Once Josie laid the gun on the ground, she was instructed to move away from it. As she did so, the cops closed in with guns pointed directly at her. “You fuckin’ pussy,” Josie turned to me and said. The cops took the gun and proceeded to search and handcuff Josie. They searched Spanky, too. They questioned me about the incident while a paramedic cleaned and dressed my wounds. My mouth and nose were bloody, and my left eye was slightly swollen. What hurt most were my ribs whenever I took a breath. They decided to take me to the hospital for further treatment. Spanky and Josie were taken into custody along with the other Kings and Queens as I was led to the ambulance.
At the hospital the police continued to question me. I continued to say that I was OK and that nothing had happened. The cops became frustrated at my stubbornness and finally left me alone. My ribs were not broken, but they were badly bruised. I was wrapped in an ace bandage, given a prescription for pain medicine, and released.
Without hesitation I headed back to Spanky’s; my clothes were there. So was my car. I was scared, but I had to go there. Luckily, when I arrived there were still police around. I was able to get into my apartment without being harassed. Imelda came in as I picked up my things and stuffed them into plastic garbage bags. Spanky had been released after questioning, but he was still at the police station waiting to be picked up. Imelda helped me pick up my things without saying a word. “Wait here,” I told her, and went to put two plastic bags in the car. I went back inside and immediately began having sex with Imelda. My ribs hurt like crazy, but I was able to overcome the pain by fucking Imelda violently with the thought of avenging Spanky on my mind. “You’re hurting me,” Imelda said as I pulled her hair, fucking her from behind. I didn’t care, and actually pulled harder. She pulled away from me and turned around to tell me that I was hurting her. “I’m sorry,” I said as I turned her back around to continue what I was doing. Imelda finally complied with my desire. She positioned herself to receive me. I took advantage of her willingness and sodomized her. Imelda tried to pull away when she realized what I was doing but I pushed her flat on the floor, held on to her, and continued until she gave in and let me do what I wanted. “Are you happy doing that?” she asked. I didn’t answer. Happiness wasn’t my priority. Getting revenge on Spanky by doing what I wanted with his wife was what drove me. I felt an orgasm coming, so I got up and had it all over Imelda’s face. This was not about sex. This was about power. Then I got dressed, took the drugs that Josie had stashed, and left. No good-bye, no see you later. I didn’t look at Imelda. I didn’t even take the time to wash myself. I just left. I had no clue as to where I was going, but I felt content with the revenge I had enacted upon the Kings through Imelda.
Imelda was probably the only person left in the whole city I could turn to for any kind of help, yet I chose to use her as an avenue of self-preservation. I overlooked her feelings to recover my pride and my sense of manhood. I was a different kind of animal now, yet an animal nonetheless.
5 Cocaine Again
AS I DROVE away from Spanky’s house, several bottles were thrown at my car. The bottles missed their intended target, but their message was loud and clear. I could not, should not, ever set foot anywhere near the Latin Kings’ portion of Humboldt Park again. And I knew that I would have to watch my back every second of every day while I lived in Chicago.
The nine months or so I had spent back in Humboldt Park made it perfectly clear that I didn’t belong there. I’d gone from living a peaceful life of meaningful work and intellectual growth at the University of Chicago to almost being killed by my girlfriend. I knew I couldn’t return to the university, and was too embarrassed even to attempt it. My life was just as it had always been—one bad decision after another. I felt scared, lost, and hopeless.
My feelings of hopelessness got me thinking about my ex-lover, Loca. I hadn’t seen Loca since the day her son had been killed in Humboldt Park. She had stopped dealing in the park, and I thought maybe she had finally gotten out of the Latin King bullshit and was out on her own. With her on my mind, I drove north toward Kedzie and Lawrence, hoping to find her. I figured I could rekin dle our friendship, if not our romance, long enough to get a job and a new place to live. I didn’t even know if Loca still lived in the area, especially after sacrificing her son to the gangs, but I couldn’t think of any other options. (There were Kings on Kedzie and Lawrence, but I knew there was no way that news of what had happened between Spanky’s Kings and me could travel so fast. Besides, different Kings’ sections weren’t as united as they had once been.) It seemed likely that the Latin Kings of Kedzie and Lawrence would have a good laugh at Spanky’s expense, but do little about it. Luck seemed to be on my side that day. Not only did I manage to leave Humboldt Park with my life, I was also able to locate Loca. Although she didn’t live in the same place anymore, a King from Kedzie and Lawrence who hadn’t heard about my dishonor recognized me and pointed me in the direction of Loca’s new home. She now lived roughly half a block away from her previous residence.
As I parked my car and walked to Loca’s building, I started to recall the loving relationship we had once had. It was Loca who had inspired me and led me in my pursuit of education by helping me obtain a General Equivalency Diploma. She had also been instrumental in getting me out of doing jail time when I was arrested for possession of cocaine.
Although Loca had once been the only good thing in my life, she had also turned her back on me when I decided to quit the Kings and attend classes at the University of Chicago. When I started making new friends, she thought that meant I would abandon her for a college girl, and it destroyed our relationship. At the end of our relationship, she was the one having sex with another man while I slept on the sofa because I had nowhere else to go. I had held Loca’s dead son in my arms because she refused to leave the life of the Latin Kings and Queens Nation. And yet I now thought of her as my only hope.
Two guys and three girls were sitting on the steps of Loca’s building. A skinny, frail-looking, well-dressed, and jeweled girl asked me what I wanted. “I’m looking for Loca,” I told her. “She’s not here. ¿Qué quieres? (What do you want?)” she asked me. “Loca is my friend; I just want to see her,” I responded. “You look familiar,” the girl said. “What’s your name?” “Reymundo,” I replied. “Loca knows me by Lil Loco.” “So you’re Lil Loco. Loca has told me all about you. My name is Lilly,” she continued. “Loca is out right now, but you can wait for her here with us or in my apartment.”
Lilly spoke softly and with confidence. Her neck and fingers were covered in gold. She had a sweet smile and beautiful long hair. Her perfume intoxicated me, even while it competed with the smell of cigarettes.
Lilly led me into her first-floor apartment without introducing me to the others sitting there with her. Loca lived on the third floor. “Sit down. Do you want something to drink?” Lilly asked. “Yes, please,” I responded. Lilly walked toward the back of the apartment. I sat on a loveseat near the door facing the back of the apartment. Lilly’s apartment was neatly furnished and included an entertainment center that housed a television and stereo, living room and dining room sets, and a few pictures on the walls. The windows were covered in curtains that matched the earth-tone living room set, and the floors were hardwood. The apartment was very conservatively decorated and had a certain classiness that was missing from any other apartment I had ever been in before.
“I think you should know,” Lilly said as she walked up to me and handed me a beer, “that Loca is living with someone. He’s not a King brother or anything but he gets his respect from the nation.” “It’s cool. I just need a favor from her,” I told her. Lilly asked me about my wounds. She thought that maybe I had gotten jumped by Disciples or Cobras. I let her think that was the case, but I knew it was only a matter of time before she heard the truth.
“Loca’s told me a lot about you. You’re a pretty crazy character,” Lilly said. She went into a room on the right side of the apartment and came back out wit
h a shoebox cover in her hand. Lilly sat down next to me and handed it to me. It contained about a dime of marijuana, a pack of rolling papers, and a small round mirror with a small mound of cocaine, a razor blade, and a small straw. Lilly took the mirror and began making lines of cocaine with the razor blade. I started filtering the seeds away from the marijuana and began to roll a joint. “Let me put some of this on it,” Lilly said, referring to the cocaine. I held up the rolling paper filled with marijuana just above the mirror so that Lilly could put the cocaine in it. Then I finished rolling it. Lilly made four lines out of the remaining cocaine. She snorted two of them and then handed me the mirror. “Here, let me have the joint,” Lilly said as I took the mirror from her. She took the joint and walked to the living room table where she had a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She came back and sat next to me, put the whole joint in her mouth, and turned it in a circular motion as she pulled it slowly out of her mouth. “You do that very well,” I told her. “Much better than you think,” Lilly said with a wicked smile on her face but without making eye contact with me.
Lilly began to heat up the joint with the lighter. The wetness from having put it in her mouth kept the paper from burning, while the heat from the lighter melted the cocaine on the marijuana for easier smoking. I stared at the cocaine on the mirror, having second thoughts about whether I should do it or not. I had not done cocaine for about a year and half, and I was afraid I’d get hooked on it again. Lilly lit up the cocaine-laced joint and reached for me, saying, “Come here, let me give you a shotgun.” She put her hand gently on the back of my neck and pulled me toward her while she inserted the lit side of the joint into her mouth and held it with her lips. Lilly blew the smoke into my mouth and nose. I sucked it all in and held it in my lungs as long as I possibly could. Lilly pulled the joint out of her mouth and continued to smoke it.
The cocaine-laced joint had a distinct taste. It was kind of mellow and seemed to allow me to take more smoke into my lungs without gagging and gasping for air. Within minutes I felt a slight numbness around my lips. After taking several hits from the joint and eliminating my worry, I snorted the two lines of cocaine and handed the mirror back to Lilly. “¿Quieres más? Esperame (Do you want more? Wait for me),” Lilly said as she got up and walked outside. She said something to her friends on the front steps, then came back inside. I finished the beer she gave me and helped myself to one of her cigarettes.
“Traite eso y vente (Bring that with you and come on),” Lilly said when she came back in and headed toward the room where she had gotten the marijuana and cocaine. I followed. She waited for me to enter and then closed the door behind me. It was her bedroom. Lilly had a huge canopy bed with a nightstand on the left side and a dresser with a large mirror directly across from the foot of the bed. The bed was made up with fancy ruffled pillows and a comforter with a flower pattern. There was nothing in that room, or in Lilly’s entire apartment, indicating she was involved with the Latin Kings.
“Sientate (Sit down),” Lilly said, patting her bed. I sat at the foot of the bed and watched her go into a closet directly on the right side of the bed. I began to roll another joint and pictured myself having sex with Lilly on her giant bed. Lilly came out of the closet holding a metal tackle box that had a plastic sandwich bag full of marijuana on top of it. “Do you like my bed?” Lilly asked. “Only if I can sleep on it,” I responded. Lilly laughed and mentioned that Loca had told her I was a womanizer. I didn’t comment and just smiled shyly as I pushed my way up her bed and against the pillows with a joint in my hand. Lilly sat down facing me and opened the metal box. From the box she pulled out about half an ounce of cocaine and used a teaspoon to shovel a good amount of it onto the mirror. She put the cocaine back in the metal box, set it under the bed, and began to work through the cocaine on the mirror with the razor blade. I lit up the joint I had, grabbed the bag of marijuana, and began removing the seeds. “The ashtray is over there,” Lilly said, pointing to the nightstand. I got the ashtray, took another puff of the joint, and passed it to Lilly. “You go ahead,” Lilly said, “I only like it with perico (cocaine).”
I prepared another joint and laced the marijuana with cocaine. Lilly asked me to prepare two more joints the same way. As I did what she asked, Lilly prepared the first one by wetting it in her mouth and then heating it up with the lighter to melt the cocaine. When I was done, Lilly set the marijuana under the bed and handed me the mirror and straw so that I could snort the several lines of cocaine she had prepared. While I snorted, Lilly lit up the cocaine-laced joint. She got up and walked over to a boom box that sat on the dresser and played an Eddie Santiago CD. Eddie Santiago was very well known for his romantic salsa tunes, and the CD Lilly played was one of his classics. I asked if I could take a shower. I sensed there would be something more than just getting high between Lilly and me. Lilly led me to the bathroom and showed me where the soap, shampoo, and towels were. As she left the bathroom she said to make sure and call her if there was a spot I couldn’t reach.
I showered and returned to Lilly’s room with only my pants on. Lilly was sitting on the bed but got up when I came in. She asked me to sit down as she got the mirror with cocaine on it and a joint. Lilly handed me the mirror as she sat next to me and asked me to snort some cocaine as she lit up the joint. I snorted a line of cocaine into each nostril, then handed her the mirror. Lilly in turn handed me the joint. That went on until two more joints were gone, along with the cocaine. While we got high I flirted sexually with Lilly. She did the same with me. Once the drugs were gone we immediately started kissing.
Lilly pushed me back against the pillows in a sitting position and sat on me. We kissed wildly and passionately. The marijuana and cocaine served as a pain reliever for my sore ribs. I worked my hands under her blouse and pushed her bra above her breasts so I could fondle them. Then there was a knock at the door. Lilly tried to get up to answer it while I buried my head under her blouse. She said something I couldn’t make out and began to get up. I held her tightly, pulled her toward me, and told her not to go. Lilly pulled my head out from under her blouse and said, “Llegó Loca (Loca arrived).” I let Lilly go and started fixing myself up. I thought about what Loca would think when I walked out of the room with Lilly. But I suddenly didn’t care. I quickly devised another plan; now my new goal was to live with Lilly.
“Spanky’s boys fucked you up pretty good, huh,” Loca said when she saw me. “You heard about that?” I responded. “I can’t believe you let yourself get caught up with that shit,” Loca said. “Especialmente con Spanky después que te ratió (Especially with Spanky after he ratted on you),” Loca continued. I went into the living room and sat on the loveseat. Loca sat on the sofa to the right of me, and there was silence for what seemed like an eternity. “How have you been?” I finally asked Loca. “Doing good,” she said. “My kid is in Puerto Rico with mami (mom),” Loca told me. “¿Para que me buscas? (Why are you looking for me?)” Loca asked. “I need a place to stay,” I told her. “Ya encontrastes adonde quedarte (You already found where to stay),” Loca replied as she looked at Lilly. “You can stay here,” Lilly said. Loca got up and said she had to go. She had things to do, but would come back later that evening so that we could talk. “I’ll be here,” I said as I walked Loca outside. Loca went upstairs without saying another word or looking my way. I went back inside Lilly’s apartment, found her in the kitchen, and led her back into the bedroom.
Loca didn’t come back to talk to me that day after all. Lilly and I spent all night getting high and having sex. Just like that, I was Lilly’s official live-in boyfriend. Just like that, I was addicted to cocaine again. I quickly learned that Lilly was Loca’s mule. Picking up and delivering packages of cocaine into prisons and to street vendors was her main source of income. As a mule, Lilly enjoyed the respect and protection of the Latin Kings without actually being a member of the Queens. In return, she put her freedom in danger and often degraded herself by carrying drugs past prison security guards i
nside her vagina to get past security checkpoints.
Lilly also received a monthly check from the Social Security Administration for a learning disability she supposedly had. I didn’t notice the disability; Lilly seemed pretty smart to me. The work she did for Loca gave her a steady supply of cocaine, which she was also addicted to. Lilly helped me become hooked on cocaine-laced joints, too.
My first three days at Lilly’s were spent in her bedroom, naked. I only came out to use the bathroom or to take a shower. Lilly told me all about herself in between our sessions of sexual activity. Lilly had been getting high since she was fourteen. It was her mother who introduced her to drugs, alcohol, and sex. Lilly’s mother was a bartender who started taking her to the bar where she worked after her husband left her. Her mother thought that it was the best way for Lilly to learn about the “real” world. When men began to proposition Lilly, her mother told her that it would be better to be with an older responsible man than with a little boy who couldn’t take care of her. At the age of fourteen, Lilly was having sex with men over twice her age. She became more of her mother’s double-dating partner than her daughter.
At the age of eighteen, Lilly became pregnant and had a miscarriage. The miscarriage left her unable to ever have kids. While she was still eighteen, her mother left for Puerto Rico and left Lilly in the hands of her then forty-year-old boyfriend. The man was insanely jealous and constantly beat her. After two years she left him for a guy closer to her age. Unfortunately, that only got her someone younger to beat her up. This new boyfriend was a Latin King nicknamed Psycho. His name explained his personality. She couldn’t get away from him even when she tried. That is, until he butchered his uncle over ten dollars and was sentenced to life in jail. Lilly went to the penitentiary to deliver drugs, but never to see him. He knew this and swore to kill her if he ever got out. Now it was my turn to be Lilly’s boyfriend.
Once a King, Always a King: The Unmaking of a Latin King Page 4
