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Completing his procedures, Guapo y Aislado ambled over to the corn crib. He had a vague rumbling in his tummy that was getting more noticeable. "Maybe I'm hungry."

Barely had he time to peck a bushel of sweet corn cobs, when Don Pedro burst into the stable opening. "Pronto! Senor Aislado", commanded he, "I'm required to deliver this special handling document without delay! Prepare yourself for a grueling afternoon for we must travel all the way to Sacre Merde!

Don Pedro certainly acted as if he were at gun-point. He didn't lead Guapo y Aislado to the carretilla but instead began to cinch on the worn saddle with but one stirrup, and that on the wrong side.

This puzzled Guapo y Aislado. He was sure today was the the day of the two suns during which he had nothing more to do than eat and sleep; between which he often got special water from Don Pedro. He remembered distinctly that yesterday was the time when Don Pedro delivered the window-front envelopes with the green paper inside. Always that meant that a day with the sun rising and falling twice would occur before he would again have to pull the carretilla.

Whenever, he was puzzled, Guapo y Aislado, would do what any smart ass would do - sit down awaiting further information. So he did, onto the foot of Don Pedro.

"Ai-yee!, you fat ass, get off of my foot!", Don Pedro screamed, "We must hurry. Nothing must delay the delivery of this document to Sacre Merde!

Guapo y Aislado shifted his weight sufficiently for Don Pedro to regain feeling in, and use of, his foot. Don Pedro grabbed at Guapo y Aislado's carrot bedecked headdress, affixing it to his poll.

Guapo y Aislado stood up.

Leapfrogging into the saddle, Don Pedro aboard Guapo y Aislado cantered away.

At a fast clip, the town of Sacre Merde! - the exclamation point's a part of the town name - was half-an-hour away. Incidentally, Sacre Merde! has an interesting history. Town records state that a Viceroy was traveling across the plain where the town now sits, when word reached him that his sovereign, Napoleon, had been defeated at Waterloo. Confused and puzzled by the revelation, he and his entourage, sat down to await further information. It was during their futile wait that a town developed around them. The town's name is a direct quotation of the Viceroy's first exclamation upon hearing the dire news.

"Madre del Dios! We certainly don't need a traffic jam when we must deliver without delay, despite the peril, this special handling document."

But traffic jam they did hit, or rather, one of Jefe Tienda's pickup trucks had hit a maverick, who like a rock, had held her ground, and now ground, she laid upon it.

The police investigation had not yet determined the ownership of the cow, nor the liability, so the smashed truck and the ancient VW bus behind it blocked Don Pedro's progress.

To his disgust, Don Pedro, could see that the driver of the truck, now in animated conversation with the investigating patrol officer, was the father-in-law of Jefe Tienda. "That man should have had his license pulled years ago.", he muttered.

It was true. Even Jefe Tienda would agree that his father-in-law should have stopped driving early in his seventies, many years ago. After all, he was mostly deaf, walked with halting steps, was unable to see well with one eye and blind in the other, but driving made him feel still part of life, still productive.

There had been a few weeks that Jefe Tienda had taken away his car's keys but Jefe's father-in-law became morose as a result.

When he was unhappy, his daughter was unhappy. When his daughter was unhappy, she wore her long, orange flannel nightgown to bed, after she put on her purple face mask cream and before she went right to sleep, usually with a headache.

Don Pedro could not stand to see his father-in-law unhappy so he donated large sums to the policemen's benevolent association fund. The sergeants, in turn, insured that the officers on patrol kept a protective blind-eye on his father-in-law's driving skills.

"Sister, it appears, praise Gaw-d, that we are delayed in traffic, praise Gaw-d, due to the unfortunate demise of one of our Lord's dumb brutes, merciful Jee-zus.

'Why don't we, sister, offer a prayer of thanksgiving, amen, that it was not our vehicle which struck the brute. Thankya Jee-zus!"

A dark-robed man alighted from the VW bus, speaking thusly, to his equally severely garbed companion.

"Amen, brother. Praise God, it was not us which bore the chariot to bring our animal sister back home. Thank-you, Jesus!

'Brother, let us prepare the afternoon repast, praise God, as we await the Lord to move among us to clear the road ahead. Amen!"

"Those people sure talk funny, Senor Aislado, but the woman, now, she's a hottie!"

And so she was. Despite a black dress extending from her neck to her ankles and down to her wrists, the crisp white apron so tightly cinched about her thin waist betrayed a tight athletic body supporting ripe firm breasts. Don Pedro's imagination drifted into lascivious thoughts of how he would feel to embrace such a body and have it, in return, embrace him. He turned to her and said, "Hey! You can't camp here. Move that car. I have a special handling document to deliver all the way to Sacre Merde!"

"Praise the Lord, brother." he said.

"Sacre Merde! Relax, bro, that's half-an-hour away.", she said.

They both approached.

"Praise the Lord, brother. I'm Hermano Santuron and this is my sister, Hermana Gazmona La Monja. We're missionaries with Pueblos Estan Preparando Para Resucitacion Eterno. Are you familiar with our movement?"

"I don't think so.", Don Pedro said thoughtfully. "I am Don Pedro Grande Entre Las Sabanas, postmaster general of Veralento, and this is my faithful steed and companion, Guapo y Aislado.

'I must ask you to move your car for nothing must delay the delivery of this special handling document to
Sacre Merde!"

"But brother, praise Gaw-D, no one can proceed until the authorities, thankya Jee-zus, moves that poor creature's remains, amen, from the roadway.", said Hermano Santuron.

"Won't you join us in a meal as we wait", added Hermana Gazmona. "Wouldn't you feel more comfortable, anyway, relieving your mount from the oppressive weight of humanity?" continued the pious Hermana, revealing a smile whose brilliance rivaled the sun such that Don Pedro was totally blinded that he should have felt insulted.
He was undeniably smitten. "Your animal seems so uncomfortable."

"Well, I suppose I could pause for a moment. Afterall, Sacre Merde! is only half-an-hour away and my animal is becoming increasingly more uncomfortable!" He dismounted on the good stirrup side. Guapo y Aislado nervously stepped side-ways to the left. Don Pedro almost tumbled onto to his own soft hindquarters but regained his balance and planted ungracefully.

Don Pedro helped the two missionaries spread a picnic blanket on the ground.

Guapo y Aislado appreciated the result of the dismount. Although Don Pedro was not as large as the alcalde, the relief from his weight, after the grueling journey to the edge of town, made Guapo y Aislado no longer feel like Atlas.

Hermana Gazmona began selecting small containers from the van.

"I couldn't help noticing", she said in Don Pedro's direction, "the beautiful headgear decorated with a carrot that your horse is wearing. Are you vegans?"

"No", replied Don Pedro, "both I and Senor Aislado, as I call him, were both born and raised here in the Aldehuela Aburrido Valley. By the way, he's not a horse. He's a jackass."

"Nonetheless, he seems very cute to me"

"What group did you say you're with?"

"Pueblos Estan Preparando Para Resucitacion Eterno, praise Gaw - D, and as such we're vegetarians and advocates of animal civil rights, Thankya, Jee-zus. Especially, male equine liberation, praise Gaw-D!"

"Perhaps, you know our group as PEPPRE's or by our famous motto, "We don't do that!"

"Why yes, I've heard of PEPPERs", smiled Don Pedro, nodding his head for emphasis. He, of course, had never heard of the group but felt it would be disrespectful to say so in the presence of such a genteel woman.

"We've got too much food.", Hermana Gazmona began opening various containers. "There's candied carrots, carrots with raisins salad, carrot soup and for desert, carrot cake. Help yourself."

"Oh, we're not that hungry. We recently ate."

Guapo y Aislado couldn't believe his ears. Here, Pegasus, had laid a feast for the gods before him and his master was showing off before some filly with false politeness. Furthermore, he couldn't believe his own stomach which was churning and rumbling more consistently.

"Can it be that I'm not so hungry? I had a good portion of jicama last night and a fair heaping of corncobs this morning, I think."

Guapo y Aislado shifted his weight from one hoof to another, to another, to another, hoping that the discomfort in his middle would abate.

"Are you familiar then with our magazine, 'Observation Post'?" Hermana Gazmona interjected, as she pulled a crudely printed on rough recycled paper document from a pocket of her apron.

"Read it all the time along my delivery route. Many residents of the valley are PEPPERs."

"I didn't know that, although everyone I know are PEPPRE's. Under the guidance of our bishop, Bishop
Mojigato El Monje, ours is the highest income crusade in the country. If I may be so bold as to ask, would you like to be a PEPPRE too?"

"Quizas, manana, but not today. I'd need more information first."

"Praise Gaw-D, then you're in luck. It just so happens, thankya Jee-zus! that we are on our way to a Praise Meeting at our sanctuary and storefront chapel next to the Cathedral, sweet Jee-zus, just five minutes from here, great Gaw-D almighty. You're invited, Amen."

"Oh, I couldn't do that today. I must hurry to Sacre Merde! with a special handling document. Nothing must delay me further."

"Please, please, reconsider.", said Hermana Gazmona, flashing her smile, "it gives me the greatest pleasure to bring a lamb to the Shepherd." She punctuated her request with a laying of hands on Don Pedro's knees directly opposite her where he sat cross-legged.

Don Pedro felt his face flush warm. "She's got her work cut out for her", he mused, "this is cattle country. There's no sheep for fifty kilometers." He also felt himself stiffening, then blushed more, embarrassed that Hermana Gazmona might notice.

"Brother, if not for yourself. Come with us, just five minutes down the road, to rest and water that poor jackass. See how uncomfortable he looks."

Guapo y Aislado was pacing dysphorically and breathing noisily.

"You're quite persuasive but it would take a miracle for us to get through this traffic jam in time or me to visit your chapel and still deliver this special handling document."

Somewhere high above, the wind blew a leafy tree branch aside permitting a shaft of golden light to fall upon Hermana Gazmona's upturned face. Then from above, there spake a voice as if thunder:

"You folks are free to pass now. We've cleared one lane for you to move around the accident." It was the voice of one of the patrol officers standing behind the seated trio.

"Blessed is the name of the Lawd. Amen. You see. Praise Gaw-D. the Lawd caused us to meet. Amen. So that you could join our Praise Meeting. Thankya Jee-us."

"I've a suggestion. You ride with us in the van and we'll tether your ass to the rear bumper. That will save time and liberate you mule."

"He's still a jackass, not a mule.", Don Pedro said with a little indignance. His demeanor quickly softened in the warmth of Hermana Gazmona' smile.

"O.K., but only for five minutes. Nothing further must delay the delivery of this special handling document."

"Now drive slowly, brother. We have an honored guest on our tail.

Hermano Santuron fired up the van, then drove away slowly in first gear only. "It's just five minutes away."

As they passed the spot of carnage, the deceased cow lay uncontentedly sprawled across the center traffic line, the father-in-law of Jefe Tienda and five or six patrol officers were laughing amongst themselves over some ribald joke. Tears welled and overflowed Hermana Gazmona's eyes. "Quickly, brother, let's get out of this painful place."

Slow, even for an ancient VW bus, is a fairly quick, not to mention sustained, gallop for a small burro's legs. Guapo y Aislado got several years' exercise during the next five minutes.

"Thank Pegasus we're finally stopping.", he brayed, as the van came to a halt in front of a storefront just to the left side of the town cathedral.

The cathedral, massive, austere, sat in sacred silence, as its' granite facing had done for centuries.

The storefront exploded with the raucous sounds of snare drum and horns, punctuated with syncopated organ riffs that increased the rate the paint peeled off its' fading facade. Over the din of music could be heard the clapping of hands, screams, moans, "Preach Brother"s and "thankya Jee-zus"s.

The sanctuary affiche said, "The Greater Apostolic Unyielding Sanctuary of Peace and Love"

Today's sermon was listed as:

"Desire Is Enlightenment"

Between the cathedral and the sanctuary an open area served as a parking lot-cum-corral. After Hermano
Santuron parked the van on one side, Don Pedro parked Guapo y Aislado, on the other, with the other transport beasts.

As the human trio entered the sanctuary door, the congregation began singing the the keynote hymn:

With the high praises of God
In our mouths
And a two-fisted sword
In our hand
We will fight for the right
In a victory march
To that good 'ole Promise Land.

The corral, it seems, was no more devoid of moral guidance than the sanctuary. Esclavo, the chattel of the Bishop was de facto head of the congregation of beasts.

Esclavo, a noble ebony colored thoroughbred horse, had distinguished himself as the first of his breed to be ridden by a bishop. Sure, through the years, there had been many a Snowflake or Ivory ridden by countless bishops, but not until Bishop Mojigato El Monje had inspired the equine liberation civil rights movement had a bishop actually had his butt cash the check his mouth had written by actually riding a dark-colored horse.

Esclavo instinctively realized that his spotlight position made his every action decisive in swaying public opinion about those of his breed. In all ways, he ran counter to stereotype. When others expected him to be lazy, he was indefatigable. When others expected him to be ignorant, he could paw the ground on command the numbers one through four. When others expected him to be weak, he could prance like a colt, with the generous weight of the Bishop, plus his saddlebags brimming with Bibles on his back. But most of all, when others expected him to be inarticulate, he could whinny with the best orators equine-dom had ever produced.

So it was on this afternoon, he had already whipped his audience into a frenzy of brays and whinnies, with his melodious measured cadences. Never one to rest on his rose-blanket, he could speak the argot of the most common draft animal or soar to the eloquence of the Queen's-own-Cavalry, if necessary. On this afternoon, his sermon topic was, "The pursuit of carrots is death!"

. . . wuz not? . . . ar departed brother . . . He Sido Ya Hecholo . . a notorious seeker of carrots? . . . and wuz not? . . ar brother-in-demise . . . brought low by the Scourge of Pegasus . . Eunuch's Disease? . . . CanIgetta witness?"

There was much braying in assent. Guapo y Aislado reared up in anguish. First, he was devastated with the news that his pal from colt-hood, He Sido Ya Hecholo was dead.

True, they hadn't crossed bridle paths in years, but Guapo y Aislado still felt a kinship. Simultaneously, though, he was seized by an abdominal cramp that almost caused him to soil his tail. As Guapo y Aislado turned to leave, he muttered, "This is crap!"

"No, it's not! Here wipe your nose. It's running." It was the soft neigh of a mare standing next to Guapo y Aislado.

"I didn't know about He Sido Ya Hecholo. The last time I saw him was years ago, when he won the third race at Course de Chevaux. What's your name?"

"Jenny. Jenny Hinny. What's yours?"

"Guapo y Aislado."

"What a melancholy name. Do you not often attend services?"

"Can't say that I do. There's not much message here for me-e-e-e!" Guapo y Aislado reared again as another cramp held him in a vice-grip.

"I think Pegasus is sending you a message, brother. You would be wise to listen closer to Brother Esclavo. You look like a guy whose been chasing carrots recently."

"Well, sure, I'm a normal burro, I was chasing a carrot just this afternoon, but I haven't actually eaten a carrot since last night and that was a protected sheathed carrot."

"It doesn't matter. Brother Esclavo says all carrots are evil temptations. Masters only give us carrots to do things unnatural to an equine. That's how He Sido Ya Hecholo got sick."

"How's that?"

"Well, how many equines do you know that naturally tie themselves to three times their weight, then drag the weight up a hill? Masters give us carrots to do that all the time.

'Or how many wild equines constantly run around in circles? He Sido Ya Hecholo did that for years. He kicked mud and dust into the faces of his brother horses many times and was rewarded by his master with more carrots than he could consume. It's said that he shared them with a mule - and you know what that means.", she said dropping her tone to a hoarse whisper.

"I refuse to believe it. He Sido Ya Hecholo was a friend of mine as a colt. He never gave a hint he would share anything with a mule!"

"Well he died of Eunuch's Disease. You do the math."

This was too much to bear - death, attacks on carrot-crunching and his friend accused of sharing with a mule. Guapo y Aislado turned his rump to Sister Hinny.

"Say, Guapo y Aislado, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation about He Sido Ya Hecholo. I agree with you as always." It was the voice of Hipocondrio, a young stallion who lived in Veralento. He and Guapo y Aislado had together gone on many carrot hunting forays. Inevitably, Hipocondrio, probably because of his regal bearing and cream-colored coat persuaded far more passers-by to give him a carrot nibble than did Guapo y Aislado. Also, inevitably, Hipocondrio would conclude their searches complaining of stomach pains from eating too many carrots and Guapo y Aislado would complain of hunger pains because his stomach was too frequently seduced by the prospect of a carrot without the satisfaction of his appetite being sated.

"What are you doing here?" Guapo y Aislado inquired.

"It wasn't my idea. My master's wife likes that people barn over there, so she made him come with her, and he made me carry him. I see you've met the bearer of my mistress, Jenny Hinny. She's a trip isn't she?"

"Well she is somewhat fanatical, but a cute filly I wouldn't mind taking a trip with." Guapo y Aislado replied with a twinkle in his eye.

"So how's it hanging, Guapo? Eaten any carrots recently?"

"Just last night, in fact. I had some of those sheath protected bunches. No taste that was good whatever."

"I know what you mean. My master dumped a bunch in my stall last night. I got so excited I thought my eyes would pop out. So I ate it; now, I hate it.

'It gave me the worse stomach ache I've ever had .. Still feeling kinda queasy .. In fact, may Pegasus strike me dead before I ever have another sheathed carrot!"

"You should be careful of what you wish for.", chimed in Jenny.

"For the equine proposes, but Pegasus disposes", Reverend Esclavo had just admonished his flock when from inside the Bishop's voice rang out, "Who here has been slain in the Spirit and Warshed in the Blood?"

Apparently, Hermana Gazmona had because she let out a blood-curdling scream, uttered a string of unintelligible sounds and fell to the floor in a faint.

Such a clear sign of the Lord moving among them got the choir to shout a litany of "He's alright"s at the top of their lungs; the Bishop commenced a hop, jump, spinning dance, and all, save a bug-eyed, and frankly panic-stricken, Don Pedro, to commence weeping, groaning, shouting and spinning.

How long that would have gone on, only the Lord knows. It certainly would have lasted longer had the bochinche of the sanctuary congregation not been drowned out by a stampede of noisy braying, neighing and whinnying, such as had never been heard in these parts before.

It seems, Pegasus had been moving among the corral. He disposed to smite simultaneously Hipocondrio
and Guapo y Aislado with gut wrenching cramps. The result, thereof, was that both reared to their hind legs together and crumpled Hipocondrio onto his side, while Guapo y Aislado stood upright but rocked back and forth with distended abdominal agony.

It should be no surprise then, all this commotion inspired Reverend Esclavo to gallop in circles around the stricken pair neighing loudly, "I command the unclean spirits leave our brethren and our corral, in the name of Our Savior, Pegasus, Amen."

Wholly spooked by these goings on, the rest of the corral fell to chaotic galloping about, whinnying and braying.

The sanctuary inhabitants cleared their hall to see the cause of the riot outside.

"I think I'm done for this time, Guapo."

"Nonsense.", said Guapo y Aislado through gritted teeth, "I'm in pain, too. But, I think it will pass for both of us. We've both had belly aches before."

Jenny raced to the side of Esclavo.

"Reverend could you lead us in a prayer?"

Esclavo exhaled a single long almost donkey-like exclamation and all the animals in the corral stood still and bowed their heads.

The humans, Don Pedro and the master of Hipocondrio, in particular were horrified to see the horse laying on the ground on its' side and the burro rocking and braying in pain, both with hugely distended abdomens.

Someone shouted, "Somebody call a vet. Get Doc Enferma out here."

"A vet. Oh Guapo! Oh Aislado! How am I suppose to afford a vet after spending all my extra money on the protected and inspected carrots? Ay Dios Mio! How am I going to deliver the special handling document?"

A revived Hermana Gazmona was at Don Pedro's side. "Listen, Don Pedro, Dr. Enferma is my mother's uncle. I'll speak to him about your jenny. As for the special handling document you must deliver, I'll have Hermano Santuron drive you to Sacre Merde! in the van while I assist Dr. Enferma here."

So moved was Don Pedro at the offer he didn't correct her error. "Muchas gracias, sister, you're too kind. I'll take up your offer for the ride. Nothing further must be allowed to delay my special handling document's delivery. Thank God, Sacre Merde! is only half-an-hour away."

As luck, the Lord, or Pegasus, would have it Dr. M. E. Enferma was passing the sanctuary heading back to his emergency animal hospital in the large camion used as an animal ambulance. He was carrying the remains of the recently departed vaca to the local carniceria so that it could be properly recycled.

Somebody flagged him down and told him of the situation in the corral. "I don't think I have room for two more patients in the ambulance.", he fretted.

After Hermana Gazmona told him of Don Pedro's financial bind, he proposed a solution.

"As I see it, both these animals have the same problem. I have room to transport but one. Therefore, I'll take the horse, make my diagnosis, then you, Senor Don Pedro, can apply the same cure to your burro. Yes?"

"A brilliant solution, Senor Doctor. By the time I return from the delivery of my special handling document, you'll be able to tell me how to cure my Senor Aislado."

So it was done. After all held hands to pray for the speedy recovery of the afflicted and anointed prayer cloths were purchased and draped over each animal, Hipocondrio was packed into the ambulance and a makeshift stall was constructed in a nearby garage for Guapo y Aislado.

To be continued.

# posted by Victor Shanti @ 12:46 AM