John C. Horst's Blog, page 33

She looked up and saw the likeness of Jesus nailed to the cross, just as Juana described it. It was horrible and she wasn’t sorry that she’d not known of Jesus before.

Alfredo Ramos Martinez Maria didn’t know why, but she could not resist the pretty gold candle holders on either side of the alter. She looked around. No one was in the church. She looked up and saw the likeness of Jesus nailed to the cross, just as Juana described it. It was horrible and she wasn’t sorry that she’d not known of Jesus before. She was not certain any of this could be right. What kind of God would let his son be tortured and treated in such a way? It made no sense.
She took the candles out of the holders and set them carefully down on the big table. She’d not need them as they wouldn’t fetch a good price and they’d be cumbersome to transport to the fence. She turned and nearly ran into the tall man.
“Where do you think you’re going, little bitch?” He grabbed her by the arm and squeezed hard, hard enough to hurt Maria and leave a mark. This made her angry and she clubbed him across the head with one of the sticks. He stumbled but didn’t let go. He was a tough one.
She raised the holder high. She’d do a proper job of it this time and knock him senseless. Someone grabbed her arm from behind. She could do nothing now but wait to see what her captors had in store for her.
“Well, now.” She looked at the man behind her. He had a funny accent, one she’d never heard before. He was dressed all in black so she figured he must be a priest. The other was dressed in peon clothes. He was a worker in the church. He was bleeding profusely from the blow to his head and he was very angry at her.
“Padre, let me take her, I’ll give her to the rurales.” He sneered as he blotted the wound on his head.
“No, no.” He looked down at Maria and gave her a kind smile. “If she promises not to fight or run away, I won’t let the rurales have her.” Maria's Trail

No, this is not a good idea. They would not do well up there. They have no English and they are too dark.

Alfredo Ramos Martinez “You two could go up north.” He lit a cigarette he’d just finished rolling and then regarded the assistant who was becoming too attached to the girls. The fence was not an old man and he didn’t want the assistant distracted with young girls. Besides, he’d grown up in a house full of girls and didn’t want that right now. He continued. “With the money you two have, you could go up to Texas or even Arizona or California and live well for a while. No one will try to find you.”
Maria could see it in his eyes. She and Juana were not wanted or welcome here. She glanced over at the pretty woman, now keeping busy with something at the stove. She looked back at the man smoking. It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t like the mean man at the village, and he wasn’t like the rurale, Pendejo Pedro, and he wasn’t like Sanchez. He was just a man who did not want to take in two girls and she couldn’t fault him for that.
“Gringos are all assholes.” Juana looked at the man and then at Maria. She was pleased with herself for such a bold declaration. She sat smugly finishing the food on Maria’s plate.
“What are gringos?”
Juana laughed and looked at the man. “Maria is from the country. I think she lived under a rock. She knows almost nothing.”
The man nodded, knowingly. “The Americanos, the ones up north. They’re not all assholes, just most of them.”
The pretty assistant came back and wanted to know what they were talking about. She blew air between pursed lips. “No, this is not a good idea. They would not do well up there. They have no English and they are too dark. The Americanos don’t like Indians. Look at what happened with Custer.”
The man ignored her and stood up. “Well, maybe so.” He was not really interested in what they would do next, as long as they were not living with him. He wandered outside and left the three of them alone. Maria's Trail
Art Source ~ Tarde Croaste

“If you ever talk to them,” he pointed at the saloon, “those gringos. Tell them that I said for them to go to hell.”

Ramos Martinez “Do you know magic, muchacho?”
“No, Miss.”
“Well, it is time you learned. I’ll give you all this money if you disappear. You know how to disappear, don’t you, little one?”
“My mother says I disappear all the time, lady. I know how to disappear.”
Maria smiled. “You are a smart boy. She waved her hands in the air, like a magician. “Poof, boy. Disappear.”
He stood up and held the money in his hand. He began to trot off. “Lady?”
“Yes, my little one?”
“If you ever talk to them,” he pointed at the saloon, “those gringos. Tell them that I said for them to go to hell.” He was gone.
Maria surveyed the horses. They were very fine animals. She wished she could steal them all but knew this was impossible. Instead she walked to each and cut the cinches on every saddle. She took the fancy rifle, scabbard and all, and tied it to her saddle. She mounted up and rode down the street. She turned and, tapping her mount’s sides, got him into a canter, than a full gallop. She pulled her six shooters and fired through the saloon’s windows and kept going. She was gone.
The gringos came after her. They all, every one of them, put a foot in the stirrup and ended up on their backsides in the dusty street with a saddle in their laps. The colonel was red-faced and angry. He’d not yet fired his new rifle, and now it was gone. Maria's Trail

I am sorry, Bonita, but I am not that way.

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec They were nearly drunk by that evening and Maria wanted to go for a swim. They walked down to the shore and stripped naked. Maria did not think the woman so old looking now. She was quite pretty naked and she felt the woman looking at her again and this flattered her. She looked up to the heavens and muttered something. The assistant asked her what she’d said.
Maria stepped into the water and turning over, floated on her back. The sea was so salty that she could do this effortlessly. She was drunk enough to tell the pretty assistant what she wanted to know. She grinned and said, “I was talking to God.”
“Oh?” The pretty assistant swam up to Maria and put her hand on her head, leaned over and kissed her passionately on the lips. It was the softest, most tender kiss Maria had ever felt and she looked at the woman, then stood upright and put her palm to the assistant’s cheek.
“I am sorry, Bonita, but I am not that way.” She watched the woman’s heart break and gave her a smile. “I wish I were that way, but I am not. I would like to make God angry by loving women, but it just is not my way. I am sorry.”
The woman smiled and walked back onto the beach and dropped down upon the sand and stared up at the moonlit sky. Maria joined her.
“Why do you want to anger God?”
“Because God’s a bastard and a pendejo and an alfeñique.”
The woman laughed and stretched out on her side, resting her pretty face on her hand. “I’ve never heard anyone say such a thing.” Maria's Trail

...she could see gold teeth. This one would bring some good cash.

Vintage postcard Before he could say or do another thing, Maria was on him, the little gun she kept in a sleeve pointed at the man’s head. She fired and the lead ball slowly did its work on his brain.
He looked up, pondering what had just happened, tried to talk, tried to move, but nothing would work. Maria casually sat down beside him and watched him die. She leaned in close and regarded him. He mouthed words and she could see gold teeth. This one would bring some good cash.
They sat this way for a long time. The man still looking about, ponderously, stupidly, mouthing words that had no sound, wondering what was happening. Maria lit a cigar and smoked and blew smoke at his face. His nose wrinkled and he leaned his head back and sneezed. A great gout of blood flew out of his nose and blood and clear fluid ran from his nostrils and soaked his long moustaches, dripping onto his bean covered lap. He still said nothing. Maria's Trail

There are five bullets in this gun but I only need one...

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.
The men were not finished with Maria. One of the bouncers appeared, a big ten-gauge pointed at her head. She looked him over. “Don’ do this, gringo. They don’ pay you enough.” The man didn’t move. “Please, gringo, don’ make it so you go to hell tonight.” He remained unmoving and Maria regretted having to kill him. Maria's Trail
 Image Source ~ Psychedelicmess 

Come with me, little doll, I’ll show you.

Vincent Van Gogh ‘Sorrow’ “Señorita, tell me of one of your women here about ten years ago. She was dark but had yellow hair.”
“Ah, Lupina.” The woman put an arm around her. She reached over and kissed Maria on the cheek. “Come with me, little doll, I’ll show you.” She stopped and regarded Maria. “Now, don’t be upset. She is not well. She’s old and she’s a little addled.”
The woman took her to the very room Maria slept in those many years ago. The bed, mattress and even the covers seemed to be the same.
The old prostitute was sleeping when they walked in and Maria’s escort led her to a chair. Maria sat down and waited, falling asleep for an hour, until the bedridden woman awoke.
Maria regarded her. She was drawn in the face and Maria could tell that she hadn’t much time left. She coughed into a rag until it was bloody and Maria helped her sit up.
“Do you remember me, lady?”
She did not.
“You helped me when I was a little girl. Juana brought me.”
She brightened at hearing Juana’s name.
“The little chubby one.”
“Yes, yes.”
“Whatever became of her?”
“She died.”
“Oh, what a shame.” She coughed again. Photo Source ~ Crislee.org
 Maria's Trail

You are a very smart man!

Agustin Casasola He blushed and looked at the fire. “Oh, no ma’am. If I was smart, I wouldn’t be out here, in the middle of nowhere with a mule, looking for bits of rock.”
“You are smart, Mister.” She grabbed him by the hand. “Come with me, Mister. I want to show you something very nice.”
She took him to a spring she had discovered when she was here with Juana. The water bubbled out of the ground hot and further down there were pools that mixed with cooler water. They formed a comfortable warm bath. She stripped down to her underwear; she did not want to distract the man or give him any ideas and she was not interested in anything more than a warm swim in the pool. He smiled and did the same and they were soon swimming together and soaking and Maria could tell that it was good on his old, stiff joints.
She lit a cigar for him and stuck it in his mouth then one for herself and they smoked together and soaked and tried not to fall asleep.
Maria lay back and blew smoke at the clouds and watched the smoke drift away. “Mister, someone once told me that gringos are all assholes.”
The prospector sat up to avoid choking on his smoke. He laughed out loud.
Maria continued. “But you are not an asshole at all.” Maria's Trail

Yoo hoo, boys, what are you doing all the way over there?

Charlotte Thomson The posse finally made it to the river and began to cross. They eventually all made it. When the last man was on the bank, and they were all dripping and exhausted and taking inventory of their progress, they heard a voice, way off on the Mexican side. The pretty bandit was waving her sombrero. “Yoo hoo, boys.” She turned and began to ride away. “What are you doing all the way over there?”
Some of the men drew their guns but the colonel ordered them to stop. He raised a white flag and called back. “Please, Señorita, don’t run away. We have something for you.”
With that, the youngest and fittest rider crossed back. He handed Maria a parcel and she opened it. There was a note which she read with difficulty. Handing it to the young gringo she said, “Read this for me, please.” Maria's Trail
Photo Source ~ Charlotte Thomson Art and Illustration

But Maria, dying would not be the worst thing that could happen to you.

Ladislao Loera Suddenly a voice came from the back of the room. “I’ll tell you.”
“No!” several men responded in unison as the man stepped forward. He was a vaquero and a tough man. He was not old like the other men. He wore a six shooter and carried a big knife. He looked harsh but his eyes were kind.
“Yes, I’ll tell her.” He gestured for her to sit down. She complied. He got two more drinks and offered her one. He looked her over carefully.
“These men don’t want you to go after the bad men because they are afraid for you, Maria.” He drank and continued. “But I know you are not afraid. I know what you can do, and you should do it. Avenge them, Maria.”
“I will.”
“The men are from a band headed by a man from further south. He’s called Sombrero del Oro because he wears a big gold hat. He’s a bad one, Maria.” He looked at her with intensity.
“He trades in humans and he kills without consideration. But Maria, dying would not be the worst thing that could happen to you if they should catch you. You are beautiful and they would do many bad things to you. You know what I mean?” He nodded when she didn’t change her expression.
“I know.”
He nodded and took another drink. “I didn’t think that would dissuade you.”
“And these men. Why did they do this thing to the old woman and the old man?”
“Because they could.” He shrugged. “No reason. Because they could. You see, Maria, these men, they are not people. They are not human beings. They are some horrible creature, even worse than a loco bull or rattler. They kill for malice and for fun. No creature in the animal kingdom acts like this. And Maria, don’t hesitate. Show no mercy when the time comes. Kill them. Do not show them mercy.” Maria's Trail  
Photo Source ~ Artist Rising