Friday, June 17, 2005
Las Zanahorias: Los Sueldos De Los Pecados; Pt. 2
"'It was extremely kind of you to drive me all the way to Sacre Merde! so that I could deliver this special handling document, Hermano Santuron.'
'Think nothing of it. Praise Gaw-D. It is written, 'whatsoever you do for the least of mine, know that you do for Me.' Thankya Jee-zus!'
'Muchas gracias, I'm sure. Look, there's the address 2101 Calle Casucha. Stop here. I'll only be a minute.'
Don Pedro hopped from the van, special handling document in hand. He glanced at his watch, pleased that it being only 5:07 P.M. there would still be plenty of daylight when
he returned to the ailing Guapo y Aislado.
He rapped on the door with a knock that said THIS IS OFFICIAL GOVERNMENT BUSINESS. After a long pause and three more official rappings, an aged woman in a shawl cautiously opened the portal.
'Are you, Senor Estafaro? I have a special handling required, Federales Express catalogue for you. I need your signature here, please.'
'You mule! Do I look like a Senor anybody to you. Senor Estafaro was evicted last month for non-payment of rent. He lives in Veralento now.
During the hour Don Pedro and Hermano Santuron spent together driving back to the sanctuary, Don Pedro decided that although his companion had an odd pattern of speech, he was really quite interesting to listen to over a broad range of subjects.
It was quite dark when they finally got to the ad hoc stall of Guapo y Aislado, such that,Hermana Gazmona had to light a candle to guide the way there. In the flickering candlelight Don Pedro perceived that Hermana Gazmona's eyes were red and puffy.
'Have you been crying, Hermana Gazmona?'
'It's true. I have. I don't know how to tell you this, but I spoke to Doctor Enferma . . . Don Pedro, the horse we knew as Hipocondrio is dead.'
'Ay Dios Mio! Madre del Dio" Not Eunuch's Disease. Not my poor Senor Aislado!"
Overwhelmed, Don Pedro collapsed to his knees. The siblings rushed to console him in an embrace. However, before another word could be spoken, Guapo y Aislado, who had heard and understood all, reacted.
As he saw it, this had been the worse, and most likely the last, day of his life. He stood wracked with pain, his friend from childhood dead and called a sharer with mules, his closest buddy, who he'd just seen in his agonal moments that very afternoon, now dead, and finally, he, himself, with the same symptoms, watching the final grains of sand fall through the hourglass of his life. It was too much. If he must die, then die he would in freedom!
To Be Continued . . .
'Think nothing of it. Praise Gaw-D. It is written, 'whatsoever you do for the least of mine, know that you do for Me.' Thankya Jee-zus!'
'Muchas gracias, I'm sure. Look, there's the address 2101 Calle Casucha. Stop here. I'll only be a minute.'
Don Pedro hopped from the van, special handling document in hand. He glanced at his watch, pleased that it being only 5:07 P.M. there would still be plenty of daylight when
he returned to the ailing Guapo y Aislado.
He rapped on the door with a knock that said THIS IS OFFICIAL GOVERNMENT BUSINESS. After a long pause and three more official rappings, an aged woman in a shawl cautiously opened the portal.
'Are you, Senor Estafaro? I have a special handling required, Federales Express catalogue for you. I need your signature here, please.'
'You mule! Do I look like a Senor anybody to you. Senor Estafaro was evicted last month for non-payment of rent. He lives in Veralento now.
During the hour Don Pedro and Hermano Santuron spent together driving back to the sanctuary, Don Pedro decided that although his companion had an odd pattern of speech, he was really quite interesting to listen to over a broad range of subjects.
It was quite dark when they finally got to the ad hoc stall of Guapo y Aislado, such that,Hermana Gazmona had to light a candle to guide the way there. In the flickering candlelight Don Pedro perceived that Hermana Gazmona's eyes were red and puffy.
'Have you been crying, Hermana Gazmona?'
'It's true. I have. I don't know how to tell you this, but I spoke to Doctor Enferma . . . Don Pedro, the horse we knew as Hipocondrio is dead.'
'Ay Dios Mio! Madre del Dio" Not Eunuch's Disease. Not my poor Senor Aislado!"
Overwhelmed, Don Pedro collapsed to his knees. The siblings rushed to console him in an embrace. However, before another word could be spoken, Guapo y Aislado, who had heard and understood all, reacted.
As he saw it, this had been the worse, and most likely the last, day of his life. He stood wracked with pain, his friend from childhood dead and called a sharer with mules, his closest buddy, who he'd just seen in his agonal moments that very afternoon, now dead, and finally, he, himself, with the same symptoms, watching the final grains of sand fall through the hourglass of his life. It was too much. If he must die, then die he would in freedom!
To Be Continued . . .
# posted by fablespinners @ 9:32 PM 
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