Cinco de mayo

Mark stood on the corner at the edge of Olvera Street and watched the Cinco de Mayo celebration. The deep history of this section of Los Angeles brought many Hispanics, and visitors to enjoy the party.

As one of the officers on duty, Mark kept a watchful eye on the crowds for pickpockets and any other criminals that would take advantage of the situation. He had already picked up a couple of young men trying to sell marijuana.

“Hey man, let us go. Chu one of us, man, jus’ look the other way. We weel be gone fast.” One of men whined. Mark looked at him and grinned

“I might have done that, but I am not ‘one of you.’ So move it.” He took them to the van that was parked on the side street and let the officers cuff and stow them. He headed back to his post.

As the afternoon wore on the street filled with so many people it was like Mardi gras. He couldn’t see across to his partner. They talked on the monitors, attached to their shoulders, to keep posted.

While Mark watched, thoughts raced through his mind. He was born in the USA. He was an American citizen and wanted to serve his country. While he had roots way back in foreign lands, this was his home and he loved it. He didn’t want to be anywhere else. The celebration of this Mexican day of Liberty rubbed him the wrong way. Other countries didn’t look kindly to Americans celebrating July 5th in their country. In fact most other countries would not allow big gatherings like this.

If they wanted to celebrate the fact Mexico won their freedom from Spain, go back to Mexico and make it a better place to live. That was what the United States did and now everyone wanted to come here.

He headed toward the main entrance of Olvera Street. It was the oldest street and considered to be the beginning of Los Angeles. California.

A group of men dressed in mock militia costume of that era marched toward the entrance. Everyone parted to let them through waving Mexican flags in their honor. Mark ground his teeth until they hurt. He did not see one USA flag in anyone’s hand.

The party went on into the afternoon and the crowd got bigger and noisier. He was busy arresting the trouble makers, the drunks and the con men. Petty larceny was at a high. They had used six paddy wagons already. The jails were going to be full tonight.

“Hey officer!” Mark turned to see a group of slightly intoxicated females leaning on each other. “Hey you’re cute. Can we take a picture with you?”

He was going to refuse but shrugged, “Why not ladies.”

They took turns and then someone from the crowd offered to take one of all the girls with him.

“You someone famous?” His partner yelled at him from a few feet away.

“Yea, I’m Eric Estrada, man.” Mark sneered.

“You ARE?” The girls screamed and began hugging him.

“No I’m not! Get off me! That was a joke.” He managed to break away from the girls while they compared their camera shots.

“That was uncalled for.” Paul, the other officer admonished.

“I was joking.”

Paul shrugged. “We are off duty in a few minutes. Let’s go check on our replacements.”

“You go on, I’m going to check out the entrance once more.” Mark headed to the main area. He pulled out his phone and punched a few buttons and then the send button.

He looked up to see two jeeps armed with men, dressed like present day Mexican Militia, turn into the entrance. He waited to see what they were going to do but the crowd parted again and the two jeeps moved forward. The crowds yelled and waved their flags as the two vehicles moved slowly down the street. As they passed where Mark was standing, one of the men turned to look at him. The man gave a grin and a salute. Mark glared in return, pivoted on this boot heel and walked toward his squad car.

He backed out the reserved parking and started back to the station. A call came through the radio.

“All units, All units, report. Shots fired on Olvera street.”

Mark pressed the button to hear the officers yelling that the men in the two jeeps had opened fire on the crowd. Their machine guns and automatics had slaughtered most of the party goers in the street. Mark could imagine the carnage as the dead lay on the dead. He drove around a few blocks and slowly made his way back to the street outside the area. The squad cars were blocking most of the streets so he parked to block off one of the side streets and got out to sit on the hood of his car. He nodded to some of the other officers that were rushing by him to help.

“Mark, what happened?” Paul stopped his car next to Mark’s.

“Didn’t see anything. I just left. Got called back so I’m staying here to help out.”

“I’m going in.” Paul raced off after tossing his keys to Mark.

“You do that buddy.” Mark folded his hands across his chest and a smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he looked at his name badge. Castillo, a descendant of one of the Spanish militia; who died in Mexico. “This one is for the US of A.”











Prompt: Liberty is celebrating your freedom in more than one way.