The Year of Santa Ana

Episode Three: “The Caca Hits the Fan”

The doorknob keeps turning. A nasally white man’s voice comes from the other side. There’s a female voice too. The door finally swings open and Memo ducks behind Oscar Fuentes. Oscar raises his pistol and stares down the three Caucasians stepping into the condo. The first man is in sales pitch mode: “You’re going to love this entryway — it goes right into the living roo — ” He turns and sees Oscar’s massive tattooed arms pointing a gun straight at him and his two clients.

“Oh my god,” the woman screams, “it’s a gun, he’s got a gun!!!”

“JESUS!!!” the husband yells. “What is this!”

They back toward the door, but it’s swung shut behind them. The real estate agent turns to Oscar. “Listen,” he says, shaking “I don’t know who you are, but…” He chokes under Oscar’s gaze.

“What I wanna know is who the hell are you?” Oscar says. “And these two white-ass clowns, what are they doing here?”

“Listen, we don’t want any trouble, so, I mean, we’ll go, we’ll just go and get out of your way.” He tries opening the door, but Oscar raises his pistol higher and steps closer.

“You ain’t going nowheres till I find out what the hell is goin’ on.”