take care of you.

don’t worry. Memo amongst all the mckrap ooze.. special sauce lettuce cheese spilling from his organs.

and his mouth. managed to smile with gleemless eyes back at his nephew. as if to say.. “its all good mijo.

you just drag my bleeding body over to the mcdonal’s and get me some supersized fries. y todo va estar

bien. its all gonna be good mijo..” officer ramirez took his ooze soaked hands off of his uncle’s french fried

zombiefied body . stared at it. and threw up again.. he reached out for his pistol and making sure he was

aiming towards some random part of the barrio sky he thought would not get hit by stray bullets. he fired.

all the while holding onto the bullhorn.. “come on mi gente!! RAZA QUE TE PASA.. its just another day in

the barrio! QUE NO?” his shots. and his siren blowing. and his voice. went unheard. because amongst all

the madness. the shots. the siren blowing. his police calls. were just another bit of random barrio noise that

day.

he managed. to notice that across the way. was a young child. crying in extremely calm sort  of way. the likes

he had never seen. it was like watching an old man. staring off into the last parts of their life. in the chaos.

this calm youngster. surrounded by a growing sphere of light. blue and red. a top the roof top of the of the payless

shoe source. some crazy vatos began to blast at officer ramirez. officer ramirez. crouched to the side of his

lowrider cop car. and grabbed his pistol in one hand. and the microphone in the other. “okay okay.. mi gente

this is not a typical barrio day.. so just keep in mind.. right now. vatos!! we’re on the same side. i aint blasting

at you. please dont blast at me” with that.. the sound of a shot gun cracking his windshield. while these vatos

from the rooftop. cracked up and laughed so hard officer ramirez could here them.

“hahahaha!! orale vato! we’re gonna remember you said that. and when this is over you better take off that

parking ticket you gave me when i was at the benjamin franklin library ay!! because for one!! they were charging

me for a copy of “Always Running” that i never took out!!” Clicking his shot gun and with precision firing off

another shot in the exact same place on the windshield he had just shot at! Laughing even harder as he gave

a fist-pounding dabs to his homies.. “I have a signed copy of the pinche book by Luis Rodriguez why would i

go and check it out from the pinche library!! You gave me ticket-ton Ramirez!! And you better remove my pinche

warrants!! man! “Clicking his shot gun a third time he shot out the street sign so that it would fall directly in front

of officer ramirez.. cracking up even louder as his homies. yelled.!!

” Damn dawg all them years of playing resident evil paying off dawg!! you the shit”

“so Ramirez.. I know we gotz a deal because.. right now.. i aint’ asking for no metal of honor . even though this

is definitely worth that. And i ain’t gonna take any other plea bargain!!” fist pounding his homies. with another

click of his shot gun.

“okay we have a deal.. now let me do my job!!” officer ramirez. watched his oozed filled uncle memo. continue

draggin himself towards the mcdonalds. before a speeding ice cream truck ran over the oozing body of his tio.

he tried to reach for his siren. pero.. it was too late. the body lay covered in what looked like a run over mc krappy

meal.. all the remains of his uncle memo. turned into massed left overs.

PART 1

 

xochitljaugar ran across the street. to where ramiro was. on instinct she wanted to understand the glow

he was emitting. she saw his tears falling. she knew that long beach ocean waters were over taking the

barrio. and she was looking for somewhere to go. she still had tears streaming on her face from maria

telling her about her mother. ‘it was the last thing i heard her say. mija te amo. daughter i love you.”

the whimpering tears of her mother who was coming home from work on the goldline. she was so

close to getting home. when all the waters took over the goldline. her chest grew tight remembering

this that had just happened. now maria was motherless just like xochitljaguar. xochitljaguar’s mother

had been deported years ago, taken back to juarez where she was gunned down by the men they

had tried to runaway from years before. now here she was. shooting at mickey’s deez fry loving zombies

without really feeling out of place. without feeling like she needed to find shelter immediately. there

was a calm about her. xochitljaguar felt the calmest she had ever felt in her life. the fact that she

was undocumented for once didn’t matter admist all this chaos. she patiently walked across the street

even as there were cars speeding passed her. screaming. honking. some lowrider was running over

a zombie. while a young man in a white collar shirt. blood stained. was hollering about the end times.

” all of you. repent. the time has arrived. this is the second coming. know that thy lord is here. waiting

for you response. let it go. nothing matters.” tears streamed along his blood smeared face. “the rise

of the sinners! has come to an end. the apocalypse is now!Bestow the lord now. the time is now!”

she could hear this man. faintly. in her corazon. somehow this truth registered inside her. and she

could hear herself responding inside.”but there is nothing new about this. we have always had these

things in front of us. this is our humanity in front of us.” she was no longer a 15 year old illegal.

she was hearing the elders that had given her that name so many years before. she was hearing

herself. her soul. who she was. amongst the burning king taco truck. she was no longer afraid of

the police car that was driving slowly passed her wailing its siren. office ramirez in all this madness

was trying to direct traffic still. it was all that he could imagine himself doing. he talked with his head

out using the loudspeaker of his lowrider police car….

“okay everyone, calm down. this isn’t a state of emergency. its just another day in the barrio.” as he blurted

this out of his ranfla. he unknowningly had runover a mickey deez zombie. It was his tio memo. who

had been dealing with diabetes for years, but in all the insulin that he was taking. he didn’t stop eating

at mckrappers. what he had done instead was instead of eating supersized combo number 4. he would

go in and get a mcsappy meal. when officer ramirez ran over his uncle. he could see that instead of blood

something like a mix between the big crap special sauce and the apple pie filling was spilling from his uncle’s

chest. “i’m sorry tio memo! i’m so sorry” officer ramirez tried to stop the hemmoraging. even though he

vomitted in the process. and in the vomitting he noticed that his vomit looked so much like his tio’s spilling

guts. which made him through up more. all the while placing more pressure with his hands. as he called

for a 911 vehicle. over the loudspeaker. he wailed.. “todos por favor! con calma! tenemos que estar calmados!

we need to be calm my gente! its just another day in the barrio!”

 

PART 0 (TEOLOL)

 

black birds gathered on the barrio sidewalk. first and soto. the curbside

littered with them. the goldline had been filled with the waters coming

from long beach. the waters were not high enough to fill the street corner.

but they had begun to rise. the gawking black birds filled the corner.

as people began to pack their bags. who would have thought that this

would create the max exodus so many had been craving for years.

no more need for yelling out .. “go back to mexico, wetback” because

not only were the mejicanos leaving. but all the hipsters. chipsters. government

officials. ice. everyone. but there were those staying behind. some shouting

on the street corner. “jesus is the only one who can save you!” “mexica

tiahui.. our time has come. people of the seventh sun rise! with ometeotl!

rise with tonatiuh. We will not be hurt as long as we believe!” all the while

so many scramming the hell out of the barrio. the first street art district

barely beginning to flourish. all them folks sadden by this pinche reality.

bust. dang. all their plans washing away. in el terror de la realidad que estaba

pasando. there were those leaving crying. yelling for their grandmothers.

others laughing while their eyes watered in tears. some crazy enough headed

towards arizona despite what they were gonna face over there. others wild

enough. started building makeshift boats, barcos to head towards hawaii.

they had no clue where they were heading but they figured this was there

shot at that unpaid vacation. some pobre gringos were sadded that their

gentrified oasis was getting washed away. they didn’t know what they were

going to do next. others prepared as prepared can be. hit the extra hydralic

switch on their lowriders that turned their impala into a hover boat. they

tried to catch as many humans as they could. as some in the crazed madness.

of the cityscape began to get zombiefied. but unlike the peliculas. all these

zombies really wanted to do was head towards the mcdonald’s. their craved

instincts turned them inside out. these hollywood zombies had it in their mind

that mickey deez french fries could preserve them past any holocaust. others

turned to the roaches. and began to pray to the roaches. to teach them.

“por favor cuckaracha!! save me!! teach me how to survive all of this i beg you”

a whole cult of cuckaracha altar began to emerge. they took out their crosses.

and put in place. make shift spaces para las cockroaches to come. in all the

madness.. mr ramirez the highschool english teacher began to convert those

that wanted to be free. for years he had been teaching the bible as literature.

calling it the greatest novel ever written. but at this juncture. he crawled to his

knees. and began to apologies to jesus. to all the writers of this massive text.

he denounced the english language. began speaking in tongues. at times

it was hebrew. at other moments arabic. at other moments latin. at other moments

simple spewing out random root words. hahuatl… but ofcourse his dominant tongue was

the most advanced and civilized futurized spanglish ever imaginable. it was pure

water and fire all at onc.e puro olllin. salva trucha salvesen its tiempo to ir nos

pasando la marketanismo y fuera. con la mentiratl! ometeotl que vivatl zapatl!!

all the while. in the madness. ramiro, seven years old sat a top.. soto and chavez. not running.

just shedding tears. for all his gente. he watched a top the king taco rooftop.

at the other end. at top the payless shoe source building. some vatos lokos

had taken over the building and were arming their uzis. all their military warfare

arms they had been tradingdrugs for years with the first police department.

ramiro didn’t worry about the bullets flying. as he had been praying for generations

before he entered this body. he simply sat there. crying. surround by a blue

and red halo of light.  that surrounded his whole being. and with every tear shed.

the sphere of light that surrounded his being growing. xotchil jaguar who was watching

ramiro from the other corner carrying her bee bee gun. all the while shooting the mickey

deez fries zombies in the back of the head. the mickey deez zombies would simply

scratch their heads every time they felt a bullet. they paused. and continued on their

way towards the mc donalds destination. some zombies run over by abuelas with

shopping carts as their only protection. slamming the harmless fry zombies. xotchitl

jaguar finally realized that anything inside that blue and red sphere was untouchable.

all the while. ramiro. crying for the people. and remembering all the times he had been

on tonantzin. millions of generations . back. llorando. crying. y ayudando la gente. helping