The Chalupa Conundrum

by Lyle Christie

  She of course smiled as she watched me.

  “Oh, sorry, I think you’re going to need something a bit bigger,” she said.

  “I believe so,” I said, as I tried to keep the inadequately sized swath of fabric centered over my gentleman region as I walked to the cupboard and grabbed a proper sized towel.

  “Well, now that the show’s over, I guess I’ll wait out in the living room,” Stephania said.

  “Gracias, I’ll be out in a minute.”

  I proceeded to dry off, then I put on deodorant, face cream, and cologne and picked out a set of fresh clothes. This time I chose shorts and a button up shirt, which I wore over my T-shirt—the goal being that I would have a place to hide a gun if the need arose. I ventured out into my beautiful living room and saw that Stephania was sitting on the leather sofa and looking very much at home as she sipped a bottle of Pilsen beer—a tasty Costa Rican bohemian pilsner.

  “I got you a beer as well,” she said, pointing at the table.

  “Thanks, you’re an excellent hostess,” I said, as I grabbed it and took a seat before reaching over and clinking her bottle.

  “To the Hitzig sisters,” I said.

  We sipped our beers and eyed each other curiously for a moment until the sound of knocking interrupted the moment.

  “Come in,” I said, in a high fanciful sounding voice.

  The door opened, and there stood Alessandra looking utterly beautiful in a short, tight, evening dress. Oddly, she looked rather surprised to see that her sister was still here and, stranger still, kicking back and drinking a beer with me. She closed the door and came over and took a seat beside me.

  “Beer?” I asked.

  “Love one,” she said.

  “I’ll get it,” Stephania said, jumping up and grabbing a beer from the refrigerator.

  “I see you’ve met my little sister. Did she do a good job of helping you settle in?” Alessandra asked, as she eyed her sister.

  I looked at Stephania, and we shared a little smile.

  “Yeah, she was great.”

  Stephania gave me a little wink, and the Hitzig sisters and I enjoyed our beers and chatted until it was time to head to the restaurant. At that point, I took a final pee, brushed my teeth, and pondered whether or not I should bring my pistol. I picked it up and thought about sliding it into my waistband, but Alessandra's words about this being a college campus and not the place to be waiving around a gun kept nagging at the back of my mind, so I slid it back into its holster and left it hidden in my toiletry bag before rejoining the women.

  “Let’s do this, Hitzigs!” I said.

  We left my lovely, though temporary, dwelling and were soon walking through the campus, where young people were milling about, talking, studying, and listening to music on their various electronic devices. Not surprisingly, every single one of the menfolk looked our way, as they were obviously enjoying the sight of the Hitzig sisters, who were a marching, charging two woman army of feminine charm. Just off the main square, we took a right into a small, rather dark alleyway, as it was probably a shortcut that would lead us to the Street of Bitterness and, in turn, the restaurant where we would be meeting Alessandra's students.

  “Is this the scenic route?” I asked.

  “Not unless you like bare walls and concrete,” Alessandra joked.

  At the halfway point, two men stepped out from the shadows, and my scrot-sense instantly started to tingle and give me a very bad feeling. We continued walking until the guy on the right, a bulky hispanic man, made a point of stepping out and blocking our path.

  “Do you have your gun?” Alessandra whispered.

  “No, you told me to keep it on the down-low because it was illegal to have it on the campus.”

  “Next time, I think you should ignore me.”

  “I definitely will if there’s a next time,” I said.

  The man on the left, whose face was still in shadow, spoke first.

  “Hello again, Mr. Finn.”

  “Oh, have we met before?”

  He stepped forward until he was in the light, and there before me was my latin menace.

  “Who is he?” Alessandra asked.

  “A charming fellow I met on the plane. He’s also a teacher, but he works at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hello, Professor Snape. What brings you so far away from Hogwarts?” I asked.

  He almost smiled.

  “Ladies, if you wouldn’t mind continuing on your way, we have business with Mr. Finn,” he said.

  “Mr. Finn is my personal responsibility, so I will not be going anywhere without him,” Alessandra said.

  The guy on the right pulled out a Glock Pistol and pointed it in our general direction.

  “Ladies, I believe you might want to continue on without me,” I said.

  Alessandra stepped forward and motioned at her sister.

  “Stephania, go get campus security.”

  Stephania stood frozen, unsure what to do.

  “Both of you should go. I’ll be OK. I promise.”

  “No,” Alessandra said, indignantly.

  Professor Alessandra Hitzig had some serious lady balls. Not many people maintained their composure when facing off against an armed adversary—least of all in a dark alley.

  “We’ve wasted enough time. Finn is coming with us,” the guy said, shoving Alessandra back.

  The guy with the gun used his free hand to grab my shoulder and drag me away from the women, which was a major tactical error on his part, as it gave me a clearer picture of his skill set, or, more accurately, the lack thereof. A skilled thug kept his prey far enough out of range that he’d have time to react should his victim make a move for the weapon. Snape’s henchman, however, wasn’t that sharp, and the closer he got me to his pistol, the easier it would be to take it from his meaty, sweaty little fingers.

  He was holding me by the collar as he dragged me backwards and away from the girls, and I gave a little resistance to test the waters, so Snape gave me a pretty hard punch to the ribs. It was probably to show he meant business, but it might also have been intended as a little retribution after our brawl on the plane. Nobody like to get bested, drugged, and left in an airplane lavatory.

  “I understand if you’re still a little miffed about the incident on the plane, but holding a grudge only hurts the grudge-holder,” I said.

  He punched me again in the same spot then smiled.

  “I’m not so sure about that, as I’m feeling pretty good after that last punch.”

  I guess he didn’t want to play nice anymore, but I had to go along for the moment, so that I didn’t do anything that would endanger the Hitzig sisters. Once we were well away, I decided I had enough room to maneuver, and it was time to take care of business. After all, I had food, drink, and at least two lovely dinner companions.

  “Alrighty then, Snape, there’s no need for you and your chubby henchman here to be so pushy,” I said, as I turned around to face them.

  As far as I knew, only the big guy was armed, but, as I’d already learned from our previous encounter, Professor Snape was pretty good with his hands. That meant I had to get the big guy’s gun quickly and before Snape could intercede. Fortunately, he was holding it one handed and rather nonchalantly, which meant he was over confident and had no idea of the skills of his mark. That was also an indicator that they didn’t have any intel on me or my background. Advantage—Finn. I held my hands open and in front of me in my usual non-aggressive placating manner.

  “Guys, there’s no need to be dramatic. Let’s talk this through—starting with how I can help you.”

  “We’d prefer to speak privately if you don’t mind, so it’s best if you come with us.”

  “That might be OK were it not for the fact that I’m about to have dinner with two of the most beautiful women in Costa Rica.”

  “You can meet up with them later.”

  “I’d really like to accommodate you guys, but the problem is that my parents always told m
e never to talk to strangers, and, more importantly, to never ever miss out on an opportunity to spend the evening with a couple of beautiful women, so I’m respectfully going to have to decline your offer.”

  “I don’t think you understand the seriousness of the situation.”

  “OK, then fine, tell me who you work for and what this is concerning, and I might have a different perspective.”

  “You don’t need to know at this point.”

  “Then I guess we’re back to square one, which means it’s a good thing campus security is here,” I said, looking over their shoulders.

  It was a lie intended to create a diversion, and, as both men turned and looked, I stepped in and to the side of the big guy and took hold of his gun hand in order to trap the weapon in place. Now that I’d closed the distance and secured the weapon, I twisted it counter clockwise and in towards his chest, all the while being sure to keep it pointed away from any friendlies. This move strained both the tendons and ligaments and caused him to go with the pain and drop to the ground. There, I easily slid the gun from his hand and looked up just in time to see Professor Snape moving in to strike. In close quarters, it was important to maintain control of the weapon, so it was generally a good idea to create a little distance between you and your aggressor. I brought up my left foot and delivered a front kick to Snape that caught him in the groin and brought his head down. There, I slammed the pistol into his right temple and knocked him to the ground. The big guy started to get up, so I grabbed his head with my free hand and struck him in the face with my knee and put him down beside Snape.

  “Sorry, boys, but a gentleman never keeps a lady waiting, so, I suggest you go back to Hogwarts and visit Madam Pomfrey. Alrighty then, ladies, we’re free to continue on our way!” I called out to the girls.

  Alessandra and Stephania cautiously walked back over to me but stayed well away from the men kneeling on the ground.

  “Hungry?” I asked.

  Neither answered.

  “Well, I’m starving, so let’s get this party started,” I said.

  We continued on down the alley, and, by the time we reached the street and joined in with the throngs of young people, Professor Snape and his friend were long gone. The Hitzig sisters finally relaxed, and, one block later, we were at our destination and taking a seat at a large secluded table in the back corner of the restaurant. Soon thereafter, a young man of about twenty came by to see if we wanted anything to drink, and I decided to order a pitcher of the same Pilsen we’d had at my faculty suite. As the waiter turned to leave, Alessandra abruptly called him back.

  “Excuse me, but I’d like to add three shots of Patron Tequilia please,” she said.

  “Which one?”

  “The silver.”

  “I sure hope all three of those aren’t just for you,” I said.

  “Oh, did you want one?” she asked with a smile.

  “Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind one.”

  The waiter left then returned soon thereafter with a tray full of liquid sunshine, and Stephania, Alessandra, and I held up our shot glasses and toasted.

  “To an exciting beginning of the evening,” Alessandra said.

  “And may it hopefully be a little less so from here on out,” I added.

  We finished our shots, then Alessandra slapped her empty glass down on the table and spoke.

  “So, what the hell was all that business in the alley about?” she asked.

  “Not sure exactly, but I can only imagine it has something to do with the ever deepening mystery surrounding the fucking ancient city of Chalupa.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Professor Hot Sauce

  ALESSANDRA'S GRAD STUDENTS arrived shortly thereafter, and we went from a threesome to a party of seven that consisted of four girls and three guys, which seemed like a pretty nice ratio—for the guys, anyway. The new arrivals took a seat, and Alessandra set about making introductions.

  “People, this is Tag Finn, and he’s here on behalf of UCLA to find the missing scientists from the Chalupa site. Tag, this is Julio, Carina, Ricardo, and Isabella.”

  “Nice to meet you all,” I said.

  Before me was an interesting sampling of college graduate students, and, on the male side of the equation, we had Julio and Ricardo, and they were both fit, fairly handsome, a little under six feet tall, and looked like typical academics with their button up shirts and khaki pants. Ricardo, however, kept his hair a little longer and scruffier while Julio was ever so slightly more clean cut. On the female side of the graduate student equation, we had a little more variation, or perhaps I was just a little more discerning of females. Carina was probably no more than twenty-five, wore glasses, and kept her brown hair pulled tightly back in a ponytail. She was actually quite attractive, but her default expression was so serious that it took away from her beauty and made her look plain and bookish. Still, she had a lovely figure that included some full breasts and a hearty backside that made the Lone Ranger in my pants say high-ho-Silver! Isabella was also quite attractive, though her figure was more lithe and athletic, and she had an angelic face with plump lips, and wore her long, beautiful brown hair down. Unlike Carina, Isabella seemed to be suffering from RHF, or Resting Happy Face. It was the exact opposite to its counterpart RBF, or Resting Bitch Face, and it made her look warm and approachable.

  “Nice to meet you,” they all said.

  Now that everyone was settled in and we’d all been properly introduced, the waiter swung by our table to take our orders. It turned out we were lucky to be in their happy hour half-priced taco window, and we all ordered platefuls of tacos. Ten minutes later, our food arrived as well as more booze, and our gathering turned into a small party. Conversation filled the air as we dined and drank, and, once we finished dinner and our dishes were cleared, the restaurant’s lights were dimmed, and our waiter returned to light the candles on our table, as they apparently liked to set a more romantic mood in the later part of the evening. We ordered more beers, then Alessandra and her female students excused themselves to use the restroom. We menfolk were now left to fend for ourselves, and a brief silence ensued until it was broken by Ricardo.

  “So, what do you think of Professor Hot Sauce?”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle at his nickname for Alessandra.

  “I like her, and I like her nickname.”

  “Yeah, the students christened her that during her first semester here, and it’s pretty much stuck to this day.”

  “Well, it makes perfect sense, as she is ridiculously hot.”

  “More like burning hot.”

  “Yeah, and that combined with her brains and personality makes her a triple boner threat,” I responded.

  “Well, I’m not exaggerating when I say that most of the guys in the graduate archaeology program are only there because of her.”

  “I don’t blame them. If I had a professor like her, I probably would have never left college.”

  “Yeah, I’m thinking about doing a post-doc just so I can stick around,” Julio said.

  We shared a little laugh, then Ricardo brought us onto the next typical man topic, which, as expected, also concerned the females.

  “Dude—and how about her sister?” he asked.

  “She obviously has the same amazing family genetics,” I said.

  “Yeah, the Hitzig sisters are quite a pair and have quite a pair,” Julio said, as he cupped his hands in front of his chest.

  “Oh, yes they do, and how is it one family can have not one but two daughters with such seriously amazing…”

  I immediately stopped talking when the guys around the table abruptly turned their attention to something behind me, and I turned around to see Alessandra and the others standing there.

  “Back so soon?” I asked, a little uncomfortably.

  “Yes, and please feel free to continue with what you were about to say.”

  “There’s no need, as it wasn’t that important.”

  “Oh no, I’m su
re it was, so please continue.”

  Obviously, Professor Hot Sauce was not going to drop it, so I decided I might as well just man-up and go with it.

  “Well now, Professor Hot Sauce, I wish that we had been discussing the human condition or important world events, but, as it turns out, we were just talking about you and your sister’s boobs.”

  Ricardo and Julio stared wide-eyed in fear of what their graduate advisor might say in response to my use of her nickname as well as my brazen admittance that we had been discussing her and her sister’s plentiful boobies. As expected, Alessandra stared at me with her big hazel eyes unblinking, but she finally broke the tension by laughing out loud.

  “Of all the things in the world to talk about—you assholes chose our boobs,” she said, as she shook her head slowly side to side.

  “Men are simple creatures driven by simple desires, and chief among those desires are boobs—the plump and docile inhabitants of your upper chest that spend their lives inadvertently filling our thoughts and grazing upon our hearts.”

  Alesandra smiled.

  “Wow, Tag. You are apparently very thoughtful and poetic when it come to boobs.”

  “They are one of my life’s passions.”

  “Obviously.”

  “So, how was your bathroom excursion? Did any of you wily females sneak in a deuce while you were in there?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “A deuce, a numero dos—a poop.”

  “Oh, did any of us take a shit—well, not that I’m aware of, but I do find that to be a fairly peculiar question.”

  “It’s just research I’m compiling for my own private study on the bathroom habits of women versus men. I’ve found that men can pee quickly, but they take forever to poo, whereas women take more time to pee, but they can also poo in that same amount of time.”

  Alessandra laughed.

  “Anyone ever tell you that you are a very strange man?”

  “Pretty much everyone I meet.”

  She smiled.

  “Well, I hate to admit it, but you’re probably on to something,” she said, as she and the other girls sat back down at the table.

  Conversation ensued, and Alessandra turned to me and smiled.