Julio is a big man, rough worn from when he used to do real work. An old factory man, before the factories became superfluous. He's Mexican, though my mom describes him as a quarter Spanish and three quarters Apache.

Apache means 'enemy" in the Zuni language.

We joke about the family rate as I sit on a dirty couch in my mom's Section 8 apartment. Does it ever bug me that this guy does my mom anally, or sells her to the highest bidder? Enough crack rock will keep me from thinking too much about it. Besides, mom's no dewy-eyed virgin. She knows the score, probably better than Julio does.

I break out my pipe and smoke some to test it out. Julio is watching me with bright eyes and a big, yellow-toothed grin while my mom rubs his genitals through worn black jeans. There's a picture of Jesus on the wall looking down on the scene, giving us His blessing.

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