SERVANT OF THE SCORPION – Chapter 21, Dust to Dust

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Dust to Dust


          I turned to Esmeralda and I saw Lucas shielding her from the falling earth.  The shaking stopped but the dust kept roiling.  The lantern glow turned red and the bright orb of each lantern flickered and grew dim.

          “We’re going to suffocate” screamed one of the workers.  I heard sobbing.  Everyone was coughing.

          “It’s the dust” shouted Rita, “Cover your mouth and nose with your prayer cloths!”

          Rita held her cell phone above her head and turned on its piercing blue light.  In the hellish dim she looked like the Statue of Liberty.  “Quickly.  Use your cell phones and make sure each other is OK.  Line up in your workgroups.  I’m going to call roll and then we’re getting out of here all together!”

          The camera man turned his video lights back on and swept the room like a searchlight dispersing in murky fog.  That was helpful, but I realized he was filming.

          I saw Esmeralda push herself from Lucas’ embrace, “Help the others, Lucas.  I’m OK.”

          Pastor Maximón yelled at the camera man, “Keep the light on the people so they can muster!”

          Rita knew the workgroups by heart, “Marcos’ group: Miguel”, (Here), “Rico”, (Here), “Diana” (Here)…

          The Video Director hollered to his camera man, “Over here, Bobby.  I can’t open the stairway door.”  The video light revealed the Director with his T-shirt pulled up over his nose and mouth, facing the metal door.  The door bulged inward in the fanciful shape of a forehead with horns.  There were several screams.

          I shuffled with Lucas and Esmeralda to Professor Maximón’s side.  Lucas said, “Boulders have shifted into the stairwell from the earthquake.”

          Professor Maximón lowered the prayer cloth from his mouth and I heard him say grimly, “That was no earthquake.”

          “How do we get out of here, sir?”

          “I can’t see!” shouted a worker.  Then another.  And another.  I rubbed my eyes with my dirty hands.  I was going blind with everyone else.  “It must be the dust!” said Esmeralda.  I watched Esmeralda fade from my vision.

          It was like dying.






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The Outlaw Honey Moses and THE ONE BAD HABIT OF REX RAMSEY…

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Chapter 3 – The Outlaw Honey Moses and



          Former U. S. Marshal Rex Ramsey finished pulling on his boots and he went out into the hallway of the Whisper Glory.  Honey Moses was down the hall talking with Kate Grody.  Rex went on downstairs and outside to his horse.

          He mounted up and sat there for a moment.  Pulling on his boots had made him recall the shaman woman Chonkusha.  Rex closed his eyes and waited for an omen.  A shadow fell upon his face and he opened his eyes.  He watched the hawk spiraling beside the sun.  The hawk then flew away to the southern hills.  Rex nudged his horse in that direction and he rode out of Bad Weather.

          When he had been a U. S. Marshal he had tracked the shaman woman Chonkusha.  The government wanted her for riling up the tribes.  Rex Ramsey was a sharp-shooter and a tracker and they had put him in charge of three Deputy Marshals –  Jubilee Dunbar, Clifford Austin, and Deuce Taylor – with orders to stop Chonkusha.  Chonkusha knew like Rex knew that animals are hunted by their habits.  Chonkusha eluded him and his Deputy Marshals for months.

          Still watching the hawk, Rex Ramsey rode and he would not stop until he found an auspicious campsite for the night.  He judiciously avoided habits.  He had enemies and that was one sure thing.  He owned the Whisper Glory with me and that was the second sure thing about him.  Otherwise he lived like a coyote – well, that isn’t true because a coyote has a home – he lived like the wind I suppose you might say.  He came from a direction and he went in a direction.

          Anyway, he found the shaman woman Chonkusha one day by the damnedest wisp of what we would call luck.  He saw a single glint of sunlight from some distant hills.  He ordered his deputies to stay put while he rode around those hills and then up the backside.  When he got near where he had seen the glint of sunlight he tied up his horse and he took off his boots and he walked.  Some would say he surprised Chonkusha in that cave, but not Rex Ramsey.  The way he tells it she was sitting there as calm as you please and smiled at him saying only, “Welcome, my Death”.  She gave him no fight.  And she was a fighter.

          Well, his deputies had disobeyed him and they hadn’t stayed put and they showed up soon enough.  They held their guns drawn on Chonkusha who said nothing but kept looking over at Rex.  They found her horse and they put her up on it with only her wrists tied.  On the way out Rex Ramsey rode in front with Chonkusha behind him and the three deputies behind her.

          Rex heard the pace of one of the deputy’s horses pick up and he turned to look just as Dunbar whipped the hind end of Chonkusha’s horse and made it bolt.  Austin and Taylor already had their guns drawn and shouted “Stop!  We’ll shoot!”.  Rex swears that Chonkusha was grinning as her horse fled past him.  And the deputies shot Chonkusha in the back.

          They told Rex that they had separate Presidential orders to make sure that Chonkusha would never be a problem again.  And they said the President knew that Rex Ramsey had a reputation for not shooting fugitives even if he was the best at tracking them.  When Rex confirmed those separate Presidential orders he quit the U. S. Marshals.

          Now, I knew Rex Ramsey near as well as anybody and I knew he had only one bad habit: he was in love with Honey Moses.

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SERVANT OF THE SCORPION – Chapter 20, Blessed is Nothing

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Blessed is Nothing


            Pastor Maximón opened his mouth and he spoke to the camera:

            “Science gives us the Meaning of Life.  Religion gives us the Purpose of Life.

            What is the Meaning of Life?  What is the Purpose of Life?  The two are not the same question.

            The Meaning of Life or ‘What Does All This Signify?’ is answered by the Science of Physics with the phrase ‘dynamic equilibrium’.  Hear me, beloved ones: anything is permitted in physical reality as long as it comes into existence balanced by its precise opposite.

            The Science of Physics tells us that sub-atomic particles come into existence, and can only come into existence, ‘holding hands’ you might say, as particle and anti-particle, spinning in opposite ways.  But they must instantly ‘let go of each other’s hand’ and fly apart to continue what we call ‘existence’.  When they meet again, or ‘join hands’ again, they truly vanish.  They once again become ‘empty space’, ‘nothingness’.  Or ‘No Thing-ness’, as someone once explained it to me.

            Hear me, beloved ones: This creation and destruction is happening all the time on the sub-atomic level and the sub-atomic level is the canvas upon which we are all painted.

            In the Science of Mathematics there is no difference between the phrase ‘add positive-x and negative-x‘ and the term ‘zero’.

            In other words, anything is possible in physical reality as long as it adds up to zero, to nothing.  Hear me, beloved ones:  physically we all add-up to nothing.

            So there it is: the elegant Meaning of Life.

            But why should Life exist at all?  ‘Because it can’, Science would answer.  And that is the only answer Science is allowed to give.  But Religion, the opposite of Science, now speaks to us.

            What is the Purpose of Life, the Purpose of All This?  Toward what End is All This moving?  Toward Nothingness?  Science has demonstrated that we don’t need a ‘Purpose’ to move to Nothingness.

            Is our Purpose just to survive?  Again, Science has demonstrated that we don’t need a ‘Purpose’ to survive.

            So, beloved ones, is there no Purpose?  Can we make of All This anything we want?  Our ‘Modern World’ is based on such a premise, isn’t it?  Anything goes?  ‘Do your Own Thing’ before it becomes a No-Thing?  A No-Thing along with all those magnificent, mindless, sub-atomic particles?

            When Jesus entered Jerusalem for the Passover the crowds greeted him saying ‘Hosanna’ which means ‘Liberate Us”.  They believed that he was the Messiah, come to rescue them from Roman tyranny.  But, beloved ones, I say to you that he came to liberate all of us from the mindless tyranny of a Life Without Purpose.

            And the Purpose that Jesus gave us was…”

            Suddenly the catacombs shook.  Blinding dust exhaled from between all the stones.  The lantern light shuddered on the walls like the flames of Hell.  Dirt rained down upon our heads.  There arose wails of terror.

            “Esmeralda!” I cried.






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SERVANT OF THE SCORPION – Chapter 19, The Sermon in the Basement

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The Sermon in the Basement


            In the evening all of us workers and several of the apprentice pastors were gathered together into the cloister of the orphanage.  I stayed close to Esmeralda.  So did Lucas.  We were led by Rita who was the senior apprentice pastor into a hallway and then down into a very large circular stone basement.  It was illuminated by the light of many lanterns.  I counted twelve corridors leading away from the large basement room.  We were in the back of the crowd.  There were swirls of gentle breezes, but the air smelled of moist earth.

            Esmeralda told me, “This is where Arturo’s statue of Jesus was kept before it was given to that first church, over 400 years ago.”

            Rita clapped and spoke up, “Attention, everyone.  Please.  Attention.  Pastor Maximón will join us in a moment for his sermon on this eve of Palm Sunday.  You will be interested to know that this ‘basement’ is actually the catacombs of the old estate.”

            There arose an uneasy murmur.

            Rita said quickly, “It is really a fascinating historical site which we can tour later if we so desire.”

            The girls said “Eww”, the guys said “Awright”.

            I don’t know what made me say aloud, “What about an earthquake?”

            In the ensuing silence I could hear the rustle of all the heads turning toward me.  Esmeralda looked at me with a pained expression.  I heard Lucas swear “Jesus.”

            Rita was ready for this, “People, people.  This catacomb was built to last a thousand years.  Look around you.  There has been no damage even after the most recent terrible earthquake.  In fact, this may be the safest place to be for a hundred miles around.”

            In the ensuing murmur many eyes flashed at me in the lantern light and they reminded me of the fireflies I was seeing after Garra punched my head.

            I was “saved” when the camera crew backed out of one of the tunnels while filming Pastor Maximón riding in on his motorized wheelchair.  For some reason I thought of a bullring with Pastor Maximón as the matador.  “I guess that makes you the bull,” came a thought into my head.  I looked around.  I saw the back of one head turning away from me.

            Pastor Maximón stopped upon a carpet of palm leaves and olive branches.  The camera crew stopped filming for a moment.  The director pointed the assistant forward.  The assistant placed a light behind the wheelchair for an effect of radiance.  The intricate colors and shadows of the old stone walls made an attractive back-drop.  Upon the wall directly behind Pastor Maximón was a cross made of twisted palm branches.  The director gave a thumbs-up sign and they started filming again.

            “Beloved ones,” began Pastor Maximón, “we are filming this sermon for broadcast tomorrow, Palm Sunday.  Rita will lead us in a prayer before I begin.”

            Rita bowed her head and others did the same.  Not me.  “Blessed is he who comes in the name of our Lord.  Speak to us through our Pastor Maximón this evening.  Guide his words.”  Then Rita opened one eye and caught me watching unhumbled, “Guide our hearing.  Let your message be received by all who await in faith and let it be imposed upon all who need chastising.  Amen.”






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SERVANT OF THE SCORPION – Chapter 18, Blood in the Water

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Blood in the Water


            I got a bad feeling staring through that window at those little girls.  Like the feeling I got when my father told me my mother was sick but not to worry.

            “Rosalinda, we need to get back to your Play Room right now.”

            This time I picked up Rosalinda and carried her as I retraced our steps out and down from the second floor.  To get her cooperation I held her facing forward sitting on my left arm leaning back against my chest with my right arm holding her around her waist.  “You’re flying the airplane!” I said.  I released her waist and held up my thumb, “Here’s how you steer!”.  She grasped my thumb and I made propeller noises, dipping and swerving as she turned my thumb.  Her shrieking laughter almost hurt my ears and I wondered if this was really the best way to sneak back into the Play Room.

            “Coming into the airport,” I said as we entered the Play Room.  And of course there was a crowd at the “terminal”:  Pastor Maximón in his wheelchair, Lucas, Esmeralda, Irma, and Itza.

            “Hail, Cesar,” smiled Pastor Maximón, “I see you have conquered.”

            All I could say was, “Pastor Maximón, my friends call me Alonzo.”

            Lucas muttered to me, “What friends?”

            Esmeralda pinched his arm.

            Irma put out her arms for Rosalinda and I handed her over.

            “We were just playing ‘airplane’ in the hallways,” I said as matter-of-factly as I could.  Itza smiled but the way she stared at me made me feel like blood in the water.

            Pastor Maximón said in a booming voice, “Alonzo, you are really going to feel good about today.  We are making a TV commercial that will show the good work we do here and make an appeal for support from viewers for the Mudéjar Orphanage.”

            Two men entered the Play Room with camera equipment.  “’Bout ready?” smiled the husky director wearing the Oakland Raiders baseball cap.  He gave directions to his cameraman partner about lighting and angles.  “So, Pastor, we’re going to have children all around you and you will hold the little girl with no legs on your lap.  Your wheelchair will be a nice touch, by the way.  So let’s cue the children, OK?”

            Itza went to a door at the other end of the Play Room and opened it.  Children limped, hobbled and wheeled in like a defeated army.  Itza carried little Belicia and placed her on Pastor Maximón’s lap.  Itza and the cameraman arranged the children in a semi-circle behind Pastor Maximón.

            Little Belicia began to weep.

            Rosalinda ran over, “Don’t be scared, Belicia.  Being on TV is fun.”

            “OK, kid, you gotta move,” said the director.

            “No,” said Pastor Maximón, “She will be fine.  She is Belicia’s friend and she will comfort her little nerves.”

            “You dah boss, Pastor.  Let’s try one, OK?”

            Rosalinda reached up and held little Belicia’s hand.  Pastor Maximón snuggled against little Belicia’s cheek.

            Pastor Maximón said to the camera, “Dear ones, this is little Belicia.  Isn’t she pretty?  But life has not been pretty for little Belicia.  She lost her family and she lost her legs in the recent terrible earthquake.”

            I looked at Belicia and she caught my eye.  Jesus damnation, I heard her voice in my head!  “I was mad at Mama and I ran away outside and I said I didn’t like her and the big earthquake came and my house fell down on Mama and my tree fell down on me and I want to tell Mama I’m sorry.”

            Tears began pouring down Belicia’s face as she stared at me.

            “Perfect!” I heard the director whisper.

            “If not for the generosity of you, Dear Viewers, what would become of little Belicia?  She has no family.  Where would she go?  There is no place for her except in your generous hearts.  Won’t you help the Mudéjar Orphanage to help Belicia?”  Pastor Maximón kissed her hot streaming tears.

            “And cut.”






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SERVANT OF THE SCORPION – Chapter 13, The Curandero

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SERVANT OF THE SCORPION – Chapter 13, The Curandero


            We all just stared at Irma who was sobbing on top of Garra’s limp body.

            Arturo found his wits first, “Irma, he can’t breathe.”  Irma instantly rose up on her knees and clasped her hands together in front of her face.  Garra coughed and gasped.

            “He’s choking on blood!” she cried.  Garra began to sit up but inhaled sharply and collapsed back to the floor.

            Arturo raised Irma to her feet with his big gentle hands and nudged her over to Lucas.  He bent near to Garra’s face and said with terrible calmness, “You have a shattered ribcage and will probably puncture a lung and drown in your own blood.  If you try to speak a piece of your face will fall into your lung and you will suffocate.  Stop moving.  Turn you head to the side and breathe through your nose.”

            Garra turned his head and blew a glob of blood out his nose, winced and began taking short breaths.

            Esmeralda said to Lucas, “Check the entrance to make sure Garra was alone and be careful.

            Arturo added, “And bring back a wood panel to set Garra on.  We’re going to have to move him.”

            I tried to stand up but I was instantly consumed by vertigo.  I plopped right back on my tailbone.  Arturo said to me, “You have a concussion.  Don’t move yet.”

            Lucas returned with a piece of wood panel about the size of Garra.  “Things look normal out there.”

            “What about Rosalinda?” cried Irma.

            “I got ahold of the others.  They are on their way to the orphanage right now.”

            Arturo supervised the placing of the wood panel under Garra.  Arturo lifted Garra’s head and shoulders a fraction of an inch.  Lucas lifted Garra’s torso only slightly by holding onto Garra’s belt.  Esmeralda slid the panel completely underneath him.  They all lifted the makeshift stretcher and shuffled Garra into an adjacent room.  Lucas came back for me and held me erect while I moved my feet into the same room.  There were decorative carved blocks hanging on the wall.  They had set Garra and his wood panel onto a table.  They set me in a nearby chair.

            Esmeralda said, “We need to get back.  Arturo, will you be alright?”  Arturo fluttered his hand for them to depart.

            “Alonzo, you stay here for now.  If you can stand without falling…”

            “Or puking,” added Lucas.

            Esmeralda continued, “…you can help Arturo, OK?”

            I nodded emphatically and I instantly felt like a wave had swept up my head and dropped it back down again.  “Whoa!”

            “You can believe me that we must go now!” insisted Irma.

            So I was left watching Arturo tend to Garra.  He opened a box on a nearby shelf and recited to himself, “Calahuala is very good for the broken bones and Ek’ Balam will heal the wounded blood vessels.  Chaya will help healing as well.  Bakalche’ bark will close the wounded muscles.”

            “You sound like my friend Roberto with his ‘medicinal plants’” I said.

            “Oh?  Is he a Curandero?  A healer?”

            “You might say that.”

            Arturo smiled, “Does he heal the body or the mind?”

            “You would say the mind.”


            Arturo mashed herbs in a small bowl and then added a dark liquid, “Chacah,” he said for my benefit, I guess, “A bowl of medicinal chocolate to help it all go down.”

            Garra was focused on his own fragile breathing.  I think our conversation pained him.   Arturo finally leaned over his ear and said, “Turn your head slowly and face up.  I’m going to drip some medicine down your throat.  Hold your breath when I do.  Understand?”

            Garra raised and lowered his eyebrows in acknowledgement and even that was painful for him.

            “OK.  Now” said Arturo and he slowly dripped the dark sauce down Garra’s throat.  Garra coughed.

            “I said don’t breath.”

            Arturo set the bowl down and told Garra to turn his head to the side once again and just wait.

            “Arturo, where did you learn medicine?”

            “When I was born this way,” he made a sweeping gesture with both hands, “it was expected of me.  A big fat pink-eyed albino Mayan obviously had to be tight with the gods.  It was lucky that as a child I was interested in herbs and medicines anyway.”

            “Why do you have a wood carving business if you are, like, a doctor?”

            “Doctors heal the rich.  Curanderos heal the poor in the name of Ch’ulel.  If I wanted to be rich in gratitude and dinners I would have remained only a Curandero.  But I need more than dinners.  I need dinero.”

            “Ch’ulel?  Is that God?”

            “Well, not yours.”

            “Your Brotherhood runs a church for Christ’s sake.  Do you believe in all that or not?”

            “I believe the world is uncaring.  I believe the world is indifferent to its own existence.   Mercy, forgiveness, kindness are the flowers of Man and Woman.  They are what Man and Woman alone bring into the world.  Cruelty and selfishness are already here for the taking.”

            Garra moaned drowsily as the medicine took effect.

            I said, “Arturo, I’ve met Rosalinda.  If this guy is her father, what is her mother like?”

            “Irma is Rosalinda’s mother.”


            “She was in Garra’s gang.  When Irma became pregnant she finally woke up and wanted to leave the gang life.  Esmeralda helped her and her baby Rosalinda to escape.  Irma was given a hiding place in the Mudéjar orphanage.  Esmeralda took Rosalinda to the United States.”

            “Why did she bring Rosalinda back here?”

            “That is something that Esmeralda will tell you when she is ready.”

            This was all too much for me, “Who are you people?” I asked in exasperation.

            Arturo made a face of mock indignity, “We are Christian soldiers!”

            “So where did Lucas learn to fight like that?  I’d like to learn that.”

            “Lucas was taught by Pastor Maximón.  And Pastor Maximón will be at the orphanage tomorrow.”  Arturo winked, “He’s making a TV commercial.”

            Garra groaned.

            Arturo handed me a small yellow vegetable pod, “This is for your concussion.  Chew it slowly and don’t swallow the fibers.”

            I began chewing it carefully in the front of my mouth.  It was bitter.  After a few seconds numbness began to radiate from my lips in concentric circles over my face, my head, my neck and on down my whole body.  Finally I had no bodily sensations left at all.  I felt good having no feelings.

            Then I heard myself think “The world is my body.”






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SERVANT OF THE SCORPION – Chapter 12 – The Sister of Mercy

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SERVANT OF THE SCORPION – Chapter 12 – The Sister of Mercy


            I went over and stood at the feet of the 400 year-old Jesus statue.  The others began to whisper.  I pretended that I didn’t hear.  That room was a perfect theater.

            “Well?” asked Esmeralda.

            Lucas replied, “We went to the police station but our contact wouldn’t speak to us.  He sent some other guy over and stayed close-by so he could listen.  We were told that gringos showed up last night, paid off all the right people, and took both bodies.”

            Irma added, “And I think we were followed.  I kept seeing this guy on a bicycle.”

            Lucas said, “He was probably interested in you.”

            “No,” said Irma, “I think he was un vigilante.”

            I almost broke my ‘deafness’ and asked ‘for who?’  I tried to remember if my bicyclist had tattoos.

            “Irma!” I heard someone bellow.

            We all looked toward the entrance.  A man was swaggering down to us.  As the candle light reached his face I could see concentric tattoos that looked like war paint.

            “Garra?” Irma was clearly frightened.

            Garra sneered, “You?  Hiding in a church?  Even Jesus will not forgive you.”

            “Go away!”

            “I’m here to warn you, bitch.”

            Lucas stepped in front of Irma and Esmeralda.  Arturo closed ranks with him.

            Garra growled, “Don’t be stupid!”

            Then he roared at Irma, “Rosalinda is in danger, you stupid whore!”

            “Don’t you dare touch her!”

            “Not me, bitch!  It’s your puto Carlos!”

            I ran over to become part of the shield too.

            “Alonzo, no!”

            Good.  Esmeralda was worried for me.  And I never even saw Garra punch my head.

            I realized I was on the floor against the altar.  There were halos of bright fireflies around my face.  But I could make out Lucas and Garra throwing punches.  I saw Arturo backing the women away.  Garra punched and kicked at Lucas’ groin and tried to gouge his eyes.  Lucas was blocking every blow.  Then he got a hold on Garra’s fingers and bent his hand back until I heard a crack and a scream.  Lucas whirled Garra against the altar.  He held him there and battered him in the ribcage and in the stomach.  I never saw anybody’s arm move so fast.  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom.  When Garra curled forward going limp Lucas held him up by the neck and started on the face.  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom.  Garra’s face ended-up like a bowl of menudo.  Lucas let him slide to the floor.  Garra just gurgled and wheezed bubbles of blood.

            Lucas turned to Esmeralda.  I must have been hallucinating because I heard Esmeralda say softly, “Kill him.”

            The white of one eye opened in the pulp of Garra’s face.  Irma shouted “No!” and she threw herself on him.

            “No!  He is Rosalinda’s father!”






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