Beto Days

Death by Lowrider

I woke up one Sunday morning to the sound of music and feet stomping on the bathroom floor. I was usually the first one up on the weekends, sitting quietly watching early morning cartoons and eating cereal. But that day my pops was up before me and already getting ready. He had already dressed in his stiff 501s and rigid white tee. His clothes looked so stiff I was surprised he could reach his head as he ran an Avon brush through his hair with one hand and then ran his fingers through his hair with the other. He repeated this motion over and over again as he tapped his shiny black shoes on the linoleum floor and swayed from side to side. He was in a good mood so I knew it was going to be a good day.

I entered the doorway of the bathroom and started to dance with him. I was moving fast and having a good time waving my arms and legs. My dad continued to sway and duck with his fist close to his chest and elbows out to his side. He always danced slow, even when the beat of the music was much faster. I must have killed his vibe because he stopped dancing a little after I started and lowered the music. "Get ready mijo," he said. "There is something going on at the park today they'll be a lot of nice cars out there."

He didn't have to tell me twice. I washed up as fast as I could, got dressed and joined him at the kitchen table. By this time my mom was up and making some breakfast. They talked about going to the park but my mom wasn't interested in going. She'd stay home and relax with my sister and wait for us to get back. To me that meant that I could sit shotgun so the day was just getting better.

We spent the next hour or so washing the Chevy. It was an Impala, gray with black interior, early 70s I believe. He had some nice chrome 5 spoke wheels on there with white wall tires that I had to clean with an old toothbrush. So, I cleaned the tires while he washed and rinsed the rest of the car, sometimes forgetting I was down by the wheels and wetting me with the hose. I didn't mind though. I just wanted to get done and head out.

On the way to the park we had to stop at the liquor store for our usual park supplies. Six pack of beers for my dad, one candy and soda for me. At that time, it was normal to crack open a beer and drive with it in your lap even at 11 in the morning. Well, it was normal for us and that liquor store marked the start of our journey. We headed towards the main street in town crossing the church. My dad took a swig of his beer while other fathers walked out of church with their families. I suppose the other fathers were doing a good thing but they looked miserable as did their kids. The only ones smiling were the mom's but they weren't as happy as my dad and I. I was just big enough to look out the window so I made sure to sit up tall so all the kids could see me smiling. I knew them from school and from church too. I mean, we would go to church just not every week. We rolled on, making the sign of the cross from our foreheads to our chest to each of our shoulders and were forgiven as we sent a kiss up to God.

We got to the park and there were a few cars out there but not too many. I was expecting a row of lowriders and trokitas with music blasting from each of them. Instead, there were about 10 cars or so scattered around the park. My father parked near the entrance of the park and we stood near the hood of his car. He left his radio on as he worked on his beers and looked around. I took off for a walk to see if I knew anyone at the playground but I didn't. On my way back to the car I noticed there were much more cars and still more driving it. Now you could here different songs playing out of each car. The further I got from one car and the closer I got to another was like a station change. If I liked a particular song, I would walk alongside that car for a while. If the car was really nice, I would stop and stare at it pretending I was driving it.

I got back to my dad and told him about the cars I saw and he pointed out some I missed. He talked to me about the make, model and year of the cars and how I could tell which was which. I didn't really understand too much, I just knew that I liked some more than others but most were really nice. The nicest one was driving into the park as we stood there talking. The paint sparkled like glitter and had lines of various colors. The chrome was bright, the top was down and it was bouncing of the ground as it entered the park. I was mesmerized by its beauty and walked towards it as it passed by. My father grabbed me by the shoulder saying, "Cuidado! You don't want to get killed by a lowrider, do you?"

We laughed as he finished up his last beer and turned his car back on. "Vamanos", he said. "We'll drive around the parking lot one time and head back home. Your mom is waiting."

We drove slowing around the park looking at each of the lowriders as we drove by. Families were having a good time. Men were talking to their ladies, others with their friends or their kids. They nodded or waived as we drove through and we waved or nodded back at them. As we reached the end of the park ready to make the u turn and head back out, I saw that beautiful car we had seen bouncing its way in. The car was parked in reverse up a side trail leading to a stage. Everyone could see the car from its pedestal parking spot. People were walking towards it to get a closer look and the driver got out to greet them. When the driver got out, I saw a kid a few years younger than me, about six years old, jump from the back of the seat to the front. He began to play with the steering wheel like he was driving and I thought that was so cool. I began to daydream of me driving the car myself so I guess I didn't notice when the kid pulled down on the column shifter.

I remember seeing the glitter paint and chrome coming right at me, like the light of a train coming through a tunnel. I couldn't move. I couldn't talk. I didn't want to die by lowrider but I was stuck. I saw the driver of the car start running towards it and the group of people pointing and screaming. In my mind I was apologizing to God for skipping church and smiling at the other kids who went. I was about to confess all the travesuras I had done when I heard the screeching of car tires and felt a force pull me into the seat.

My dad noticed the car coming at us in time to speed up and make the u turn to the other side of the center divide. He slowed down as the beautiful car jumped part of the divider and smashed into a tree separating the two directions of the parking lot. We both stopped and looked to see what happened. The driver grabbed his son to make sure he was ok. He hugged him, kissed him and then began yelling at him and pointing at the damage to his lowrider. I was starting to feel bad for the kid when my dad started yelling and questioning me. "Why didn't you say anything? Que te pasa? You really wanted to die by lowrider today?"