It's all because he spoke to his sister, mi T�a Carmen, over the phone, and she told him how I left mi T�o Juan some money for fixing up the van when we went to visit them over in Laredo this past weekend. Juan is my mother's sister's husband, and he's a mechanic. So is his son, my cousin, Jr. When we got to Laredo in the clunky-ass Josephina-van, she began to sputter and fail. The brake felt weird, but I said nothing of it in order to not worry Dud and Alexis and 'Ama. But when Jr. parked the van later on that day, he came up to me quietly and murmured: "Gis, la van no tiene frenos, �sab�as?"

I looked up at him blankly. Of course I didn't know, I'm not a mechanic, even though I know the basic shit. But... no brakes? At all, at all?
Jr. shook his head solemnly. He asked me if I had checked the brake fluid before we made the trip and I told him that, yes, of course I had.
"Pues alomejor tienen aire," he mused in low tones so no one else would hear. Then he proceeded to explain gently to me all the wonders of the complexities of car brakes, and how air could've gotten trapped in there somewhere, making it seem as though the van had enough brake fluid, and yadda, yadda, yadda. To be honest, I found it quite interesting, but typing the entire thing down would prove quite tedious. He promised to tell his father so they could both check the van first thing the next day. When they did, my uncle came back with the diagnosis: there was no air in the brakes - the brake pump wasn't good anymore. In other words, I had driven long distance for hours without any brakes. Both Juanes were solemnly serious (and my uncle sounded a bit strict and exasperated at my ignorance), as they explained that we could've died at any given moment on the road. Whoa. So T�o Juan said he'd go across the border to Laredo, Tejas to buy the part at an AutoZone. I tagged along, since I had the money, and Alexis did too, since he's a mechanic as well and loves this sort of stuff. The AutoZone was closed, of course, since it was Christmas Day, and we had to return empty-handed.

Meanwhile, on my dad's side of the family, all were gathered to pray for my deceased T�o Crus (whom I still miss like hell but haven't been able to cry over). 'Apa was there too, of course, getting tanked along with my cousins, Vale and Pancho. He was too intoxicated to really notice us there, so I mentioned nothing of the problems with the van during our stay. But my uncle fixed the van up pretty well and sent us on our merry way with a nicely functioning and safe car. I lingered around him and Jr. as they changed the oil, flushed the radiator, changed the brake pump, bled the brakes, and fixed the ailing motor fan. Of course, I bought everything they'd need to fix it well, but it'd still be inconsiderate of my part to demand they do all that work for free. My father expected this of me. That's why we argued, because I payed my uncle for a job well done. What an ass.

I gave T�o Juan $100, that's it. I asked Alexis how much it would amount to, since he knows all about that shit, and I didn't want to either over- or underpay my uncle. I had asked Jr. how much it was going to be, but he merely looked down and away from me, a shy smile on his slightly blushed face. He laughed softly.
"No se, preguntale a mi 'Apa, pero no creo que sea nada."
All along, I knew this'd be his answer, and when I did ask my uncle, he stubbornly gave me the same reply: it was nothing, we were family, and he was just glad to help. He didn't want any money. But if he's stubborn, so am I, and that's when I had to resort to ask Alexis how much I should pay my uncle.
"No more than a hundred, although some pricey places might try to weasel you out of $150," he said simply. It was perfect. All I had in my wallet were a hundred bucks. But when we were driving away, I realized that I'd forgotten to pay my uncle! This was due in part to all the waving relatives on the port�n of their house, and in part to the fact that because I was so busy waving adi�s in turn, I accidently rammed into my uncle's truck. I didn't damage anything, but was embarrassed as hell. Here I was supposed to be the best driver of all my family, and I trash my uncle's truck with the van he just fixed for me! Everyone laughed it off as we drove away, but I was pretty shaken, and even more so embarrassed than anything else. How will I ever be able to look my uncle in the eyes ever again?! Gah, I'm still remorseful and shit.

The point is, I was in no mood to make a U-turn to go pay my uncle and risk ramming into his truck again. I decided to leave the money with mi T�a Carmen, since we were headed that way anyway to pick up my father. I left her the money and called my uncle from her house and made him promise to pick up the money from my aunt. We went through the whole goodbye thing again, and then we were off. Everything's been fine since then...

...until yesterday. 'Apa spoke to T�a Carmen over the phone, and she told him about how I left that money to Juan. In an outburst of typical drunken mexican machismo, he drove his ass over to our house to duke it out with me. We had a row about it, him stating that Juan still owes him money from when I was fifteen and that last May when we went over there, he charged my dad $600 to fix up the van (which I honestly believe is bullshit, my dad's just melodramatic). In the end, I told him to just shut the hell up and butt out. "�Al fin y al cabo es mi pinche dinero y yo hago con el lo que se me de la fregada gana!"