¡Ya viene the elotero!

By Enrique Haro-Villa (He/Him)

Content Warning: some profanity

Exterior. It’s sunset hour and the sky has its pinkish tones. A row of single family homes lines one side of the street and apartments on the other side. It’s a quiet street, but you can hear the cars zooming by at the cross street down the block.

Rene, Ivan, Dani and Alex are sitting on a street curve. They’re all about the same age, between 11-13, with Alex being the youngest and Ivan being the oldest. All of them have their shirts drenched in sweat from playing soccer and each is giving an exciting recap of their game time performance. 

IVAN

(Pointing with his hands)

You can’t stop me, man. I’m like Ronaldo. I’ve got crazy moves. Shit, I might go pro if I really want to.   

This summer has been hotter than usual, you could tell because the pavement quickly burns their hands as soon as they put their palms down onto it. The evening breeze is blowing and some of that ocean coolness comes with it. The “perks” of living by the beach. Dinner is around the corner, but none of them know what their Ama’s may or may not have. 

Dani

(looking down at their dirty and semi-torn shoes)

Anyways, I’m getting hungry. 

RENE

(Looking at the street lights flickering) 

Ivan, bet mom calls us soon. 

IVAN

(Turns to Rene)Yup! She's making enchiladas.

RENE

(quickly turns to Ivan)

For reals?!

Rene’s face lit up with joy - clearly his favorite dish. This was Ivan’s usual comment, last time he mentioned his Ama’s chiles rellenos, the time before that was ceviche. It was obvious that he took pride in making that known to everyone. 

Alex shrugs and quickly changes the conversation. He seems uncomfortable. He doesn’t like to talk about food. Never has. 

ALEX

(Grabs the soccer ball and kicks it to Ivan)

One more! Losers buy elotes. But hurry up, they’re almost here!

Alex didn’t have the same luck as Ivan and Rene. There wasn’t going to be a favorite dish that he could also shout competitively against Ivan’s. No, “my Ama is making…” THIS is Alex’s way of guaranteeing he eats something. So you know he’s going to give it his all. 

Dani

Bet! 

RENE

(Checks his pockets for confirmation)

Okay, let’s do it! 

IVAN

(Turns to Rene and gives him a head nod with a slight smirk on his face)

Ivan and Rene went to one side of the street and Dani and Alex teamed up on the other side. This was the championship game. It was all or nothing. The trophy placed on a wooden stick, smothered with crema y queso and chili powder that gives it that extra kick, but always makes Dani get a runny nose. 

The wind had just started drying up their sweat from the last game, but they were ready for this final match. The street lights were fully on by now with just a bit of daylight left before that final whistle blew - “ya metanse que ya es tarde!” gritos from each of their home’s doorsteps. 

At a distance you could hear the horn from the elotero. It was more of a squeaking sound. Louder as they got closer to the corner of the street after selling to the kids on the other block. The persistent and in a way, harmonic, 🎶 “eeelllooottteess, raasspaaddosss” 🎶 carried in the wind like the chants in a stadium. They knew the menu by heart: elotes con crema y queso and the chili powder, churros con limon y chile, sometimes they even had mango on a stick. The elotero would peel off the mango skin, cut thin slices into its sides like some three star Michelin sushi chef, and spray it with lime juice and gently sprinkle chili powder on it. The stakes were high! 

RENE

(Finished setting up his hat and a sweater about 4 big steps apart to indicate the goalpost)

Ready? First to three wins! 

ALEX

I can already taste the queso! 

IVAN

(Laughing at the trash talk)

Hurry up, the elotero is almost on our block!

Dani

(Laughing with Alex)

We’re gonna eat good tonight! 

End Scene. 

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Enrique is a local Pomona artist and activist. His passion is in photography and storytelling. Originally from Long Beach, CA, Enrique has embraced the art of storytelling as a form of resilience.