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Oceanside Pier, thirty seconds

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Get Along Home Cindy



She was a fixture at coffee, a large woman with a hearty cackle, perched on the bench outside every morning with the smokers. She sure needed the nicotine, man. She rolled into town a few years ago, think she was from Missouri, drove a sparkling clean green Volkswagen.

I got along with her well, she had an infectious southern laugh, which she displayed on a daily basis. Sang her this song 'bout every time I saw her, which was often. She sometimes sang back. Seemed a little nervous at times, a fish out of water and miles away from the home pond.

She disappeared a while ago, I thought that maybe she had died, perhaps she had been hospitalized or was convalescing, I know that for a few days she was in a wheelchair. Then there she was back on the bench recently like nothing had happened. Except she couldn't walk very well.

Tuesday was Cindy's birthday. Maybe she gave herself a present. What she did was she shot her son in law dead. Heard the cop cars scream by, didn't know where to. Folks say she went to the casino after the deed was done, then came back to Primo and had a coffee like nothing ever happened. Stashed the gun and went on with the rest of her day.

Papers say she didn't like his manner with the grandchildren. Heard he left her in town to fend for herself for interminable lengths on occasion. Perhaps there was some bad blood. Maybe she wasn't in her right mind. Maybe she was reacting to some weird meds. Maybe she had simply had enough.

Who the hell knows who was right or wrong in situations like this? Who knows what causes people to snap? I do know you don't go round killing your kin, murdering your daughter's husband and your grandchildren's' father. Not for being too strict. And when you do take the law into your own hands, you can expect to pay a big price. Who knows, maybe she would like to take it all back, but now the deed is done. Might not be seeing her for a while, if ever.
An autopsy revealed seven .38-caliber bullets in the victim's body as well as four other holes where bullets had entered and exited, Prior said.
"She (the defendant) then left the residence, tossed the gun in a nearby drainage ditch and threw the ammunition away," Prior alleged. "She then went to Denny's for breakfast, she went to Pechanga (Casino) for gambling, she went to the liquor store for cigarettes and she went to her favorite coffee shop to end her day."
Around 5 p.m. that same day, officers caught up with Cdebaca, who originally denied knowing that Eustaquio was dead and denied any involvement, Prior said.
Later that night, however, Cdebaca told police she was responsible, stating that the victim "better be dead," Prior alleged.
Cdebaca told police that she didn't like the victim and that "if he were here, she would kill him again," the prosecutor told reporters.
Get along home Cindy, Cindy. 

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Good thing she liked your singing.

I went to grade school with a kid named Tim Fiorito. All the kids called him "Frito". I was shooting hoops with him one day and got the idea to sing him the Frito Corn chips song that was playing on the air during the '60's. You remember the lyrics "I'm the Frito Bandito and I'm here to say..", etc. He didn't take to kindly to my singing the song and told me to stop. Smart ass that I was, I belted out the lyrics again, and when I got to "I get Frito Corn chips, I take them from you", he approached me and kicked as hard as he could in the balls. That was my first lesson in what has come to be known as political correctness and the last time that I sang a song to someone in public. JH

North County Film Club said...

OMG!!!!!
You actually knew her!
Have you ever met any other murderers?
Barbara

Blue Heron said...

Yes Barbara, I'm afraid she is the only murderer I know. Of course some people might not be letting on...

Anonymous said...

Speaking of murderers, might I suggest reading Blue Heron's short story "A handshake and a pastrami
sandwich". I don't think that I'll be eating pastrami anytime too soon.

Blue Heron said...

True story.

Sanoguy said...

Boy, oh boy, that's a surprise! Maybe a bigger surprise is that she was only 63!