We Three Kings

January 18, 2011
By , Brighton, MI

ISAAC MEDINA, a young Hispanic man dressed in the bright orange attire of an inmate, is escorted into the room by a large guard. He walks up to the booth, sits, and grasps the phone. Picking up the receiver, his gaze gradually aims towards the audience. Now and again, he fidgets uncomfortably and runs his fingers over his left arm.

You see this?

ISAAC lifts his hands and makes gesture.

ISAAC (cont.)
That’s the symbol for Latin king, which I am. Got put in here for shootin’ a crip. That n***** and his gang earned that lead. I didn’t kill him though. My crew’ll take care of that.


ISAAC (cont.)
I was born south of the border in the city Los Mochis. Don’t remember much about it, but I remember it was a hell of a time getting outta there. Got to San Fran two years later, I think. Soon as we got there was when I stopped seeing Gabriel. Sure, I missed him, I mean, you know, he was my older brother. But in a few years I found out what had kept him so busy. You see, he was making the Medina legacy. He was preparing Cisco for the next two Medina’s, me and Dominic. I sort of inherited his position in the Mexican mafia, after he went to prison with the other half of La Eme.

ISAAC looks down in deep thought.

ISAAC (cont.)
Dominic wasn’t ready to be a Blood. I taught him everything I knew, he just, wasn’t ready I guess. We were supposed to rule the city, all three of us, Latin Kings.

Looking around uncomfortably, ISAAC blinks away tears.

ISAAC (cont.)
If you’re wondering, prison ain’t so bad. You’re just a number and numbers got nothing to prove. The people here know who I am though. Bloods know Kings and Crips know Bloods. It has always been that simple. In the end, you’re either dead or in prison. You can guess where the lucky ones end up. You’re talking to one of the lucky ones right now. My brothers, they weren’t so lucky. Gabriel died in prison a few years ago, and Dominic, well…
(Chokes up then sighs)
The way he went is my only regret. You’d think I would regret being a Blood since all it got me was this twenty-year sentence, but you know, its one heck of a feeling knowing where you belong, and it’s all I know. I can’t let that go.

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