Chapter One: The Root Of All Evil

This is chapter 1, the intro to the novel 'A Life Of Sin' which will be available for purchase Oct. 2013

My life. It all started when I was ten years of age. At that time we lived in Elk Grove, California. Elk Grove at this particular time was the most “calm” place south of Sacramento. It was the place where you moved to if you had been poor and now were ready to move up in the world. And many did! Once anybody moved to Elk Grove, they demanded a certain respect and treatment from their lowly Sacramento family, and slowly but surely assimilated into its suburban image and boring culture.
Although so many different peoples from different places were starting to reside in Elk Grove, Caucasians felt as if it were their turf. They acted on it, too, by calling the police on any coloured person who behaved differently from how Caucasians behaved. They also complained about the way we coloured people lived every chance they got, perhaps hoping that we’d get tired of the complaints and move out. There were even Caucasian gangs similar to the Ku Klux Klan that were formed on high school grounds and in parks out of hatred for coloured folks. I even had someone I thought was a good-hearted person say, “I hate how black people are moving into our neighborhoods. Why can’t they just stay in their gang-and-drug-infested neighborhoods and give us our peace?” Of course, I stopped believing that she was good-hearted there and then. And no, that didn’t take place in the 1970s. No, no! This took place in 2006, years after racism was proclaimed dead. To those who do not see and experience it, of course it seems that way!

I had faced a life-changing event a few months after we had made ourselves comfy in Elk Grove, way before many blacks and browns started moving in at an increasing rate�"way before Elk Grove was even considered a city.

It was November 1997, when the holidays were taking place and school was out for vacation.
It was an ordinary day; my father had just finished working in the garage. Although our garage was spick-and-span, he always managed to find something to do in there.
He was a hardworking man at one point, owning his own landscaping business when I was only two years old and we lived in Sacramento. Then all of a sudden we had moved to Elk Grove. At that particular time, if you moved to Elk Grove, it meant you had a great amount of income coming in. He had bought the house and a brand new Mercedes-Benz. At that time Elk Grove consisted mostly of large fields with crops, and people basically lived a country lifestyle, but in a few areas, neighborhoods were being formed, and that’s where we had moved. We were used to the sound of traffic, and neighbors, not fields filled with horses and cows.
My mom was confused by the sudden move, but didn’t ask questions. When my father owned the landscaping business in Sacramento, he was a drunk, he would frequently come home late from either a bar or from hanging out with his drunk friends and pick a fight with my mother. But from the moment we moved to Elk Grove, he never argued with my mom, and although he hardly spent time with us, he would buy us lots of toys and video games. He became an outgoing person from one night to another. I mean, I’m sure he had always been outgoing, which is why my mother chose him, but poverty and stress can turn the most humorous and awesome person into a jerk sometimes.

My mother was a multitasking woman as most mothers are; she was always in a good mood as long as my father was, and even when he wasn’t, she always managed to tuck us into bed and kiss us good night. She did her best to always be in a positive mood and always made an effort to make my father feel joy. While we were financially poor, it was rare for him to smile, but she did make a huge effort to at least try to make him feel happy.
On this particular day when my life was dramatically changed, my mother was in the kitchen cooking some lunch. Because of the multitasking woman that she was, she was tending to my sister in the bathtub and ironing my father’s clothes at the same time. My father never really showed us tenderness, but I could say that my mother’s affection was so great that we never needed anyone else’s. My mom was the definition of what a mother should be like … although, of course, that’s just my point of view.
My sister and I never really got along, mostly because I was a boy and she was a girl. We did talk at times, of course, but our conversations were always brief. Sometimes they were not even conversations, but only comments about each other�"typical insults about the way we dressed and other petty things kids fight about.
I was always minding my business, playing with my G.I. Joes or my video games. I didn’t have many friends since we had moved to Elk Grove, so the only person with whom I shared a few things was my mother; I kept the rest to myself.
We didn’t have many visitors; in fact the only person who came to see us was my aunt. She was my mom’s only sibling and five years younger than my mom. She lived in our old neighborhood. She was single, and had supported herself financially since she was a teenager, because my grandmother had died before I was even born. My aunt was an extremely independent woman and a huge influence on my life, but that will come into play later in the story. Aside from my aunt, it was always my dad’s friends who came to visit. They never came inside our house, though, because my mom didn’t welcome them. They only came to drink with my dad in the backyard, and my mother hated that. Whenever those drunken friends of my father’s came, my mother would notice them and then walk away murmuring, shaking her head.

Our life was not complicated at all, and we lived well. My father made all the money we ever needed, and although none of us knew what he did anymore, we were content. He wasn’t busting his a*s in landscaping anymore and was no longer in a bad mood.
Before I continue with what happened that day, I want to add something about what I can say my father was doing and the way he made his money:
One day while my dad was in the garage, I barged in and noticed that he was arranging stacks of cash in his trunk. My mother was out grocery shopping, and my sister had gone with her. My dad had just bought me a brand new video game, so maybe he thought I wouldn’t bother him, but he was wrong.
“Ricardo?” he said, quickly trying to hide the money. “Why aren’t you playing your game?
He stared at me and then smiled with the intention of hiding his nervousness, but after trying to hide the money, he paused and stared at me as I stood still, looking at him. Rather than feeling nervous as he first did when I barged in, he suddenly seemed relaxed. “Come here …” He smiled.
I comfortably walked over to him as the obedient son that I was. When I was close enough, he snatched me off my feet and sat me on his lap.
“Look …” He removed the cloth sheet to reveal the large amounts of money underneath it.
“This is all mine. Your daddy is rich,” he said.
“All of it?” I asked.
“All of it!” He smiled, squeezing my arms a little and shaking me out of joy.
“We can buy a lot of things?” I asked.
“Son, with this money we can buy everything we ever want.” He chuckled.
I said nothing, but stared at the money and at his huge grin.
After he noticed that I did not smile back, his huge grin was replaced with a very serious look. He held my chin in a tender grip, looked into my eyes, and said, “Son … I want you to remember something, okay? A real man gets paid. A real man makes real money. Only bums don’t take care of their family. Don’t forget that, all right?”
That was the first time my dad had spoken to me after a few years of not saying anything at all. He made me understand that making lots of money was what it took to become a real man, and I engraved his lesson in my memory.

Later that day when my mother and sister returned from the market, my sister went straight to the bathroom to shower. My father was in the garage as always, and my mom was in her bedroom.
I was in the living room playing with my toys when all of a sudden I heard a noise. The neighborhood was quiet, and besides my sister and me, there were no kids living in the neighborhood. It was like neighborhood for older people, so any noise at any time was alarming enough.
I looked back and stared at the door, because the thump had come from the outside. After several moments of noticing nothing, I returned to playing with my toys, but as soon as I did, I heard another loud thump on the door�"a much louder thump.
I dropped my toys, and as soon as I started walking toward the door, three Russian men knocked it down and rushed in. All three rushed to the rooms where my mom and sister were, passing me as if I were a mirage. Then one more entered with such a tranquil expression on his face expression that it was almost as if he had entered his own house.
He looked at me and smiled as he walked toward me, a cigar gripped in his teeth.
I heard my sister scream and then suddenly stop, as if someone had covered her mouth.
I didn’t react to anything because I was staring at the man, who smoked a cigar as he grinned and stared right at me.
He took the cigar out of the grip of his teeth and patted me on the head.
“Don’t be afraid, boy,” he said in English with his Russian accent.
I was afraid but I didn’t even intend to yell or run to my dad’s aid. I just stared at him as he puffed on his cigar.
Then I heard my mother scream as one of the men dragged her by her hair into the living room. Another man carried my sister on his shoulder to the living room.
My dad was coming out of the garage, rubbing black grease off his fingers with a stained rag.
“Sophia!” my father yelled, startled by the muffled screams of my mother. He rushed to the living room, but as soon as he reached the living room entrance, one of the Russians hit him across his face with a crowbar, laying my father to the ground unconscious.
My mother, sister, and father were all being tied up with a rope. My mom was the only one crying, because my dad and sister were unconscious.
I started shaking a little, knowing that we were in danger, but I was too young to understand why. At that instant I thought about my father showing me all that money in the trunk. I thought maybe he would offer the men some of that money so they would leave us alone.
The Russian man who had entered the house last and patted me on the head walked toward my dad, kicking his leg slightly to wake him.
“Wake up. Wake him up,” he ordered his partners.
My dad slowly opened his eyes, and one of the Russians wrapped duct tape around both my mom and my sister’s mouth. He was about to wrap some around my mouth, but the man who held the cigar said not to. Instead of hurting me, he placed his right hand on my shoulder.
My dad looked around and then noticed the man’s hand on my shoulder. I had never seen my father so afraid of a man before.
“Victor, what are you doing here?” my father asked.
Victor was his name …
Victor walked around laughing and said, “What am I doing here? Oh, Leo. It’s funny you should ask. Did you forget what you did?”
My dad looked at my mom, and my mom stared at my dad as tears slowly begin to flow from her eyes.
“Oh, do you not remember, Leonardo?” Victor said, and then looked at my mother. “Oh … I see what’s going on! You don’t want your wife to know. Okay. That’s fine, if I were you, I wouldn’t tell her how much of a scum bag I was either.”
My father was desperately trying to break out of the ropes as he kept his eyes on Victor’s face.
“Why are you bringing this to my family, Victor?” my father asked. “I saved your life once! Remember? It’s time you repay me!”
“When you save a man’s life, you don’t do it because you expect yours to be saved, Leonardo. You must do it with your own will, because otherwise there is no reward.” Victor smiled as he walked back and forth, looking at my father.
“You know, when I first arrived at this house, I saw a big difference from when I first met you. A new Mercedes out in the parkway, and this big nice house and your fingers circled with gold.
“Has your wife ever asked what happened to your lousy landscaping business? I can’t believe your wife fell for it. Either that or she just chose to stay quiet. After all, money changes people. Hell! Money can even buy love …” Victor grinned, and then suddenly got serious, stared at the floor, and then murmured, “At least it did for me …
“Anyhow”�"he shook his head, and then faced my mother�"“did you really think your husband earned this money? Please answer me that.
“Did you? Come on, did you really think he was going to buy that car outside, and this house, by cutting white people’s yards?” Victor laughed.
“This snake is a criminal, just like me.” Victor pointed his finger at my dad. “We killed innocent little kids, just like these.” He pointed his finger at my sister and me.
“I won’t lie�"it’s wrong. But I’m being honest! And your husband here … How honest is he? He’s a goddamn liar! That’s what he is. But that’s not what I came here for. I couldn’t care less if a man can fool his family, or about decency. That’s not my job in this world. I came here because he made a mistake�"the biggest mistake he will ever commit in his miserable life. And of course his last mistake …,” Victor explained with a huge grin, his eyes wide.
I watched my mother cry and my father beg … It really made me feel like I was even weaker, because I saw firsthand that both the people by whom I felt protected were begging. I just stood there and watched, hoping that my father would do something.
“Leo, weren’t you making enough money? Wasn’t our boss paying us enough?” Victor asked.
“You seemed satisfied!” he continued. “But now I see that greed took control. I bet you had no idea we would eventually find you. I was going to come in the door and shoot you, but I saw a better plan as soon as I walked in.” Victor turned to face me.
My father looked at me, and then quickly faced Victor. My father’s face was covered with sweat.
“What do you mean?” My father’s voice trembled.
“I liked this boy the minute I walked in.” Victor held my face.
“He didn’t jump up at the sign of danger. He didn’t even run or scream. I like that. He’s just like you were when I first met you: no fear.” Victor nodded.
“You leave my family out of this. If you’re going to kill me, kill me, but leave my family out of it!” my father yelled.
“Oh? There’s no need to yell, Leo. I’m not the one who’s going to kill you,” Victor said as he pulled out a 9-mm handgun from his jacket pocket.
“What the hell are you talking about, Victor? Leave my f*****g family out of this!” my father yelled.
One of the Russian men kicked my father across his face, and then yelled, “Shut up!”
“You don’t yell at a man who has a gun, Leo. Come on: we both know that.” Victor laughed.
I looked at my mother as she silently cried. She wanted to scream, it seemed, but the duct tape wouldn’t allow her to.
My sister then regained consciousness, and once she noticed the condition we were all in, she too cried in silence, tape wrapped around her mouth. She was probably confused and scared to death.
When you see these things happen in the movies, it’s not a big deal�"it’s actually enjoyable and exciting�"but if you get knocked out and then wake up to see your parents tied up and strangers surrounding you with guns, you expect an explanation. Having to see this as a child is painful and terrifying; it is not meant to be seen, but money drives people to do evil and sickening things. It is said that the love of money is evil … the root of all evil. Perhaps once I actually start to deeply think about it, it is!
My father sweating and trembling in fear, my mother desperately waiting for an explanation, and my sister trying to cry out loud, while I just stared at them all … I showed no emotion on the surface, but deep inside, I was drowning.
Suddenly Victor grabbed and opened the palm of my hand.
“Victor! Leave my son alone. Please, don’t hurt him. Please, Victor, please …” my father pleaded as tears began to spill from his eyes.
Victor then placed the gun on the palm of my hand. It was the very first time I had held a gun, and for some reason I wasn’t afraid anymore. I just stared at Victor’s eyes as he stared into mine.
With his hand on my hand, I gripped the gun tightly. I looked at my father and no longer saw him as strong and brave, but as weak and helpless.
I looked at my mother; her face covered with tears made me feel strange. I had never seen her afraid, not even when my father had picked fights with her. She had cried tears of happiness on her birthday, when my father bought the house, and when we had all first walked in. But I had never seen her cry over something painful. I knew I had to escape, or try to help, but my mind was still in some kind of trance. I just stood still, going along with whatever Victor’s plan was, looking at my mother cry. When Victor gripped my hand even tighter, I looked at his face again. He smiled at me and said, “What is your name, son?”
I glanced at my father as he struggled to break free of the rope, and then I faced Victor again.
“What is your name, boy?” he asked.
“Victor, leave him alone,” my father cried. “Please, don’t hurt him. Take me and do whatever you want with me, but please leave my family alone.”
Victor faced my father and nodded. “Settle down! I told you I wasn’t going to hurt him. And you know I am a man of my word, which is why I’m here to begin with.”
With both hands on the gun that had been placed in my grip, Victor directed my aim at my father. I looked right into my father’s eyes as I aimed the gun at him. All that remained in me was confusion.
My father then dropped his sad face and opened his eyes very wide, probably unable to believe the situation he was in; I guess he predicted the inevitable.
“You never thought your own son would kill you, did you, Leo?” Victor laughed as he looked at my father.
“Victor, what are you doing?” my father said, his wide eyes staring at the gun.
Victor smiled and said, “I’m just doing what is right. Hey, you and I were good partners, but the greed! Oh, ho-ho!” He laughed. “The greed, it makes people do crazy things. I wouldn’t harm you, Leo, not if it was up to me, but I’m a businessman. You know how that is, right? I’m not even paid much, but it’s about loyalty to the cause.”
My father looked at my mother, and my mother looked back at him. “I’m sorry …,” my father cried to her.
“You’re too late for apologies. Get a grip.” Victor smiled.
“I have the money, Victor. I can pay you more than what he’s paying you,” my father said. At that particular moment I saw a way out. I knew my father wasn’t lying about being able to pay Victor, so some of my fear was actually alleviated.
“Maybe you can pay me, Leo. But you can afford to pay me only this once,” Victor said. “My boss pays me for every mission, and you? You would be able to pay me only this once.” He chuckled. “I have bills to pay. I’m trying to start a business�"you know that. Besides, the cause is what matters, not so much any measly green paper.”
“You won’t get away with this, you son of a b***h!” my father yelled.
“There’s no need for so much anger. You’re on the verge of reaching your final breath, Leo! You ought to be praying to that blue-eyed god of yours up there.” Victor pointed at a religious picture on the living room wall. “Show as much love as possible to your family, because this is the last time you’ll ever be able to show anything at all, and what better way to end it than with love?
“Aw, see. I just realized that away from all of this terror, I really am a very sentimental man … Unfortunately, this career does not require me to recite my poetry.” Victor laughed, and the other men laughed along with him.
My sister’s mouth was wide open as she tried hard to scream. But no sound came out because of the duct tape. I kept wondering what she felt inside, and I kept waiting for my father to break free.
Suddenly Victor grabbed my index finger and placed it on the trigger of the gun that I held.
“Squeeze that trigger, son,” he whispered in my ear.
I looked at my mother the instant Victor told me to squeeze the trigger. Tears kept coming out of her eyes to the point where her face was covered completely. All I did was wait for my father to help. I hoped and hoped that he would rescue us from this, but then I saw him put his head down, and that’s when I lost my hopes of him saving me. I felt like crying. Again Victor whispered in my ear. “Pull the trigger, boy.”
Suddenly my fear began to turn into anger. I was angry because my father, my guardian, my protector, refused to do what he was supposed to do. And, although I was very afraid, I was also very angry.
“Shoot!” Victor said
I pulled the trigger. Out came a loud explosion that startled both my mother and sister, making them yell with so much effort that I almost thought the duct tape would be torn off.
That sound of that explosion made me jump probably half a foot in the air, and echoed harshly in my ears . It was a sound that echoed in my head for many years …

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[Ricardo Ignacio]

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