PEG BOY (13 page)

By morning the
ground was covered with new-fallen snow. The fire was stoked and the men warmed
themselves. Santiago was dragged from the tent and given his father’s clothing.
When asked what they had done with the body, Lucien struck him across the face.
The body was not in sight. While roasting a rabbit on the spit, Ernest took out
the map within the tent. The three men had forced Santiago outside so that they
could sit from the cold and examine the paper. A cold wind had begun to blow
and Santiago sat as close to the fire a he could get. Within the tent the men
laughed when told of the previous night’s activities.

“So was he
worth saving? I bet he’s one great fuck, eh, Ernest?”

“You’ll never
find out!”

“Aw..., come
on..., ain’t we partners and everything? You remember that Mexican kid I picked
up in China Camp? I passed him right on to you when I got done with him, didn’t
I? Hell, you gotta share with your buddies!”

“You stupid
son-of-a-bitch,” Ernest whipped around and faced Matt. “You split that kid in
half and I almost got blamed for it when he died. You sure got out of that
cabin fast and left me holdin’ the bag you stupid shit! That kid dammed near
brought the whole town down on us with his screamin’. If I hadn’t cut his
throat, he’d still be hollerin’. You big, stupid shit..., don’t do me any more
favors like that. And stay away from, er..., what’s his name...? Hey,
amigo
...,
que tu nombre?
”

Santiago
understood the question. “Santiago,” he said dryly, spitting out the words.

“Yeah? Cute!
So Ox-ass, stay away from my Santiago you hear?”

“Cheap
son-of-a-bitch! Matt was angry.

“Fuck you,
Matt. Get your own piece of ass.”

The thin man
looked exasperated and intervened. “Let’s cut the bullshit about who is going
to fuck whose little boy. Personally I just can’t see what you guys see in
these kids, anyway. Give me pussy anytime!”

The other two
started laughing. “Why you hypocritical bastard,” Ernest screamed. “You’re the biggest
faggot on the river! Everyone knows it. Why do you keep trying to hide it?”

Lucien left
them and came to the fire. He looked into the boy’s eyes, and then looked
quickly away.

“Come on
Lucien, we gotta’ decide where we’re goin’ for this stuff.”

They studied
the map for a while and speculated about how far up the river they would need
to travel. Ernest called to Santiago.

“Hey
amigo
,
did your father tell you where the gold dust and claim were on this map? Come
here..., tell me where the dust is buried.”

Santiago had
learned a little English, just enough to be understood, but now he shook his
head as though he did not understand what they were saying.

Matt
approached and stood over him. “You will talk when I get through with you,
amigo
.”
He made the sign of fucking with his hand and fist.

Ernest laughed
as he nodded his head in disbelief. “You stupid mother-fucker..., how the fuck
do you think the kid is goin’ to understand when he don't speak no English?
That’s why I’m talkin’ to him in Spanish.”

Matt spun
around and faced Ernest. “You’re awfully loose with your mouth and with callin’
people names! You know, you ain’t too big to get your ass whipped, little
brother. I can still do it!”

“You could try
lard-ass. You ain’t what you used to be.”

Lucien was
irritated by the constant arguing of the two brothers.

“It’s no
wonder your ol’ lady walked out on all of you..., if you two fought like that
when you were kids.”

“We get along
real fine now, don’t we Matt? We use to fight all the time when we were kids. Hell,
this here ain’t fightin’. We just discussin’ stuff.”

Lucien walked
to the fire and removed a firebrand to light his cigar.

“I think you
two should kiss and make up so that we can be on our way. We don’t know who
these guys were plannin’ to meet and who might be following. I’ll feel better
when we’re out of here.”

“Okay, get the
kid to break camp. Be sure to watch him. Don’t leave anything around that
anyone else can find. Let’s get going!”

Ernest untied
Santiago’s wrists and ankles, but tied a longer rope to each ankle so he could
walk but not run. Santiago was careful to observe how the men got along. He saw
that the one called Ernest was the leader. The fattest one tried avoiding the
other two, who seemed always in confrontation. It was apparent that Ernest had
claimed him for his own and the others did not like it. When Lucien had tried
touching Santiago between the legs while they were loading the mule, Ernest had
walked up to the man and hit him between the shoulders with the butt of his
rifle.

They were
ready to move from the site. Santiago looked around. He felt a pain in his
heart for leaving his father behind. The body was somewhere, perhaps not far
from where they stood. Without intention he began to cry silently. He felt a
coldness enter his heart and became filled with it. In that moment he lost a
part of himself. The men had killed more than a body. For that part of himself
that they had robbed, he felt a loneliness and a sorrow. He was mystified by
the glimmer of joy he sensed through his despair, and he began to realize that
this joy was for the freedom of action it brought. That freedom was the
shedding of a chain that gave him power to do
whatever
would be
necessary to survive and for the retribution he knew he was duty-bound to
administer.

T
he
men went out of their way to avoid every settlement and campsite they
approached.

Santiago suspected the men to be
known desperadoes. On the way to Long Barn two incidences occurred that showed
how the men operated. While on the tail they met an old man who foolishly
bragged of having found a sizable nugget. After having shared their whiskey
with the elderly prospector, they were able to get him to speak more loosely.
After wishing the old man well, they parted company. Matt followed the old man
while the other two moved on. Later in the afternoon Matt caught up with them
and brandished a large nugget of gold the size of a small plum. Ernest slipped
it into the pouch he carried tied to his side. He looked at Santiago and
realized the boy understood what they were saying by the look on his face. He
laughed as he drew his finger, like a blade, across his throat to indicate what
had happened to the old man. The others joined him in laughter.

It was at this
point Santiago knew he would need to kill them, as he had no doubt that the
three planned to dispose of him whenever they decided he was of no further
need. While plodding along the trail he thought of how he would go about the
plan. Santiago knew he needed to do it as soon as possible. Every day that
passed was one less day allotted to him, one closer to his death. His thoughts
of escape were often interrupted by those of his father. The visions presented
his father’s face and his resolve to kill the men grew bolder, and his hate,
deeper.

The men
decided to stop and make camp after the sun had set behind a mountain ridge and
the twilight shadows made the trail difficult to see. They referred to the map
often and their excitement grew as the destination seemed closer. Santiago was
forced to set up the tent and gather firewood. Lucien prepared the meal.
Santiago stayed out of their way, not wanting to give them any reason for
abuse. The other two huddled and plotted. They spoke of the assayer in
Columbia, and Santiago understood enough to realize that it was he who had
warned the desperadoes that a man called Cali and his son were in possession of
a valuable map. Santiago placed Stilman on his list.

When the food
was ready and the coffee brewed, Ernest brought Santiago a plate. He sat beside
the boy and watched him eat. He reached and touched Santiago’s leg, edging his
fingers closer to his crotch. Santiago moved to avoid the man’s advances.
Ernest became more aggressive.

“You think
you’re too good for me? Well you’ll find out that I take what I want when I
want it. If it weren’t for me, those thugs would have blown a hole through that
pretty head of yours, and then fucked you afterward. You’re nothin’ but scum
like the rest of us! Don’t push your luck!”

Santiago knew
pushing his luck was exactly what he was about to do. But provoking this man
would not serve his purpose for the moment. It was he, after all, who had saved
his life. Perhaps Santiago could find his own special way of repaying the debt.

“Please,
señor, do not hurt me. I will be good to you, yes? Yes, I will be good to you
when you put yourself in me. I am very good!”

Only by
cooperation would he have the opportunity to strike back.

“So, you do
speak English after all!  You will be good to me, eh? Maybe you and me can be
friends? You’re as beautiful as a woman and judging from last night, you are an
even better fuck. Yes, maybe with a little training and practice, you could be
turned into a little wife.”

“Wife...?
Si
señor
, I think I understand what you are saying. I will be your wife and
you will not have cold nights because I will hold you and satisfy you well!”

The
combination of English and Spanish, given that they both knew fragments of each
other’s language, worked. Ernest was impressed with the boy’s change of mind.
The talk was getting him horny and he wanted to fuck him again but decided not
to press it this time and get the boy more on his side.

“It looks like
you’re not as dumb as we thought. Good for you!”

“You will be
gentle with me for a few days, señor? I was damaged inside, last night. It
hurts and I want to heal to be better for you. But I can do many other things
until I am better!”

“Yeah, I plan
to find out all the other things you can do. Sure, I’ll take it easy for a
while. But you better be good in other ways! We’ll see tonight.”

Ernest joined
the others and they laughed when he told them what Santiago promised.

“You play your
cards right, Matt, and I may even let you have some.”

Santiago had
slipped Ernest’s knife out of its sheath as he had talked to him and the man
had never felt it. Santiago slipped it inside his boot. When they were ready to
go to bed, Ernest untied Santiago’s hands and told him to go to the tent and
set out the bedding.

“You ain’t
goin’ to let him sleep in there and us, out here, are you?”

Lucien was
less indignant about sleeping outdoors as he was upset about not getting at
Santiago.

“Nope, only
long enough for me to get a little action. Then I’ll tie him up under the
lean-to. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when I’m done.”

Santiago had
placed the knife just outside the tent flap so that it could be reached easily
with an extension of the hand. He could not chance to have it found inside.
Then he heard Ernest call out in alarm when he realized the knife was missing.

“Either of you
got my knife? I had it before we ate and now it’s gone.”

“Maybe you
were using it to eat. Check by where you and the kid were talking.”

Santiago did
not dare look behind as he untied and laid out the sleeping gear. He then took
the lantern and walked to the fire for an ember to light it. The men were
looking about, searching.

“I can’t find
it!”

“When was the
last time you remember using it?” Lucien was watching Santiago. “Did you have
it on you when you went with the kid for firewood?”

“Yeah, you’re
right. I used it out there to cut moss.”

“Maybe you
left it there,” Lucien called back from the bundle of gear he was searching.
“It ain’t here!”

“I guess
you’re right. I don’t remember brining it back. I can go get it in the
morning.”

Matt walked up
to Santiago. “Check the kid.”

“Why, how
could he have it? Ernest scrutinized Santiago from head to fool. “You,” he
pointed to the boy. “Get by the fire where I can see you!”

Santiago
stepped close to the fire.

“Undress.”

He pulled off
his shirt and pants and felt the cold air on his back and gooseflesh spread
over his body so that his nipples hardened. Naked, he showed himself to all and
saw how the other two were mesmerized.

“Alright you
little show-off. Put your clothes back on and get your ass in that tent.”

“Ooooeee...,
my-oh-my..., but he sure is somethin’! That boy’s got more between his legs
than all of us put together. Are you stickin’ it to him or is he stickin’ it to
you little brother?”

“The only one
around here whose asshole is big enough to take that piece of meat is you,
Matt. So keep acting like one and I may give the kid a chance to see if he can
fill yours!”

Matt turned in
anger and headed for the lean-to with his blanket. Ernest laughed and with his
arm around Santiago’s waist he led him to the tent. For this performance,
Santiago decided he had to be his best. First he would make their touching last
long enough for the others to fall asleep. He needed to persuade Ernest to
drink more so he would be uncoordinated. He noted that Ernest’s rifle had been
left in the lean-to.

In the tent he
set the lantern so it glowed just enough for him to see. Ernest removed his
clothes and shivered as he grabbed at the boy. Pulling Santiago down to
himself, Ernest covered them with a blanket. Santiago took the man’s erect
penis between his thighs and moved himself so that he stroked the cock. Ernest
lay back and was much less the aggressor than the previous night. After a great
deal of mental preparation, Santiago began to work his way down the man’s body
with his tongue, letting it touch the tender places until Ernest wiggled in
ecstasy. It took tremendous control for Santiago to withstand the urge to vomit
again.

“Señor,
perhaps a little whiskey for me..., and I can perform for you like last night?
The whiskey would dull the pain.”

Ernest was
thrilled at Santiago’s willingness to please him. He reached for his saddle bag
and bought out a bottle, swigging at it and handing it to the boy. Santiago
tipped it to his lips and took a little so his mouth would smell like he was
drinking. They passed the bottle between them several times. Santiago continued
making Ernest squirm with probing and licking. He estimated that they had been
in the tent about an hour. Ernest was getting to a point where the stimulation
would have to come to something. Suddenly he knew exactly what he had to do,
and he knew it would work. It was as though he had a precognition of how it
would all turn out.

Santiago
leaned close to Ernest’s ear and in his sexiest voice he whispered, “Ernesto,
stay where you are. I want you in me, but I must do it so that I will take you
comfortably and satisfy you properly.”

Ernest lay on
his back with both hands behind his head. He was feeling very smug and drunk.
He found it difficult to realize his good fortune of having found a boy so
willing, especially after what had been done to him and to the father. Maybe he
and the father had not gotten along? Maybe the kid was just a slut. What did he
care? He was being serviced as he had never been serviced before. Maybe he would
hang on to the kid for a while longer..., maybe he would even....

Santiago
straddled Ernest and carefully lowered himself on the man’s hard penis. The
pain was so excruciating that he feared he would not be able to fulfill his
plan. He bit his lip and tears spilled from his eyes. Ernest was enraptured,
eyes closed, and did not notice the hate filling Santiago’s face. Santiago
began to move so that he clamped the man’s penis within his rectum. Ernest
moaned. Santiago continued the motion as he leaned far enough to reach beyond
the tent and grab hold of the knife. His fingers were around the handle. He
increased his motion and made sounds in his throat to show he was excited and
nearly at the point of climax, but in reality to cover the sound of his movements.
Ernest’s breathing became louder as he moaned again as his head tossed side to
side, lost in ecstasy.

Just before
ejaculation, Ernest moaned even louder but it ended in a gurgle when the knife
sliced through cartilage and the severed head took on a macabre smile. Santiago
heard a wicked swooshing of air as the man’s last breath mixed with the blood
and his lungs filled with it. Arms and legs twitched and jerked until all
became still.

Santiago
leaped from the body as the blood splashed everywhere. He smelled its warmth,
its richness, so much so that he finally vomited. He saw by the light of the
lantern that Ernest’s head had rolled to the side and was facing downward. He
picked it up and with the mouth opened, placed it on the man’s own penis.

He moved
quietly but swiftly, still naked, and crossed the opening between the tent and
camp-fire. He saw the two men sleeping side-by-side in the lean-to. A rifle was
still propped near its entrance, the same one that had killed his father. He
sat directly in front of the fire, which put him almost four feet from the men.
He was in line with them so that when they sat up, they would be perfect
targets. He raised the weapon and took careful aim to where he thought their
heads would be. When he had the barrel steady he let out a blood-curdling
scream that had the desired effect. The two men bolted upright. Just before the
blasts they saw Santiago seated on a log by the fire, naked and covered with
blood, wild-eyed, laughing madly. As each head lined up with the barrel, the
gun sounded twice and a part of the head of each was blown away. Both bodies
were thrown back with the force of the shots and there was little left above
the shoulders that could be recognized.

Santiago
washed his hands and rinsed himself of blood. He folded the blanket, wrapped
some food, took a pistol and shotgun, packed a good supply of ammunition, and
loaded whatever else he thought would be of use. He left much behind, not
wanting to overburden himself. The mule was packed and he began to walk with
the animal behind, tethered to a rope.

It was only
after he had traveled some distance that he recalled the nugget in Lucien’s
pouch. He had not taken it. Not having knowledge of its value he was inclined
to leave it as he detested the thought of returning to the camp. Yet he knew
they had made a great deal of it! They would not have bothered killing the old
man if it did not have worth. He returned.

Coming into
the camp was like walking into a haunted place. He felt the evil as a force
that prevailed all around him. It took great determination to crawl back into
the tent and face the horror he had created. The smell of blood still filled
the air. He avoided looking at the severed head. He felt about the tent until
he found the belt to which the pouch was attached and quickly crawled out.
Santiago made one more round of the camp to be sure he had left no trace of
himself. He searched the other bodies and took a knife and some American money.

It was not
until three hours after he had left the site that he felt safe enough to sleep.
With a campfire for warmth and protection against prowling animals, and with
the mule secured nearby, Santiago constructed a lean-to of fir-bows and laid
down. The silence and peace was the first he had felt since his abduction. The
stillness was so pronounced that he felt himself kept awake by it and he
listened as the animals moved about in the brush, but they did not frighten
him. It was the human animals for which he had developed fear. He thought of
the loved ones he had lost. His entire family had been taken from him. He knew
now that the only way he could survive was to strike the first blow. Santiago
fell asleep with the face of his mother in mind.