Nick set it up, we stuffed match heads, and Brent looked for a target in the alley. By the way, we had bought all the CO2 bottles in the hobby shop. The owner probably thought we had started our own model jet plane club. That wouldn''t have been near as much fun. Brent said he found a target. "Let''s try to hit that clothesline full of clothes at the end of the alley." It must have been a hundred yards away. We all agreed. That way we could tell if we hit the clothes, because they were all white. Jim stuffed the bottle into the cannon and lit the fuse. It fired off with a blast. We ran down the alley to see if we hit the target. To our surprise, we missed the target, but hit the side of the wall next to it. It had a chunk of broken stucco, and a tint of gray color on it. Wow! That was awesome! All we had to do is hone in on how to shoot it more accurately. If we were out at the park, we might even have to allow for the wind. Anyway, we were all jazzed and ready to find a place to hone our skills.
The Train
After we discussed potential firing locations, I came up with the idea to head for the L.A. River. It was unanimously agreed, because of the lack of people and houses there. Even though we had a bad experience there earlier, we decided to go to another area in the river. Terry suggested we go further down toward the train trestle, where we rode our bikes. Then it hit us all at the same time. Why not set the cannon up near the trestle, and wait for a train to come? Then we could launch bottles at the train! Brilliant! But it probably wasn’t the safest thing to do. Oh well, we''d been lucky so far, so we headed for the river. Nick brought a bag full of bottles that we had already punctured. The bag also contained tons of book matches and small tools to aid in our operation. It was like "muzzle loading." One of us would cut match heads, one would stuff them, one would operate the cannon, and the others would be "lookouts" to warn us of any danger. Brent wasn''t able to go with us, but gave us his blessing. He was in hot water at home, because of the garage incident. We arrived at the river on our bikes, ready for fun with something we were proud of. Hell! How many other kids were so creative with mischief? We thought we were really on the threshold of discovery. It was science in its best way. We convinced ourselves we were testing a new propulsion system for small military artillery. Why not have a little fun with it? So, we set up the cannon at the river, about three hundred feet from the trestle. We loaded the pipe, piled rocks on it, and waited for the train. Meanwhile, we all worked diligently stuffing match heads in several other bottles. That way, when the train arrived, we could fire several shots at it. We were hoping the train carried a lot of boxcars. If we hit them, nothing could get hurt. Boxcars were just big moving metal targets to us. Finally, after about an hour, we heard a train coming. It "tooted" its whistle before it got to the trestle. When it pulled onto the trestle, we got excited about the fun that was about to begin. We got ready to start firing. The big engine went past the trestle, and it was pulling all kinds of cars behind it. There were boxcars, tankers, and flat cars. Then it happened. Nick let off the first shot. "Foomp!" then, "Clank!" It was a direct hit on a boxcar! What a gas! He said we needed to raise it up a little, because it hit the enemy a little low. We raised it up, set the rocks back, and fired off the second round. "Foomp!" then, "Clank!" Another hit, but about half the way up on the side of the boxcar. Then something else happened. A Hobo was standing in one of the boxcar doors, looking out into space. We said, "What the hell. What could he do about it, anyway?" So we shot a missile at him! It was a dumb thing to do. "Foomp!" then, "Clank!" We just missed him, but it hit the door next to him. He flipped us off and yelled some obscenities at us. We thought, who was doing the most illegal thing here? Of course, we all agreed that he was. Then we fired another bottle at a flat car full of metal stuff.
The Shakedown
We heard a siren and saw a couple of police cars slam on their brakes next to us. We were afraid to do anything, especially run. We had no idea they were after us. But, it was true! They were after us, and we''d been caught. Three big cops came out of the car. One of them summoned us to come over next to the building. It was like they knew they had us, and we were already guilty. However, all we could think of was the Blue Fox incident. Then it happened. The street vendor showed up, and spoke to one of the cops. We couldn''t hear what he was saying. Then, that cop approached us and told us we had drugs, and that was a crime in Mexico. Holy crap! Rich was right! That street vendor got even with us, for not buying the pills from him. He also told the cops that we bought pills from the farmacias. We were in deep shit and couldn''t imagine what would happen next. The cops split us apart and didn’t say much. They just wanted us to sweat. The biggest one told Butch and I to empty our pockets. We couldn''t hear what the other cop was saying to Don and Rich. Then, we saw them emptying their pockets. Bingo! Don had the pills and the cop took them for evidence. I started to try and converse with our cop in his language. I was scared, didn''t know the word for pills, so I decided to plead mercy. I told him we were sorry, loved Mexico and its people, and we wouldn''t abuse that privilege again. He looked at me and smiled. Then he said, "Did you boys go into a bar today?" Holy crap! He knew it was us at the Blue Fox! Butch spouted out, "We just had one drink back on the strip, about a half hour ago." He wasn''t lying, but he wasn''t telling the earlier tale. It was a smart move. They could easily verify the story by simply asking the bartender. Then, we heard another siren off in the distance. About that time, our cop ask how much money we had. I looked at Butch the same time he looked at me. We knew this was a "shakedown" and maybe we could buy our way out of it. We all pulled our money out, while the cops moved away from us. Then, we realized that we only had about one hundred dollars between us. How could we have spent so much already? We asked our cop to come over and talk. He approached us and we told him the news. He replied, "Drug possession is a federal offense. The fine is three hundred dollars." We knew we didn''t have it. We wished we''d. brought our surfboards. Maybe they would have accepted them in place of cash. Right! Like there are a bunch of Mexican surfer cops! We were had and there was nothing we could do. Not knowing what was to happen next, I could sense an air of negotiation with our cop. I spoke to him in his own tongue about life, my family, his family, and beautiful
