John C. Horst's Blog, page 32

The only thing I did was count some cards, play a good game. If you are too estupido to do the same, then you needa make a better living doing something else.

Stephen E. Lee La Charra “Gringo. The only thing I did was count some cards, play a good game. If you are too estupido to do the same, then you needa make a better living doing something else.”
“Count cards! Hah, never seen a pepper belly could count beyond ten.” He leaned forward and Maria could not see his hands. Patrons began to move away, out of the path of any lead that might fly.
The severe looking man finally spoke. “You just go ahead and put that money back, Chiquita. You can keep what you brought to the table, but leave the rest. We’ll see that those other fellows get theirs.” He looked at his partner. “Lou’s right, never seen a Mexican yet can count, never seen a Mexican yet who wasn’t a cheat.”
Maria stood up and leaned forward. She pressed her silver hideout gun against the severe looking man’s nose and cocked the hammer back. “I know how to count to five, gringo. There are five bullets in this gun but I only need one to send you to hell.” Maria glanced over at the whore who’d come to her defense. “Lady, go get my six shooters, bring them here.” The whore quickly, happily, did as she was told.
Maria holstered one and now had the other cocked and pointed at the severe looking man’s partner. “I don’ play for fun, boys. If you don’ wanna lose money, you maybe should play with matchsticks or beans. Tha’s how I learned.” She called out behind her. “Gringo barman, get aroun’ here where I can see you.” He did and now Maria slowly backed out of the bar. She made it past the skinny whore swinging above her in the cage, who was grinning broadly at the outlaw Mexicana. She kissed her palm and then blew it at Maria, looking on in delight. Maria's Trail.
Image Source ~ Stephen E. Lee

A woman did this to you, muchacho. A woman.

"La Boda" - David Tineo “Well, I have to go now, muchacho. Bye.”
“No, no.” He cried out weakly, plaintively. “A bullet.”
“Oh, no muchacho. I will not waste another bullet on you.” She got her water gourd and opened it, took a long sloppy drink with much of the water running down her chin and neck. She looked up at the sun and then down at the man who was already starting to burn. She lifted the gourd and dumped the remaining contents over her head until she was soaking wet.
“Ah, that feels good.” She reached down and, opening her shirt, exposed her breasts to him. She looked down at herself. “That little baby, she tore them to pieces, muchacho. Look at them.”
He did and could say nothing.
“Muchacho, I want you to make sure to see me. See that I am a woman. A woman did this to you, muchacho. A woman.” She breathed in and spit a huge gob onto his forehead. “There’s a drink for you if you get thirsty later, boy.” She wiped her mouth. “That’s more than you gave the little one, isn’t it?” Turning her back, she mounted Alanza and rode off. Maria's Trail
Image Source ~ CONTRERAS GALLERY

Jesus, she’s a damned menace.

She held the rod firmly, feeling the beast on the end of the line. It was thrilling. She managed to keep the rod tip up and kept the creature from sounding. The fisherman went through his kit and retrieved a sisal line. He made a loop, like a makeshift reata, and waded out toward the shark.
Rebecca found her voice and called out. “What on earth are you doing?” The fisherman smiled back at her.
“I’ll get this around his tail; we’ll hoist him in together. Now, don’t let him make a run for me, Miss. I need both my legs.”
Marta was pleased. A mistake would likely lead to the man losing his life. She liked this little game. She walked up the beach a ways and began slowly pumping the rod, reeling the great fish toward her with every crank of the handle. The animal was sideways now, looking at her with its beady eye.
These were the most ferocious sharks, the bulls. They were powerful and aggressive and did not mind fighting a human being if they had to. Marta cranked more as the fisherman closed in. At ten yards, just as the water was breaking over the creature’s back, the fisherman threw his little reata and the shark’s tail was now under his control. Marta cheered and the two began backing beachward as the shark moved sideways, nearly beached, nearly in their possession.
Curtin looked on from a hundred yards away. He was focused on the girls when he heard Marta cheer. “What the hell is she up to now?”
Del Calle looked up. He had been enjoying the various seashells and creatures cast on the beach at his feet. He looked at Curtin. “Jesus, she’s a damned menace.”
They watched as the huge shark rolled in the surf. Suddenly, it shook its head violently in one last attempt at freedom. The hook suddenly rocketed skyward, flying past Marta’s head, and the fisherman found himself thirty yards out in the water, being towed toward his beloved nets. The shark was moving fast, his powerful tail shipping back and forth trying to free itself from the line. The Mule Tamer III, Marta's Quest.
Image ~ Fashion Renegade

The whores know. They always know and they are good. You’ll never go hungry when there are whores, Maria.

Vincent Van Gogh She awoke to find food next to her bed. Juana was sitting nearby, puffing on a cigarette. “Feeling better?”
“Yes.” She looked around and then heard a party outside the room.
“Go ahead and eat, but hurry. We’ve got to get out of this room. It’s needed.”
She complied and ate and enjoyed the food. She could not understand why they were all so good to her. She regarded Juana and regretted hitting her earlier in the day. She spoke without thinking. “I’m sorry for making you bleed, Juana.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” She smiled at her. Juana had a pretty round face. “I deserved it. I shouldn’t have been so cross with you.” She brightened. “Let’s go get your things.”
“How?” She was confused. She didn’t even know where her things were. If they were in Sanchez’s shop, it would not be possible to get them. She needed to urinate again and asked Juana where to go. She handed Maria a chamber pot and turned her back. She understood her new friend required privacy.
Maria urinated and it didn’t hurt anymore.
“That medicine is a dream.”
“The whores know.” She grinned. “They always know and they are good. You’ll never go hungry when there are whores, Maria. That’s why I’m so fat.” She grinned. Maria's Trail

The padre is a good burro trader, Maria. You must thank him for that.

The old man sat down and waited for Maria to return from her room. He continued. “All little girls should learn guns. Then no one can bother them.”
With that, he placed a leather bag on Maria’s plate. She opened it and looked at the pile of coins. It was nearly as much as what she and Juana had originally been paid by the fence.
“For the asses.” He grinned. “The padre is a good burro trader, Maria. You must thank him for that.” He nodded at the fortune before her.
It was more than she ever imagined they would bring. She put the money back in the sack and they ate. The old folks were so good to her. She loved mealtime because they talked and laughed and there was always plenty of good food to eat.
Afterward, the old man helped Maria with her numbers, then they played cards.
The old woman didn’t much like it as he was teaching her all the bad games, the ones played in the saloons and gambling houses. It was not for a young girl growing up in a church to know. But the old man liked numbers and cards and saw no harm in it. He grabbed Maria’s bag of money and poured it onto the table. He counted out half for each of them and slid her pile in front of her, he took the other one.
“Now, my girl, I am going to show you how to make some money without breaking your back.” Maria's Trail

None of the family had ever stooped to the lowly realm of politics.

Thomas Nast Uncle Bob sat back, amused at the spectacle before him. None of the family had ever stooped to the lowly realm of politics. It would be interesting to see what his nephew would do. He knew this kind of thing was not to Arvel’s liking.
Arvel leaned back in his chair, took a long draw on his cigar, and looked the men over. “Well, gentlemen, it seems the Arizona Rangers will be facing danger from every corner.” The Mule Tamer

That thing you are smoking, little one, I’ve smelled better steaming dung heaps

Maria dressed for dinner and joined Alejandro del Toro on the veranda. She sat down and finished her cigar. The big man handed her a better one. “That thing you are smoking, little one, I’ve smelled better steaming dung heaps. Try this.”
She did and it was heavenly, too. She sat, barefoot and cool and more beautiful than she’d ever been in her life.  She was wearing the lovely dress and had just had a proper bath. She certainly was enjoying this Jefe and his hospitality.
“Jefe?”
“Uncle.”
“Uncle?”
“Yes, you call me uncle. I am your uncle forever.” They ate together and he began telling her the story of Alejandro del Toro but, more importantly, he told her the famous story of the beautiful wild creature who’d bested the gringos and Emilio Kosterlitzky, the most famous rurale officer of the time.
Maria was pleased. She did not know that she was famous and it tickled her to think that what she had done would make her that way. She found it all a bit of a lark. It was the easiest thing she’d ever done, evading and leading the posse on a wild goose chase, yet it seemed very important to the Jefe. No wonder he was being so good to her. Maria's Trail.
Image Source ~ Daughter of the Golden West

My God he was an annoying bastard.

Alma Mexicana Esmeralda looked on with her impish grin. She stood resolute in the doorway, the smoking revolver in her hand. “My God he was an annoying bastard.”
Marta smiled at her servant. “Esmeralda, you’ve been tricky.” The Mule Tamer III, Marta's Quest
Image Source ~ Alma Mexicana

Oh, you are a princesa, but your story is not going to have a happy, princesa ending.

Painted image of Soldadera By one o’clock he was back to her room, standing in the shadows. She did not see him there. She looked up with a start. “Adulio, you scared me.”
“Did I? I didn’t think anything scared you, princesa.”
She looked at him askance. “Princesa? Since when did you start being so jocular, and familiar, Adulio?”
“Oh, you are a princesa, but your story is not going to have a happy, princesa ending.” He stepped out of the shadows and she could see that he was holding a gun, pointed at her. She looked over at her own revolver under her pillow, too far away to reach. She always kept several guns around the room, and Adulio knew this. He held up a hand. “I will only kill you quicker if you try to fight, princesa.”
“So, you are in with Curtin?”
“Hah! Curtin, the errand boy. Curtin is not your problem. Your problem goes much deeper, my child.” He lit a cigarette and smoked. He looked angry and evil but his unsteady hand betrayed him, showed that he was not so much in control. He was terrified and she knew it.
“Why are you doing this, Adulio?”
“Because it is my right. My right!” His voice grew louder but he didn’t care, no one was around to hear him. His wife sat, like a dummy in the next room, could hear nothing, could not hear this story of betrayal.
“For half a lifetime I served that bloated pig, that worthless peon. The great Alejandro del Toro got a little jingle in his pocket, got some good clothes, got fine soaps and perfumes and looked the gentlemen. No matter of soap can wash it away, princesa, no matter of soap can wash that stain from the skin.”  He pointed at her dark complexion. “My family should have had this land. My family, pure blood that could be traced to Spain, not you Indios, you dirty worthless creatures. Cortez should have killed you all, should have spread the smallpox to every one of you. But now, finally, the revolution, the final best excuse to kill you all.” The Mule Tamer III, Marta's Quest
Image Source ~ Martha Rodriguez

I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen

Alfredo Ramos Martinez But as with everything in Maria’s life, nothing ever seemed to go as planned and on an early Sunday morning, just as a cock crowed, she awoke to strange goings on down below. She had pains that rolled over her in great waves and she felt again as if she were wetting the bed.
She managed to sit on the edge of her bed and thought about calling out to the old woman. She waited and the contractions came again. She gave birth to a little, half-sized Rosario. Her little precious one was dead.
She bundled the babe up in a sheet and climbed back into bed. She remembered what the priest said about babies born and dying before baptism, that even someone who was not a priest could baptize a baby, so she did. She wetted her fingers with her saliva and made a little sign of the cross on Rosario’s forehead. “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
She looked at every inch of her baby. She was beautiful with tiny hands and fingers and toes. She looked as if she was asleep and Maria didn’t even feel like crying. The baby had been baptized and now wouldn’t be stuck in Limbo. Maria had been baptized, too, so they’d both meet up in heaven. She couldn’t wait. Maria's Trail