Bad Country: A Novel by CB McKenzie Page B

the cooler strapped on the seat behind him, popped the top and took a long swig.
    Just dropped by to see how your mother was, Rodeo said.
    Mama had a stroke herself a few months ago. Took her medicine wrong and the doctor said that would be the last time she did that and if she didn’t straighten up and fly right from now on she wouldn’t last the year out. Tomas shook his head. But she still eats fry bread and carne all day, ice cream sandwiches all night and fights like a cat with anybody that tries to take care of her. She won’t let nobody help her, so I quit trying to help her. It’s too much stress.
    Where’s your wheelchair at? Rodeo asked.
    Got a DUI and Social Services took it back, Tomas said.
    You got a DUI in an electric wheelchair?
    That’s what I get for living next to the police station.
    Where’d you get the lawn mower?
    It’s a garden tractor. Henry got it for me at the Salivating Army where he works at now.
    Henry’s out? Rodeo was asking about the twin of Tomas, an inept but well known local criminal.
    He got out of Florence a few months ago but he don’t do nothing but just go to work every day at the SA Outpost down on Sixth and then he rides a dumbass bicycle all the way out to Holy Hope on Oracle to visit his Miguel, Tomas said. He’s lost forty pounds riding that stupid bicycle to the cemetery every day. But he don’t have nothing else to do except to visit his shot-dead son.
    Miguelito’s been passed now, what, almost a year? asked Rodeo.
    A year in a couple of weeks, Tomas said. You were living with Miss TaTas over here when it happened, so you remember it good don’t you? Miguelito’s gangbangers spray-painted the whole ’hood after his funeral. If Mama hadn’t come out of the house and Eryn Hage hadn’t fired off her shotgun a few times they would have graffitied every house on the block that buncha greaser beaner cholo pachuco assholes.
    Henry still dealing?
    That last time was Strike Two for Henry, Tomas said. And you remember he was in when his kid got popped and that hit him hard. So now he just spends all day going to the cemetery being the good dad to Miguelito he should have been when the kid was alive. Henry’s a great dad now that his boy is dead. It’s a sad story, brother. Another sad tale in the annals of Denizens of Tuxson Arizona. We’re just snake bit, that’s what it is. Tomas pulled on his beer and belched loudly. I’m glad I’m not in that shit anymore myself. Tomas held up his beer can. Legal beagle, that’s me. Beeraholico no problemo.
    Unless you get caught DUI in your electric wheelchair, Rodeo said.
    There is that, thanks to PUTAs—Police-Upchucks-of-Tuxson-Arizona.
    Tomas finished the beer, crushed the can, dropped it on the ground and again reached back to snag another.
    You need something, brother? he asked. You’re making me nervous.
    You know the Rochas? asked Rodeo. Over near Casino del Sol?
    Yeah, I know them Rochas, Tomas said. I went to school with one of them at Tucson High back in the day before it was a magnet school for yuppy shitheads. The one my age his name was Alonzo. He married some pretty fat chick who can’t keep her pussy to herself and he’s still out there in that Res ’hood near the Casino. His kid got killed a little while ago too. Little guera girl got hit-n-run. Some asshole ran over a blond child and runned away, can you believe it? And Alonzo’s other kid was shot off the Starr Pass Road bridge in a drive-by. Tomas shook his head again. Fucking degenerates around these days, Rodeo. No law or order anywhere. I blame the Colonialists.
    You know any of the rest of the Rochas besides Alonzo?
    Yeah, I know one big asshole for sure. Tomas slurped his warm beer. This Alonzo he’s got a cousin who’s a tribal cop. Name of “Monjano,” first name Carlos but they call that one “Caps”’cause he threatens to put a cap in everybody. Used to be a South Tuxson gangbanger and now he’s a Tribe cop if you can believe it.