THE END

Click

Snap

Everything

In place

Low flying

Instruments

Of timeless

Trouble

And space

One side

Believing

And then

The other

Click

Snap

And it's

All over

                     

                         ANY OLD SHOES TO BE REPAIRED?

       ''No, really Comandante Marx, you have to leave this country environment and return to the capital, where there are many new kinds of protests going on...'' the young man exclaimed to his former professor.

         ''ANY NEW SHOES TO BE REPAIRED?'' inquired an itinerant craftsman in Spanish, in a melodious voice, in front of the house. It was met with the mooing of a cow, chewing grass there.

          ''Well, Freddy, you have your life as a lawyer now and I am a retired professor, as well as a guerilla fighter. I congratulate you, not because you are able to earn a lot of money, rather because you achieved your goal in this life and that is admirable,''the comandante explained.

         ''Yes, yes, it is admirable to jump into the sea and be able to swim in order to survive and live well. In the capital you can see luxury cars like a Maserati or a Ferrari, tooling around the streets, but I didn't become a lawyer to imitate that kind of excess. I really want to help the people who need help, '' the young lawyer related, in a voice of commitment.

       ''ANY OLD SHOES TO BE REPAIRED?''

       ''I imagine in a country where some go around in Ferraris and others barefoot, there is certainly need of assistance. Such economic extremes impede development. There are many such countries in the world today, not only on this continent, but Africa as well.''

     Comandante Marx was his nom de guerre, during his country's civil war, which lasted thirty six years. His real name was Enrique Perez and he was a pure Marxist. He learned about this philosophy first in the national university, with professors who had studied in Moscow and Havana. He majored in philosophy and graduated in three years. After that he formed groups of new students to study Marx and explained that it was the only solution in saving their country. Their meetings were infiltrated with spies, called ears and they were denounced to the military government as Communists. Many disappeared, were tortured or killed, but some escaped and one of those was Enrique Perez. After that, he had no choice, but to joint the others in the mountains.

     At first they were a small group, supplied and trained by foreigners. They spoke of Marx as their savior. It was a difficult life, but the alternative was trying to exist in a police state, which was the government. They believed that Marx was right in his claim that his philosophy was destined to change history.

      Enrique showed such knowledge and enthusiasm for the subject, that he was elected to indoctrinate the new recruits. He was so fanatic and convincing that he earned the nickname Comandante Marx.

       The foreign trainers endorsed the theory, but equally insisted that all revolutions were decided by the bullet. Thus, there was a lot of fighting. Most of it was in the interior of the country, since the capital was protected by the strength of the army, led by the general, who was also the president.

        The president was elected from the only political party of the country, backed by the American embassy.  Of course this truth was hidden, but with their assistance, the war continued. It also finished at their insistence and the real power remained in the north.

        Comandante Marx fought and survived, although he was forced into exile. He lived many years in the neighboring country, where he taught Marx in the national university. He became such an authority on the subject, that professors from other countries came to listen to him. When the peace was signed, he returned to his own country and took up the same job as a professor at his old university. He wrote books about Marx and won prizes, until he had enough money to retire and return to the village where he was born.  Now he realized that his life's theory could never be applied in a capitalistic world. In other words, he not only failed, but also waisted his life. The only consolation might have been, that it was a noble dream.

         ''Listen Comandante Marx, there are so many new protest organizations emerging today like gay rights, human rights, women rights and even peasant rights! Maybe you can even go back and live in the mountains!'' the young man proclaimed with pride, to his former professor.

         ''I thank you very much Freddy, for the invitation, because I know it comes from your heart. Maybe it's good you have something to fight for, while you're still young and enthusiastic. I know now that my visions can never be reached and therefore I have little left to live for. I made a little money to allow me to reitre in the country and this is a contradiction to the philosophy I built my life on. What irony!'' Enrique Perez, Comandante Marx, exclaimed, with a breath of pure reality.

          ''ANY OLD SHOES TO BE REPAIRED?''

 The death

Of light

And night

Prevail

Because

The darkness

Lingers on

Beyond the war

Of mighty

Empires

Or the breath

Of unborn

Wonders

Which bring

The science

Of satisfaction

To the

Human blight

Determined

To kill

The rose

And the

Soul

Of the poet's

Delight

                                             G-2

    When he moved, it was with two sticks, which he used to drag his twisted legs forward, in a most wretched fashion. His scared face was not able to show the anguish and physical pain he felt, and his eyes were too clouded to evince a cognizance of same.

    Two men saw him, but only knew who he was, while the other took some coins from his pocket and put them in the hand-weaved bag he had around his neck.

    ¨Poor guy. I wonder how he got like that...¨Jorge, the uninformed one asked.

    ¨I know, because we were in the army together, ¨Roberto, the other man volunteered.

    ¨Really?¨Jorge asked with surprise.¨What happened? I'd really like to know.¨

    ¨It's a long story...¨Roberto replied, shaking his head with regret.

    ¨Ok, I'll buy you a beer to hear it..¨Jorge offered, as they stood in front of a cantina...

    Roberto didn't need any convincing, so soon they were seated at a rustic, wooden table, with two cold beers in front of them. Roberto put lemon and salt into his beer and without looking at anything, he began: ¨It was during the time, of early years of the civil war, when the army needed more soldiers. They used to come and kidhap us when we were working in the field. The guy's name is Pedro Pac and he came from the same village as me. We were both kidnaped and thrown into trucks, without even being able to warn our parents where we were going. It was a bad time for everyone, but especially for the Indians, like me.¨ Roberto admitted, hugging the bottle with distraction...¨Anyway, Pedro and I adapted to that kind of life and Pedro did so well that he became a sergeant and that was the highest an Indian could go. We stayed together and eventually were sent to the Military Zone, which was the largest in the western part of the country. It was the center of what they called Intelligence. That's what they called it, but really it was the center for torture. That's what they did in order to extract information about who was involved in their ranks and what their plans were. The section was called G-2 and they used select soldiers to carry out the torture. It is difficult to imagine someone to be able to do that, but Pedro became one....It was a good position because you got many special privileges' and more money than a regular recruit....The G-2 occupíed a rear portion of the Milirary Zone and was supposed to be far enough away so as not to hear the sound of the screams...¨Roberto reflected with remorse...¨It was assumed there was a hidden graveyard somewhere...Anyway, they knew  most of the guerrillas came from the national university, so they decided to kidnap the president of the student union, who was named Pepe Morales....There's a bust of him, in the martyr's hall on the campus there...They never found the body...¨A voluntary respite ensued. as each of them sipped his beer and contemplated man's inhumanity to man.......¨What they would do was to go through different levels of torture, that they learned from other countries that also had intelligence centers...It would begin with something simple like death by drowning. What you do is have a barrel of water there and you keep ducking the head under it, until he feels like he's drowning, but, you always pull him back before that. It gets to the point that the guy really wants to drown and get it over with!...Then comes the burns on all parts of the body, with a red hot, metal póker...That's before the extracting of the finger and toe nails...All of this precedes the worse of the electric shocks on the genitales. No-one ever survived all that...At least none I ever heard of...¨Roberto admitted...¨So, the guerilla, university students had to get revenge, for their leader. They had spies on their side, just like we had our own. They were called ears and they found out it was sergeant Pedro Pac who carried out the execution, so he became their marked man....They caught him one day, right here in this town. He was looking for someone to take back to the Military Zone and that's when they grabbed him and left him like you saw him today. They didn't want to kill him, but leave him so that he'd rather be dead...I don't know...What do you think Jorge?¨ Roberto asked, as he finished off his beer.

    ¨Well...one has a bust of his memory on the university campus, and the other the curse of a life worse than death.¨

        AN UNPREDICTABLE LIFE

     Felix Gonzales was a minor official for the Superindependencia de Administraciones Tribunal, commonly know as S A. T. In other words, he was the tax man.

     He had held the position for twenty years andwas about to retire in December. It was already October, He was of average height, color and mentality, with a degree in accounting from the National University, where he graduated in the middle of the class. As such, he was perfect for his position. He performed his duties according to the dictates of his superiors, whether that be transparent operations or cohort swindle. Such was life, Felix reasoned, it was all quite predictable.

     In December Felix was going to get married, following a ten year engagement. He was going to be fifty in December and she was already forty. They had been together for twenty years and Felix calculated it was now time to start a family. He had purchased a piece of land, in order to build a house for the future clan and the last payment was due in December. He had paid cash, with a loan from a rural cooperative, thus cutting the interest in half, if he would have made a mortgage. The construction would begin in December, when he received the ideminization check, for his twenty years of service. In short, everything was falling into place for Felix Gonzales, who was a predictable fellow.

     Since the pandemic, he had limited his services to the public to half the time. This caused delays and serious problems, especially for the poor peasants, who lived far away. His desk was on the third floor and was regularly sanitized by a female employee, who also checked Felix every hour, with a plastic device, to see if was free from infection. Felix wore two protective face masks, covered by a plastic shield. He also wore plastic gloves. It all loaned the image of a furistic being.

     ¨Please cover your nose with your mask and wash your hands with the liquid on the desk. Do not touch the desk top and spray the papers with that other container, before you hand them to me...¨Felix explained to an older peasant, who remained subservient to his wishes. At that point he received a call from Veronica, who was shopping for the coming event, which would be the culmination of her existence.

¨Si, mi amor. What is it that you need? I am a little busy right now...¨Felix asked with a smile, before it changed to a frown, to the Indian across the desk, as he glanced through his tax expedient. He listened to his future wife a little longer and then informed her...¨You can buy all that for half the price at the Chinese Discount Store. It might not be of the best quality, but we have to stay with the budget. I'm sure you understand. A big hug and a kiss, my darling and thanks for calling,¨Felix concluded, disregarding any opposition on the matter. He was right and that was all there was to it.

     After glancing at the native's paperwork again, he shrugged his shoulders and handed him a slip of paper for another appointment, causing the old man to blanch in disappointment. He then dismissed the rest of the people waiting on wooden benches in the hallway and went to lunch.

     Felix always ate in the same place. It was a little, three table restaurant, which was part of the corner store. The food was not the best, but it was within the budget and he felt it was worth it for the soup alone.

     Now he had to lift the plastic shield and lower two face masks, before he could put the spoon in, but it was necessary and Felix was a practical man. As he ate he considered what kind of a family he should have. The average number of children was two and a half, but since he could not pregender a half, he had to settle for two. Veronica could certainly handle that and the nice thing was she could have them all for free. That was because Felix qualified for the national health program. Of course it would have been better to go to a private hospital, but that would take away the money that was destined for the construction of his new home. He was certain Veronica would understand.

     When Felix returned to his office, he felt what he thought was heart-burn and attributed it to the chile he put in his soup. He would have to watch that in the future.

     October gave way to November and the cold weather set in, in the highlands. Felix had always walked the mile to his office, all year round, but this year he felt it was causing him to experience a shortness of breath. Thus, he decided to drive his car. It was an added expense, but he could always steal a few pesos, from an unsuspecting peasant. It was nothing, compared to the amount of graft that went on, in the higher levels.

     Precisely one week, before all his earthly goals were to be met, he was suddenly awoken by a panic, due to a lack of oxygen. He had never felt this way before and in desperation called the emergency number for the bomberos, which was next to his bed. He could have called the emergency number of the private hospital, which was also there, but the firemen didn't charge anything. They took him to the government hospital, where he was immediately put on a ventilator.

     All his defenses declined quickly and within a week, he lapsed into a coma. On the third of December, the day when Felix was to fulfill his desires, he passed away from the Coved-19 virus. He became number three hundred and thirty four for the number of deaths on that day. It was all quite unpredictable.

    THE MAN THAT COULDN'T DIE

      ¨Look! Here it is! The tusa I've been trying to catch for so long...¨ my handyman, Pepe said, with his face mask hanging from one ear and a genuine grin on his dirty face and a vacant mouth

        ¨What are you going to do with it?¨I asked, observing the comical picture of this little man holding a miserable creature by the tail.

         Pepe, which is a diminutive for Jose in Latin America, stood about five foot tall. He was by no means handsome, but his ugliness was covered with dirt, as though it didn't really matter. He wore equally soiled,mended garments and presented a rumpled existence, from his battered, cowboy hat,  to the worn sandals, that covered his ageless feet. The creature he was holding, is a cousin to the groundhog, with powerful claws that can bring down a tree or an adobe wall. That was the reason that Pepe tracked down the tusa, to protect my humble abode.

          ¨I'm going to eat him. It's very good meat. Something like a rabbit, but more delicious.¨

          ¨I don't think I'd like to taste a tusa, thank you:¨I volunteered, turning my head away.

           ¨It's funny how the old boy kept avoiding my traps. It's like he didn't want to die...Something like that happened to me one time, on the coast. I wanted to die, but I couldn't,¨he confessed, altering his smile to a reflective grimace.

         ¨Sounds interesting Pepe. Why don't you come in and tell me about it. I have some drinks on the patio table. You can leave the tusa here.

         ¨Oh no Don Francisco! The dogs will eat it! I have to take it inside,¨he insisted.

         I imagined there wasn't too much difference between man and beast in this case, so I shook my head and replied:

         ¨OK, you can leave it inside the door and wash your hands in the pila.¨

         He knew where the wash basin was because he had built it, along with the rest of the house.

         We seated ourselves on either side of the table, with several octavos on top. They were filled with eighty percent alcohol. There were also lemons and glasses. I had arranged it before, because I was going to do an article for the online magazine I was writing for. This story sounded more interesting however and it proved to be just that.

        ¨So what's this story about trying to kill yourself Pepe? Why would you want to do such a thing?¨

         ¨Because of love...or really treason!¨he said, snapping off  the metal top and pouring half the octavo in his glass, He squeezed some lemons and then said..¨Salud¨

         ¨Salud ¨I countered and we touched glasses. ¨Sounds like a girl walked out on you. Who was she?¨

         ¨My wife,¨ he confessed, before taking a long swallow and exclaiming,¨Ah! that tastes good....We were on the coast because it was the time of the sugarcane harvest. Before everyone worked there for a few months, so it was nothing new. I had been married for a short time, but we already lost one child. I don't know how it happened, but you know how it is on the coast...the heat, mosquitoes...I don't know.Many people get sick and die.¨

          He said this with a sort of philosophical equilibrium, inherited by the people whom inhabited this place. The survivors of the Maya civilization.

           ¨I'm sorry to hear about that Pepe,¨I said, with sincerity.

           ¨Well, maybe that was the reason my wife became a tramp. She ended up laying with anyone in the camp. I beat her, but she didn't stop, to the point that I wanted to kill myself!¨ he declared, draining the glass and pouring in the rest of the octavo.¨What I did was to go to the field where they sprayed the insecticides. I just lay down there and let the plane fly over me. I turned completely yellow and I was certain I was going to die.¨

           ¨I can imagine Pepe. That sounds pretty desperate, but I guess you weren't successful. What happened?¨

           ¨I went back to the camp and collapsed in my tent. The woman wasn't there of course, but some friends stopped  by and took care of me. They saw what had happened and quickly bathed me and gave me some medicinal herbs to drink, but that wasn't all. They said I had to sweat it out. So, do you know what they did?¨

         ¨I have no idea,¨

         ¨Well, there was a coral with four posts and they told me I had  to run around and kick each post three times. I don't know how I did it but I did until I finally collapsed. They took me back to my tent and this caused a tremendous fever that night. In the morning, I was all right.¨

         ¨Amazing Pepe and what happened to your wife?¨

         ¨I don't know. I never saw her again after that, but some people still remember what happened and they call me...the man who couldn't die!¨he said, raising his glass and nodding his head in tribute to his former misfortune.

         ¨That's an interesting story. ¨I conceded, while I fixed up my own drink and as an afterthought asked him: ¨Do you think you'll survive this new pandemic Pepe?¨

         ¨Definitely!¨he exclaimed, and I believed him

                                      THE MAYA MURDER


           I live in a time and at a place that when I wake up in the morning and open the front door, I half expect to find a dead body there. It could have been a  victim of a drug trafficking deal or simply the result of an intoxicating brawl. The idea is the murder would be blamed on me. Fortunately, this has never happened, but when I read about the murder of Julio Pac Puac and his wife, it were as though their bodies had been thrown on my door step.

            I knew Julio first as an English student and then a collaborator with my linguistic studies, for he was a native K'iche speaker. He stood about five feet tall, dark skinned, with a large nose. He could have stepped out of the Dresden Codex.

           I remembered the trouble he had at the university, where he studied medicine. He kept failing courses and repeating the year so many times that he finally gave up and disappeared. It was by chance that I met some of his neighbors from his village and they informed me to the degree that I imagine his end was wrought like this...

          ¨Maybe I'll have a chance to attend a few patience at the clinic before we eat supper,¨  Julio suggested to his wife, as he turned on the headlights to his new Toyota.

            ¨I think you work too hard Julio,¨ his wife complained, with feigned sincerity.

            ¨Yes, but I am well rewarded for my efforts,¨he replied, unable to conceal a smile, as he felt the pleasure of such a beautiful machine, under his control.

           It was never conceived before that someone from his family linage and race, could have achieved such economic prowess. He not only had this new car, but a modern, brick house, a medical clinic and money in the bank. One could not ask for more and yet...

          ¨Ingrid wants us to go live in Switzerland for a while...¨Julio confessed as they traveled down the macadam road. that led to his village. They were returning from their monthly shopping at the main town of the department, which was still quite provincial.

          ¨But why would she want that? You are doing such  a good job here and the people love you...¨

          ¨Maybe not everybody.¨

          ¨What do you mean?¨

           ¨Ingrid believes some people know about the human transplants, that are being carried on with the help of my clinic.¨

           ¨How? A lot of your patients have returned cured after sending them to Switzerland and those that didn't return because they died of complications there, were always well compensated with money.¨

          ¨Those are the ones she's worried about.¨

          ¨Ingrid doesn't know about the life here. She doesn't understand that because you are part of these people, in language and custom, they would never believe that you would betray them.¨

           ¨Any way we would live very well there and I will have a chance to study at a German University. That's where the NGO is based and I already speak a little German. Then finally the idiots at the university here, will know that an Indian can be a doctor too!¨he pronounced with bitterness to which there was no consonance, for the idea was buried deep in his being. These thoughts accompanied them, down an untraveled road, surrounded by darkness.

                                         ******************

             A battered, well worn pick-up remained visible, a distance up then hill from the village. Two men were seated inside, armed with automatic weapons.

            ¨He will be coming along this way soon, along with his wife,¨the man at the wheel said, as he slipped down further in his seat and adjusted the woolen scarf around his neck. 

            ¨Must we kill her too?¨the other asked with lingering uncertainty.

            ¨They both know what they're doing, so they must die together,¨the first man said, who had lost a daughter at Julio's clinic. She experienced physical complications after her last child birth and they told him she must be operated on in Switzerland. She never returned. They said she had died on the operating table. They gave him money for his loss, but then he was informed from a Mexican friend, that they were part of an international organization that trafficked in selling human organs. He even showed the prices they charged over the internet. This knowledge was shared with the village elders, who pronounced that the verdict should be death. He had volunteered to carry out the mission.

           ¨It is difficult for me to understand why a man, who is one of us, would do such a thing,¨ the other man said, breaking the malignant silence his friend was experiencing.

          ¨It is greed.  Greed and pride. Look at the nice house he has, the clothes he wears and his new car! Therein lies the greed. The pride comes from the fact that he pretends to be a doctor. But he never graduated from the university. He calls his clinic ¨Angel from Heaven¨ but  he is really a devil who must be eliminated.¨ he rasped with bile. ¨They will see my pick-up in the middle of the road and think I have broken down. that will stop him and when he gets out to investigate, I will kill him. You hurry to the other side and kill the woman,¨ were his instructions.

                                           [****************

             ¨How long do you think we'll have to,live in Germany Julio?¨

             ¨A few years, but I would prefer a lifetime! I mean everything is modern there, not like our primitive country. Once you learn the language, you'll be very happy there. I guarantee you!¨ Julio proclaimed. with mounting enthusiasm.

             Presently he  noticed a pick-up stranded in the middle of the road.  He slowed down and when he approached it he identified the vehicle as belonging to a man whose daughter he had transferred to Switzerland to be operated on. He recalled she never returned. But the fellow had been handsomely compensated and they had remained on good terms, Julio knew and decided it would be good to lend him a hand.  He kept the lights on as he saw two men approaching.  He started to get out of the car, before he realized the men were armed. It was much too late for Julio Pac Puac, who answered to the call of justice...this time.