California Fire And Life

23

Hector Ruiz has done this a couple of dozen times, so it's no big deal.

Another day at the office.

He's driving an Aerostar van with six people in the back, following Martin up the Grand Avenue entrance ramp onto the 110. He checks his rearview mirror. Octavio's right behind him – smack where he's supposed to be – in a shit-brown '89 Skylark, which is good because Octavio is the crucial dude in this gig.

Octavio fucks up, it could get ugly.

But Octavio, he don't fuck up.

Octavio is a player.

So is Jimmy Dansky, who for an Anglo anyway is pretty trustworthy. Dansky's cruising – or better be, anyway, in the right-hand lane on the 110 South – in a black '95 Camaro, and Dansky is one terrific driver, which is a happy thing because the timing on this is tricky.

Hector checks his speedometer and eases it down to thirty.

Sees Martin kick up his Toyota Corolla to hit the highway.

Just as Dansky's Camaro swerves right, into the entrance lane.

Dansky hits the horn.

Martin slams on the brakes.

Hector stands on his own brakes, cranks the wheel to the right, and just nicks Martin's right rear bumper.

Looks into his rearview and here comes Octavio.

Brakes squealing.

And BAM.

Octavio's so good, man.

Octavio is the only dude Hector ever wants to make his play with, man, because Octavio makes this sound like the big bang but only hits them at about ten miles per hour. Octavio leaves skid marks like an F-16 landing on a flight deck but the impact is like, minimal.

Like, I've been kissed harder.

The two cars look like shit, though. This is because Hector and Octavio smacked the bumpers up pretty good in the garage before putting them back on the cars. Matched the paint jobs and everything, but then again, they're pros.

Hector hollers into the back, "It's showtime!"

Hector slides out of the car, starts screaming in Spanish at Octavio, who's screaming back. Six dudes from Sinaloa in the back of the Aerostar moaning, Oh my neck, Oh my back, Oh my neck.

Doctor will diagnose soft tissue injuries and treat them for months. Refer them to physical therapy, man, and bill for ultrasound and massage and chiropractic sessions and all that shit that never happens except on paper.

Hector yells at Octavio, "You better be insured, man!"

"I'm insured!" Octavio yells back.

"Who's your insurance company?!"

Octavio whips out his insurance card.

Like American Express, only better, because you don't have to pay the bill.

"California Fire and Life!" Octavio yells.

Just like they've done it a couple of dozen times before.

Just another day at the office.