Page 33 of Hunter's Hidden Camera
Blanca says, “Neta, wey.”
Oscar then says to me, “You live in this rich, white neighborhood, so you don’t have to deal with police rolling up on you. But if you live where me and Victor and Blanca live, we deal with bullshit like this all the time. It’s a thing. Like going to the grocery store or getting your hair cut. You gotta laugh it off. Otherwise, it’d be depressing as shit.”
“I go over to your house all the time,” I say. “I’m in your neighborhood a lot. We never get harassed by the police.”
Oscar shakes his head, “Damn, Hunter, for someone so smart, you being stupid right now. I never get harassed when I’m with you because . . .I’m with you! See?You’remy protection. You’re like my Captain America shield. Of course we’re not gonna get stopped.”
“Okay, I get it.”
Victor opens his car door. “Where were you, Hunter? Are we going to the Verizon store?”
“Hang on a second,” I say.
I pull Oscar aside, out of Victor’s and Blanca’s earshot.
“Hey,” I say, “I need to talk to you about something.”
If I’m going to go confront Nash, I need an ally. And since Oscar is my best friend, it has to be him.
I know Oscar isn’t always the brightest guy, and he can be crass and embarrassing to be around sometimes, but he’s always been a solid friend, he can be funny as hell, and he’s loyal AF.
I met Oscar back in kindergarten.
When I was five, I was smaller than most of the other boys at school, which made me an easy target for kids who needed somebody to make fun of. My hair back then was shaggy and a bit long, so other boys would call me “Blondie” (my hair was lighter back then too) and tease me for looking like a girl.
One day, Joey Robertson and his gang surrounded me on the playground. They threw sand at me and taunted me with words that I’ve tried to erase from my mind. (“Little girl,” “lezzie,” “fag.”) I didn’t know what those words meant—and I’m not sure that Joey knew what they meant either—but they hurt anyway.
All of a sudden, without warning, five-year-old Oscar appeared. He yelled at Joey, “Leave him alone!” And he proceeded to swing a tree branch at the side of Joey’s face, whose ear started to bleed.
Oscar was immediately suspended from school for like a week, but when he came back we became best friends.
And as we’ve grown up, no matter how different we both have become as human beings (like, no one understands why we’re friends), our bond has remained strong.
He kept bullies away from me for the rest of elementary school. But even after I became able to stand up for myself, he was still there for me in other ways. When my cat, Pepper, diedin sixth grade, Oscar comforted me by sitting in my room while I cried and tried to cheer me up as best he could. When I broke my leg falling out of a tree in seventh grade, he actuallycarriedme to the nurse’s office. When I was overwhelmed with my upcoming written driver’s test in tenth grade, he helped me study as many nights as I asked (even though he himself failed the test three times). And through the years, he would welcome me into his home (a small apartment below the tracks), and his mom would cook for me and him to make sure we were never hungry.
“What’s up?” Oscar asks.
“I’m in a pretty bad situation right now,” I say, “and I need your help.”
“Anything, bro.”
“I need you to come with me to see my brother. I don’t think he’s staying here this weekend, so he’s probably at school.”
“Okay, yeah, I’ll tell Victor we’re going to Pomona today.”
“No,” I say. “Just you and me. Can you get rid of Victor and Blanca?”
“Yeah, okay, man. Blanca’s gonna be mad as shit, but whatever.”
Oscar moves back to the car. Victor is in the driver’s seat. Blanca is sitting in the back.
“The hell you whispering about?” asks Blanca. “You two are like sorority girls gossiping.”
“Hey, Hunter and me have some things to take care of today. It’s urgent. Victor, can you drive Blanca home?”
“I’m not going home,” says Blanca. “Where you going?”
“It’s none of your business. Now go home.”
