Eleven

Daniel was sitting under El Pino, a large pine tree that sits on top of a hill on Folsom, right where it crosses Indiana. Indiana is the street that divides city and county, so at some stretches of it, like here for example, it is nothing but a strip of undeveloped land. Like in neighborhoods all over the world, an undeveloped lot just becomes a short cut between point A an B. El Pino can be seen for at least two miles from the flat lands around it.

Daniel was killing time on a barrier that was built to keep cars out. He was looking down at the Evergreen Cemetery thinking of his frinedns and wondering when his turn would come. He was looking over El Mercado where he was about to meet someone in a few minutes to make an exchange.

He was clean shaved and showered, wearing a new pair of Dickie’s, Chuck’s and signature white T shirt. This is the soldier outfit of his day.

He was contemplating his next move. It would come from a little brown bag he had in his hands weighing about 16 ounces. He was going to sell it in a few minutes. He was just killing time with a Camel smoke.

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I came up Rowan and made a left on Folsom to kill time. I wasn’t ready to go back home and start explaining to my grandma that I had lost my job. It was too painful. I felt like i had a blow fish stuck in my throat. I saw Daniel and wondered if he would still say hi to me. After all, I had probably walked by him more that 100 times in my life on the block and never met eyes with him. I was surprised that he actually looked pleased to see me.

“What’s up carnal?,” he said. That word always sounded so cool to me. I don’t know where it came from but it’s slang for brother. I had heard other people say it all my life but had never been addressed that way myself. I have to admit I dug it.

“Hey Daniel,” he stayed silent, “what’s up?”

We shook hands the classic chicano handshake. Fingers under the other’s palm, fingers over the other’s thumb, then fingers clasp and you end with a fist pound. I later learned the meaning of that handshake. I learned it might predate the soldiers that fought with Pancho Villa, nicknamed “cholos.” It is a fraternal handshake that means, I am not above you my brother, I am not beneath you my brother, I am right here with you my brother.

We kind of stood there for a few seconds like two cars at a four way stop wondering whose turn it is to go next. I was about to say good bye when he spoke.

“Let’s go get some food,” he said looking at his watch.

Then he chucked his cigarette butt and handed me a brown bag.

“Hold this,” he said.

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