The Castillo Cartel: Dear Marvin

Elena

‘Dear stranger,

You don’t know me, and I don’t know you either.’

“Delete!”

My best friend, Victoria, screeched in my ears. I took another look at the laptop screen and reread my message. “Why?” I asked, confused. “What’s wrong with it?”

Victoria let out an annoyed sigh and grabbed the laptop from my lap. “You’re writing a prisoner, not a poet.” She rolled her eyes. “Have you read this guy’s charges?”

I shrugged my shoulders and read through the endless list of charges.

‘Murder’

‘Assault’

‘Drug trafficking'

I made it easier for myself and stopped the count at the third. “How is this guy even allowed on this website?” I laughed at Victoria. She scrunched up her nose and gave me a frown. “I have no idea.”

To others, it might’ve seemed crazy why I, Elena Torres, a 21-year-old, would even think of writing a prisoner, but it was easy. It was all because of a stupid bet, and now I had to hold my end of the deal and prove Victoria wrong.

Marvin Romero was my unfortunate victim. He was 25-years-old and sentenced to life without parole, he wouldn’t be coming out any time soon, or better yet—he wouldn’t be coming out at all.

Every time I stared at his picture, I had this urge to drop everything and tell Victoria that she was right and that I was a chicken who lived in my family’s shadows, but I didn’t like losing. Marvin seemed like a scary guy, and he was the exact type my dad did not want me to end up with.

That was not the issue, though, because I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, and the big and bold letters at the top made it pretty clear. ‘This is not a dating site.’

“He doesn’t really look like a poet.” I agreed as my eyes landed on his tattoos. “Would it be bad of me to say he looks like a gang member?” Tori pointed out. I tilted my head and took another look at his countless tattoos. He had only posted one picture, but I secretly hoped to see more of him. “Hmm, no—I know he has tattoos, but that’s a bit judgmental, don’t you think?”

I gathered my courage and began writing the email. It would only be a one-time thing, and I had picked out someone like Marvin Romero on purpose. Guys like him wouldn’t reply. He said it himself—he was bored, which was pretty understandable because it wasn’t like he could go anywhere.

—

‘Hi, Marvin!

My name is Lena🤗

Just like you, I’m also from San Diego.

I saw your profile on the message board and read you needed someone to talk to🤔

Guess what? I can be that someone!😯

If you would like to talk and are up for a challenge, I would like for you to solve this riddle😉

What kind of bars won’t keep a prisoner in jail?

From,

Lena.

—

“And send.” I smiled as I pressed the key. Tori let out a gasp and burst out laughing. “Jesus, Lena.” She giggled. “It looks like you’re sending a mail to a pre-schooler, and what’s up with all the emojis?”

“So?” I shrugged. “I send the email, so I won the bet, right?”

“Won what bet?” A voice suddenly spoke. I quickly closed my laptop and stood up to face my dad. George Torres.

He might’ve been my dad, but to others, he was DEA agent Torres and just for that reason, I did not want him to see how I had been spending my precious time. “Dad, you’re home!”

“Hi, Mr. Torres,” Victoria greeted him. My dad smiled at us before his eyes moved towards my laptop. “Is it something I’m not allowed to see?”

The worse thing about my dad was that he was annoyingly overprotective, just like my brother, Alex. It might’ve been strange, but coming right back home after university to work as a bartender at a cocktail bar was like a dream come true to them. It was a way for them to keep me safe and a way for them to keep an eye on me.

“Of course not. You know I don’t hide stuff from you,” I told my dad. I pulled him by his arm and led him out of my room while I looked back to stare at Tori. “Good safe.” She mouthed.

“Anyway, you’re back early—how was work?”

“A disaster.” My dad sighed as we made our way to the kitchen. I turned on the kettle to make him some tea and patiently waited to hear his story. “The case of Stevie’s murderer might get dismissed.” He shared. “The Castillo’s planted false evidence, and now they’re going after the wrong murderer, while they’ll let that scum walk free.”

“How do you know the evidence is fake?”

My dad took a deep breath and looked into my eyes. “I just know it!”

“Oh really?” I tried my hardest to sound interested. My dad and brother had this unhealthy obsession with fighting crime, and even though I was not allowed to receive all that information, my dad shared it because he wanted me to prepare myself for the real world.

It was not that crazy, considering my mom ran off and abandoned the family to live with some criminal lover when I was just five years old. We hadn’t heard from her ever since.

I understood why my dad and Alex wanted to protect me, but it was all too much.

Just when it couldn’t get any worse, my dad’s partner was murdered on a mission several years ago. Stevie Maddens was my dad’s best friend and the man who used to sit on the couch every single day, but now he was gone. My dad couldn’t handle the loss of his best friend and was obsessed with bringing these people down.

“I’m leaving.” Tori kissed my cheek. My dad looked at Tori with eyes full of worry. “It’s not because of me, right?” He asked.

Tori shook her head and gave him a side-hug. “Of course not, sir.” She spoke. “I have to get to work, but I’ll visit tomorrow!”

Tori greeted us one last time and walked out the door. At times I couldn’t believe myself and did not have a good reason why I was even jealous of my best friend, but I couldn’t help it. Tori was intelligent, beautiful, popular, and had a successful career. She worked at her dad’s law firm and was way too good to be hanging out with me. She was perfect.

We had met each other in university, and both shared the same dream, the dream to become a lawyer. Tori succeeded, while I had to deal with rejection after rejection and took the hard decision to leave my dream behind.

“Do you have work today?” My dad asked. I opened the cabinet to grab a tea bag and some sugar and reached for a cup. “I do. I’ll be home late—so don’t wait up for me.”

“You know,” My dad began. I already rolled with my eyes as I prepared his tea and knew what was about to come. “You can always stop working and let me take care of you.”

There it was.

“I’m almost twenty-two, dad.” I reminded him. “You really don’t want to do that.”

He took a deep breath. “I know, I know—I just have this fear that—“

“That I’ll run off with some criminal and leave the house?” I chuckled. “Just like my mom?”

I walked to the kitchen island and placed the cup of tea in front of my dad. “Don’t worry, Dad,” I reassured him. “I’m not going anywhere, at least not for now.”

Where did he even expect me to go? It wasn’t as if I was making millions as a bartender, and I had no idea about what I actually wanted to do with my life.

“I feel like you don’t like me anymore,” my dad suddenly spoke. I shot him a surprised look. “Why? Don’t say that.”

“You closed your laptop when I walked into the room. You were hiding something from me.” My dad concluded. “Tell me what it is. Are you with Gabriel again?”

“What? No!”

Gabriel was one of the many exes who my dad had scared away. He wasn’t that ‘friendly,’ and neither was my brother. If it were up to them, I would remain single until the very day I died. According to them, no one was good enough for me. “How could we even reunite when you scared him off.”

“Oh,” My dad spoke, flustered. “You’re right. I did scare him off.”

He took a sip from his tea and went into deep thoughts. “What could you possibly be hiding from me?” He mumbled.

Nothing, dad, the only thing I’m hiding from you is that I’ve emailed one of the people you despise the most—a felon.

“I was buying your birthday gift. It wasn’t meant for your eyes.” I teased him. Even though he was ridiculous, I couldn’t help but feel bad and didn’t want him to crack his brains over nothing. “Birthday gift?” He smiled, relieved. “I can live with that.”

“Will you be home for dinner tonight?”

“No,” I told him. “I’m working a late shift, so don’t wait up for me.”

I felt terrible for abandoning him, but he was breathing in my neck, and it was slowly getting on my nerves. I loved my dad and brother, but their overprotective behavior on top of their occupation didn’t exactly help me.

The fact that my dad and my brother were DEA agents had always embarrassed me. Whenever I told anyone that my family worked for the government, they didn’t hesitate and took their distance from me.

“Do you want me to leave you dinner?” My dad asked in a sad tone. I hated whenever he made me feel bad. “I’m good, thank you,” I turned him down. “I think I’ll be leaving early today—“

“Because you’re sick of me?” My dad joked. The unfortunate thing which he hadn’t realized was that it was the reality. I needed my space, and I couldn’t be stuck in a house with him any longer. “You got me,” I smiled. “I’m sick of you.”

Just by looking at his face, I could tell my dad probably thought I was playing along with his joke, and I was not about to ruin his fun. He gave me a wink and finished his tea in one go.

“In that case, please have a nice day at work.”

“That was the last table.” I smiled at my boss, Rona. She looked over the counter and scanned the tables with her eyes. “You’re finished. You can go home.”

“Thank you!” I nodded gratefully. I was exhausted and couldn’t keep up with the number of people who I had served for the day. We worked with eight other people, but I was the manager of this place which meant I carried the same responsibilities as Rona.

“I’ll be stuck here for a while,” Rona spoke. She wasn’t that much older than I was, and we got along well. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have the opportunity to show off my skills.

It had only been around three months since I

had started my job, but I enjoyed it here. It was better than sitting behind a desk all day, that was for sure. I was mainly here for my skills as a mixologist. I had always created my own recipes, and they always seemed to perform well.

“Do you really want me to go?” I spoke awkwardly. I hated the fact that I was such a good person, and I did not have it in me to leave her alone.

“Just go,” Rona spoke once again. “I only have to count the money, don’t waste your time and enjoy your night.”

I ignored her words and sat down. “You know you want me to keep you company!” I smirked. Rona let out a laugh. “Okay, got me.”

“You could’ve just asked so.”

“What’s the point of asking if I knew you were going to offer?” Rona commented. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it quick.”

“Don’t bother.” I calmed her down. I was not in the mood to see my dad at the kitchen table while he waited for my return. I didn’t mind staying away for a little longer. “Take your time, Rona.”

“You’re such a good person,” Rona praised me. I knew I was, but it felt good to hear it from someone else. “Maybe I can show you some of my new recipes after we’re finished.” I smiled. “Maybe you can,” Rona spoke.

“So, any new stories to share?” She asked. “What did you do today?”

“Oh, I wrote a prisoner!” I shared with her. She was an excellent person to talk to and always listened to whatever I had to say. Rona stopped what she was doing and looked at me with big eyes.

“A prisoner?”

“Yes, remember that bet I told you about?” I freshened up her memories. “Yes.” Rona nodded. “You mean your friend who called you boring and dared you to do something which your dad would never allow?”

“Yes, that one!”

“So you decided to write a prisoner?” Rona laughed out loud. “You never fail to amuse me.”

“But I won the bet.” I shrugged at the end of the day. It was all that truly mattered. I always had the urge to show everyone that I made my own rules, regardless of my dad and brother, Alex.

“How does something like that works?” Rona wondered. It was something I also didn’t know until Victoria showed me how. “You create a profile, take a look at the message board and look for someone to write,” I explained. “I chose to send an email, but you can also send a letter.”

“Crazy,” Rona sighed. “Yes, apparently, they print out the email and give it to the prisoners.”

“Sounds serious.”

“It does.”

“I chose one of the worst guys. He had a list full of crimes and was all under the tattoos—my dad would’ve dropped dead if he saw him.” I laughed. “He’s in there for murder, drug trafficking, and god knows what else.”

“Oh, no,” Rona spoke with a slight pout on her lips. “This guy probably knows what you look like—so maybe you should’ve gone for someone a little less...criminal-ish?”

I felt flattered by Rona’s concerns, but that wasn’t necessary at all. “This guy has a life sentence. He won’t be coming out anytime soon.”

“Wow, it only gets worse.”

I laughed at Rona’s over-the-top reaction. I wouldn’t be that stupid to email someone who was not on life without parole. “It isn’t as if we are going to become besties or anything. It was just a bet.”

“Who knows.” Rona shrugged. “You have a pretty face. I don’t think any guy would swipe you to the left.”

“Swipe me to the left? It’s not a dating app.” I clarified. Why would anyone willingly want to end up with someone who would not be seeing any daylight anytime soon?

“Thank god, imagine.” Rona chuckled. “But still, imagine if he actually writes you back.”

“Nah, he’s not going to write me back.” I spoke as I thought about the ‘kindergarten’ email and the childish riddle. Inmate Marvin whatever his name was, did not seem like the guy who would waste his time solving a riddle.

“Why not?” Rona continued. Unfortunately, my point did not come across. I loved living in reality, and I wasn’t ready to move out of it?

“Why would he write me back?”