The apartment I rented appeared to be a desolate, former two-story motel that had been converted into an apartment complex with all units pre-furnished. That was fortunate for me because I didn’t have the money to spend on furniture, and the cost of rent was still affordable despite the preexisting conditions, indicating either a good market for renters, desperation of the landlord, or both. Even though I considered myself to be tested and street smart at this point, after surviving multiple violent encounters virtually unscathed, I ended up moving right into The War Zone and didn’t even realize it! After talking to some of my new coworkers about where I lived, one of them told me that it wasn’t as bad as it used to be, which could have significantly diminished its aura of terror and hazard that would naturally accompany a territory with that name. Usually I’m quick to pick up on my surroundings, but I got absolutely nothing from the place. Perhaps once again it was because I wasn’t considered a target this time, unlike everywhere else I had ever been.

Every day there were two or three people that had been shot to death, and it reminded me of the danger that was present all around me even though I could not feel it. There was one morning where I heard a few gunshots within audio range of my apartment, but I shrugged it off as just noise and continued with my day without fear. No one singled me out, and one reason could be that physically I didn’t stand out very much. I had dark hair and tan skin, like the majority of people I encountered daily. I had a full beard, and a lot of men in Albuquerque had facial hair too, but it was usually styled differently than mine. The handlebar mustache was a common sight to see, and I realized here that it wasn’t just for cartoon villains or strongmen who can bend horseshoes. For the first time, I felt like I truly belonged, and like everyone was standing on the same level and had a similar temperament to mine, but I also kept in mind what happens to those who get on the other side of people.

The Wolf continued to impress me with his stories. Not only did he claim to do 1,500 push-ups a day, but he also claimed to be able to do it in only two hours!

“It took me a long time to be able to reach that level,” he said.

There was a woman who worked in the production department of Sara Lee that he said saw him and counted the push-ups he was doing one day, but I never went to her to verify that what he said was true. For some reason I took his word for it, probably because he didn’t seem like the typical liar to me. It’s hard to imagine he would have time to do 1,500 regular push-ups at work, so I guessed that he did the quick ones, which would still be impressive considering I’ve never done more than a few hundred of any variety of push-ups. It was like The Wolf was the Push-up King and the example I didn’t know I needed to learn from. That was my main form of exercise as well, and here in a land far from home I met a stranger who was by far the most advanced push-up enthusiast I had ever met. He inspired me to take my own push-up game to the next level, no, several levels up.

Only having one real friend out here in Albuquerque who had a lot of tasks that took up most of his time such as his job and finding a place of his own to live, I didn’t have much of an active social life and made exercise one of my highest priorities. In fact, I was probably as much of a hermit as I had ever been in my life. The word desert, when used as a verb, means to abandon. While no one in this situation abandoned me, it was almost as if I had abandoned society. In my younger years, I had always considered living such a life; one where I could be far removed from the hustle and the noise of modern living. Aside from the gun violence, most people I had seen in Albuquerque seemed very laid back and unconcerned like their lives were on cruise control, but not callous or indifferent. That helped make for what I considered an ideal environment if I was to be around others at all.

The word desert, when used as a noun, has symbology associated with reflection and spiritual transformation, and one possible reason is because such transformations often occur during the quiet moments when the outside world isn’t drowning out the sound of one’s own inner voice and throwing up distractions in front of one’s true calling in life. It’s possible that this could be one such time of regrouping for me, though the thoughts of staying here, possibly even retiring here someday, began to enter my mind. The job at Sara Lee was unionized and came with a number of benefits, if I passed the three-month trial period, so it could certainly provide me with the platform to be able to do that.

Putting so much effort into my exercises, I was able to increase the number of push-ups I could do in a day by gradual increments. I went from 200 reps. to 300, to 400, until finally I peaked at 1,000. It took me about three hours, and at around 800 reps, a feeling similar to when a person’s limb falls asleep due to a lack of circulation started to be felt in my neck area. I didn’t know what exactly that sensation meant or if there was any kind of health risk associated with it, so after reaching that high point, I scaled back down to 800. In order to supply myself with the nutrients I needed to maintain such a vigorous workout regimen, I kept it very simple, alternating between pizza and spaghetti virtually every night. I didn’t have many good ideas about what to buy from the grocery store, and both were very easy to make. Occasionally I would go out to eat at a restaurant in a place where Mexican restaurants were just called “restaurants” because they were so numerous. A fast food equivalent to Taco Bell that is common out west named Del Taco was also available for on-the-go meals. Denny’s for breakfast was also within reach.

As I said earlier, over time, I began to see the other side of The Wolf from the mask he showed to most people. For some reason he seemed to trust me and began to open up to me about some extremely personal matters. I wasn’t exactly sure of the reason, but I speculate that at least one of them was because I didn’t talk more than was necessary. It’s people that talk a lot that are sometimes the people you have to be careful about revealing secrets to. Everyone wants their story told in some form to somebody, not necessarily everybody, and he decided he was going to tell his story to me. According to The Wolf, he grew up in a gang in his younger years. As often happens in gangs, he was required to prove his allegiance, and to do so, he had to “take care of” a couple of people from a rival gang. From what he told me, he did it, and had been on the move ever since.

“Back then, a lot of people used to call me ‘Smiley,’ but you know what? I wasn’t ever smilin’,” he said.

Even with his confessions, I still didn’t register him as a threat, number one, because he was honest enough to tell me about his past without me even asking, and number two, because it did not seem like he had that intention.

“I’ll be your friend,” he said during a conversation, revealing that it was likely he felt some kind of affinity towards me.

It’s possible that he sensed that I was basically alone in the world and without direction and saw someone he could possibly depend on, though his form of relations with others might be likened to a mob family, which I could never fit into despite riding with gangsters in the old days, but it was possible that my involvement could be limited, also like the old days. I mentally referred to him as “The official head of operations” at Sara Lee. When someone would challenge him, he would deal with them swiftly and capably. He told me a story of when another worker was getting disrespectful with him, and he picked him up and slammed him into a drinking fountain with no remorse, causing it to break. The employee never returned, and The Wolf walked up to the bulletin board that had a list of all employee’s names, crossed his name off the list, and wrote “Terminated” next to it. He also said he had Larry, the supervisor, in tears one day over his safety. Because of union rules, Larry didn’t have the authority to fire him after the trial period was over, and taking legal or other action could and most likely WOULD have dire consequences.

Because of how The Wolf basically took me under his wing, it was hard for me to think of him as a villain despite his past and some of his present actions. He was almost like an unhinged big brother whose extreme actions created a lot of trouble and chaos, yet you can’t sell him out because he is family. The desert has always been a harsh environment. The fact that there was cement, metal, and wood built upon it didn’t change that fact at all. Besides my old friend, The Wolf was the only ally I had in this place, and was definitely a lot more present in my life than my friend through working together. While I couldn’t accept everything he did, he was the closest thing I had to a mentor in Albuquerque, and somehow, it would have to be enough, for now.