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Actual Events in the Life of Isadore Baptisto III
by Isadore Baptisto


I remember it was raining all day long, only having been to the city, where the land is covered with asphalt, and concrete. Natural happenings like wind and rain are like a setting sun passing quickly, forgotten until the next one. Having picked up some whiskey, which had become my only reason to venture into the cities during those drunken times, my thoughts were not on how bad the weather was. I enjoyed walking in the rain, or just watching the little drops of water as they fell unto earth’s eagerly waiting skin. When the wind came along with strong gusts, constantly pushing against my body, this made me more appreciative of being created a human being to be able and experience this wonderous event. It made me think about what had enslaved me to alcohol. My friend, and drinking associate who met along the path, we headed back towards the reservation in his pony. The night had come but we could not see any starts, only blackness thick with doubt and wonder. Then news came from his talking box of how the roads had been flooded, every path cross a river towards family, friends, home. Only further north would it be possible for passage to the other side. But this would take hours, by then morning, and my friends day will be returning back again to the city, his place of work. After thirty minutes, and driving into several road closure barricades, it was decided a return to the city for that remaining night would be a quick way of accepting what had happen. Only my decision was to perhaps swim or find some way across in the darkness. Knowing of all roads available, we went towards one of two which were not so low as to be unable for crossing, while walking through the water. Upon approaching we saw an orange flashing light, several hundred yards away was another, which flashed on the lower bridge area. On both sides of this bridge I knew of gradual slopes, not deep dips in the road. After asking my friend to keep a light on me until reaching the flashing orange beacon on that distant bridge, I proceeded walking in a straight line. Slowly at first, it seemed quite easy, then as the muddy water reached my stomach area, my mind wanted to turn back around, but, reluctantly kept walking forward. By now there was a loud sound of water, like a waterfall makes. When looking towards the direction of flow, I saw the water slope quickly downwards towards lower land area, and remembered this road was built quite high. Having to lean in a 70 degree angle, pushing forward with each step, to equal the force of water current, and increase created by road ending, making water to run down fast. Loud like a roller coaster, my legs were pushed by mud and water. With each step I tired. Each step was slow and difficult, pulling both legs out from under me seemed like what would happen, only being able to step on the balls of my feet each time. The distance between those flashing lights felt longer than I had thought. Eventually the water got shallow, with a distant sound of rushing water. And my foot all touched bottom, no more leaning my body forward. Happy and smiling with reaching the bridge, turned towards the lights, now way across the water, waved for my friend so he’d not worry. He soon turned around and went towards the city. Exhaustion came over me, sitting there on the concrete, with just wanting to not move until sunrise, and let someone see me. But feelings of not wanting anyone be aware of me doing such a thing hit more. So the same process was repeated on the other side of the bridge. Amazingly, much faster than first side, and less distance also. After these two tiresome walks, was covered in thick mud water. My pants was just coated in mud. And, to top it off, I held my whiskey bottle above the water so would not lose it. Maybe had I not reached the other side, would not be writing this letter now. And you wouldn’t be reading this. Funny how things work out like this. Irregardless, and just the same it was a bad choice to make. Some people who do such things end up not making it. All I can say is think people, THINK when wanting to push and shove yourself into the unknown. Later.



Isadore Baptisto #60090
ASPC Yuma
Cheyenne South - 9D 12 Lower
Box 13006
Yuma, Arizona 85366-3006





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