“Use a revolver,” advised “Lil’ Eddie” when Marcos went to see his friend from high school who was a member of the West Side gang. “It won’t jam on you when you need it most.”
Marcos had actually known Eddie Gonzalez since kindergarten. They were friends almost all their lives. Marcos had protected Eddie from the playground bullies who would have beat Eddie up everyday except for his big friend, Marcos. Somewhere in their teens, Eddie found new protection in a criminal street gang, and his friendship with Marcos drifted away, but “Lil’ Eddie” still loved Marcos, and the feeling was mutual.
When Marcos “drove his sleek machine,” as The Boss would have described it, to his old friend’s house, it was like fate was moving. Marcos’ “sleek machine” was a low-rider shiny black mini pickup truck with shiny black bed cover for camping or whatever. There wasn’t another vehicle like it in their town. Marcos was proud of his truck that he had bought with his hard-earned savings from the side jobs he’d worked all through high school. He’d driven his bride in it to Puerto Peñasco on the Sea of Cortez for their honeymoon two years prior to his visit with “Lil’ Eddie.” Marcos didn’t even consider that his unique ride was as distinctive as a fingerprint.
“Take this one,” offered “Lil’ Eddie.” “It’s a snub-nosed .38 that also shoots .357 hollow points, and it already has the serial number filed off of it.”
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