Juan of the Dead

by Jacalyn Boggs

  “It's a bit worse than that.”

  “What the hell could be worse than being abducted by a bunch of wackos? Did they seriously want to boil us and eat us for dinner? Seems rather unlikely they'd tell you those plans.”

  Hey, I’d heard about cannibals in the world. Was it so farfetched to think maybe some made their way to Mexico?

  “They know what you are.” That was it. Plain and simple. But how could they know? Heck, we didn't even really know what I was.

  “I take it that is bad?” If they thought it didn’t matter, then who cared, but if they wanted to do unspeakable things to me, that was a whole other matter. Me and unspeakable things didn't sound like fun.

  “Not as bad as the fact that they weren't the ones chasing us to begin with.”

  Well, crap. Need I say that one again? Crap on a crap-stick. I'd kind of just assumed these were the freaks chasing us to begin with. That left me with only one thought.

  “So, who was chasing us?”

  “I don't know. But it seems you are pretty popular.”

  Of course, I was popular. I'd always been popular, so why would things change in the wake of my untimely demise? Then again, I'd always been popular with people who were normal, not those wanting to commit various criminal acts like assault and kidnapping. I didn't know if I liked the idea of popularity with criminals.

  “Great. So, my popularity with the felonious has increased. I'm oh so lucky.” I pursed my lips and looked at the girl Jon spoke with. “Think you can find out what that means?”

  Jon turned his attention back to the girl and they spoke again. Him. Her. Him. Her. I really hoped he was getting usable information this time. Not the standard half information to taunt me with. Seriously, if he came back with next to nothing, I'd have to think about coaching him some more in how to get information from someone.

  They spoke for longer this time before Jon stopped to talk to me again. “Okay, so here's the deal,” he sighed heavily. “This would be so cool if not for, well, the circumstances.”

  “You mean like being the victims of kidnapping from psychos?”

  “They aren't psychos. And really, you should be thankful. They saved you.”

  “How is this saving? Seems to me abduction is abduction. Any way you want to spin it, it's still a federal crime. At least it is in America. I don't know what passes for law down here.” I'd sure hope that attacking someone and dragging them off without permission was still against the law here.

  “Because, if those other people had caught us, you'd be in pieces.”

  Like what? They'd have beat me up and broken my bones? “Say what?”

  “As in, that's what they think needs to be done to those with your... condition. Dismember and behead you.”

  What the hell? Chop me up? Okay, so that did sound bad. I was only kidding when I thought about becoming Bea Soup for these dudes. Now I found out that there were people who really did want to turn me into little tiny pieces?

  “Uh, why?” I wasn't really sure I wanted to know what went through the minds of crazy people, but at the same time if someone wanted to do that sort of thing to me, I supposed I should know the reasons.

  “I guess because they think that way you can't come back again.”

  “Come back? From where?”

  “Death.”

  Oh. That. Erm, did that mean I could die again? I didn't want to think about that.

  “Uh, so they wanted to kill me? Uh, kill me again?” Yeesh. Definitely glad we got away, though I wasn't ready to become best buds with this pack of people quite yet. Saving my life was nice and all, but wouldn't it have been better to take out my assailants instead? Near as I could tell, just dragging me off meant that the would-be murderers were still around to try again.

  “Something about you being an abomination to the laws of nature.”

  Abomination? They better not have said abomination. No way was I an abomination! Then again, I didn't like him thinking that about me, so maybe I did hope they were the ones that called me that.

  “Well, they can law-of-nature themselves away. I'm here and they can deal with it.”

  I was graced with a second chance at life. What did they want me to do, say no thanks? How about instead I take the chance since it was too unfair to die so young or while on vacation, let alone both!

  “That's the problem. Seems they do want to deal with it. By ending your life.”

  Now I had some pack of crazies hot for my bod and wanting me six feet under. Glorious. But we were away from them for now. What about the matter at hand?

  “And these guys? What do they want?”

  He hesitated. Uh oh. That can’t be good.

  “To worship you.”

  Wait, maybe it could be good. Worship me? I was finally noticed for my awesome fashion sense and drop-dead good looks? I can easily get behind that.

  “Nice. I like the idea of worship.”

  He rolled his eyes while pushing up his glasses. Did he think I wouldn't notice? I glared at him. He continued anyway. “Yeah, I guess that's the best translation. They said they are at your disposal and they've waited for your arrival.”

  They've waited for me? How did they know I was coming? If I'd gotten an invitation to this party, I would have RSVP'ed in the negative and run like hell in the other direction. As would any sensible person.

  “Uh... just what does that mean?”

  “I can't believe this. I guess there's some sort of a prophecy.”

  Now, that was cool. A prophecy of me? This I had to hear. “Share more,” I prompted.

  “They can't really, it doesn't translate out well. But basically, there's a tradition passed down through their tribe about... well... you.”

  Nice! I liked this. Maybe these people weren't so bad after all. First, they had a prophecy about me and then they saved me from my second death. Maybe I could warm up to them after all.

  I look at the people before me. None looked like they were ready to bow to Goddess Bea, so I wasn't sure that Jon was right on this whole worship thing. At the same time, they didn't look ready to chop me up to feed me to the fish or whatever you did with a chopped up hot girl. Really, I figured I could live without the worship so long as it also meant living without people trying to turn me into Fillet o' Bea.

  However, if they did choose to worship me, first command would be to find some better clothes. I liked the idea of minions, but I had standards. I really just couldn't look like I’d just walked out of the Amazon rain forest. Hmmm, maybe they did just walk out of the Amazon rain forest.

  “Where are they from?”

  “I didn't ask. Mostly I got that much and figured I was doing good and I better let you know.”

  Eh, good point. Sitting around while others were prattling on about the price of tea in China in a foreign language was not high on the entertainment factor.

  “Humph.” Could he tell I was grumpy? Well the way my life was going lately, who could blame me? “So, what's next?”

  Bossman came towards me and held out his hand. I stared at him for a few minutes before Jon spoke up. “He is wanting to give you a hand out of the truck.”

  How gentlemanly of Bossman. Where was that chivalry when I was being treated like a sack of potatoes? I suppose the imminent danger of the other crazy people probably knocked politeness aside, but still. I didn't need some man to help me out of a truck.

  I gracelessly stood in the back of the hay filled truck and stumbled to the edge where I jumped down. Bossman turned his hand to Jon, who did take advantage of the kindness. I tried to stand a little taller. I am woman, hear me roar. I didn't need no stinking help. So there.

  c

  chapter seventeen

  Bossman turned to our young translator and said something to her in the guttural language. If he was here, you'd think he could say something in the native language. Nope, not this guy. I wondered about that. Lucky for me my questions were about to be answered. The girl turned and spoke to Jon in Spanish.
Going through so many people was a real pain in the ass.

  “They want us to follow them. We're going somewhere we can really talk in comfort as well as privacy. Things are pretty safe here, for now, I guess.”

  I nodded and we took off walking. Bossman and the girl led us while Thing One and Thing Two took up the rear. I wondered just what was going to be more comfortable than the back of the luxurious hay truck.

  The thing that surprised me about this whole trip was that I'd always pictured Mexico as this giant dust bowl. Nothing but sand and flatness and little adobe houses. Here in the Yucatan, I found myself bushwhacking through forests. If you were really into the wilderness, this would be your ideal spot.

  If anything, this seemed to be the exact opposite of the path towards civilization. Which was why after a few minutes, when we came to a gathering of tents, I was not surprised.

  Now, don't think these things were your average camping tents. You'd not find these things in the local Walmart. These looked homemade. They were large enough that the men could easily stand inside. I had to admit, if one was going camping in the middle of nowhere, this was the way to do it.

  We entered the largest tent, which stood in the middle of the cluster. I realized this was the main gathering place. I took that to mean the other tents were private. Inside, the ground was covered with a large woven rug. Pillows rested on top of the rug for people to sit on. I knew that because there were two men already sitting inside.

  The men made no motions or attempts to stand upon our entrance. Instead, Bossman waved us to some pillows of our own. I sat on one and decided these people were pretty slick. With nothing but the rug between us and the jungle ground, the pillow made all the difference. I liked it, but I wasn’t a roughin' it kind of gal.

  The girl grabbed a pillow from the circle around the edge of the rug. She took it into the center of the great tent and set it down. She knelt and looked towards Bossman for direction which he happily gave. I sure hoped somewhere in all those growls he gave her, she got a “Good job, sistah”. She really was working hard just because these guys didn't know how to speak.

  “Think we could get some introductions?” I didn't think it too much to ask the names of my saviors and abductors. Unless they really wanted me to refer to them is Frick, Frack, and whatever else I could come up with. For that matter, knowing who was hot for Sliced and Diced Bea would be awful nice. What was that adage about holding enemies close? Exactly.

  Jon nodded and whispered to me, “I think we'll get a lot of answers now. I just hope they'll be good.”

  Me too. What if these people wanted to worship me by all manner of creepiness? You never knew what worship could be. I didn't want to be bronzed or stuffed or find myself married to an entire village of skeevy men. The ick factor on all three? Through the roof.

  “Why are you whispering?” If they couldn't understand English did it matter if he spoke loudly or not? This seemed like the case of where someone shouts thinking that loudness will conquer a language barrier.

  “Dunno. I guess I just didn't want to draw attention to myself. You never know what might be considered rude.”

  Oh, yeah. Blasted cultural divides. I really didn't like this part of traveling. If you were so stressed about offending a native, could you ever really relax? On vacation you should be able to let your hair down. Be footloose and fancy free. Not so worried you might end up burned at the stake.

  I simply nodded. Things looked like they might be happening. Somehow our numbers grew to almost fifteen in the tent. All of them sat down, loosely forming a circle along the wall of the tent.

  Looking around I saw that the congregation was comprised of only men. What was the deal with that? Chicks were good enough to translate for these guys but not much else?

  Note to self: If that was the case, I needed to use my awesome powers as She-Who-Must-Be-Worshipped to bring in some woman's lib.

  Bossman said something to the two original inhabitants of the tent. No more Bossman for him, he looked like middle management. Hope he didn't mind the demotion. I watched the exchange between him and the Head Honcho Duo. It really only took a few minutes and then he retreated to the outskirts of the circle. With a few words to our translator, she began her work; that entailed talking to Jon in Spanish. This time, however, she paused frequently so he could bring me up to speed. Thank goodness because it made the whole procedure far less frustrating.

  No introductions yet. Instead, it was Story Time at Tent Chalet. Since it appeared my job was to merely sit back and enjoy the ride, I tried to do just that. Luckily, we did get her name, Anna-Lucia, before she set off in the tale of these people.

  Turns out they weren't from here. That explained the tent action as well as the language barrier. Who knew there were still basically undiscovered people in the world? What else hid in the darkest corners of our world?

  Jon didn't say where our new friends came from. It didn't matter to me unless they decided it was time for another road trip. I was in enough of a pickle having no papers in Mexico. I didn't want to consider the nightmare if they snuck me across country lines. Now if they wanted to hook me up by sneaking across the Mexico- America border, I'd think about it. That didn't seem high on the likely, however, and the idea of skirting Border Control didn't thrill me.

  Anna-Lucia's tale ended up fascinating me. Either she and Jon made a good pair for storytelling, or this was just interesting. Or maybe a combination of the two. For generations longer than they could count, the elders recited prophecy of one who would come. Lucky duck me, I was the one. How I pulled that card from the poker game of life, I'll never know.

  I'd happily be the life of the party, but I wasn't so sure about being “The One”.

  Wasn't Jesus the last to bear that honor? We saw how well that worked out for him. Brutal death? No thank you! Then again, he did get to come back from that death. As it happened, I also came back from death. Hmmm, maybe there was something to this? Still, he was like all wise and powerful. I was all... well, I was not that stuff.

  Fancy that – little old me was destined to usher in great changes. The whole Age of Aquarius shindig. What did I know about that? I knew it was a groovy song from the '60's. The Head Honcho Duo were like my very own wisemen, sans gifts. They watched for the signs of the times, so to speak. They saw them, packed up their little party, and made their way here. I could forgive the no frankincense, myrrh, or gold since their buddies saved me and Jon.

  They even knew everything would go down in or near Chichen Itza. Go figure. Me? I'd never heard of this place. They not only knew where it was, but they revered the ancient culture that once lived here.

  Maybe I should take some time and learn more about this area. I decided I'd give Jon some more time to further my new education in ancient American people. After the crazy people were dealt with, that was.

  They weren't alone in their foreknowledge of my inevitable untimely demise and subsequent return from the dead. A neighboring tribe, for lack of a better word, held the same knowledge. They feared what I would do and what that might mean for their way of life. Stupid superstitions. They thought just because some crazy people created mass destruction by raising the dead, the same would happen this time. That meant that Jon was naughty, and I was about to cause massive destruction.

  I supposed, mostly because Jon mentioned it as a possibility, that the two people were once one. Nations split over less than different visions of the future. Politics was stupid.

  What was I left with? One group wanted me to bring free love and berries. The other thought I'd bring utter annihilation to their way of life and would stop at nothing to ensure that did not come to pass.

  Top on my To Do list? Make sure the efforts of the latter did not come to pass. Nothing was more fearsome than a woman on a mission. Ever seen a salvage sale? When there's only one designer item left and three women set their sights on it, things got brutal fast. Yours truly held a pretty high success rate in such circumstances.
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br />   These crazy guys wanting to do a hatchet job on me didn't stand a chance. Where there's a will, there's more than a way.

  If all these people knew I was going to die and be raised from the dead, why the heck didn't anyone tell me? Was it so hard to send someone a telegram anymore? Text my phone? Email me? How about this low-tech plan: Push me out from underneath the giant freaking calendar! I could still have a normal heartbeat, my Coach purse and, best of all, no one would need to resort to violence.

  Was I the only one who did things the easy way? If you didn’t want me to defy the laws of nature by being the walking dead, then ensure I didn’t croak. You couldn’t get more basic than that.

  Did these guys have any real plans for saving my skin? Not really. They wanted us to come up with something. I had to say, this perturbed me. They actually knew of those who opened hunting season on Bea. What did I know? Nothing.

  Dealing with those hellbent on returning me to the fully deceased status was probably the more prudent route, but it didn't sound too healthy for my stress levels. I didn’t like the idea of going around looking for trouble; it found me easily enough.

  Anyone know how to get off Trouble's radar?

  I kind of liked the idea of cutting out of here and heading for greener pastures. Sure, the runaway plan probably wasn't the best idea, but it worked for me. Got me away from people that might like to do unkind things to me and maybe we could find a nice hotel. Something with multiple stars. At this point, I'd even take three stars over a tent in the back end of nowhere with a price tag on my head.

  Surely, there was someplace we could go hide out where we could also drink something fruity and cold while basking on the beach. The longer I was dead, the paler I got. I wanted my tan, so I favored the beach plan. Funny enough, they didn't like my plan.

  If you aren't going to like the plan of the one who's going to bring you enlightenment, then maybe you weren't worthy of said enlightenment.

  They should’ve taken my advice, if you asked me. Let's go to the beach. Maybe Jon didn't explain it right. Then again, given the way the Head Honcho Duo were clutching their bellies while laughing, I bet he did. Punk. I bet he editorialized it with some such garbage about how my idea was lame. My idea would lead to relaxing and sunbathing. Neither of which could ever be bad.