Redemption's Warrior (11 page)

Pealing a banana that has fallen, amazingly at her feet, Juanita breaks off half and hands it to him. “Tell me everything you remember,” she says around a mouth full of banana.

Wiping his mouth after another long drink of water Christopher says, “It’s hard to remember exactly. One part I’ll never forget. You died. I called for you. A woman made of starlight told me, ‘When two hearts beat as one, the power of love… All life stands still. Never forget.’”

Juanita nodded. “I could hear her. I heard her say, ‘Never forget the power of love, the power of two hearts joined in love.’”

Drawing a shaky breath he laughs, “She told me never forget but already I can’t remember exactly what happened.”

Putting a reassuring hand on his arm, Juanita nods. “That’s how it works, Christopher.
La Currandera
says when you are in a ‘ceremonial altered state,’ you might call it a meditative state. Like when you told me of your journey to collect the pieces of yourself broken off in trauma.” She grimaces, “after you were dumped here on
Islas Tres Marias.
Wait. Let me start over.”

Christopher nods and Juanita continues. “When you are in ordinary waking state you remember the facts, the rules, of the physical world.” Frustrated Juanita tugs on her hair curling at her shoulders. She says, “It’s so hard to explain!”

She puts her hands in front of her, each one cupped and says, “In one hand lives the ordinary world and its rules; in the other hand lives dreaming or ceremony or prayer. When you are in either world it’s difficult to remember the other world.”

Christopher nods in understanding. “Yes, that’s a great explanation. I understand what you’re saying. But,” he swallows hard. “What happened to you? Juanita I thought you were dead.”

He reaches for her hand. It’s Juanita’s turn to laugh shakily. “I think I did die in a way, Christopher. I had no idea this could happen. While my ‘dream body’ was with you my ‘light body’ went somewhere else.”

“You’re talking in riddles, ‘dream body, light body!’ Just tell me what happened!”

Paling slightly Juanita says, “Suddenly I was with an aboriginal man. His face and body were painted white with dots and spirals. He had a stick, like a wizard’s wand, and he carved me open like a surgeon with a scalpel.”

“He said,” Juanita’s eyebrows pinch, frowning. She reaches into her memory for the exact words. “He said I had to die and be reborn in love.

“While you struggled, he planted inside me crystals glowing with starlight. He called them, ‘earth stars.’ I could see you and I watched him. I was in both places at once.
La Currandera
calls this double dreaming.”

Her tears start to flow and Christopher is helpless. He pulls her to him, “Shhh,” he whispers. “We are okay now. You’re okay.”

Juanita shakes. “He told me that if you could not find the power to call me back, transform your heart and open to love, then I would die. I would exist only in my ‘light body.’ He used his stick to fuse me back together.”

Juanita pulls up her top and looks at her stomach. Down the center of her midline a radiant white light, shines like a scar. Her eyes widen when she looks up at Christopher. Simultaneously they say, “Wow!”

Juanita continues, “I heard you call me.” She grabs his hand and squeezes. “Wait I almost forgot. He gave me a message for you.”

Juanita reaches for the water bottle. She takes a long drink and then continues. “He said, ‘Redemption’s Warrior, your journey of redemption, beyond this island, is to re-make your world.’ He gave me this to give you.”

Juanita holds up her hand. Peaking over her shoulder, watching with interest, Christopher can see Juanita’s white swan. Slowly Juanita uncurls her free hand. A flash of brilliant blue, as deep as the ocean surrounds them and Christopher sees the pulsing florescent blue of his dragonfly. It flies into his heart. Christopher is pulsing with blue light, filling him with wonder, an internal earthquake shakes. Toxicity, all of the anger he’s felt each day of his imprisonment, falls away, freeing him.

Smiling Juanita says, “He told me to tell you ‘follow your dragonfly home.’”

W
hen
El Jefe
calls Fat Luis into his private study Fat Luis cannot help but gawk. Dark woods, hand loomed silk rugs, and crystal decanters filled with liqueurs on a massive antique sideboard just the beginning. Although second in command Fat Luis has never been invited to one of the many parties held in the hacienda.

Saltillo tiles, chandeliers, velvet sofas and oversized chairs stuffed with down feathers create an inviting atmosphere.  Luis can imagine the harvest dining table groaning with food. Just thinking about it makes his mouth water.

The
hacienda
is the only air conditioned building on the island. Even the hospital utilizes ceiling fans. The library is cool and fresh. Fat Luis is sweaty and self- conscious.
El Jefe
stares at him.

Did I sigh out loud
?  Clearing his throat he says, “You called for me
El Jefe
?”

Chewing on his hand rolled cigar
El Jefe
appraises Fat Luis. He ignores the man’s efforts to gather his wits, probably a necessary evil after rushing over to the compound. Placing his cigar on a crystal ashtray he takes note of the jam stain on the front Fat Luis’s shirt. He says, “I’ve heard the
gringo
prisoner cooks a good barbeque.”

“Yes,
El Jefe
. He barbeques chickens he has raised.” Luis mouth is watering just thinking of Christopher’s barbeque sauce. “He uses chilies, tomatoes, and onions grown in his small garden.” He drops into reverie imagining one of Christopher’s chickens all for himself.

El Jefe’s
voice pulls him out of his food trance.

“I need you to supervise the purchase of fresh fish from one of the fisherman outside the mile perimeter.” Picking up his cigar rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, he continues, “In the past your fish selection has been… lacking. I’ve heard the
gringo
is a good cook.” His fingers tap out his impatience on the walnut stained desk. “Before the fishermen turn back at sunset I want you to take the launch, with this
gringo
and have him select from their catch. Instruct him to barbeque the fish and bring it to the
hacienda
before eight o’clock. Tonight Carmen and I will have a dinner party.”

Chewing the cigar, he asks, “How long have you known about the
gringo’s
chicken farm?”

Fat Luis sweats in silence. To say he’s known all along will sound like he gave permission. To say he only discovered recently will reveal his ignorance.
El Jefe
waves him away. “Never mind, it’s harmless. Go get
dinero
from the controller. An envelope waits for you.”

As another afterthought he adds “Do not negotiate with the fisherman.” He taps his forefinger on the desk. “Give him one offer. If he does not accept he will never fish off our islands again.”

As Fat Luis exits the
hacienda
, Jacinto lights his cigar blowing smoke toward the ceiling. His eyes are flat. Every encounter he perceives a potential challenge to his authority. Even the smallest battles must be conquered.

Luis lumbers into the jeep. After picking up
dinero
he orders his driver to search of the
gringo
. His driver navigates the jeep down to the dock. He says, “When the
putas
visit the
gringo
can be found on the cliff with the Captain’s daughter.”

Fat Luis snaps his fingers for the binoculars. He observes Christopher and Juanita sitting side by side. He asks, “Is that all they do? They just sit and talk?”

“Yes.”

“
El Jefe
has a soft spot for his niece. Why else would he let her talk with the
gringo
?” Still looking, Fat Luis sees Juanita vanish. He mumbles, “What happened?”

He lowers the glasses and carefully cleans the lens. He hands the binoculars to the driver. “Are they still there?”

Confused the man looks at him but takes the binoculars. Looking at Juanita and Christopher,
Fat Luis plays a trick on me?

Handing back the glasses he says, “Yes, they are sitting on the cliff.” Looking again Fat Luis sees they have moved to sit beneath the banana trees. Christopher seems to be comforting Juanita and even hugs her. A blast of brilliant blue surrounds the couple. Once again he lowers the binoculars and cleans the lens.

His driver says, “They are coming down.”

When Christopher passes the jeep Fat Luis calls out, “Hey
gringo
!
El Jefe
sent me. He wants you to select fish and prepare it for his party tonight. Meet me at the launch an hour before sunset.”

Christopher is stunned.
Contact with fisherman? A dream comes true.
Bowing to Juanita, he says, “I enjoyed our conversation.” Grinning he gives her a wink. Her smile lifts his heart.

Turning back to Fat Luis he says, “I will meet you at the launch one hour before sunset.”

He jogs to his garden
.
He’ll pick the ingredients and prepare a marinade now. One part of his attention absorbed in preparing ingredients. The other striving to remember all he knows about
El Jefe
, a slang title meaning the Big Boss.

His given name is Jacinto. In the United States his title would be Warden Jacinto. He and his wife, Carmen, are rarely seen beyond the town perimeter. Unloading supplies inmates see the very best in tequila, current movies, fresh foods, perfumes, soaps, fine linens and clothes made of the finest materials. All earmarked for
El Jefe
and his wife.

The Big Boss lives in the white washed
hacienda
behind courtyard walls. Prisoners, roam the island after work hours, but are never allowed to loiter around the perimeter of the town. They have no access to the administration buildings or
El Jefe’s hacienda
. Guards, posting watch from towers and patrolling the ground by jeep and on foot rotate duty twenty-four hours a day.
El Jefe’s
occasional trips to swim in the surf with Carmen are heavily guarded. A mid-sized man with a swollen belly
El Jefe
adorns himself in gold chains over a hairy chest.

Carmen’s dyed yellow hair, long and curling, her too small bikinis, incongruous with the vacant stare of a woman who has learned to hide behind the needs and wants of her man. Carmen married
El Jefe
in the hopes she’d escape a childhood of poverty and abuse. But amid the sumptuous riches of her married life she finds herself living in another kind of prison.

Christopher thinks
they are an odd pair
. He’s seen them chasing in the waves, predator and prey. Watching the man hunting his petite wife in the shark infested waters surrounding
Islas Tres Marias
Christopher knows her screams are of real pain. She screams the terror of being caught.

Christopher spends the rest of the afternoon collecting wood for the barbeque. He ropes Checo in to help with the promise of “as much as you want,” fish dinner. Together they gather Mesquite wood, Ironwood and Jacaranda branches. Christopher debates, “what impact will these wood flavors have on the barbeque
?”
His skills as a cook hold the power of life and death, for him, the fish and even Checo.

Thinking out loud he tells Checo, “I’ll go heavy on the Mesquite wood for the main course at
El Jefe’s
dinner party. We can smoke the left over fish. The foundation wood for the smoker will be Ironwood. The density of Ironwood will be good for long smoldering.”

Checo looks up from digging a second barbeque pit. He stares at Christopher in amazement. “Where did you learn this stuff?”

Christopher’s answer is quick, like a snap of his fingers. He says, “My parents. I started cooking with my mom when I had to stand on a chair next to her.”

Checo hears the raw pain in Christopher’s voice and knows not to pursue the topic.

Together they strategically place the branches and start the fire. In the initial smoke
Ave Bonita
squawks her disapproval, a streak of blue and green, she flies to a distant Jacaranda tree. Checo’s jaguar lies behind him lounging.

Christopher says, “Let’s build one more pit. I’ll use only Jacaranda wood. It will burn quickly giving the fish a delicate, quick seared, flavor. We’ll add only fresh squeezed lemon and lime. It will be the first course.”

Checo says, “Sounds good. Save some for me.”

Christopher punches Checo in his meaty bicep. “What do you mean, ‘save some for you’?  You are my sous chef. You’ll be standing right next to me getting hot and sweaty.”

As he finishes digging the additional pit for barbeque and smoker, Checo asks, “How are you going to cook the fish without grills?”

Christopher grins. “I confiscated aluminum foil. We’ll wrap the fish in marinade and banana leaves. Then fold them in the foil and place the whole thing directly on the coals.” He looks up from chopping ingredients for the marinade and yells, “It’s an experiment!”

“You better hope your ‘experiment’ turns out well,” says Checo while stoking the beginning of a fire. “This dinner is for
El Jefe
. You don’t want to end up on the bone pile.”

Studying the placement of the last Jacaranda branches, they will not be lit until he returns with the fish. Pausing he looks at Checo, “Juanita taught me faith in a ‘greater beneficence.’ So let’s have a little faith brother. This style of barbeque works for the chickens.”

An hour before sunset Christopher arrives at the launch. He stands on the dock as Fat Luis boards the launch. With each step Luis takes the launch sways wildly in the mooring. Christopher pretends not to notice the effect Luis has on the boats center of gravity. Instead he occupies himself freeing the bow and stern lines. The task complete he jumps aboard.

“Don’t mess with me
gringo
,” wheezes Fat Luis.

Holding his palms up Christopher says, “No problems from me big man. Let’s go get the fish for
El Jefe
.”

Luis engages the throttle and the launch pulls out to sea. Christopher is eager. To be free of
La Luna
, if only for a boat ride an exceptional moment for a prisoner of
Islas Tres Marias
.