Hobby and I had taken our girlfriends to Ensenada, Mexico where we entered a two-man backcountry dune buggy race and poker run. We had driven off the beaten path in an attempt to out maneuver the competition, but instead we wound up wrecking our buggy in a remote area. Hiking out we thought our luck had improved when a beat-up pickup truck appeared, but the two Mexicans turned out to be banditos. When Hobby told them they couldn't have his gold Rolex wristwatch one brandished a machete.
What I admire most about Hobby is that in the face of danger he is incredible cool. He reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew the two cards we had picked up on the poker run. "You have a machete, but I have these," he said showing them to the Mexican. They were laughing like hyenas. I realized that Hobby was serious.
I've seen the professional poker player Chris "Jesus" Ferguson slice a carrot in half with a thrown playing card, so maybe...
The one called Pablo moved toward Hobby holding the machete in a low fighting stance.
"Stop, I'm warning you!" Hobby shouted as he held a card in his hand and cocked his arm. Hobby cut loose with the card, which sailed past Pablo's head provoking more laughter. When Pablo's blade was within striking distance, Hobby let loose the other card, which also seemed to miss, but Pablo suddenly showed surprise and reached for his ear. His hand filled with blood; he was momentarily stunned giving Hobby an opportunity to grab his wrist and twist free the machete. "Caramba," Pablo cried as he realized half of his ear was dangling loose and Hobby was now holding his blade. The other bandito ran for the truck, but when I blocked his path, he turned and headed for the hills.
Hobby gave the wounded man a handkerchief to hold the damaged ear in place and stop the flow of blood. "Is it bad, Joe?"
"Not life threatening. If their jalopy holds up we can get back to Ensenada and he can get some stitches. But first I've got to tell you; I can't believe you stopped him that way. I'll pick up the cards. We've lost the race, Hob, but maybe we can get lucky in poker."
At the Ensenada headquarters hotel we turned over the truck to the wounded man. I also gave him a $100 bill after taking a good look at it. We had agreed to pay that much before things turned nasty. We were checking in at the control booth when the girls spotted us and came running.
"What happened? We were getting so worried," Kim said.
Sue was just about in tears when she gave Hobby a hug.
Emilio's wife, Angel said, "I wasn't going to leave until I was sure you were both back safely." We exchanged more hugs and I suggested, "Let's get a drink and we'll tell you what happened."
After a period of commiserating over the ruination of Hobby's buggy and the loss of the race, we got absolutely giddy over the telling about Hobby attacking the machete-wielding bandito with two playing cards. We were distracted by the sound of raised voices coming from the lobby. When a large squad of police entered the bar, we were totally befuddled until our bandito, Pablo, appeared in the front of the pack with a policeman who seemed to be in charge. Pablo shouted and pointed toward us, which initiated an order and a charge of policemen. Along with some pummeling, Hobby and I were knocked down, handcuffed, and then hauled to our feet. The man in charge said in English, "You are under arrest for kidnapping and assault."
Angel was in the face of the arresting officer shouting in Spanish with great passion, but she was mostly ignored as we were hauled out of the hotel and thrown into the back of a van.
"The girls will get us a lawyer, or do something," Hobby said.
"I'm sure they will. I'm glad Angel is there to help. Maybe she'll call Emilio.
But listen, until a friendly face shows up, just ask for an American Embassy representative and otherwise clam up. For God's sake, Hobby, don't try anything physical."
"You think I'm stupid, Joe?"
"Not at all, but when someone gets rough with you, you respond almost automatically."
"Don't worry, Joe. I can restrain myself with the police."
At the jail house we were fingerprinted, searched, shoved around and harassed. When they were satisfied we were devoid of weapons, I was taken to an interrogation room; I presumed Hobby was taken to another. Throughout the questioning and threats, I stuck to the agreed upon script and hoped Hobby did the same. It had been about an hour since we were arrested and I was beginning to wonder if help was on the way. Then suddenly I was left alone when my interrogators were called out of the room.
The next face I saw was the arresting officer. He said, "Would you please come this way, sir?" Ah ha! I thought; the Marines have landed! I was shown into a large room where many people were assembled; among them I saw Emilio and Hobby.
Emilio came to me, "Hobby has told me everything, but frankly it's hard to believe. Did Hobby, in self-defense, attack a man holding a machete with a playing card?"
"Absolutely true. Then after cutting the man's ear with a flying card he disarmed him."
Still harboring doubts, Emilio asked, "What about the kidnapping charge?" "No such thing," I replied. "Before the attack took place, this Pablo had agreed to take us to Ensenada for $100. Although, I did the driving, since Pablo was nursing his ear, I made good on the deal and paid him. I suggest you find out if he has a $100 bill and also get the playing cards that the police took from Hobby."
The stage was set. Hobby, Emilio, Pablo, and I were in the center. Surrounding us was half the Tijuana police force. For our benefit Emilio spoke in English while one of the police officers translated. There was seriousness about Emilio that seemed to scare everyone but Hobby and me. He addressed Pablo, "Did you agree to take the Americans to Ensenada for $100?"
"No, sir."
"Empty your pockets!" In the man's wallet was a folded $100 bill. "That's mine," he said. I didn't get it from the Americans." It was my turn, "Ask him if he can give you the last five numbers of the serial number?"
Emilio looked at me askance, but asked the question.
"No, sir. No one would know that."
"Except the person who gave it to you," I said. "See if the numbers are 57438."
The bill was examined and confirmed my claim.
Emilio was fired up. He shouted, "You lied! The American did pay you for the trip to Ensenada!"
As Pablo cowered, Emilio said to Hobby and me, "So much for the kidnapping; but what about his claim of assault?"
"Emilio, give Hobby the playing cards," I said.
"Watch how Pablo reacts. Also, I think if you examine the back of Pablo's baggy trousers, you might find a machete scabbard."
"Pablo, turn around and lift up your shirt," Emilio ordered. Pablo reluctantly obeyed.
"You told the police you did not have a machete, but you have a scabbard. You lied again!"
In sight of Pablo, Emilio handed the playing cards to Hobby and said, "You can demonstrate what happened. I don't care if you cut off his other ear." Hobby held a card and, lining up with Pablo's head, cocked his arm.
"No mas! No mas!"
Pablo cried as he shielded his head.
Emilio engaged in heated conversation with the police officials. There would be a lot of ass kicking over the incident, which would ultimately fall upon the hapless bandito, Pablo. Emilio soon joined us. With a big smile he said, "You have been released in my custody until the paperwork can be cleared."
"We are deeply indebted to you, Emilio," Hobby said.
"Nonsense, I enjoyed the opportunity to help my friends. And while I must make apologies for your treatment at the hands of some of our misguided public servants, I must confess, I enjoyed seeing them squirm."
"So that's it? We're free to go?" I asked.
"Free as can be." Emilio answered.
"Great," I can't wait to find out if we've got a winning poker hand."
Write to author David Valley at: dvalley1@san.rr.com
