Tatsu - The Threat

Chapter 2 - The Graduate

Sitting on the couch in his dark living room, pondering how to see what others couldn't see, trying to be what he shouldn't, Brian heard a Reagan anti-drug speech on television. It was a repeat emphasizing the "Just Say No" campaign. His instinct would have been to change the channel the moment he heard President Reagan's voice. But he didn't. He sat there, watching and listening.

Reagan said in his eloquent style: "Thirty-seven federal agencies are working together in a vigorous national effort. And by next year our spending for drug law enforcement will have more than tripled from the 1981 levels. We have increased seizures of illegal drugs. Shortages of marijuana are now being reported. Last year alone, over ten thousand drug criminals were convicted." Brian watched the entire five minutes.

He couldn't keep his mind off the fact that the president reported shortages of marijuana. If someone could attest to the shortage, it was Brian. He was desperate for someone to provide him with more product to sell. The demand was high and the money to be made seemed limitless. Couldn't anyone else see that? It seems the mind opens up in such a way when one is in distress. You really can see things no one else can. Such was the case with Brian.

Many more people could afford marijuana than cocaine, and crack was a stupid option. Brian never understood what the big deal was with cocaine anyway. He'd tried it and found plenty of reasons not to like it, but he fell in love with Mary Jane since their first encounter. Only she could temporarily soothe the pain of losing the love of his life to death. And now, only ambition was keeping his heart from stopping. The threat to humanity, dark ambition - the power that changes the world over and over taking it in the direction of those who have a stronger want.

The future of marijuana in the US had become Brian's only future. He wanted to be the Caro Quintero of the USA. If he could sell so much of Mary Jane, one day he would force the system to legalize her prostitution. He dreamed of the day where you could buy a cold beer and a joint at the local store. That would be his gift to the world.

Four months later as part of the Class of 1987, Brian was graduating from Rhodes High School. He was Magna Cum Laude and number three in his class. For years he had worked on losing his accent, but in his constant self-assessment, he had not rid himself of it entirely. He was so hard on himself, but the truth is, a graduation speech with a slight Hispanic accent would have felt like a shortcoming to him. And why wouldn't it? Brian had been humiliated plenty of times for his heritage. An accent was the only reason he did not compete for the valedictorian or salutatorian honor. He was fine with that. He didn't care about graduation anyway, not anymore.

At the commencement, proud families filled the bleachers while the Rhodes High School band played passionately, demonstrating why they were state champs. The venue was adorned with smiles and lit by camera flashes as the loud cheers proudly echoed the names of the students from the stands. A Kodak moment of life.

"Look, there's Brian!" said Brian's little sister Jennifer. But her parents were the shy type. They sat there and let their smiles do all the talking and the cheering. Brian's little brother Jorge, however, sat there with a grimace. Jorge knew there was nothing going on worthy of celebration.

The commencement started and the handing of diplomas began with the Magna Cum Laude group. Brian was wearing his usual face, similar to Jorge's. It was obvious he didn't see what was coming. When his name was called out, "Brian Rodriguez!", an unruly stand innovation from all the students at Rhodes High shook the arena. The awe and admiration in the air caused the families on the stands to clap and cheer as well, even though they knew nothing about Brian. A roaring salute for the young man who helped the challenged, who stood up for the defenseless, who was as tough as he was kind. That was his image, but his nature was contrasting – a complex felonious hero whom people loved naturally or were somehow forced to pretend they did. As his fellow graduates applauded, as the commencement attendees applauded, Brian had no apparent reaction to the cheer, but inside that dull frown, he felt good. His ego was being fed. He really needed the extra breath of life. It was a good night.