Offer to Help Biden

It might have been Pablo’s friendly attitude, or perhaps Juan was just relaxing after a long day working, but the question opened Juan’s heart about some issues that had been troubling him. He'd been hearing news reports about the ongoing impeachment proceedings against President Biden for months. "They keep going after him because of his son!” Juan’s frustration poured out of him. “It’s disloyal. I think it’s like treason!”

Pablo reacted cooly to Juan’s sudden outburst but said nothing. He just dragged on his cigar, the red tip growing brighter as the length of ash grew longer, threatening to fall onto the sidewalk.

“What they’re doing to our President is not right!” Juan’s passion was etched in his features. He spit. Then, with a curse, "The guys doing it should all be in jail. We need to do something to help him out!”

Then Pablo laughed.

Juan wasn’t ready for that reaction. He’d felt instead that Pablo would be angry with him for showing disrespect. His consternation must have shown on his face because his uncle held up a hand to calm him down.

“Oh nephew!” Smoke trailed from his nostrils like some fantastic dragon of old. He wiped a mirthful tear away from his eye, “Do you really think that little sign is going to help Joe Biden get elected as the President again?”

“Why are you laughing at me, uncle?” Juan seethed, “We learned in class that voting is the responsibility of every American.”

“So, you think elections are about voting?” Pablo’s eyes narrowed. “Juan, I thought you were smarter than that.”

“Of course they’re about voting.” Walking a few steps with his uncle to a shady spot helped him relax. He leaned against the hood of his pickup, “What else would they be? Voting is how we elect the President.” Pablo leaned his bulk against the pickup too, the BIDEN / HARRIS bumper sticker creating a tenuous link between them.

“Your votes don’t make Presidents,” Pablo pulled on his cigar. The long ash at the cigar’s foot finally broke loose and landed. “I do.”

“You do?” Juan turned away to mask his pinched expression.

Juan’s reaction brought another chuckle from Pablo, “You don’t believe me?”

Juan said nothing.

“Haven’t you ever noticed that every election year, the Republicans get way ahead in the vote, and then at the last minute, all the mail-in ballots start coming in? Then the Democrats win.” Pablo pushed a fat finger towards Juan’s face. “Why do you think that is?”

Juan had never followed elections closely, but even he knew his uncle was referring to something easily observed. “I don’t know,” he confessed, “I guess it’s because the Democrats like to vote by mail, and the Republicans tend to vote in person. That’s what I heard anyway.”

“That’s what you heard?” Pablo snorted dismissively. Did you ever really think about it?”

Juan shook his head, “Not really.”

“Wouldn’t the people who have months to vote by mail get their ballots in earlier than those who wait until the last day to vote in person?” Pablo asked paternalistically, as if he were explaining to a child, “The Democrats should be ahead, and then the Republicans who vote in person should catch up with them on voting day, right?”

“I don’t know…” Juan said again, this time more slowly.

"No, Juan, no!" Pablo's own passions were beginning to show, and he seemed to grow even larger as he spoke with bold authority. "Use your head! Elections aren't about voting. Elections are a business, like any other. Votes are just the product. A vote is like a tortilla. One by itself makes no difference. The money goes to the man who can make thousands and thousands of tortillas and deliver them where they need to be at the right time."

Juan stared at his uncle, mouth agape. For the first time, he visualized elections as a business, “So… you’re the guy who delivers the tortillas?”

Pablo held his arms out wide, “There you go. Now you’re seeing it!”

“Why?” was all Juan could ask. Why would they let something illegal like this happen if it were so obvious?

“Why?” Pablo repeated sarcastically. “For the money!” He laughed again.

“So, you ‘sell tortillas’ for the Democrats?” Juan could feel the outrage growing in his breast. “Why should I even bother to vote, then? Why even be a citizen?”

“He, settle down nephew,” Pablo admonished him, “The Democrats aren’t the only dirty ones. The Republicans are just as dirty. They all know what's going on, but they turn a blind eye because it benefits them."

Juan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. I can’t believe the whole system is rigged.

Pablo grinned and winked, “That’s the way it is. Wake up, Juan. Nobody really wants anything to change.” He pulled another long drag from his cigar, “I’m putting together a new crew this year. If you really want to help Biden, I could use a guy like you.”