13th

Courtesy of Amy Zapata

Courtesy of Amy Zapata

Short Story & Photography by Amy Zapata
San Bernardino, CA

 Entering grad school, I knew I had some ideas. I knew that there were things I was interested in which had always been the subjects of my various school projects. My hometown of San Bernardino and Drag. Drag and San Bernardino. Their deeper meanings I thought about incessantly. Not sure why. I knew I had read a short story my brother wrote about my Tia Debbie, or a short story inspired by her. In the story he wrote, “a liquor store is where you buy hot Cheetos when you’re a kid, malt liquor when you’re an adult, and lotto tickets until you die.” For my siblings and I, growing up the Liquor store also meant walks to the corner without mom and dad. Little adventures shared between siblings. Holding my baby brothers’ hands as we ran across the street not wanting to go to the corner crosswalk. It meant visiting the Asian owner and saying hi and asking her about candy. It meant Spice Girls stickers and ice cream. I didn’t know the things I didn’t know. I didn’t understand about food deserts and the tienditas were touchstones in places where Trader Joes and Whole Foods would never exist. I began looking and wondering and asking. I would wake up before sunrise take my car, park, and walk down Mt. Vernon. I had seen John Humble’s series about Pico Blvd, and thought I want that, I want that light to shine on my neighborhood. I would just stare, there is still something about that light that makes me happy. I can shoot for about a good 30 minutes. Rushing between spots there is a moment that happens when the sun is rising, it is a mix of oranges and yellows, it makes everything look warm and like home. It is one of my favorite things. I remember growing up and my parents or siblings would be driving around and I would love seeing the sunset. There are things you do as a kid that seem to follow you forever. Sometimes I would stay around talk to people. They always seem to offer the same jokes, but most everyone longed for the city that once was. They would talk about their lineage to Mt. Vernon and I would speak about mine. Wondering if my grandparents maybe knew their family. I wanted to figure out what home was. Why I felt like I left but never really did. Paradise Liquor is on the corner of 16thstreet and Mt. Vernon. There is an empty storefront next to it and Gutierrez carpet is also there. Motels, liquor stores, and empty businesses converted to churches. When I was growing up, I could hear the loud church chatters. Liquor stores. Why were there so many damn liquor stores? I didn’t notice it until I started looking at my street. If you round the corner off of Highland there is one a block later, it’s Paradise, after Baseline there is one, the one that my Dad says has the coldest beers.