by Ricky Sides
“Yes, how foolish of me. My old mind wanders so these days. My name is Ruth del Valle.”
“That is only your first and middle names. What is your surname, Ruth of the valley?” Ramon asked.
“My father was opposed to the church. He was a good Marxist, and as such, he had little regard for the church. Do you understand?”
Ramon sadly nodded. “So he took his name from you.”
The old woman bowed her head in sadness. By the light of the fire, Ramon thought he saw tears fall from her face and he was sorry that he had probed deeper into her name. “I am sorry, Ruth. I have hurt you, and that was not my intent,” he stated contritely.
“No, you haven’t hurt me, but my father did. I forgave him for that the day he did it, but he never forgave me.”
Ruth looked up, and frowned. “The hour grows late, and you have much to do tomorrow. I will get to the point.”
Ramon nodded, but said nothing for she had spoken truly. The hour was late and he did indeed have much to do the next day.
“About a year ago, I became sick. I lay abed for days waiting to die. But I did not die. Instead, a young woman came to me. She bade me get out of bed for she had need of me. She told me that I must eat to nourish my body. I told her that I was too sick to eat, even if I had the strength to cook. But when she asked if that meant I was saying no and wouldn’t help her, she looked so profoundly sad and disappointed that I found the strength to get out of my bed. When I got to my feet, I felt a hunger for the first time in many days, but in my weakened state, I couldn’t think clearly enough to prepare a meal. In truth, if not for her intervention, I believe that I would have soon died. She spoke to me then, telling me what I should cook and guided me through each step when I made mistakes, and I made many in my confused state. When I had eaten, she told me to wash my body, build up the fire, change my bedding, and return to my bed until the next morning. I was to arise then and prepare to learn the task she had for me.”
Ramon listened, enthralled by the old woman’s story. He didn’t interrupt for fear that she wouldn’t continue.
“I did as I had been instructed and the next day the woman returned. This time she told me that I had a service to perform for the good of the Cuban people if I still cared about such matters. I assured her that I was still devoted to the people and then she told me what I must do. She said that the plague was returning to Cuba and that I must prepare the people for what was to come. She told me to warn them, but then she told me that they would not heed my warning and would mock me. When I asked what use it was for me to warn the people if they would not heed me, she said that she didn’t know, but that it was an important step in a larger service, and that I would be called upon to complete that service at a later date. She asked me to pray about the matter and ask the Father if what I was asked to do was in accordance with his will. I accepted her challenge and prayed about the matter. I received no epiphany, but I did get the overwhelming feeling that this woman was asking me to do God’s will. When she asked me if I had the faith to do his will, it was as if she had read my heart and I fell upon my knees and begged forgiveness, but she bade me to get up and told me that the savior had known my heart well for many years.”
“So, I went among the people of the city, Captain. Wherever two or more gathered I went for seven days, as she had instructed. I warned them that the plague was returning to Cuba and that we must prepare to heed the words of a man who would come to save them.”
She paused when she saw Ramon straighten up and cast a sharp-eyed gaze upon her. “Yes, finally, I come to the part that involves you. I can’t blame them for thinking I was insane. You see, I told them exactly what she prompted me to tell the people, and that was that a ‘captain of the sky’ would visit them, but that he would not come among them from the clouds, but rather on his own feet. I warned them that the plague would have returned to dwell among them when the captain came, and that he would tell them to hear his voice so that they might live.”
Ramon felt a chill run down his spine that had nothing to do with the cool night air.
Ruth nodded her understanding and said, “It is true. And in the city when you addressed the assembled men, what you said was so close to what I’d been told to tell them, that the men remembered. They heeded my words, because I had told them a year ago that this would come to pass, and warned them what would happen if they failed to heed the captain from the sky who walked among us.”
For the first time since she had begun her monologue, Ramon asked a question. “What did you tell them?”
“I warned them that all who fled would perish, and with them, most of the rest of our people.”
Ramon nodded his agreement, but held his tongue so that she could continue to reveal things to him.
“I already told you why I brought the coffee and the stew. She told me you needed it, so I obeyed. What I have not yet revealed is that she visited me last night and warned me that the captain was in grave danger. He would take a dangerous medicine because he was making it available to the people of Cabo de San Antonio, but she warned that you must not take the medicine. It is bad for you. If you take it, you will surely die.”
“Who is this woman you speak of, Ruth? Is she an angel?”
“No, she is not an angel, but she is a servant of my savior. She is one who has lived but has since died. He found her worthy and now she resides in heaven.”
“What is her name?”
“I know only the first name, and was told not to reveal it to you for reasons she would not disclose.”
“You are saying I knew this woman? Was she related to me?”
“Captain, you know of oaths and pledges. Surely you know that I cannot pledge my silence, and then gossip like a crone.”
Ramon bowed his head in sadness for he could see that Ruth would not reveal what he wanted to know.
“Don’t take the medicine, Captain. It will kill you by giving you that which it is designed to prevent.”
“You could have learned that from the flier I put with your food,” Ramon said angrily. He was immediately sorry that he snapped at the old woman who was, at least in her own mind, only trying to help him.
“Yes, I could have,” she conceded, smiling as if at some private joke. “But I knew it before you placed the package at my door. Did your notice also say that you planned to call people to their doors and take the medicine so that they could see that you took it? Did it mention that you planned to do this on my street?”
Ramon sat stock-still. There was no way that she could have known that because he hadn’t shared that decision with anyone. Not even the crew of the Havana.
“No, Captain. You did not mention that you were going to take the vaccine, but she knew, and she told me.”
With a tired grunt, the old woman hoisted herself to her feet. Leaning heavily on her cane, she said, “Now I must go home. She’s coming to see me tonight, and I must be ready with paper and pen to write a last message. I will leave it on my door tonight.”
“I bid you well, Captain Ramon Marino. God be with you.”
“And you, Ruth del Valle,” Ramon countered.
“Forgive an old woman her foolishness, but do you suppose you could call me grandmother one last time? I find I like the sound of the title when it falls from your lips.”
“Thank you for your gracious company, Grandmother,” Ramon said sincerely. He added, “Thank you for caring enough about my safety that you risked coming to me, and for the food and drink as well.”
“Heed my words, Grandson. She says your time has not yet come. God has plans for you, Ramon Marino. Yet I still see doubt in your eyes. She told me much to dispel your doubts, but bade me keep things to myself unless it was truly necessary to reveal all for she said you would be hurt. Tell me, do you believe me? Truly? Does your heart verify that which my lips have spoken?”
“I have my doubts, Grandmother. What man wouldn’t?”
“Indeed. Then I suppose I must tell you mo
re,” the woman said. She concentrated for a moment, and then she said, “You once read a letter that sent you far and wide seeking a bride who left upon two wheels.”
Ramon stood up, stunned by what Ruth had revealed. But she was not finished.
“Bitterly you wept, yet never found her. You punished many responsible for her death. Then, you traveled by open boat to America to warn the people that the plague was to be turned against them. You are counted a hero among the Americans. You returned to Havana and conquered the evil that had decimated Cuba and now you are a hero of our people as well. She is so proud of you.”
“That’s all I can say now, Ramon.”
Without another word, the old woman turned and hobbled away. The sound of her cane tapping on the pavement lingered long after she vanished into the night.
Ramon stood for a long time remembering the event that led to his becoming a peacekeeper.
When the drug cartel unleashed the plague upon the people of Cuba, his wife, Anna, who was a physician, tended the sick until she herself contracted the disease. Rather than risk giving the plague to her husband, she had taken her bicycle and disappeared into the Cuban countryside. He had frantically sought her, but his search had been in vain. When he realized one day that the time had come when she would have died of the plague, Ramon had sat down and cried bitter tears of mourning.
When he stopped crying, Ramon had set out to punish the invaders, killing any he could when the opportunity presented itself. During one such mission, he had captured a powerful lieutenant of the drug cartel. From that man he had learned of the cartel’s plan to attack America with the plague. He had then taken a small open boat and headed for America. The trip almost killed him, but he had survived.
Ramon had then warned the peacekeepers of the plot and asked for help in ridding Cuba of the drug cartel. He had recruited one hundred Cuban-Americans who had entered special peacekeeper training with him. That force, led by Ramon and aided by a group of the American peacekeepers, had liberated Cuba from the cartel. Although Ramon never sought recognition, Ruth was right. He knew that he was indeed counted as a hero by Americans and Cubans alike.
He lifted his face to the stars and said a silent prayer of thanks for the guidance that he had received when he needed it most. As he looked up at the stars he could almost feel the presence of his Anna in a way that he hadn’t since she had left to save his life because she knew that he would not abandon her.
***
The bullets were still flying when Evan, who was low crawling in the hopes of escaping detection, made it into the woods to the left of where he thought most of the enemy was located. He got to his feet carefully in the silence that followed the firefight.
Now Evan fell back on the stealth techniques that he had learned from such men as Pete Damroyal, Jack Wilcox, and of course his father, Jim Wilison. When he moved, he did so with a slow and fluid motion. Now was not the time for the quick and jerky movements that caught the eye and were more apt to make noise. When Evan stopped, he broke up his profile because he knew that even in the dark and in complete silence, a man’s shape could give him away.
Evan thought he heard someone just a few yards from his position in the woods. He bent forward at a sharp angle to break up his profile and then he moved cautiously around a tree that was between him and the source of the sound he had heard. His right boot encountered an obstruction, so Evan raised it up until he felt it clear the obstruction. He glanced down and saw that it was a man. Shocked, he backed up quietly and then squatted beside the body. He closed his eyes for a few seconds to permit his pupils to expand, thus improving his night vision. When he opened them again, he knew he would have a few seconds before they contracted in which to study the body.
Apparently, the man had been shot in the face. He was about to move on when he heard someone whisper, “Posey? Posey, where are you? I can’t see a thing in here.”
Evan’s heart hammered in his chest. He wondered if he should try to signal the man in order to lure him close enough to use his knife, but he knew that was risky. There was no way to know whether the man was alone or part of a larger party. When the man called out to Posey in a slightly louder whisper, Evan decided to risk it. “Over here,” he whispered with his hand over his mouth to mask the sound of his voice.
He heard the sound of heavy movement coming in his direction. “Posey, you idiot, we were supposed to move a bit to the south. Oh, there you are, stated the man as he stepped out of the brush near Evan.
“Help me. I’m hurt,” Evan mumbled in a low tone of voice.
“You’ll be more than hurt if we don’t move to the south,” the man muttered, but he leaned down to help Evan to his feet. Evan’s knife lashed out, stabbing the man in the throat. He let go of the knife and grabbed the man’s arm, and then he pulled him down to the ground and held him as still as possible while the man died.
With his right hand behind the man’s neck, Evan managed to hold his upper body relatively still, but he was unable to prevent his feet from drumming against the ground for a few moments.
“Is that you, Stanley?” another voice asked.
Evan’s knife was still buried in the man’s throat, but he saw that his victim was wearing a belt knife on his right hip. Evan drew that blade and then crouched down to wait for the next man to approach.
“Come on Stanley, you know I can’t see shit in the dark. Where the hell are you,” whispered the man angrily.
“I’m here,” Evan whispered. It had worked once, so he thought he would try it again. It’s Posey. Stanley’s down. Come help me with him so we can move south.”
“All right, all right, hold your horses. I’m coming.”
A moment later, another man stumbled into view. Evan realized immediately that the man must be all but night blind. He was staring straight at him and there was no sign that he was even aware of his presence. This was difficult for Evan to comprehend. Thanks to the training he had received from such a young age, his own night vision was superb.
Evan waited until the man took another step toward him, which brought him within reach of the knife. Uncoiling his body like a spring, he thrust out with the knife and stabbed the man in the heart with his right hand, working the handle of the blade back and forth, as he pushed it deeper into the wound cavity. When the man opened his mouth to scream, Evan punched him in the throat with his left hand and then wrapped his arm around the man to hold him in position for the final thrust of the blade.
His heart was hammering in his chest when Evan eased away from that man’s body. He had killed men before, but always from a distance and never with a blade. It was different when you could feel their blood on your hand as you thrust the blade in deeper. He was glad it was dark and he hadn’t seen the look in the men’s eyes, or their faces for that matter. He wiped his shaking hands on the clothing of the man he had just killed. Now he understood that sad look Pete had had in his eyes when he had asked him what it felt like to kill a man with a knife. Pete had answered, “It feels like you also killed a bit of yourself with the blade, Evan, so I hope you never learn exactly how it feels.”
“You were right, Pete,” Evan said quietly as he wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his uniform shirt.
Ten minutes later, Evan was slowly approaching a large group of men who were kneeling behind a downed tree trunk. One of the men was talking in low tones, but Evan couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. He was considering trying to ease around the men a bit more so that he could find a better firing position when Ralph opened fire with his M16.
Evan saw three men in the group go down as he whipped the stock of his own weapon to his shoulder and opened fire. Caught between the automatic weapons fire of the two peacekeepers, the group of men went down in moments. The little return fire the raiders managed was ineffective with most of the rounds flying wide of the targets.
When he ran out of ammo, Evan automatically ejected the spent magazine and slammed home a fresh one. Releasing the bolt
, he chambered another round before calling out to Ralph to let him know that he was about to go check the bodies.
“I’ve got it,” Ralph said. He was already on his feet and moving toward the group of men.
“Evan heard a twig snap behind and to the right. He spun his body, thinking that one of the men was acting as rear guard and was about to shoot at them. Instead, he saw a massive alligator running toward Ralph. Apparently, the animal had been stalking Ralph, and when he had gotten up to walk toward the men they had shot, it charged its intended prey.
There wasn’t time to aim at the gator, which was already within fifteen feet of Ralph. Instead, Evan snapped his rifle up to his waist and fired a full auto burst of six rounds into the animal’s side. The alligator rolled and thrashed about. Evan snapped the rifle to his shoulder and fired another three rounds at the alligator’s head. This time he scored a kill shot.
“Thanks, Captain,” Ralph said.
“You don’t have to call me captain now,” Evan said absently. “I no longer have a ship, remember?”
“You’ll always be my captain,” Ralph said.
Evan looked to Ralph to see if he was serious. He could easily tell from the tone of his friend’s voice that he meant every word of what he had just said. “Thank you, Ralph. That means a lot to me.”
“You’ll get another ship soon, and when you do, I hope you remember me. I want to be your strike team leader.”
“You did a fine job tonight,” Evan assured him. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have in the position.” Then he changed the subject and said, “There are three more dead back a bit to the north.”
“I got two as I got into position,” Ralph stated. “And we have ten bodies here. You think that’s all of em?”
“We can’t know for certain, but I’d think if there were a couple still out there, they’d have lost the desire to fight. Let’s get back to camp. We’ll let the rest know we’re okay and then come back for their weapons at first light.”