Read Online The Rampage of Ryan O'Hara by James R. Pera - Free Book Online
Authors: James R. Pera
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needing a hot meal or a place to crash for the night, could always count on Señora Mendora to have a pot of beans and fresh tortillas waiting for them should they drop in unexpectedly. The generosity and giving nature of the Mendoras reflected their Latino culture.
“Mi casa es su casa”
was the way people were greeted by Orlando and Inez, no matter what their standing in the community. People in need could always depend on
la familia
Mendora.
Orlando worked as a janitor in a downtown high-rise. He was known as the alcalde of Lower Twenty-Fourth Street and was always accompanied by four or five of his amigos when making the rounds of the many bars and restaurants that made his neighborhood, to the east of Mission Street, the hub of social interaction in the barrio.
The elder Mendora mediated local problems, represented his neighbors at police community-relations meetings, and even ventured to city hall on occasion to discuss problems within the Latino community.
Orlando and Inez were not happy when their only child, Pablo, joined Los Hermanos Bandidos. They tried to reason with him. Señor Mendora believed the police would protect him, but Pablo’s reasoning was that the cops couldn’t be everywhere. And besides, they hadn’t done him any good when those bastards from the Army Street projects had almost killed him.
No, he wanted protection and he would have it under the umbrella of Los Hermanos Bandidos. Besides, hehad the added assurance that those responsible for his beating would be harshly dealt with if he became one of them, and he wanted to see the bastards pay.
When he was brought into the gang, the first thing that its president, Rigoberto “The Blade” Uribe, told him was, “Now you’re one of us, ESE. We’re gonna find
los putos
Negros who jumped you and we’re gonna show them what happens to brothas who mess with Chicanos.”
It didn’t take long for Rigoberto’s promise to play out. On a Friday night about a week and a half after Pablo joined, he and a couple of older gang members, Estefan Escobar and Ramon Encinias, were summoned to the gang’s hangout on Folsom Street.
Rigoberto had information from one of his moles in the projects that two of the guys who had jumped Pablo were hanging out in Garfield Square Park, drinking and smoking dope. According to the informant—who was spotted some free grass for the information—they were with a couple of girls.
“We’re gonna go over and slice them up in front of their women. We’re gonna send a message. Any black muthafucka who messes with us is goin’ down. We’re gonna have a little brown-on-black race war. When we’re done with those muthafuckin’
mayates
, they gonna know that this is our turf and that they best stay in that fuckin’ zoo they call a housing project. You with me,
hermanos
?”
“Yeah, we’re with ya, homes. Let’s do it.”
“Good. Estefan, I want you and Ramon to round up the rest of your crews and position them around the park. Put a few over on Treat Street and some on Harrison. Put the rest on Twenty-Fifth and Twenty-Sixth. Tell them not to make themselves too obvious. Iwant the kid here to have some fun. But if things start going south, I want your guys to move in and cover his back,
comprenden
?”
“
Comprendemos
, jefe.
Cuando
?”
“Yesterday,” Rigoberto replied.
Within half an hour, Rigoberto and his two captains had their gang dispersed inconspicuously around the park. Rigoberto looked at Pablo and asked, “You ready to rumble, little one?”
“Yeah, Blade, let’s do it.”
Rigoberto handed a switchblade to the young gang member and said, “No,
you
do it.
Vamanos
.”
Rigoberto, Estefan, Ramon, and Pablo entered the park and split up into the shadows. Pablo’s mouth was dry and he was shaking. His heart pounded against the inside of his chest as if it were trying to bust out of his body. He hoped his fear didn’t show. This was his initiation into the gang, and what better way to prove
“Mi casa es su casa”
was the way people were greeted by Orlando and Inez, no matter what their standing in the community. People in need could always depend on
la familia
Mendora.
Orlando worked as a janitor in a downtown high-rise. He was known as the alcalde of Lower Twenty-Fourth Street and was always accompanied by four or five of his amigos when making the rounds of the many bars and restaurants that made his neighborhood, to the east of Mission Street, the hub of social interaction in the barrio.
The elder Mendora mediated local problems, represented his neighbors at police community-relations meetings, and even ventured to city hall on occasion to discuss problems within the Latino community.
Orlando and Inez were not happy when their only child, Pablo, joined Los Hermanos Bandidos. They tried to reason with him. Señor Mendora believed the police would protect him, but Pablo’s reasoning was that the cops couldn’t be everywhere. And besides, they hadn’t done him any good when those bastards from the Army Street projects had almost killed him.
No, he wanted protection and he would have it under the umbrella of Los Hermanos Bandidos. Besides, hehad the added assurance that those responsible for his beating would be harshly dealt with if he became one of them, and he wanted to see the bastards pay.
When he was brought into the gang, the first thing that its president, Rigoberto “The Blade” Uribe, told him was, “Now you’re one of us, ESE. We’re gonna find
los putos
Negros who jumped you and we’re gonna show them what happens to brothas who mess with Chicanos.”
It didn’t take long for Rigoberto’s promise to play out. On a Friday night about a week and a half after Pablo joined, he and a couple of older gang members, Estefan Escobar and Ramon Encinias, were summoned to the gang’s hangout on Folsom Street.
Rigoberto had information from one of his moles in the projects that two of the guys who had jumped Pablo were hanging out in Garfield Square Park, drinking and smoking dope. According to the informant—who was spotted some free grass for the information—they were with a couple of girls.
“We’re gonna go over and slice them up in front of their women. We’re gonna send a message. Any black muthafucka who messes with us is goin’ down. We’re gonna have a little brown-on-black race war. When we’re done with those muthafuckin’
mayates
, they gonna know that this is our turf and that they best stay in that fuckin’ zoo they call a housing project. You with me,
hermanos
?”
“Yeah, we’re with ya, homes. Let’s do it.”
“Good. Estefan, I want you and Ramon to round up the rest of your crews and position them around the park. Put a few over on Treat Street and some on Harrison. Put the rest on Twenty-Fifth and Twenty-Sixth. Tell them not to make themselves too obvious. Iwant the kid here to have some fun. But if things start going south, I want your guys to move in and cover his back,
comprenden
?”
“
Comprendemos
, jefe.
Cuando
?”
“Yesterday,” Rigoberto replied.
Within half an hour, Rigoberto and his two captains had their gang dispersed inconspicuously around the park. Rigoberto looked at Pablo and asked, “You ready to rumble, little one?”
“Yeah, Blade, let’s do it.”
Rigoberto handed a switchblade to the young gang member and said, “No,
you
do it.
Vamanos
.”
Rigoberto, Estefan, Ramon, and Pablo entered the park and split up into the shadows. Pablo’s mouth was dry and he was shaking. His heart pounded against the inside of his chest as if it were trying to bust out of his body. He hoped his fear didn’t show. This was his initiation into the gang, and what better way to prove
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