Behind straw curtains of the thatched roof bar, I was overlooking my shoulder. No matter how lauded the relaxation of a waterside establishment is, ebbs and flows shan’t wash away the threats of that ol’ crazed Don Salvador. I was supposed to be finding out the details on how I may accompany the little boy, but I had much more vested interest in knowing what the hell happened to start this ordeal. I wasn’t going to stick my neck on the line for nothing.

  Lamplights attached to the bar’s ceiling seemed to capture a still image of the bartender, who, in our brief exchange, I’d come to know as Mr. Isidro. His wide, balding head narrowed to downcast eyes, further to pursed lips. When patrons made their orders, mostly American or European traders, he let out his enjoyable side, passing out the creamy rums he concocted.

  After awaiting Valentina for a couple hours, and watching the delight of drinkers, I almost felt my main artery in my neck throbbing in desire to have one. I reminded myself that I shouldn’t ever consume, considering how ill-tempered it would get me.

  Soon, Mr. Isidro came to my table. “You’ve been here for hours, and you’re waiting to see if Valentina stops by? If you knew her the way I do, you’d know she may not come at all.”

  “Now, why do you suppose that?”

  “That woman makes promises she cannot keep.”

  “I hope her husband has not done her violence.”

  “After what I saw happen to him last night, I’d be surprised if he was up for it.”

  “I just got a-finished operating on his leg.”

  “You’re a doctor, are you?”

  “That’s right. Say, neither one of them has told me the details of what happened last night.”

  “I will share them. Order a drink, okay? Your table is pesos for me.”

  “I understand that it is. Tell you what.” I facepalmed. “Give me but only one of those sweet rums you been making for the white folks.”

  The rum had me smiling, and I couldn’t stop a-thinking on it. Way this lifts my spirit, can it be so wrong, and by the way, I have a spirit? Sure, haven’t felt this in a long time.

  I was ready to take on the world after a couple more. “Mr. Isidro,” I called, revealing what Bet would call my evil grin. “I believe you owe me a story.”

  “One minute,” he said, carrying a pitcher. “Let me serve the others first, so that I have more time to share the details. It gets intense.”

  When he returned, he sat across from me and leaned forward, his frown marks closing in. “What I will tell you is extraordinary but quite public. If you listen around, you’ll hear the gossip. There are local police involved.”

  “What in tarnation happened?”

  “Last night, a witch and wolf-man came in.”

  This stunned me. How’d they end up in San Marina? I heard Dunbar tell Chip with my own ears they were settling in El Sobrenatural. Had Dunbar set Chip and Diamond up on a wild goose chase?

  The man gave some of some story, served drinks, came back and gave more.

  According to his account, the incident occurred the prior night, striking chaos in San Marina. A real witch, pointed hat and black veil, came right in. To top it off, she had an upright beast in her company.

  She plopped at the bar, talked of unworldly matters. The bartender adjusted his glance when he turned to serve them. Were his eyes deceiving him?

  “Oh, that is so good,” Calamity said, after taking her first sip of rum. “I haven’t had one of these since my days on the pirate ship, back in the eighteenth century. Get Ahote one. Now.”

  Two winged, black robed men entered. From there, they watched over with folded hands. The bartender knew he couldn’t make it through them, and poured whatever she asked for. Not to mention, to whatever credit you can give a cold-hearted witch, she was paying.

  “Ahote, I am so disappointed in Hill. We have a limited amount of time with the entities at their most visible—and he’s failing to do what he sold me on. He ensured me from the beginning that he would overtake the West. I don’t know what that means to you, but to me it doesn’t mean chasing after a child.”

  Ahote growled something in her ear; his black drool slid down her pale face. She threw her lanky arm in the direction of the dark entities at the door, trembling with indignation. “I don’t care if they hear me. We won’t need them anymore, once we have more shadows turned to beasts, those like you, dear Ahote.”

  The patrons had put out their candles, attempting to hide from her. But it was clear she had the attention of all silhouettes present.

  She yelled at Mr. Isidro. “Get me another rum. Hurry. After that meeting with Hill, I need it. He’s going to have us chase after a child when we could be marching right into Mexico City, taking over the artillery, and setting up our Western capital.”

  She got herself so worked up that she stood up in fury. “You people cannot allow the reformers to force a bogus constitution on you. Join us. We’ll bestow power to all those who the governments and light entities oppress. They tell you to be weak and empathetic, while they tax you to fatten themselves up. To defeat them, you must become more vicious than them.”

  Ahote was sipping his rum, smiling with a mix of admiration and forgiveness, for he knew her to be extremely passionate. Yet, he related. After all, the shadow which formed him was fueled by a young warrior’s contempt: an opinion his father, Giant Chief, was always trading Nagawitchi rights for so called peace.

  Calamity lifted her glass, awkwardly spilling drink. “Reject that constitution. They are only setting another trap.”

  A candle lit up at a table in the far back, and the bearded patron said, “Excuse me, my name is Don Salvador, and I fought for that constitution.” The cowboy hat wearing man swayed forward, dark shawl over his shoulder, he left Valentina and a slick haired seven-year-old boy at his slab.

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  He said, “This country had been overrun by ideological, ignorant people like you. What are you supposed to be? A witch.” He gripped his holstered machete. “Don’t think so, puta. One more word, and I’ll cut your tongue out and feed it to your wolf. Wolf, it’s going to taste bitter.”

  Two more bearded men joined him, brandishing their own machetes.

  Calamity gestured them on with both hands. “Oh, bring everything you have.”

  When the fight ensued, Don Salvador came a-closer than any of us to taking her out. The edge of his weapon caught her silver locks as she ducked. Too bad, all he and his men were afforded was that one swing. Before any could try another, Ahote sped on them. The beast pawed two of them across the room, and struggled against Don Salvador for the machete.

  Don, for all his flaws fought like a soldier. Shorter and rounder than Ahote, he had as much muscle mass as fat, and more than enough will to put up a challenge. Right when Ahote would overcome him, an arrow shot out from Valentina and Don’s table. Ahote leaped out of the way, and it sunk deep into the bone marrow of Don Salvador.

  So deep, I couldn’t remove it, without performing an amputation. The young boy had aimed for Ahote, but his own legal guardian was the one who lay in a pool of blood.

  Ahote took one look at the golden arrow in the man’s leg, reached for Calamity and dove out the window, panting. He was gone in a...

  ***

  A splash hit the shore. I was stumbling on the pier, having moved on to hard antifogmatics. Mr. Isidro, who’d closed down his establishment for the night, now stood next to me in the cold night along the Pacific.

  “I guess you were right about Valentina. She never showed up,” I said.

  “I should know. I’ve had the displeasure of falling in love with her. I’m too angry a man for that flirt.” He exhaled a breath of dejection and raised his hand in a swatting motion. “Would have to give her this.”

  “Got the ol’ lovies.” I laughed. “Does she know you have them for her?”

  “She assumes all men do.”

  “Say, Don didn’t take that shot in the leg lying down.”

  “No, he didn’t.” Mr. Isidro drifted back into his story.

  Don screamed, sliding his fallen body across the wooden floor toward the boy’s direction. While his comrades inspected his impaled leg, he said, “If I die, promise me on the reformation— promise me that you will cut that boy into pieces. I hate him.”

  Across the bar, Valentina brushed her brother’s long locks. “Let’s play the hiding game, again, okay? Give me time to calm him down.”

  ***

  Just after Mr. Isidro completed his tale, he nodded. “Valentina’s coming.”

  “Hola,” I called, but what surprised me was how boisterous my quiet mannered companion became.

  “Up here on the pier, Valentina. Up here,” Mr. Isidro beckoned.

  She seemed to not acknowledge us, restraining her red dress from flowing up in the wind, but she did head up the stairs and come a-marching. “You won’t believe what Don did to me,” she said in motion.

  “Valentina, what happened? Please,” Mr. Isidro said.

  When she reached us, she turned, dropped her cape, and unzipped the top half of her dress. Fresh blood poured from two open wounds.

  “He has a cat o’ nine tails. He always complained that his crazy mother abused him with it when he was a muchacho. I never thought he’d use it on me.” She whimpered.

  I made a fist, drunk and brave enough to take on anyone. “My kit’s back at the bar.”

  ***

  “This is going to sting.” I could hardly keep a steady hand, applying carbolic acid with a gauze.

  She had her knees perched on a barroom chair; her upper body bent over the bar, back exposed.

  I stumbled rearward. She turned. “You’re in no condition to be treating anyone, and… weren’t you supposed to be helping my brother?”

  “Let me tell you the condition I’m in,” I said. “I’m in one where I won’t stand a-back and let you get treated the way the love of my life was for every day she lived. Neither you nor that boy will be. I’m going to go right up there, right now, and give that man a warning.”

  “His comrades are there. They are the ones who held me down, while he gave me two lashings, and I promise they will slice you up.”

  “I’ve dealt with worse than them.”

  “I’m saying, you better be armed,” she insisted, holding her top up, a glass of rum already in hand.

  Mr. Isidro lifted his gaze. “I have a musket, but if you kill him, do not bring this weapon back to me.”

  I stood, stumbling, lifting a finger upright. “A musket is perfect.”

  ***

  I awoke out of the drunken rage from the mere adrenaline brought on by intended violence. I had a musket aimed on a man more dangerous and capable than me, but that man was mentally broken down. “Go ahead,” he cried, high on medication. “I sent my men away. I won’t fight it.”

  Feeling my feet go numb, I looked over at Valentina with questioning eyes; halfway wanting to know what the hell I’d gotten myself into. I dabbed my handkerchief on the oil from my brow, which gave him time to continue.

  “That woman has ruined me. Never once did she give me, a soldier, respect. She has withheld consummating our marriage, and.” He clenched his teeth. “She’s laid down with other men.”

  “Don, shut up,” Valentina hollered.

  “You hear her? Shoot me, puto, before the witch returns.”

  “Witch?” I said.

  “She’s taken my cat o nine tails!”

  The door flung open with vengeance. Knocked to the ground, I glimpsed silver, black, a bitter scowl—Calamity took a swing and the nine cords swayed. I crawled away but couldn’t escape Calamity’s voice, deep as a demon; possessed with fury, she said, “Hill must have arranged us to cross paths again, and I’m gonna bugger you, Apollo. One for Aminda and my fallen Ana tribe.”

  The first blow from the nine tails came in slow motion.

  “And the rest will ‘eight’ you alive.”

  I prayed to be pardoned, but the lashes a-came, one after another, tearing my coat and skin.

  “That’s right. Beg for mercy. Commit to us.”

  “Why—m-m-me.”

  I’d crawled to the door and reached for the knob. That’s when Valentina cried out at Ahote, “You killed Don.”

  The gal had climbed the furniture to attempt an escape out the window. She even busted the glass, but the fall was too far down for her to get out.

  The beast had dug up the amputated leg and used the foot to suffocate Don. Calamity nodded in approval. “Good boy, Ahote. But wouldn’t you agree, Doc Apollo is a better chew toy to rattle around?”

  I made it out the door with them stalking behind. Ahote reached for the whip, but she declared it was hers. As she positioned her hellish weapon one more time, tears and sweat streamed all the way down to my neck. I closed my eyes, braced for the worst, and…

  A swoosh and thwack stopped the scene dead. Ahote staggered and howled in shock. With an arrow impaling his heart, the beast growled and whimpered in a mighty collapse. A- pounding of feet was the sound of the witch fleeing.

  Hands against pavement, I smelt gasoline. A trail of black blood led to Ahote’s lifeless carcass.

  Had I’d been saved?

  Tiny, spurred buckskin boots approached me. My gaze lifted on leather chaps, a tasseled, blue sapphire shirt, wet long locks, and a sizable bottom lipped stare. It was Valentina’s seven-year-old brother. He had not taken off to the shack. Instead, he stood triumphantly over me and the beast that he killed. He arched his golden bow and arrow, surveilling me under his sombrero.

  “Big Owl’s bow?” I said.

  “Get your musket, el medico.”

  He rushed into the unit. When I got in, my gun still lay where I crawled away from. Don Salvador had been choked to death with his own leg, vomit down his beard, and Valentina was hugging the boy. She pointed at the window. “The witch just jumped.”

  I limped over with my musket. This unit was way up in the courtyard, and she hopefully had a-splattered. A quiet breeze came over; Calamity was glowering down from the starless sky, her arms spread into the clutches of two dark robed, winged entities. The damned familiar rattling started up. The sound shook everything in me, and they shot off and out of sight. She was alive.

  I felt every lashing against my back. Heaving in pain, I looked in Valentina’s direction. She still had her arm around her brother. If the boy hadn’t been there, I’d have had more to say.

  Valentina gave me the coordinates to their beach shack. “You can stay there and rest up until you heal, and I’ll take care of calling the authorities on that witch. Otherwise, they’ll suspect I killed Don."