The Killing of Miguel

by Christopher Mcafee

  The ground beneath my feet stopped trembling, and a once red sky was now blue as the sun peaked through the clouds. I walked to the locked gate of Hades and, using my gleaming sword, easily cut the locks and pushed open the entrance. I exited the gate and made my way to Miguel’s head, which was protruding through the fence posts. His Evil eyes that had once frightened me now were blank. As an endless trail of souls continued escaping from hell, I severed Miguel’s head, lifted it high, and pointed my gleaming sword to the sky and proclaimed victory!

  Chapter 34

  I had only closed my eyes for a second. When I opened them, my magnificent breast plate was gone. My sword was back to being my Holy Stick. I glanced over my shoulder to find no evidence of wings. The serpent’s head that I held in my hand was now the head of a harmless bush snake. My heart pounded as I looked at my surroundings. There were no “Gates of Hell” or any other evidence that Armageddon or any other biblical battle had occurred.

  I was standing in a barren desert without a soul in sight. I gathered my thoughts and saw a trail of dust approaching me. I was too tired to run to it or away from it.

  As it grew closer, I recognized it as Benny atop Olympus, with Mercury close behind, running at breakneck speed. Then they stopped just feet from me.

  Benny looked at the snake head in my hand.

  “Miguel?”

  “Yeah.”

  He nodded, then said. “Let’s go home.”

  I dropped the snake head and picked some snakeskin from the amulet on my Battle Ring. I mounted Mercury, and we returned to camp.

  I neglected to tell Benny that I had followed his strategy to the letter by “cutting the head from the snake to kill the body.” As I thought of that, a smile crossed my face.

  Word had already spread of Miguel’s death. I was expecting a hero’s welcome, but I remembered the old man speaking of St. Michael being humble and not expecting to be regaled as a hero. We found that the camp was nearly desolate, with only a few soldiers left. They were packing up supplies. The radio equipment had already been packed up, keeping me from contacting Jake or Don immediately.

  “It’s been a long battle. These guys just want to go home.”

  Was he talking of the battle to restore democracy to Ecuador or the eternal battle between Good and Evil?

  As Benny prepared to leave, I gathered my belongings and dug through my duffel, searching for something semi clean to wear. I found the snake bite kit that Jake had given me. I snickered and tossed it aside.

  Benny and I met to say our goodbyes. It was safe to say that neither of us would ever forget each other. I was certain that all of the military training in the world would not have prepared him for the Evil we had faced.

  He spoke: “We are headed back to Los Rios to meet with my Father and to reorganize the military. We have sent a plane to pick up President Santiago. Miguel’s followers have already vacated the palace. You are welcome to join us, and maybe we can get you a ride to Talara, where you could contact your friends and make arrangements for a safe return to your home.”

  The thought of a nearly two-day trip in a bumpy halftrack didn’t seem very appealing, and I knew that there was a small village named Salinas thirty miles or so from camp that had telephone and telegraph service. I thought that if I took off immediately and was lucky enough to hitch a few rides, I could be there in a few hours.

  I declined Benny’s offer, and he replied, “Thanks for your service, Steven.”

  “Just following orders, Benny.”

  Smiles were exchanged, and he mounted Olympus. I gave Mercury a pat on the nose.

  He motioned the convoy to proceed. I watched the consummate warrior disappear into the distance, and he gave me his final words: “Good luck with the rest of your journey.’’

  I had thought that after I killed Miguel, my journey would be over and all I would have to do was find my way home.

  Chapter 35

  I started walking, showing my thumb to oncoming motorists. Since the death of Miguel and the newly optimistic outlook for democracy in Ecuador, the citizens were now leaving their homes and trying to gain some type of normalcy in their lives. But I was still cautious, as I felt that maybe a few of Miguel’s followers were still at large.

  A pickup truck with a sign on the side pulled up next to me, and a Hispanic-looking driver motioned me to get in. I pointed the general direction of my destination and gave him the name of the town I sought.

  He nodded and smiled. I threw my duffel in the back and climbed in. The air was thick, and the previous day’s events had worn me out. I leaned back in hopes of catching a nap before reaching my destination.

  While sleeping, I found myself being moved side by side as the driver made several turns. I was awakened by the feeling that we were no longer on a paved road leading to Salinas. Dust filled the truck cab as it sped down a dirt road with a farm in the distance. I had no idea in which direction we were headed and no idea where it was he had even picked me up.

  The driver smiled as he exited the truck, looking like he had just done me a huge favor. I climbed from the pickup truck and examined my surroundings. Before me lay a huge plantation with hundreds of acres of bananas. Tractors zoomed back and forth in a bee hive of activity. An older gentleman smoking a pipe approached, speaking English in a midwestern folksy accent.

  He addressed the driver: “Fernando! Did you get the fence wire I asked for?”

  Fernando nodded and pointed towards me.

  “Are you looking for work, son?” the gentleman asked.

  “No, sir. I was headed to Salinas to use their phones or telegraph to call some friends.”

  I could tell that he was surprised at my use of English.

  “Well, we don’t get very many Anglos here. From where do you hail, son?”

  I gave him the name of my hometown, and he responded with a huge smile and a hand shake. “You don’t say? I went to agricultural college just a stone’s throw from there.”

  I saw him glance at my right hand.

  “My, that’s quite a ring you have there. I bet there’s a story behind it.”

  I placed my left hand over my Battle Ring. “No, sir. Just a gift from a friend.”

  He nodded and thankfully didn’t pursue the question.

  We continued to exchange banter on our knowledge of our past living locations. I felt that time was being wasted, and I reluctantly interrupted him. “Sir? Do you know a way I could get back on the road to Salinas? I really need to call my friends.”

  He seemed disappointed that I wanted to end our conversation, as I was sure he didn’t have much in common with anyone else locally.

  “I’m sorry, son. The phones have been down ever since that Miguel fellow took over. Even ours is out. I heard someone killed him, and Santiago is due back shortly. I’m sure they’ll get the phones back up sometime soon. You’re welcome to stick around here. We sure could use a hand harvesting our crop. I can’t offer you much, just a daily wage and at the end of the day a hot shower, warm food, and a comfortable cot.”

  It was the best offer I’d gotten since I left the Karcher Estate, and the gentleman seemed pleased that I accepted his offer. I was kicking myself for not going with Benny.

  We continued talking, and then he said that they were done for the day and that I should shower and ready myself for supper. I had lost track of the last time I was totally clean. I was used to washing up at the Freedom Fighters camp using the rainwater from a cistern. The hot water pulsed on my body and even washed some cindery dust from my body, making me relive my battle with Miguel.

  The food was great. The plantation was like its own little city. They grew vegetables and raised field corn to feed chicken and livestock and then used them to feed the workers and their own family. They even used the manure from the livestock as fertilizer. It was nearly self-sufficient. After supper I was invited to sit on the front porch and gab some more with this older gentleman who gave me his life story.

  He told
me his name was Cletus Bower of “Bower’s Bananas.”

  “Pretty catchy, huh?” he would later say. He professed to being eighty years old but didn’t look a day over sixty. He attributed his long life to “clean living and a personal relationship with God.”

  In his youth, he had been in the process of being groomed to take over his family’s farm after graduating from Agricultural College.

  “But I got a calling,” he said. “Not a religious calling, but I felt I was needed somewhere else to grow crops and help the unfortunate. I joined the Peace Corps, and they assigned me to this small banana plantation. I helped with soil samples and irrigation and assisted on the business part of it. I fell in love with the people and their way of life. The previous owner passed away, and his family wanted nothing to do with the farm, so I purchased it. Since I bought this place, I’ve built new cabins for the workers, installed hot water in the workers’ bathrooms, and turned one of the buildings into a makeshift church for them to pray in. I’ve had numerous offers to sell. But I just can’t do it. These workers are my family. I’ve dedicated fifty years of my life to this place.”

  He seemed sad, and I commended him on his fortitude.

  “I know my time is coming to an end, and I really don’t have anyone to pass this farm onto. I was married to a wonderful lady named Maria. She was a local girl who came to work for me. Our eyes met, and I knew I had found my one true love. She passed this last spring. She’s buried at the west edge of property. If ever you can’t find me, that’s where I’ll be. Have you ever had that feeling, Steven? Where you met someone and you knew she was the one?”

  “Yes, sir…yes I have.”

  He seemed even sadder, and he changed the subject. “I do have one bright spot in my life: my granddaughter. Poor thing, she lost her mom to cancer a while back, and her father abandoned her when she was young. And after all that, she pines for a boy whom she fell in love with long ago. They were separated, but she never said how it happened. She helps in the kitchen, but for the most part, she’s a recluse. If she could meet a young man whom I could train to take over this place, I could die peacefully.”

  There was a lull in the conversation, and I sat quietly as he composed himself.

  A ball came bouncing onto the porch. It startled both of us, and Cletus laughed as he threw it back to the kids who had kicked it. Among the children playing was the worker who had picked me up. Because of his size and age, he looked out of place. Cletus noticed that I was watching him.

  “That’s Fernando,” he said. “He is truly one of God’s wonders. He is a mute but is the most loyal person I know. He was abandoned when he was an infant. Maria and I raised him, educated him, and saw that he had a wonderful life.”

  Cletus continued: “When God takes away one ability, He often compensates that person in another way. Fernando has a sixth sense about him. I’ve learned not to question it. Sometimes he will do something that makes absolutely no sense, and later it makes perfect sense.”

  His talk turned to farming, and he asked if I could drive a tractor.

  “No, but I’ve driven a mower before, and I used to help this girl I knew with her garden,” I said, referring to my time at the golf course and the few times I had helped Beth pick green beans.

  “No matter, son. I’ll teach you in the morning.”

  I remembered some of my father’s friends who were older, and how when they would talk to a young male they always called them “son” as a term of endearment.

  When Cletus called me “son,” it was like he really meant it.

  ***

  A rooster crowing was one sound I never thought I would hear. But on the farm, it was a daily occurrence. It was my first morning, and Cletus met me at his front door with a smile and an eagerness to train a kid who had no idea how a farm or farm machinery worked.

  He drove the tractor, and I sat on the rear wheel well. I watched him with his fifty years of experience maneuver this farm vehicle with ease. Now it was my turn. He was patient with me as I struggled with easing out the clutch and giving it gas. I perfected riding without stalling the engine, and Cletus remained calm as if I were his son. I finally reached a point where I didn’t let the tractor lunge ahead and put lives at stake.

  My job was to take an empty wagon to the pickers and then hook onto a full wagon and take it to be processed. There were many tractors with the same job, and Cletus spoke intently that I had to be speedy and keep up with the others. After several hours, I felt like a veteran.

  But it was hot! So hot! The Freedom Fighters camp had been mostly shaded and out of direct sunlight.

  Pleas from the workers for water were answered by Cletus.

  “Hang in there, boys. I’ll get my granddaughter. Alexa! Get these workers some water!”

  The mention of his granddaughter’s name caused me to panic, and I slammed on the brakes, causing the tractor behind me to collide with my wagon. Spanish curse words were spewed in my direction, as I had interrupted the flow of tractors from the pickers to the processing area.

  “Sorry!” I yelled, thinking that somehow if I yelled loudly in English that it would be translated into Spanish.

  The rest of the day I spent being cautious but “rubber necking” to see if I could get a glimpse of Cletus’s granddaughter. It was like she had all but disappeared.

  After the day’s work, I showered and readied myself for supper. The whole time I was wondering about Cletus’s granddaughter. It would be impossible that his granddaughter would be the Alexa that I fell in love with. The odds just weren’t there.

  But then again, this whole journey of destiny and fate had no rules. Common sense had been thrown out the window long ago.

  Was it fate that had led me to not go with Benny to Los Rios? And was it fate that Fernando (with his sixth sense) had picked me up and delivered me to my destiny of reuniting with my one true love?

  I made several attempts to get a glance at “Alexa,” but I always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I would sometimes see her from behind filling a water jug. Or I would see her entering the kitchen, turning her head away from me as I tried to look. It was as if she was looking at me, but she was wary of me seeing her. The job of driving the tractor was virtually nonstop, and I remembered what Cletus had said about her being a recluse.

  ***

  My first Sunday was welcoming as I showered and put on some clean clothes. Cletus reminded me of church, which meant he expected me to go. Out of habit, I glanced at my Battle Ring. It remained calm. I scoured the room in hopes of seeing Alexa. I guessed that she would sit alongside her grandfather.

  Cletus sat in the front row with Fernando and motioned me to an open seat next to him. But no Alexa.

  The service was held by one of the workers who was an ordained priest. The entire service was in Spanish. In my brief time in Ecuador, I had picked up bits and pieces of the language, but I understood it as well as a high school student after the first lesson, meaning I grasped little or none.

  Cletus looked intent as the priest presented a fire-and-brimstone speech, and I saw a tear form in his eye. He didn’t try to hide the fact that he was moved by the spiritual speech. Fernando appeared oblivious to the words, and he made faces at the children behind him. He was a child in a man’s body.

  At the conclusion of the service, a picnic-style lunch was served, and I overindulged and felt sleepy. I walked to the front of the farm, which faced a main road. It was the only part of the farm I hadn’t seen. Across the road was a hill with abundant wildflowers and a large oak tree. It was a scene familiar, from the dreams of my youth.

  I climbed the hill and sat leaning against the tree as the smell of honeysuckle filled the air. The view was beautiful, and you could see the entire farm, including a beautiful section on the west side that was adorned by Maria’s headstone.

  I felt very much at home.

  Peaceful.

  The thick Ecuadorian air was replaced by a gentle cooling breeze. I dr
ifted off.

  The wind picked up, and I was awakened by the sound of footsteps approaching. Before me stood a woman with long blonde hair and a smallish figure. The wind blew the hair from her eyes, revealing her face.

  It was Alexa.

  My Alexa.

  I clumsily stumbled to my feet as she let out a giggle. We stood looking at each other.

  “I knew you would find me,” she said.

  I nodded and hugged her. It was an epic embrace from two souls that were destined to be reunited forever.

  I took her wedding ring off my little finger and placed it on her ring finger. It fit perfectly.

  Following the increased wind came a downpour of rain. We held hands and ran down the hill, seeking refuge, laughing with smiles on both our faces.

  We ducked into one of the many buildings and kissed. Just like our embrace, it was epic.

  We were both in tears at being reunited. I thought of all that I had been through, sometimes wondering if it was all worth it.

  It was.

  We exchanged life stories from when we were separated. I left out some of my story, as it was just too crazy to believe. She confessed to selling her soul in hopes of curing her mother of cancer. She never made any reference to me killing Miguel at the “Gates of Hell,” and I made a point to never bring it up.

  We decided to keep quiet about our “new” relationship. We would meet secretly at night and act like giddy high schoolers on their first date. After a few weeks, we decided to make our relationship known.

  It was a Sunday, and I was preparing myself for Sunday service. Cletus was already at church when I approached the house. Alexa exited the back door looking so angelic that it actually took my breath away.

  We entered the makeshift church and spied Cletus in the front row. We approached the pew, and Fernando gave me a knowing wink. Cletus turned and did a double take. A huge grin crossed his face as he made room for Alexa and me. The service commenced, and I saw a few more tears from Cletus than usual.

  Chapter 36