I Win De Lotto!

By Tim Sullivan

This is the story of a young Mexican man, named Louie, who comes across the border illegally to find work for himself and his family. It details the trials and tribulations that illegal immigrants must experience to achieve some success.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 10, 2006
• ISBN: 9781465325846

Tim Sullivan

Tim Sullivan is a crime writer, screenwriter and director who has worked on major feature films such as the fourth Shrek, Flushed Away, Letters to Juliet, A Handful of Dust, Jack and Sarah, and the TV series Cold Feet. His crime series featuring DS George Cross has topped the book charts and been widely acclaimed. Tim lives in North London with his wife Rachel, the Emmy Award-winning producer of The Barefoot Contessa and Pioneer Woman. To find out more about the author, please visit TimSullivan.co.uk.

Book preview

Chapter One

Home From Work

"Hola, Ricardo, que pasa," Louie said as he walked in the door of their apartment in Franklin Park. It was a pretty nice size room in the front of the basement. The owners had partitioned it off and put in a little washroom and shower stall. In what past for a kitchen they had a microwave, coffee maker and a small refrigerator. These small basement flats, called garden apartments, are built illegally by people who can’t afford the mortgage payments without renting out rooms to relatives or immigrants. In many cases they rent to illegal immigrants because these people are glad to have a cheap place to live in. They pay cash and they don’t tell anybody about the illegal arrangement.

Louie was a short little Mexican, about five foot six. He had olive skin and a full head of thick black hair that made him look a few inches taller. He had been with Ricardo for about six months since he had problems with a crooked landscaper in Cicero and a bad experience in Humbold Park.

Ricardo was about five foot ten. His skin was a little lighter than Louie’s, and he also had that cold black hair. He had been in the country illegally for about a year and knew his way around pretty good. He had a wife and two kids in Mexico and had come north for the money.

Louie, speak English, he said smiling, I keep telling you that’s the only way you’ll develop a better accent.

He put the coffee on and then he hollered again toward the washroom, How come you’re so late this evening, work overtime?

Ricardo, you sound like a wife questioning me, I laughed. But nah, no overtime . . . something better . . . cash. The boss asked me to stay late and clean out his car and wash it. He said he had a big meeting downtown and wanted to make a good impression. But I think he was taking out that pretty secretary from his office for dinner and who knows what else, I said laughing. After I finished he paid me cash so I stopped in at the Carneceria and bought a ticket on the Lotto for tonight. I also stopped to see my friend Miguel and got some fruit and the burritos. Do me a favor, Ricardo put a burrito in the microwave for me while I check out the washroom. I think I’m getting a call!

Okay, Bro, he laughed and said, I’m putting one of these burritos on for me, too. That’s the pay for my cooking. And another thing, Louie, why do you waste your money on that Lotto crap. I told you it’s nothing but a con game run by the State.

Hey, that’s the only chance I’ve got to get ahead and go back and impress Maricella’s family. Their god is money.

After we finished eating and started cleaning up I started feeling kind of down thinking about losing Marisella and, of course, my son. Then last weekend my only other love, Juanita, invites me to a wedding and introduces me to her new boyfriend. Ricardo, I said, what a ya say we go down to the local tavern for a nice Corona?

I got no money, Louie. I was just going to lay down tonight and watch the little TV and rest.

C’mon, I’ll buy one beer and we can suck on it for an hour. Miguel told me there’s going to be a great show on the big TV at the El Lobo Tavern, Tejano music from Texas. It’ll remind you of home.

"Okay, muchacho, as long as you’re buying. Plus the walk will do me good because I could use the exercise." About seven o’clock we left laughing and joking as we walked briskly over to the El Lobo Tavern which was a good half a mile away. Already I was feeling better. It’s sure nice to have a friend like Ricardo.

Chapter Two

El Lobo Tavern

As we approached the El Lobo we could hear the Spanish music as the door opened and closed with people coming and going. Outside there was a group of young studs that looked like the local edition of the Spanish Mafia. We walked in and made our way through the small tables set up at the front that were already filling up. Then we jostled our way across the dance floor in the center of the place that was loaded with the big spenders cavorting with the local girls. This was ladies night when the girls got all their drinks for half price. I laughed to myself (when did a girl ever pay for a drink at a bar like this.)

The owner’s name was Lopez, just Lopez. He had big bushy hair, thick eyebrows and a huge moustache. He looked like the picture of Pancho Villa that hung on the men’s room door. He also had a picture of a Spanish dancing girl on the door to the women’s washroom. I guess he thought this gave this dump some class, I smiled to myself. He was an ominous character. He had those piercing eyes of steel that looked right through you.

When we got to the back of the bar who do we meet but, Miguel, my friend from the Carneceria. "Hola, Miguel, Ricardo said as he tapped him on the back and laughed, what are you drinking, panther piss?"

Sit down bracero’s, he answered as we touched fists (our way of greeting one another). I’m drinking Jarrito, Ricardo, you know, that Mexican soda pop. I have to stay away from the heavy stuff ’cause I drink too-much and then I miss work.

We liked to come to the El Lobo because it was always filled with people chattering away in Spanish. It made me think of my hometown in Mexico where I use to clean the local Cantina.

We always had a lot of fun laughing and talking about the many strange looking characters with their cowboy hats and loud shirts and boots. Of course we had one eye on the girls as they paraded around, shaking their wares to the music. Hey Louie, Ricardo whispers in my ears as he pokes me, did you see the tetas on that one that just came in . . . like friggin cantaloupes! She’s a real beauty. I’d sure like to take a shot at her just once.

Yeah I wouldn’t get too interested in that one, Ricardo. She’s the sister of the owner’s wife, Miguel laughs, rumor has it he’s taking care of both of them. Besides, Ricardo, you couldn’t afford her perfume.

All of a sudden she turns around and sees us at the end of the bar. She walks over towards us with a big smile on her face. When she gets up to us she puts her arm around me and gives me a little squeeze and says, how’s my little friend Louie this evening?

Just fine, I answered, blushing a little as Ricardo’s mouth drops open in disbelief.

Maybe I see you later lover. She smiles and then winks at me as she strolls away shaking it as she moves.

Louie, you little la cucaracha, Miguel says as he slaps me on the back, I didn’t know you knew her. How the devil did you meet her?

Oh, last week when I came in here for a quick beer the owner asked me to help him unload some stuff from his car and carry it into the back room. Margarita was also in there putting things away. We talked a little and I told her I had a wife and a kid in Mexico. Later on she asked me to dance after the place got crowded. I said no thanks. I was kind of embarrassed but she insisted because some ugly talking dude kept hitting on her. She thanked me for helping her out.

Didn’t Lopez, the owner, get mad at you?

"Nah! He probably figures I’m no competition for him. Margarita doesn’t like all the guys pawing her and making passes at her, but it’s part of her job here to wait on tables and entertain and dance with the customers. Although I’ve got to say she’s not a putana like the other waitresses."

It’s a shame, Ricardo answers smiling, cause she could make a lot of money.

Miguel and Ricardo must have undressed her a dozen times with their eyes the way they were following her every movement. Changing the subject I said, speaking of women, Ricardo, how are you making out with that cash-register girl, Bonny, at the Carneceria?

Oh, I took her out a few times, and I got to tell you she’s a real firecracker. She was all over me like a coat of paint. The relationship will never go anyplace permanent because she goes for the money. We’re good friends and when she doesn’t have a date she calls me and we go out, her treat, he laughs. I always tell her I’ve got no money.

At eight o’clock the jukebox was turned off and they turned on the Tejano Show from Texas on the big TV. Tejano is Tex-Mex popular music that combines traditional, rock, and country music and always features an accordion. Everybody was either singing along or clapping their hands, or both. Then the dancing started. Somebody sent a drink over to us—probably my friend, Margarita. (She knows I don’t have a lot of money). Ricardo went off dancing with Gisela, one of the waitresses he knew. He was a good dancer and the girls like to dance with him.

About ten o’clock the show was over with and Lopez turned off the TV and plugged in the jukebox again. He liked to see the customers out dancing with the girls cause then they got sweated up and drank more, and of course they bought the girls drinks. Ricardo came back to our place sweating bullets. Ricardo, I laughed, you look like a racehorse that just finished his workout. A little after that the party cooled down and people started leaving, (the sober ones). The others hung around the girls figuring they might get their shot at them. Little did they realize, I laughed to myself, the only thing they would go home with was the Mexican Daily Newspaper.

Ricardo finished drinking his beer and said, Louie, I’m going to go to the washroom. When I come back we better leave’ cause it’s getting late—work tomorrow.

Yeah ok, Ricardo, right after the news. I want to see if I won de Lotto.

You poor fool, Miguel said, are you still wasting your money on that crap? It’s a con game. I’d rather put that money on one of these girls. At least I might get something, he laughed.

Hey Miguel, I answered, you sound just like Ricardo. It’s my only chance to make it big in this world. Ricardo came back to the bar from the washroom and I got up from the stool and we started for the door. The news reporter came on and started calling out the numbers for the Lotto. First the daily numbers and then the little Lotto, then my game, the big Lotto. Little Lotto is usually worth $250,000. I figure, if I’m going to spend my money I want to take a chance at the big money. The big Lotto is a minimum two million dollars. Tonight, it is worth much more then that. I’ve played since I came to Illinois, but tonight, for some reason, I figured I had a good chance to win the big one tonight. As we got to the door I heard the numbers. "Dios mio, I hollered as I grabbed my head with both hands and screamed, I WIN DE LOTTO! I WIN DE LOTTO! I WIN DE LOTTO!"

What do you mean, what are you saying—settle down, Ricardo says as he shakes me. Don’t let everyone know your business. Then he whispers, are you sure that those are your numbers?

I was so exited I just couldn’t keep quiet. Ricardo they just read off my numbers. They’re the last two numbers of the year I was born, and my father’s and mother’s and my brother’s. I won de Lotto, I said as I jumped up and down again.

Everybody heard me screaming and turned around. Margarita came over and gave me a big hug and said, I’m so happy for you, Louie.

Then old steely eyes Lopez, the owner, says, Louie come on over here. Ricardo was right; I should have kept my mouth shut. I didn’t like the way Lopez looked at me. He poured a big shot of Tequila for me and Miguel and Ricardo and of course, himself. Here it is, he says, for your good luck. Drink up-it’s on me. Then everybody starts coming over to congratulate me. Of course all the girls had to get in on it, hugging me—man was I getting embarrassed.

Hey, I only won the Little Lotto, I lied, not the big million dollar one, I explained. Then steely-eyed Lopez poured another Tequila for us again, on him. I was laughing and crying at the same time, I felt so good. After a couple of beers on top of the Tequila I started to get dizzy. I staggered away from the bar.

Ricardo looked around and said, We better go Louie, Miguel is already gone. Then he helped me toward the door.

Lopez calls over one of his men, a big hulk called Manny. After whispering to him for a minute, he hollers over the bar at us, Fellows, wait there a minute. My man Manny will drive you home. You’re in no condition to walk, he laughs.

Ricardo says, No, I’ll take him home. We only have a short walk and it’ll make him feel better, clear his head. But Lopez insisted. They helped me out the door to the van that Manny and another fellow had parked near the front of the Tavern. The moment they got me into the van, I passed out. Ricardo, who could really hold his liquor, also felt dizzy. Son of a bitch, he thought, that gordita ratta Lopez must have put something in our drinks. He tried to get away but they threw him in the van with me. Then they drove us to Lopez house and carried us into the basement. This is the place where he housed all his waitresses when they came over from Mexico, so he could control them.

After they got me on the floor of the basement they threw cold water on me to wake me up. I tried to sit up for a minute but I was too drunk and sick from the crap that Lopez had given me. Then Manny picked me up by the collar with his two big hands and called me a pinche collero, (F—asshole), and started beating and kicking me and hollering, Where’s the Lotto ticket? I slipped into a semi-conscious state and just fell limp on the floor. As they tied me up I threw up all over them. This infuriated them and they started beating and kicking me again. Now I thought that maybe I was dying, I was in such pain. My evening of good luck had turned into an evening of horror and pain. I was now in a semi-conscious state mentally wandering from the present back-back-back to Mexico!

Chapter Three

Mexico On the Mind

Louie, Mama said, now that your Father has died we must make new plans. Your brother, Edwardo, is moving back home with his wife and four kids to live and to run the farm and take care of me.

But Mama, I can run the farm and take care of you like I’ve done these past two years when Papa was sick. Please don’t send me away Mama, I cried as I knelt in front of her.

Louie, there will be no room for you. You will have to go and live with your uncle in Mexico City, she said as she pushed me away (with a tear in her eye).

Mama, I don’t want to go. I kept crying. Please let me stay. I’ll bunk in the barn with the horse.

I’m sorry, my son, she said as she hugged me and cried, this is the best for you, Louie, and all of us. Then she packed me a small bag and walked me to the bus. She hugged me and kissed me and said, Don’t forget your mama and be a good boy and go to school.

Because I had to help Papa with the small farm I could only go to school six months out of the year, if I was lucky. Here I am, just turned sixteen years old and only in the seventh grade, I thought, as I rode the bus to Mexico City.

When I got to Mexico City, my Uncle was waiting for me at the bus stop. Good thing, too, because there were a lot of men hanging around there just trying to entice young kids to go with them. Later I found out why they wanted them—those perverted criminals.

I could see my uncle wasn’t too happy to take me into his house. When we got there he set me up with a place to sleep in the corner of his garage. He put me in school but I ditched almost every day. The kids laughed at me because I was so old for the seventh grade and made fun of me because my clothes weren’t the best. They called me stupido all the time. Then when I got home, my uncle would call me the same thing as he beat me for ditching school. He would tell me I’d never amount to anything hanging around with those