Galo was feeling the weight of the beer in his belly and the heat of the sun on the roof of the car. How nice would it be to take a siesta right now, he thought. He could dream of the money waiting for him in Nogales for the drug run. Just outside of Hermosillo, he sped past a horse drawn wagon, only to see that he was heading for a herd of goats crossing the road. He steered left and brought his foot down hard on the brake. The car skidded off the road, and Galo watched helplessly as a wide tree ahead grew wider. He pressed hard against the car floor, braced for the collision, but the car stopped suddenly, lifting him out of the seat. Galo’s head hit the windshield and he was out.
“I’m a very trusting hombre,” the fat police captain grinned through his bushy black moustache “I’ll let you go to deliver your car. It’s waiting for you outside. I urge you to get out of this city as fast as you can, or I’ll lock you up for speeding and reckless driving. Do you understand? I have your wallet, and suggest you never come back to Hermosilla again.” What Galo understood was that the captain had the drugs, and he had an explanation to make to the kingpin waiting for them.
Galo never liked Nogales, and was glad he was going back to Culiacan, the town of his birth. Two men dragged him out of the house to a wooded area in the rear. When one started to put duct tape over his mouth, Galo told him to wait a minute. He had something to say.
“Don’t ask me to get you a priest, amigo, I can’t do that,” the man with the duct tape said, as the other man returned with a large black plastic bag and a white towel.
“It’s not that,” Galo said. “I just want you guys to know that I understand. I screwed up and caused you some problems. When someone screws you, you’ve got every right to get even. I had mucho fun on the ride up here, but I’ll be happy to get home.”
The two men looked at each other and shook their heads in wonder at this little fool. One taped his mouth and eyes, and the other threw the towel over his head and forced him to his knees. The last thing Galo felt was hard metal pressed against the back of his head. He was going home in the trunk of a car.