Boy was in the middle of a nightmare where he’d overslept and the raitero had come and gone. Left with no other option, he took off running after the raite, which came in the form of a 1974 Ford pickup with a tarp roof over its cargo box. He came to the verge of grabbing the tail gate, but somehow it stayed just out of reach. The Southside disappeared in the background, and the chase continued onto the highway. The sun was rising. Boy’s outstretched hands were sweating. The sun had risen to high noon. Then suddenly it set behind the horizon. Complete darkness enveloped him, but he could hear the Ford racing on the highway. This peaked his fright and woke him up. At that point, he noticed that his alarm clock was ringing.
It was 5 am. He was sweating, and his heart was racing.
“De aquellas. I have an hour to get ready,” Boy told himself.
He put on his work clothes, made himself a fried egg and tortilla sandwich, packed two tamales wrapped in flour tortillas for lunch, and went outside to await the raite.
He was still early. The raite wouldn’t come for another 30 minutes. Noting this, he went back into his parent’s home, warmed up a pot of coffee from the day before and poured it into a glass and drank it rapidly. Then he went back outside.
Seconds later, nature called. He had to go to the rest room. Figuring he was still early, he went back inside.
He’d just unzipped when he heard a the raitero’s honk.
Boy zipped back up and, although greatly burdened, rushed to get back outside.
When he was almost at the door, a second honk blared out.
Boy rushed out, but it was too late. The raitero released the clutch and sped off.
“Just two honks and big second gear,” Boy recited to himself the raitero’s warning.
He could see the tailgate of the truck, but he didn’t dare chase it. He knew how it would end.
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