[ WP ] You are caught smuggling what you think is cocaine , but it turns out you were shipping bricks of flour .

Jimmy was always the brave one. He wasn ’ t the least bit shy and was never afraid to talk to anyone. 
 
 You sit in the passenger seat of the rental, a dry desert breeze brushes your face through the rolled down windows. You can ’ t hear the words, but you know there ’ s trouble. 
 
 Despite the atmosphere, your palms are soaked. You ’ re still holding the itinerary, its sopping in your shaky hands. 
 
 The plan was simple. Fly to a ‘ vacation ’ in Juarez. Get a rental, no questions asked. Drive north 120 miles, no one bothers a pair of white boys on vacation. 
 Park in the desert, no questions asked. 
 
 Then finally, backtrack to Albuquerque and fly home. The pair of you split half a million dollars. 
 
 The three hired goons burst from the black SUV parked about 30 yards away, guns raised. The ugly, squat man across from Jimmy it pointing, flailing, shouting. 
 
 You hear Jimmy ’ s words echo, “ No questions asked. ” 
 
 They open fire. Jimmy collapses. You scream. 
 
 They turn and point to you. The squat man, shouting the whole way, drags you out of the car. You can ’ t understand what he ’ s saying, despite taking Spanish all 3 years. 
 
 You sputter from broken Spanish off, saying you can ’ t understand. 
 
 He man is frantic, foaming at the word. His goons are twitchy, agitated. He repeats the words again, quaking. 
 
 “ *.. izla ’ rina* ” 
 
 You can ’ t make it out. 
 
 “ *no comprendo, no comprendo* ” you cry. Hot tears cooling your cheeks in the evaporative waning sunlight. 
 
 He drops you on the ground, spits. 
 
 The goons take up aim. 
 
 Finally, you hear his words clearly. 
 
 “ *… es la harina* ” 
 
 You choke on your on last sob in disbelief. 
 
 Your last thought isn ’ t the thunder on gunshots or the streaking pain of flesh and bone being torn apart. Its confusion. 
 
 **Why did they give us flour? ** 
 
 
 EDIT: trying to fix formatting, typos
