The Prodigal Son From Chambers Lane

By Daniel Maldonado

Will Junior's secret destroy him from the inside?

The family's oldest son, Jose Luis Mendoza - Junior - battles a haunting childhood secret. Because of the burden, he hasn't been able to grow into the man he wanted to be.

Soon, he must confront his unloving and hard-hearted mother - and others who have betrayed his desire to be loved.

But will he be able to escape his past, and embrace his future?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Next Chapter
• Release date: Feb 12, 2022
• ISBN: 4824117151

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The Prodigal Son From Chambers Lane

Daniel Maldonado

Copyright (C) 2018 Daniel Maldonado

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2019 Next Chapter

Published 2019 by Next Chapter

Cover art by Cover Mint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

This book is dedicated to my older brother, Peter John Maldonado, Junior, who opened up to me about all that he endured as a child and as an adult. I'm glad that we have been vulnerable and have encouraged one another through difficult times.

Content Advisory: This book is intended for mature audiences and contains graphic violence, explicit language, drug use, and disturbing imagery.

Chapter One

What's Up

The black, Volkswagen Jetta quickly limped along Baker's Street until it reached Interstate 15. The right front portion of the Jetta's hood was still dented from the previous year when a speedier pickup truck dropped an improperly stowed, aluminum ladder onto it. But the Jetta still seemed to glide through the air, albeit not effortlessly like when it first came off the assembly line six years ago. Jose Luis did not mind. It was not his vehicle, but his roommate Rey's vehicle. She would often let Jose Luis borrow the Jetta so that he could go the one-hour drive down the hill from Victorville to Chino where he worked. Jose Luis's job at the Walmart distribution center ended when the grave shift ended at five thirty in the morning each weekday. Originally, Rey would drive Jose Luis to work, but she quickly grew weary of this after the first few days. Now, she trusted him to drive the Jetta himself even though Jose Luis had not owned a vehicle in nearly a decade.

Ah, come on. Get out of my way, jerk.

He vigorously honked the horn three times and then stiffly gave the driver a middle finger as he passed the slower vehicle to express his disdain.

I hate these Sunday drivers who act like they have nowhere to go.

Jose Luis often spoke to himself as well as to the other drivers even if they could not hear him. It was a way for him to let off some steam after a long night's work.

The Jetta suddenly banked to the left following the S-curve in the road. The miniature white, ceramic bunny affixed to the dashboard wobbled slightly in sync with the Jetta. This wobbling sounded like an annoying rattle in Jose Luis's ear.

Rey and her stupid bunny.

He wanted to yank it out and throw it out of the window, but he knew Rey would not appreciate that. He could not quickly figure out a believable excuse so he let it go. Instead, he turned up the radio to drown out the noise.

This is my jam!! Jose Luis tightened his grip on the steering wheel and began to sing along. Little red Corvette, he nearly screamed at the top of his lungs. Baby, you're much too fast.

Jose Luis fancied that he was driving a Corvette rather that the black Jetta. This diddy gave him extreme excitement. Prince had been one of his favorite singers since high school. That was so long ago, but the memories were still emblazoned in his mind as if they had been created just yesterday. Jose Luis often bragged that, despite taking marijuana since he was thirteen years old, his mind was a steel trap. He could remember every little detail that most people often forgot. Who cared if those details always favored his version of events and may have distorted the truth? He surely did not. He was reluctant to admit it and was adamant that he was an objective historian of all family events; big and small, lost and forgotten, cruel or divine.

While he was driving up Interstate 15, Jose Luis contemplated the past evening's event. He tried desperately to forget it, but his frustration lingered below the happy feelings that were engendered while he listened to music. The negative feelings were now overwhelming him. He knew that he would have to deal with them even if it was so early in the morning. He needed trusted advice. Traffic was light traveling north on the interstate towards Las Vegas. So Jose Luis decided it was safe to talk on his cellphone and drive at the same time.

Hey Siri, call Bro.

The computerized, female voice echoed the command. Jose Luis, however, heard the sultry voice of a twenty-year-old Brazilian woman with a slight accent that he adored. He did not know why none of his friends had this feature on their iPhones. The number to his younger brother's cell phone number began dialing.

"Thank you, Senorita," he half-dreamily replied.

Jose Luis's anxiety increased as he awaited the completion of the call. He was unsure if his younger brother, Daniel, was awake this early in the morning. He hoped that Daniel was, but Jose Luis was unsure of the time difference at this time of the year. Arizona did not observe daylight savings time.

Answer Man. Jose Luis thought this would subliminally encourage his brother to do so.

After the fourth ring, he heard, Hello.

Finally.

Hey, Junior. What's up?

Hey, bro. I need to talk to you.

Hold on. Let me go into the other room. I don't want to wake up Nikita. Daniel picked up his phone, rose from the edge of the bed, walked into the living room, and continued the conversation on the couch. Okay.

Sorry about that, bro. I didn't mean to wake you.

It's okay. I was just sitting on the bed. I couldn't sleep anyways. I've been up for awhile.

It was a Monday morning. Daniel would need to finish getting ready for work. His law firm was in mid-town Phoenix. Traffic would be getting heavy soon if it wasn't already. Jose Luis knew that his bother would talk to him during the entire, long commute.

I have some bad news

Daniel braced himself. Jose Luis had only been working at the Walmart distribution center for a month. Daniel wondered if his brother had gotten fired already like he did at almost every job. Jose Luis never lasted more than three months.

This white bitch is harassing me.

What did you say?

This bitch is harassing me. She's following me everywhere I go. I don't even work in the same department that she does. But she keeps coming over to my area asking me if I finished my work. I do my job. I don't need her telling me what to do. There are so many lazy asses at Walmart. People stand around and do nothing most of the time. I work hard. I complete two pallets while everyone else hasn't even finished one. Why doesn't she tell their lazy asses to work? Why does she have to bother me?

"Not again, Daniel thought to himself. He instead retorted, Why don't you complain to a manager?"

She is a manager, Jose Luis exclaimed.

I don't understand. If she's your manager, then you have to listen to her.

She's not my manager. She just likes me. She keeps telling me how strong and buff I am. She doesn't believe that I am over fifty years old. I work like an ox. She keeps rubbing my arms and staring at me.

This story was eerily similar. Daniel had heard Jose Luis complain about some woman harassing him at practically