cops and liberals

It was a hot day in the city, I hadn’t been out of the house in a while and it all seemed so alive and far. Carlos was waiting outside of his office; he had settled his law practice in a small neighborhood, a world away from the court scene, it felt real every time I dropped by. His office had stacks of books all over, full of law books, self-help crap of which he had always had a particular fondness for, and history books that he read constantly. He always got caught up in in things, I remember when we were 15, he took some courses from the Dale Carnegie Foundation, I guess it’s still called that? And he would go on and on for hours, about how it was life changing. Only to get hooked on the works of a local economist whose doomsday prediction would surely be considered ominous today, but were comedy fodder back then. 

So we were driving around looking for a parking space, it was the lunch rush hour, and the small two lane streets of the city only allowed parking on one side of the street. My car itself is an old Chevrolet, silver sedan, comfortable for long drives to the beach, and not very good for any trips to the Sierra as I had to learn on my own. The leather seats showed some wear around the corners, but I took care of them and they still looked young.  

Carlos was always a little flighty, but I would always fondly remember our conversations about politics and books. His work kept him pretty much free, but I didn’t have a chance to hang out and just talk like when we were all in college. We wanted something healthy, so I picked a barbecue place. It was also cheap, that was also a pretty big consideration. They served this delicious salsa, a mix of herbs and cheese, with a little olive oil. The best part was really the meats, I once dated this girl, and she was a vegan; really dragged me into that hell. So when we broke up I spent 2 whole weeks eating pecho de paloma, a particularly delicious slab of beef, thin, but with a thick strip of juicy fat. 

We’d gone around the block twice now, so by the third try I took the longer way around. Back that way the streets opened up, with splitting lanes separated by “parterres” covered in green grass and tall palm trees. Those were taller than light posts; it had been a minor scandal when they were imported for a hefty over price, instead of say, Salinas’s palm trees only a few hours’ drive away. There a small “batida” was taking place; a few cops were checking out the cars, I guess looking for guns and such. They waved us and I drove towards the right lane between the cones. Carlos started to sweat, and his hands balled up into fists. 

License and registration please, the cop said in a very cordial voice. Good afternoon officer, here you go, was my answer. All the while Carlos kept quiet, then the cop asked; could you please open the trunk sir? As I was about to oblige, the cop walked to the back of the car, and Carlos grabbed my arm and said: don’t let him open it alone, you do it. It was a strange request, well not really for him, so I did it.

I turned off the car, opened the door and walked after the officer. I found it odd that Carlos would freak out. I had heard stories about people who had been stopped by cops and bad stuff had happened. There was a pretty known story about a politician who had been stopped by cops, he was a big part of the opposition to the government at the time. The man ended up in jail on drug possession charges. He lives in Panama now. And there was the story of two teenage brothers who disappeared after a supposedly routine stop. Maybe he was afraid of all that, but I didn’t have those kinds of enemies. 

 But him? He was always a loose cannon, and had been a very vocal opponent of the city’s bar association. He eventually managed to get the association’s president removed. That’s when he moved his office. For a few months he was always looking behind his back and refused to visit old places we used to hang out at. Now he was making me nervous. I dropped my keys and stopped to pick them up. The cops did not seem impatient and I think one of them mumbled something but I didn’t understand him. Then I started to look at his fellow officers, and their eyes were all fixed on me. And I finally got to the back of the car. I put my key in the lock and turned the key. 

I opened the trunk and after checking my toolbox and my briefcase, the officer just waved me off, without even a goodbye.