The Untamed Sheikh (a Fazza novel)

Chapter 1: A Slight Resemblance

I was finally in Los Angeles after being on the road for the last four hours, driving back from San Diego from visiting my cousins. We had also gone to Tijuana since the border was not that far off, simply to just eat street tacos and tortas and burritos. I needed something authentically Mexican and seeing that the US-Mexico border was literally just next door, we figured why the hell not.

The only thing was that I was going to have to keep from my mom the very fact I had crossed the border. Otherwise, she was going to freak the hell out so badly, leading into another useless argument over something trivial.

As I finally exited the freeway, I saw cops blocking some of the streets. Then I realized it was the Border Patrol and saw them arresting people, no doubt those they assumed were here illegally, then I also noticed that it was also a DWI checkpoint. It was things like these that really pissed me off, especially with how they treated my people.

I finally made a complete stop and watched as one of the cops walked over to me. Now, I was for sure pissed.

"So you let the whities and the rich through but you're gonna stop the Latino and tell me this is just a DWI checkpoint, right?!"

"Sir...!" said the cop, but I ignored his sorry ass and searched my satchel for my passport and my driver's license.

"I think we both know that the border is well over a hundred miles away from here Vato..."

"Sir!"

"So I will have a group of lawyers so far up your ass, you'll be residing the ten circuit Venzor-Castillo verdict in your sleep!" I spewed and then looked at him, showing him my passport.

The officer looked at me like he was surprised I had said all of that in one breath. That was what tended to happen to me when I got mad. I went off and said every damn thing that was floating inside my head.

"Wow, never met anyone who could speak that fast and say all of those things in one whole breath" he laughed.

I looked at him closer and he seemed to be not far off from my age. If anything, I would put him at twenty-three or twenty-four years old. If not twenty-five.

"Yeah well, glad to be your first" I said, sarcastically.

He took my passport and opened it.

"Faisal Uribe...what are you Arab?"

"I'm half Arab and half Mexican. Mom's half-Lebanese and half-Mexican. And Turkish because of my grandpa. But I'm assuming you didn't stop me just to ask what my ethnic background was, or did you?! Cause I can tell you one thing, that's racial discrimination and I will sue!"

"Relax kid, this is just a routine checkpoint" he laughed, taking this rather easier than I expected. "I only asked 'cause I thought you had a rather interesting name mixed with a Hispanic one."

"Ahuh, I see...can I get going or are you gonna breathalyze me?" I asked. "Can we just get it over with so I can get home that much quicker?! I've been on the road for four hours in case you didn't know."

He laughed. "No, it's ok. I'm sure I'd be able to tell if you were intoxicated. Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to talk as fast and as angrily as you are. Besides, you seem like a good kid."

Really? Since when did cops think of teenagers like myself as 'Good Kids'?

"Wow, that's a first I've ever heard from a cop!"

"How old are you?"

"I'm eighteen. What about you?" and just as he was about to speak, I stopped him. "Let me guess, twenty-three?"