Vengeance Is Mine

By DT Saroyan

Juaquin Sanchez, 25 has just finished a three years stretch in LA Co. jail for collusion and conspiracy to move narcotics with the powerful South LA gang, Los Suros. Although having been convicted and incarcerated for those crimes there are strong rumors floating around both the LA legal community and the gang world that Juaquin was set up and railroaded by a an aggressive assistant DA looking to help his DA boss garner high profile convictions to pad legal career and launch a political one. Juaquin becomes caught between two worlds when his old gang affiliates and his current parole officer, who in a strange coincidence is very same assistant DA who had prosecuted him, now contend for his future. Juaquin has to weigh the scales of his heart and conscience to decide what will be the best path to follow for himself, his fiancée and his new baby boy. Novella ,young adult --fiction. 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thestoryboards.net
• Release date: Mar 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393075967

DT Saroyan

Daniel T Saroyan (nome deplume) considers himself  more of a storyteller than a writer. Both before and after garnering an MFA in screenwriting he wrote Op-Ed’s, plays , screenplays ,historical essays, short stories and novellas. His awards include: An Op- Ed for the Orange Co. Register ,(The Greatest Generation was also the Coolest !) . The short story “Our Daily Bread” (Palm Springs Writer's Guild award and the short film ‘Sasha’ (category winner, GlobalFest)  Daniel’s ongoing blog series ‘Just Us talking’ a featured Humorous -yet Serious observation of the human condition as seen through the POV of a cosmic fictional gossip columnist. His short story collection “Stories of the Earth"  in addition to his tandem novellas “Vengeance is Mine!” and ‘Native Strong!’  are both published by Draft 2 Digital and are available on Apple Books as well as literary Ebook vendors. His favorite quote is by the poet Virgil who after writing his epic conquering poem The Aeneid ,nevertheless reminded us to remember the “tears in things” Daniel’s stories tend to explore the imbedded drama in the everyday lives of everyday people and those ‘tears in the things of life. 

Book preview

Vengeance Is Mine

DT Saroyan

Published by Thestoryboards.net, 2020.

While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

VENGEANCE IS MINE

First edition. March 17, 2020.

Copyright © 2020 DT Saroyan.

ISBN: 978-1393075967

Written by DT Saroyan.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Vengeance Is Mine

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Further Reading: Native Strong

Also By DT Saroyan

About the Author

About the Publisher

To all the Juaquins of the world...May you find your way.

1

Picture 3

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The thick galvanized steel bars clicked open with a sharp metallic clang as a young man passed through the heavily guarded barrier that separated the free world from the stark reality of penal confinement. The young man’s spartan prison attire reflected the bare bones uniformity and nullification of individuality which forced incarceration has always sought to achieve. After crossing the threshold between those two worlds and entering a general waiting area for newly released inmates a burly middle-aged corrections guard motioned for the young man to come over to his workstation.

Lift up your arms over your head. He said peremptorily. The young man who was used to having orders barked at him compiled almost without thinking. The older man then visually inspected him for contraband. Turn all the way around. He said in the same nonchalant monotone. The younger man once again complied. His demeanor of total submission to authority, although necessary and unavoidable was nevertheless belied by a defiant look in his eyes which evinced a quiet contempt for the guard and the system he represented. He held his posture waiting for the guard’s next directive.

Sanchez, Joaquin Said the guard reading the name off a computer screen. The young man nodded equally nonchalantly. Ok, you have to go to the bursar and collect your annuity. There was a slight tone of contempt in the guard’s voice. A new law recently passed by the state required all departing inmates to receive a one-time cash payout upon their release from their prison confinements especially those which were of longer duration. The reasoning logic was that the cash bonus would enable the departing internees to get a leg up on starting over on the outside. Nevertheless, the guard was old school and regarded such merciful policies as weak-kneed and ‘bleeding heart’. Accordingly, his disdain could barely be veiled.

The young man followed orders and walked in the direction to which he had been directed. He moved at a steady even pace, a habit which also had been drilled into him. Guards called it the ‘prison shuffle’ in that any fast or irregular movements were strongly discouraged Nevertheless, things and people had to move along thus the term. Life on the inside was often seen as a journey of monotonous days, hours and even minutes which had to traversed. It was a steady walk, not a run which made that journey more bearable. The young man’s ‘journey’ had now reached its destination and his transition to The outside was now the immediate situation facing him. The enumeration he was now about to receive had been designed to ameliorate that situation somewhat. However, he currently faced existential challenges no government disbursement could ever address, and those challenges were waiting for him to emerge from his penitentiary sabbatical.

He followed the colorful prompts to the administrative office and quietly taking his number sat down and waited to be called. The counselor, rather than giving him money, gave him a voucher which he would have to tender over to his parole officer who would control all matters between him and the State of California corrections department with whom he now had a special relationship. As the inmates jokingly put it, Your heart belongs to God but your soul belongs to your P.O. Prior to his release the young man had received his briefing and been given an appointment with his parole officer whom he would meet with immediately after his release. Until then his voucher was just that ...a promise having no monetary value so if one were flat broke it would be a bit of a hardship. But most long timers had a support system of friends and family on the outside to help them get adjusted. The young man also was fortunate enough to have had his own as well. He then went to the claims department where items brought in by people on the outside could be received. In almost all cases it was clothing. The institution provided clothes for inmates who had none provided by outsiders but almost no one ever took advantage of this entitlement as the vestments were usually extremely generic looking almost to the point of the absurd. It was said that it was better to be caught naked on the outside than in ‘county duds.’ The young man went to the claims office and after showing his ID card picked up his package.

He smiled at the choices that had been chosen for him. Simple blue jeans and an extra-large T-shirt with the LA Dodgers logo his formally favorite team embossed on it.  This was a controversial issue as pro sports teams had gang affiliations that could be lethal in closed confinement. LA raiders had been banned for years but newer gang team mascots were always emerging. The corrections department and their LAPD colleagues had to constantly keep ahead of the game regarding any newly formed trends. Nevertheless, the young man didn't mind stepping into the changing room and donning these rather silly duds in that he knew his family had a nice stylish change of clothes waiting for him at his home. What the hell, at least it beat the county orange he'd been wrapped in the last three years He reasoned. 

After collecting his documents, he departed the main administrative building and headed for the main exit. This was truly the most surreal part of the experience. To walk to the outside of the building without an armed escort was difficult to mentally process. He continued at that engineered steady prison pace toward the double doors which were illuminated by the midday sun. He paused for a second before pressing open the metal handles. He pushed them and heard the characteristically loud thud of an industrial door opening. This most prosaic of sounds would from then on be linked in his mind with freedom. He walked through those doors an emancipated citizen for the first time in three years.

The famous California Winter sunshine didn’t disappoint as rays of light and warmth embraced him upon his exit from the fortress like a county building. Although having been born and raised in LA he nevertheless had a keen appreciation for real winters due to a two-year army stint that had had him stationed in upstate New York, as well as overseas posts. After coming back home he would never complain nor suffer any of his friends to complain about cold weather around his presence again. Cold? shit you don’t know what you’re talking about, Was his usual refrain. California was paradise, at least in terms of weather. He walked through the vast parking area and out the security gate. A guard in a small parking kiosk waved him on. It was a bit surreal as he literally left County property and stepped onto the public sidewalk. He felt weird emotions as he stood there among the pedestrians going back and forth about their business. For some strange reason the 'image of a massive heard of buffalo came to his mind and he, having left that main herd, was now integrating back into it. Doing time placed one in a special subset of humanity and most inmates after the initial shock of confinement, would then find a measure of socialization within the adapted environment.  However, being integrated back into ‘the world’ could oftentimes cause even more distress than the original incarceration. Making things worse was the fact that contact with family and friends on the outside had taken a sharp turn for the worse as more austere rules and regulations imposed by accommodating politicians at the behest of an angry voting public had put tighter strictures on visitors and correspondences. Even the hardened long timers who had served for years and ‘seen everything’ marveled at the ‘hard ass’ rules and procedures. Friends and family of inmates had to go through annoying hoops to keep up contact with their friends and loved ones on the inside. There had been reasons for this though. Recent incidents had occurred where visitors had facilitated communications with gang members who were conducting business as usual from their confinement. Things got to a head when an actual assassination of a rival gang leader had been orchestrated right beneath the County’s nose. Local Tv and a LA Times opinion pieces embarrassed the County enough to take serious measures to assuage the tax paying public’s anger. The hapless inmates put it their own way by saying It’s a shit sandwich that everybody’s gotta take a fuckin bite of  The young man, accordingly with the exception of his mother and girlfriend, had had very little contact with his friends outside who just couldn’t get through all the shit and had reassured him they’d makeup for it with ‘hearty partyin’ upon his release.  He mused to himself just how they’d make good on their promise. Anyway he’d find out soon enough, but first things first. He continued walking to the agreed upon pickup spot which was a local Mexican fast food place, called Taco Tio. His girlfriend would be waiting there to pick him up and maybe his little baby boy would be waiting with her. The welcome anticipation that happy reunion now dominated his thoughts and motivated him to step at a livelier pace.

After walking for about five minutes he crossed La Cienega Avenue and arrived at a little mini mall in which the little eatery was located. Damn, this place never changes. He whispered to himself. Hope the food stayed the same. Taco Tio was locally known to have the very best carne  asada burritos in all of LA. It was merely one of life’s little pleasures he could only wistfully muse about during his recent incarceration. The thought that he could indulge in having one of these at his leisure, or any other thing he wanted was still hard to process. One step at a time. He reasoned to himself. Till I get the hang. However, the next moment he forgot about carne asada, or anything else for that matter when he saw his girlfriend approaching him while holding their little boy. The young woman also having seen him sprinted towards the young man all the time conscientiously cradling the baby in a way that her movements wouldn't shake him adversely. Her care in this effort impressed him and reinforced his long-held belief that she would be a very good mother.

She reached him and with the little boy squirming