Sunday, January 24, 2016

El Chapo (A Drug lord’s Demise)


  




A short man stands in his prison cell, his back to the two guards, looking at a bare white wall (the two guards are named: Juan and Enrique). They are guarding El Chapo, number one drug lord in the world, they have black masks on. You can’t tell what time it is, there are no windows, only lights. Juan stands five feet in front of Enrique, who stands behind him, both holding M16 automatic rifles, barrows downward.




Juan   Do you want to know something about El Chapo?


Enrique     O.K.


Juan (cont.)    He doesn’t have any idea at all when the American gringos are going to get him, he’s planning his escape as he stands…


Enrique    You really think so?

Juan chuckles.

Juan   (cont.)    that we will see!

He straightens out his shoulder strap of the M16.

Juan   (cont.)    how about you letting me sleep half the shift, and I’ll do the same for you, my feet are killing me.

Pause.

Enrique     no way!     

El Chapo remains still as stone.

Juan   (cont.)    well, anyhow, here he is, and he hasn’t the faintest idea in 72-hours he’ll be in the hands of the Americans, no more digging tunnels under his toilet. You know his vanity got to him. Thought he was a movie star, he even invited Sean Penn to visit his rancho for a hand shake, and a photo sitting, can you beat that?

El Chapo moves his shoulders a tinge as if irritated with the chitchat, but keeps his back to them.

Enrique     pride comes before destruction. So my wife always tells me.

Pause.

Juan   (cont.)    Yah, I heard that idiom before, kind of true I suppose.

Enrique moves his feet some.

Juan   (cont.)    what is pride anyhow?

Enrique      it’s got something to do with ego, superiority, arrogance, you know, those kinds of things.

Silence.


El Chapo twists his head to see the two masked guards, he looks depressed.  After a moment, he straightens back up.

Juan   (cont.)    let me put it this way. He has little idea how watchful the Americans can make his prison stay, they don’t take bribes like they do here in Mexico.

Pause.

Enrique   I think he does have an idea of how the Americans are and that is why he’s depressed…

Juan   (cont.)    I didn’t think of that, could be. Maybe he’s thinking of his family.

Enrique    Yes. Perhaps, but he should be thinking of all those families he’s hurt.

Pause.

He shuffles his feet, as if they have fallen to sleep.


Juan   (cont.)    only thing he’s sorry about is being caught, nothing else.

Silence.


Enrique (quietly)   He’s been in the paper almost every day, and on television.  

He stretches his arms out, his M16 dangles freely, loosely.

Pause.

Juan   (cont.)    he’s a prisoner with a billion dollars of blood money, Satan’s waiting for him at his doorsteps, hoping the gringos will kill him.

Juan   (cont.)    he’s not a religious man, you know.

Enrique        all Latin Americans, Mexicans included are religious, we all love Mary the Mother of God, even the likes of him…

Pause.

Juan   (cont.)     that’s nonsense.
  
El Chapo   what did you say?

 Pause.

Enrique        don’t answer him, we’re not supposed to talk to him, and they got cameras all over the place, hidden cameras.

Pause.

El Chapo    you said Mary.

Enrique      What? I can’t remember what I said.

El Chapo turns back to his wall.

Juan   (cont.)     asshole, oink-pig.


The two guards pace the hall-way, one on each side, one behind the other, as if to loosen up their muscles, always glancing back minute to minute to see El Chapo, and then back into their position…


Juan   (cont.)       do you know what I find disappointing?

Pause.

Enrique   What?

Juan   (cont.)      our government’s ignorance. I mean this asshole here, we got to feed him, bath him, dress him, watch him, as if he’s special, why not just hang him, save the government a lot of tax money. The Romans had a great idea: no work no food, and for people like him, meat for the lions.

Enrique   What?

Pause.

Juan   (cont.)      Listen, you got to define your words, such as: ‘What?’  Twice you said it in a row, what does it mean, nothing, and it’s no part of a discussion, take my tip, define ‘what’…

Enrique    I guess it means I abased! 

Juan   (cont.)      what does abased mean, if it means ‘what’ …

Enrique   it means we are government employees, and I’m humiliated by you thinking we should kill him, we’d be no different than him!

Juan   (cont.)      don’t be so sensitive! Look at this little man here for example, a first class asshole that is ‘what’ he is. I have defined the word what for you, even better than debased!   Now do you see, he has nothing more to say, you’re supposed to say ‘why’ then I say, he’s more or less called it a day. I mean, not long ago this jerk was a man of conviction, wasn’t he? Not of principle, not of values, now he’s empty as if he just vomited it out of him, front and back.

Pause.

Juan   (cont.)       Mr. Asshole, we’ve just begun.
 .
Pause.

Enrique       be careful Juan, they got cameras all over the place.

Pause.

El Chapo puts his hands over his face and sobs.

Juan   (cont.)       you see, he’s really depressed! Poor baby.

Pause.

Enrique   What? I mean, I guess so, I guess he’s depressed, and it appears so.


Enrique looks as if he is taken in by El Chapo’s depression. Juan gives him a smirk, although his back is still turned to the two guards.

Juan   (cont.)       He deserves it!

Pause.

Enrique    what?  He deserves what?

Pause.

Juan   (cont.)       to be depressed, that’s what!

Pause.

Enrique   I got to tell you, I’ve got to tell someone, and there is no one else I can tell…

Juan   (cont.)       all right. Go on. Tell!
 .     
Pause.

Enrique   I feel safer now that he is behind bars…


Juan   (cont.)       Why?  Did he try to make a deal with you too? 


Enrique    I mean, the world is cleaner of drugs, and Mexico looks good instead of a parlor for drug lords.      


They look into each other’s faces.

Enrique    I wonder if he’d shake hands with the likes of me like he did with Sean Penn, and take a picture with me, he’s famous! Maybe I can sell it on Ebay!

Juan   (cont.)       don’t be so silly. He’ll gnaw your hand to the bone, should you shake it.

Juan chuckles...   looks at his watch

Juan   (cont.)       our shift will be over in twenty-minutes, I need a cold beer!

Pause.

Juan   (cont.)       by the time El Chapo gets out of prison the rush of water as an old man will no longer splash against the wall, but fall and leak like a ruptured water hose.

Juan chuckles...   looks at his watch again

Juan   (cont.)      he’ll learn like my old man did, life gives old folks things with the right hand and takes away things with the left hand, El Chapo will have two left hands.

Silence.

Juan   (cont.)       He wants his story to outlive the sounds of his war drums, he’s vain as they come.


El Chapo (back still to the guards)   you understand little about the world. My story does set me apart from you boobs. My story owns you. Directs you, otherwise you’d not be here. My story is different from your neighbors. Whom are all relatively the same?

Juan looking at Enrique, directing his words…

Juan   (cont.)      His story will put him in a wooden box, deep in the ground, swallow him up.

El Chapo (back still to the guards)    you are like a little puppy that wags his tail running in a circle when he sees his master and lets out air as if his back end is on fire.

Juan   ((cont.) (looking at Enrique))      can he talk to us like that?

Enrique   don’t listen to him, he’s smoldering under his own ashes.

Juan chuckles...   looks at his watch once more

Enrique (looking at Juan, looking at his watch now)    we got five minutes to the change of guards, how did they capture him anyhow? 


Juan   ((cont.) (with a chuckle))   they speared him like a fat walrus through a hole in the ice as he came up for air, and stardom!

Blackout.

El Chapo
By Dennis L. Siluk, Dr. H.c. Copyright © 1/2016
#5023/1-23-2016