The policeman humiliated a grandfather in the park without knowing that he had just handcuffed the most untouchable man in the country.
“Can’t you read?” the officer spit out, ripping the newspaper out of his hands. People like you don’t feel here.
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Eighty people were frozen.
A mother covered her daughter’s eyes.
But the girl had already seen too much.
Agent Sergio Molina threw the newspaper to the ground, grabbed Don Manuel Rivas by the collar of his shirt and pushed him against the stone bench.
“Get up. Last notice.
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Don Manuel did not scream.
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He didn’t insult.
He didn’t even raise his voice.
“Agent, I’m just waiting for my wife.
Sergio smiled with contempt.
“I don’t care if you’re waiting for the king. He’s leaving now or he’s coming with me handcuffed.
Don Manuel, sixty-two, breathed slowly.
He wore a grey vest, simple dress pants and well-lurked black shoes. It looked like any retiree who had gone out for a walk in the Parque de la Ribera, in San Miguel del Río.
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