THE BLUE STALKER (31 page)

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Authors: JEAN AVERY BROWN

BOOK: THE BLUE STALKER
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“Maybe someday Maria we can go to Mexico to visit your mom.”  Juan told her but in Juan’s mind he couldn’t see going back to Mexico even on a vacation.  Juan has too many bad memories. Juan’s parents were both deceased. Juan didn’t have any family except for his mother-in-law. Maria only has her mother.

             
“I wanted to ask you to take me to town Monday.”

             
“What do you want to buy in town?”  Juan asked.

             
“What do you think about me painting a portrait of Ms. Ella to give to her or Christmas?”  Maria asked questioning her talent.

             
“Maria, that’s a good idea. You’ve painted many portraits in Mexico and everyone was well pleased.”  Juan told her as he sat Jose on the freshly mowed lawn placing his cap cocked on Jose‘s little round head. 

             
“Maria, look at daddy’s boy.”  Juan proudly said.

             
“I’ll take you to town tomorrow and after you purchase your paints we will go by the Motor Vehicle Department and get Jose’s fingerprints for his green card.”

             
“Ella never comes upstairs so I think maybe you could put an easel up in the spare room.  This way Jose won’t smell the fumes from the oil paints.”  Juan suggested.

“That’s a good idea.”  Maria said agreeing with Juan.

             
“After I finish with the portrait maybe I will paint landscapes.  This country is so beautiful.  I want to capture it on canvas.”  Maria said as she picked up Jose from the lawn.  She danced in circles to the house.

             
Juan finished with the mowing and started washing down the driveway.  He felt like he was the master of this place but he knew he was only dreaming.  But living in this house was a dream he never thought would come true.

             
Maria put Jose down for his afternoon nap and sat on the porch watching Juan spray the debris from the driveway.  Juan turned off the faucet.

             
“Maria, tomorrow we will go to Sunday Mass. It is time we start going to Mass. We have much to be thankful for.”  Juan said as the head of the family. 

             
“What a wonderful idea. I will get our clothes ready this afternoon.  I wonder what time they have mass.” Maria said.

             
“I checked last week and it’s at ten o’clock on Sunday’s. Juan said as he turned the hose sprayer on to finish his job.

             
Maria prepared a nice Mexican dinner. After dinner Ella, Juan, Maria and Jose sat around the fireplace talking and snack on popcorn.

             
“Juan, I would like for you to get started on painting the walls and the timbers in the ceiling.  Then I will have new carpet installed.  I’m thinking about having a New Year’s Eve party.  Do you think we can have the living room finished in time for the party?”  Ella asked.

             
“Sure we can Ms. Ella.  There’s nothing structural so it won’t take long.”  Juan said as he picked up the popcorn that had fallen on the floor.

             
“I wanted to give you a heads up so you can start thinking about purchasing the materials you will need.”

             
Maria and I plan to go town on Monday. I will pick up the paint if you can tell me the color you want.”

             
I’ll go by the hardwood store first thing Monday morning and leave my choice with the sales clerk.”  Ella said.

             
“Ms. Ella, when you walk in the front door this wall is big and blank. Do you plan on doing anything to make it interesting?  Juan asked.

             
“I hadn’t thought about it.  Do you have any suggestions?”  Ella asked.

             
“What do you think about having a mural painted on the wall?”  Juan suggested.

             
“That’s a great idea but I don’t know of an artist in town.”  Ella said.

             
“May I introduce to you, Maria?  She’s one of the best mural artists in Mexico.”  Juan said as he pointed to Maria.

             
“Maria, I didn’t know you had this talent.”  Ella said amazed.

             
“I’ve been painting all my life.  But it was hard to get my own paints so I painted for other people.  I have pictures of my work but I left them in Mexico.”  Maria told her.

             
“Let’s do it.  What kind of scene should it be?”  Ella questioned.

             
“That’s up to you but many people had me paint something that makes them feel good.  A memory from your past.  Do you have any pictures of when you were young?”  Maybe your favorite place to visit?”  Maria asked.

             
“I have just the picture.”  Ella said as she ran to the bedroom and brought back a big picture album.

Ella flipped through the album stopping along the way to point out her parents and some of her friends and funny pictures of Ella when she was in her awkward stage.

             
“Here it is!”  Ella said as she pulled the picture from the album.

             
“This is a picture of my favorite swimming hole when I was a teenager.  The river ran through Farmer Ray’s farm and there was this big oak tree.  See here the tree.”  Ella said pointing at the tree.

             
“Can you see the rope hanging from the tree limb and the tire tied to the end of the rope?”  Ella asked.

             
“We would swing far out to the deep water and drop off. 
             
A few of my friends are in this picture.  I haven’t seen them in years but I hear there’s going to be a twentieth class reunion in the spring and I plan on going.  It’ll be so much fun seeing everyone.”  Ella was so excited she kept running off at the mouth.

             
“Ella, we are going to mass tomorrow at ten would you like to join us?”  Juan asked.

             
“Thank you for inviting me but I think I will stay close to home tomorrow.  Ella said as she picked up her  empty popcorn bowl and headed for the kitchen.

 

             
             
             
             
             
             
             
             
             
             
             

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWENTY-FOUR

 

             
Sunday morning the drop-house was dark except for the streak of sun shining in from the slit in the shade.  The Mexican man was lying on the floor.  Where he had been for days.  His throat was dry from lack of water.  The other captives were in as bad or worse condition.

             
The Mexican man thought of his family.  How he wanted so badly to reach this great country with plenty of work and send his family money to have a better life.  His body ached from the torture he had been through but he came from strong stock and he would fight for life to the end. 

             
The Mexican beast kicked the door open and grabbed the young captive by the throat pulling him to his feet.

             
“Get up you sorry bastard. It seems your lousy family doesn’t care enough about you to pay a ransom for your sorry ass.”  The beast said with anger in his voice.

             
“You are going for a ride, a ride to hell.”  He said as he pushed the Mexican captive through the bedroom door.  The Mexican captive saw other men lying in their own filth.  Their clothes were stripped from them.  They had been beaten beyond recognition.

             
The captors gave the men one glass of water a day and one hot dog.  Just enough to keep them alive.  Stray rabid dogs shouldn’t be treated like this.

             
They dragged the Mexican man outside and threw him in the van.  His body bounced across the rugged steel of the vans floor.  The beast jumped in the van setting low in the seat hoping not to be noticed.

             
“I will be back in about an hour.”  He said to his partner.

             
The Mexican captive knew he was on his way to death.  He frantically tried to release his hands but the knots were soaked with dried blood.  There was no way he could free himself.

             
The van drove north and turned east on a gravel road.  Less than a half mile down the gravel road the beast stopped the van. He pulled the man from the van dragging him across the desert.  He kicked him to the side of the road.  He mercilessly beat him as if he were a piece of meat hanging in the butchers shop. 

             
“You are not worth a bullet. You piece of shit. You’ll make a bloody feast for the vultures.”  The beast said as he took his boot and pushed him farther off the road.

             
The beast jumped in his van and drove back to the drop-house.  He didn’t have any guilt.  This was all in a days work.  He sold his soul to the devil when he made his first kill.  His radio was blaring and thoughts of the look on the face of the guy begging for mercy made him feel the power of being in control of another human.

             
Lying helpless in the desert the Mexican man regained consciousness and began to pray as he had prayed for days.  He knew without someone coming down the road he would undoubtedly be devoured by the creatures of the desert. He also knew he needed to roll to the road.  He struggled for what seemed to be hours. The sand rubbed his body like sandpaper.  He pulled his body using cactus for his grip.  The cactus pierced his hands and blood streamed down his arms. He licked the blood for moisture. His eyes were swollen almost shut from hours of torture. After hours of trying to get to the road he laid on the side of the road lifeless.  Every ounce of strength was drained from his body. As he went in and out of consciousness he thought about his family.  He hoped they would someday know what happened to him.  He only wanted to make a better life for them. 

             
Ella hadn’t been up very long when she heard the clock strike twelve. 

             
My goodness. I’ve slept half the day away. 

             
Ella had some chores to do around the house and went about her business. Laundry was at the top of the list.  The clothes were sorted on the floor just as her mother taught her when she was probably about eleven years old.  When she was a child she made a song of sorting the clothes.  Whites with whites, colors with colors and darks with darks.  As she tossed the clothes to their designated piles.  She stopped in the middle of her little song.

             
Isn’t this the way life is to this day?  Ella thought.  Just like the song goes. She thought. Shaking her head side to side and went on with her sorting.

             
Juan, Maria and Jose must have gone on the drive they planned on taking yesterday.  Maybe they stopped in at Joe’s Coffee House for lunch.  She looked out the window wondering where they were.

             
Gee.  Ella thought as she gazed out the window.  I’m acting like an ole’ mother hen.

             
The day was coming to an end when Juan and his family came up the drive.  Ella felt a relief come over her. Juan helped Maria out of the truck and lifted Jose out of his car seat carefully handing him down to Maria.

             
“Hello, Ms. Ella.”  Maria said.  “We’ve had a wonderful day.  We took a nice drive into the desert.  It’s beautiful; everything is green and lush in the high desert.”  Maria said as she carried Jose upstairs.

             
Juan brought the diaper bag into the house and set it on the floor.

             
“I’ll take it up later.”  Juan said sitting down on the first step holding his head in his hands.

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