Water Balloon Fight

As a kid, I lived in a rather large apartment complex in La Habra, California. Since most of the families were Latinos, there were plenty of kids to play with. About ten of us always hung out in the playground and played basketball, soccer and cops and robbers. My friends always found ways to fight boredom. One hot summer day, one of my friends bought a couple bags with 100 balloons each for a few bucks. The manager of the apartments did not allow the use of water balloons in the property. Even if we cleaned up the mess afterwards. We decided to use them in the local park instead. The best place to fill them up was the bathroom and the water fountain. My friend split all the balloons as even as possible. The teams were chosen. Fill up bases selected. Rules established. The fun began. As the tiny amount of plastic and color expanded with the water, I imagined who I wanted to get first. The sink filled with red, green, blue and yellow water grenades for the ultimate summer battle. I carried as many as I could and left the bathroom with haste. One arm held five or six of them and the other held the one I wanted to use first. When I saw my target, I ran as fast as I could and threw a single water balloon with accuracy and got my friend on the back. Before the water dripped from his back to the ground, he retaliated and chased me with his own water power. The chase cornered me with another of his teammates. They attacked me without mercy. My face, back and chest completely soaked from the battle. I defended myself and used up my ammunition. I ran back to the bathroom for safety and reloaded. I immediately joined the battle once again and threw whatever I could carry to my friends. The heat of the sun kept us form giving up. Our clothes heavy with water slowed us down but the battle could not end until the last balloon was thrown. The concrete was dark like it had received a heavy rain. Our hair combed back with our fingers to remove some of the water adsorbed during the fight. We ended the fight and walked to the nearest convenience store to buy a soda and a bag of chips. Our snacks were victoriously enjoyed against the wall while the sun kept us warm and dried our clothes. Before we returned to our respective apartment, we planned the next water balloon fight.

Dishes and Dreams

The year was 1997 when Pedro crossed the border from Mexico to United States. All his savings were used towards paying off the coyotes. The road from Mexico City to Tijuana was easy. The road from Tijuana to Calexico was challenging. The coyotes lead the way to a small fault on the fence. The coyote crawled under the fence when the sound of an SUV dissipated into the wind. Pedro was the last immigrant to go under the fence. Pedro followed the coyote to a spot behind a bush. They were told to stay down until the next SUV passed them. The coyote said it was important to run as fast as the could and to never look back for any reason and to never stop for anything. When the second SUV passed, the coyote and the immigrants ran as fast as they could towards the other fence. Pedro ran as fast as he could under the cover of darkness. The coyote made it to the other fence. Inches of metal separated Pedro to a better life. The fence was split from the bottom to a few feet to the top. As the coyote opened the panels of the fence, the immigrants entered into the city of Calexico. Once everyone was in, there was no going back. Four strangers crossed together and separated to different cities upon crossing. Pedro's only contact was his brother Joaquin in Anaheim.

     Pedro began the next chapter of his life as a dishwasher in a rather nice restaurant near Joaquin's apartment. He washed dishes, the bathrooms and parts of the kitchen on every shift. When the opportunity to acquire over-time presented, he took it without hesitation.

      All his clothes were purchased at thrift stores. Toiletries were bought at the dollar stores. When a tube of toothpaste reached the limit. Pedro split the tube with a knife and scrapped enough toothpaste for another two brushes. He bought groceries as cheap as possible. The only tine he ate chicken or steak was when the servers or the cooks at the restaurant made mistakes. His favorite was a well-done ribeye or an overcooked chicken breast. He took a cup full cup of coffee from the restaurant to reheat it in the morning. Leftovers were also taken home for his breakfast like soup, bread and side dishes. Aluminum cans were collected everyday on his way to work. Another small but meaningful source of income. Frugal was his life.

     One day on his way to work, Pedro noticed a banner in a high school which read "Free English Classes." Pedro enrolled and began his English education three times a week. It took him two years to learn the English language. Between school, watching movies with subtitles and asking people at work. He moved from being a dishwasher to a cook. His hourly rate increased and bought his first pair of Nikes.

    The teacher responsible of his English education suggested the next step of his education--his GED. The mornings were once again used for school. It was not easy since he was learning several subjects at the same time. Reading, writing, and problem solving increased dramatically. Within a year, he earned his GED.

    Pedro requested the assistance of an immigration lawyer to help him find a path towards legal residency. The lawyer suggested a work sponsorship. The general manager at the restaurant agreed to help him since he was the person who had to vouch for him. After thousands of dollars, paperwork filed, countless signatures and letters from his manager, he received one single letter from immigration for an interview. The interview was a success and Pedro received his long-awaited green card. As soon as he showed the document to his general manager, Pedro became the assistant manager at the restaurant. His salary allowed him to purchase his first car. A silver 2012 Honda Accord.

     The year was 2017. It was time for Pedro to submit his application for citizenship. At the same time he applied for a general manager position at another restaurant. Both applications were submitted the same week. The position for general manager became a reality. He was the person in charge of an entire restaurant. He was the boss. The salary allowed him to buy his first home. His position allowed him to take a vacation and travel. The first place he visited was New York City. He wanted to see the Statue of Liberty because it was the symbol of the American dream. A dream that became a reality. A dream which was further elevated when he passed his citizenship test. When he became a citizen of the United States, he celebrated with his brother Joaquin and his family and his old general manager. They went to a restaurant to celebrate. The plate used for the steak he ordered was similar to the ones he used to wash. He looked at it and reflected on his journey from Mexico to America. He cut into his medium steak and smiled. The End

Creative Writing Study: "The Imaginary City of Knives"

The morning fog slices through the city and turns everything grey and dull. Even though the sun cannot stab its way through the dense fog, the residents rise early and crowd the city to work, study or shop. Those who walk the streets ignore one another as if they fashioned razor-sharp barbed wire around them or held a blade ready to attack any one who made any form of contact. Those who drive cut each other like a hot knife through butter as they were on a race to the bridge or the highway. Once the morning madness ends, the sun carves its way into the city and slowly shaves off the cold, bitter and hectic morning. The sun finally brings healing to the incisions caused by the morning rush with beautiful sights of tall buildings, trees, museums, cafes, the bridge and the blue vast ocean. Nothing can cut tranquility away from the men and women of the city any more.