“Rick!” Conman Extraordinaire!!! “We’re Goin’ to Mexico… Part 1

“Rick?! Ahhh Man…He was the Best Salesman I ever met. No one was better than that Guy. If you see that Bastard you tell him he owes me $100 bucks. The Pendejo blew it on The Track years ago and hasn’t paid me back since.”

Pedro “Call Me Pete” Salazar, Romano Chevrolet, San Jose, California

 

Rick takes us to Mexico and my brother and I meet a mysterious woman who calls herself “Doris Day.”

The lights had been turned off at the former Bucklin residence now called Che Malbeck for about an hour. When they blazed back on without warning.
“Boys wake up. Rick is taking us to Mexico!”
What?!!
My brother and I rubbed our eyes in annoyance. It had already been a long day. And now this – an out of the blue, bizarre announcement. And after bedtime too, For Chissakes!
But living with Rick had proven to us to expect the unexpected. 
My Mom had married Rick six months ago and since that time our lives had been anything but “normal.”
Mexico? Really? Now?
Mom was already rushing around the house packing a small suitcase. Rick was already outside smoking a cigarette, warming up the silver 1969 Cadillac Eldorado.
As I peeled off my sweaty pajamas, I was given a brown paper bag and told to put any essentials in it. Meaning toothpaste, toothbrush, a couple of pairs of underwear, jeans and a shirt all went into the bag.
As I was packing I looked at my wall that had my latest Monster Movie posters on it. There, carefully tacked into the wall were two very large posters of Dracula and the Wolfman.
They seemed to be scowling at me as if to say “Don’t Do It. “You’re gonna regret it ”  kinda faces. But what did Monsters know anyway? It’s not like they were known to be specialists in good times.
It was a little past midnight when we were bundled in the car, packed and ready to go.
It was late for us kids so after an hour or so we fell asleep in the warm car cabin. The Cadillac’s leather seats were actually more comfortable than our beds.
So I can’t tell ya too much about the car trip, as I would wake up and fall quickly back asleep. 
Rick smoked Salem cigarettes and drank coffee Mom had made. They talked quietly while Rick drove and my mother fiddled with the radio.
Seems like we were heading for a small hotel located in “Enchilada?” or “Ensenada?”  Mexico.
Personally, I could have cared less where we headed as long it was away from crummy school for a few days. 
And besides, it was Mexico! Home of spicy food, pinatas, Mariachis, and other cool stuff. Who cared if the city had a funny name that sounded like Mexican food?
By the time I awoke, we were already hitting the city of San Diego. Tijuana and the Mexican border would be upon us shortly and I was getting excited. Oh boy, I couldn’t wait 
By the time we got to the border, I was practically jumping up and down on my seat with excitement.
So, You can imagine my surprise as we hit Tijuana. It was nothing like I could have ever imagined. 
The border itself looked like a whole bunch of toll booths lined up with guards stopping cars that were entering or exiting Mexico.
I guess Rick’s Caddy had a little prestige as we were just waved on through by a man wearing a khaki uniform who looked extremely bored.
On the other side of the border, there were hundreds of Hispanics all milling around trying to sell visitors stuff.
They all looked sad and desperate.There was fruit, flower, novelty, toys, doll, dog, cat, tobacco, candy, meat, poultry (butchered and alive), dish, ashtray, and even religious icon sellers.
I’ll never forget seeing this old wiry looking guy wearing a large sombrero, his face was creased with dirt that highlighted the wrinkles in his face. He was carrying a huge crucifix with a gory crucified Jesus on it. He carried it from car to car trying to get tourists to buy it.
To my young 12-year-old eyes this was quite a shock. I had never seen deprivation like this before. You have to remember that for most of my life I had been raised in California suburbia and to be honest this kind of abject poverty was beyond my comprehension. Mexico certainly wasn’t turning out to be The Land of Oz I had anticipated.
Fortunately, we passed by this depressing site pretty quickly and were on our way to “Ensenada.” I finally got the correct pronunciation of the city name out of Rick as we trucked along.
Well, if the border was shocking the housing was even more depressing as we made our way.
I saw what appeared to be people’s homes but to me, they looked like shacks that had been knocked together with a few nails, tin and cardboard. I remember thinking that if a good gust of wind ever came along – these poor people would be out in the cold – Pronto!
Finally, we reached the hotel in Ensenada. The rooms proved to be rustic with Mexican design – lots of carved beams in the ceiling, big comfy beds and a water pitcher on several tables. I was told to drink that water only. Drinking out of the tap would make me sick.
It was late in the afternoon so we all decided to take a “Siesta” as we were all pretty beat from the drive.
Hours later refreshed from our nap we ate dinner at the Hotel Restaurant. The food was pretty good although it tasted nothing like the stuff I’d get at Taco Bell back home.
Rick was really excited about going to see the horse races the next day at the “Caliente” race track the next day. So that was pretty much the topic of conversation at the dinner table.
The restaurant didn’t serve bread with dinner – which I thought was kind of odd – so I munched on a flour tortilla with butter like a Gringo listening to Rick and Mom talk about the Track and about Horses throughout the meal.
Going to see Horse Races sounded very grown-up and kinda cool. But I was more enthused about blowing the ten bucks Mom had given me to go “Shopping” the next day.
Yeah, those two fives were burning a hole in my pocket alright and I couldn’t wait to spend them on something really Cool.

End of Part 1

To be continued…