The Savage Little Flea

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The Savage Little Flea Page 9

by Steve Shadow


  Her name, I learned, was Fabiola Alonso. As I suspected she was a female wrestler who fought under the name of “La Sirena”.

  We took our seats as Centeno explained that she was the girlfriend of “El Diablo”.

  “I was his girlfriend,” she said in slightly accented English. “But then that culero showed up with that gringa tramp and I told him to get lost.”

  “Hey babe,” Danny protested. “That tramp is my wife.”

  “Well then I am sorry for you because she is not much of a wife, is she?”

  Danny got a little pissed off at that crack and it led to a lot of shouting in rapid Spanish from everyone but me. I could have cared less what was being said. All I could do was stare at this magnificent woman seated across the table from me. The fire in her eyes and her animated speech and gestures had me in a trance. I shook my head and held up my hands.

  “Por favor, everyone. Please, no fighting. Let’s eat and then we can talk business. I looked to Fabiola.

  “I hope you can help us find Camargo. He stole a lot of money from us and we want it back.”

  “Yes, Senor Centeno has told me everything.”

  She turned to Danny. “I will tell you that she was here of her own free will. She could not take her hands off of Luis. It made me sick. I do not understand what he would see in someone old enough to be his mother. Whatever you do to that cabron, he has it coming. He also stole from me and took the entire purse from our last matches before he went to Chicago. I will help you find him and we can all teach him a big lesson.”

  She said this while staring at Danny with a look of total disdain. I felt for him but he was backing the wrong horse in this race. We dropped the subject as waiters started bringing cold beer and ceviche. This was followed by a platter of cold shrimp and lobster with marinated vegetables and avocado slices. After scarfing down all the cold dishes a platter of fish, which they called Huachinango Veracruzano, was served. The fish was cooked in a light broth of tomatoes and onions and strange spices. It was all delicious and we ate like starved dogs. The meal was finished off with some excellent flan and thick coffee.

  During the meal we kept to pleasantries and talk of Vera Cruz. Chuey and Assesino continued to talk of the old days and even Danny lightened up a little. I was happy to just sit and stare at Fabiola and eat.

  “Senor,” I said to Assesino. “The food was delicioso. Everything tasted so fresh. You certainly eat well here in Vera Cruz.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Yes, we have wonderful things here. Between the sea and the rich land our resources are endless. I am glad you like my hotel and my food. I hope that with Fabiola’s help you can get to that no good bastard.”

  Chuey stood up and raised his glass of white wine. “Muchas gracias, amigo; Gracias por todo. Salud!”

  We all stood and offered our thanks to Senor Centeno.

  The dining room which was filled when we came in was now starting to empty out. Senor Centeno was smoking a long cigar and conversing with Chuey. I assumed they were still reminiscing about the old wrestling days. Danny had little to say during our dinner and fell back into a brooding funk. I felt for him but he was kind of a fool to have put up with Shelly all these years. Well love is strange but I think it was really starting to sink in that they were through.

  I found out in the course of our conversation that Fabiola was from Acapulco and had been wrestling for four years. She was gaining some fame but as in America, the women earned much less than the men. She was not stupid and knew that Camargo was taking money off the top of her purses but figured that was what she had to put up with until she could get a real manager and start touring on her own. She asked me if she could come to Chicago and fight for us.

  “Well we have not had any woman luchdoras but why not? What do you think Chuey? Should we have woman fighters?”

  “Si, Jack. Is good idea. I think all the mens be happy to see La Sirena.”

  I looked into her eyes. “I know I’m happy to see her,” I said.

  She grinned and winked at me with her impossibly huge eyelashes. My heart stopped and I nearly slid out of my chair. I was gob-smacked and she knew it.

  We all rose from the table and went outside onto the back patio overlooking the sea. The air was thick but fragrant with the scent of night blooming jasmine. I could hear the waves lap at the beach. A full moon shimmered on the water and the sound of a combo playing latin dance music echoed from another part of the hotel. We were led back inside to where the music was coming from. It was a good-sized night club with a long white bar, dance floor and a scattering of booths along one wall. Couples were gliding around the floor to Brazilian sounding ballads. A large globe spun from the ceiling casting shards of colored light around the room. We were seated at a large table set to one side. Waiters brought champagne and we had another toast. I thought that I could get used to this very easily. Vera Cruz was a long way from Chicago and all my problems. I kept staring at Fabiola and began to day dream about forgetting everything back home and just staying down here and being her manager and lover.

  “Hey Jack,” Danny said as he slapped me on the shoulder. “Snap out of it. We got important matters to discuss.”

  Centeno waved his hand. “No, no business now. Is time for relaxing, we will work things out in the morning.”

  He waved an arm and two lovely ladies in high heels and short dresses appeared at our table.

  “It is time for dancing and maybe something else.” He said this with an evil leer on his face. He stood and took the hand of one of the ladies and led her onto the dance floor. Chuey followed him with the other young lady. He was smiling and waved at me as he whirled the young lady, a foot taller than him, around the floor. I looked to Fabiola.

  “Care for a dance Miss Alonso?”

  She stood and came around the table to me. “I would be honored Senor Sennett.”

  She was as tall as I was and with all her muscles she probably outweighed me. I followed her to the dance floor and took her in my arms. The band was playing a slow cha-cha. I wasn’t much of a dancer but she, despite her heavily toned physique, glided like a pro. I glanced back at Danny who was staring into his drink. I still felt bad for him but was much more interested in the Amazon in my arms.

  She put her cheek to mine and pulled me close as the band segued into another slow ballad. I felt her huge thighs against mine.

  “Listen to me Jack. I am going with you. I am sure he is traveling to the west coast, to Acapulco. He has friends there and a home that his mother lives in. I know Acapulco very well. We will hunt him down but I must warn you. He has connections to many bad people. In his family are criminals and they can be dangerous. We must be careful. Concho will help us all he can with transportation and weapons but it will not be easy. Luis is a big fool but he is cunning. I am not sure what he is up to but it will be no good, I am certain of that.”

  I stopped swaying and held her out at arms length. “I thank you for your help. I am still not exactly sure what I am doing here but I trust Chuey and well, I am sure glad to have met you.”

  Without thinking I leaned forward and kissed her lightly on her red lips. She smiled, reached behind my neck and pulled me to her. She kissed me hard and slid her tongue into my mouth. My knees got weak. The band played on. We danced.

  The evening rolled on. The combo left the bandstand and a DJ took over. His name was Pepe and along with requests he kept the music pumping. The older crowd got off the floor and some much younger guests started gyrating in earnest. Danny had gone back to his room looking worn out and depressed. Chuey and Concho were enjoying the company of the young ladies. Fabiola and I joined the bunch on the dance floor and boogied until I was exhausted. Watching her move that magnificent body was a treat for everyone. When we could dance no more I led her back to my room. She held my hand and followed me without hesitation. As we entered I turned and took her into my arms. I had never before felt such lust for a woman. She was on fire and pushed me back onto my bed. A
s I lay there she began to remove her clothes. The lamp behind her gave off a soft glow that cast a halo over her emerging nude figure. I was hypnotized by her beauty.

  She smiled at me with a sly grin on her face. As she slipped out of her ruby red thong she said, “Hurry Jack and take off your clothes. I am an impatient woman.” I needed no further encouragement and tore off my clothes in a fury.

  The ensuing night time frolic more than made up for my lack of any workout from the day before. I had trouble keeping up with her demands and vowed to get in better shape before she killed me. It was in a state of total collapse and sweaty satisfaction that we finally fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  22

  I awoke with a start. The sun was just beginning to filter into my room. I raised myself up and saw that Fabiola had left while I was asleep. I fell back into the soft pillows. God, I thought, what a night. She was incredible and I wanted more. I was madly in love with this woman. This had never happened to me before. I felt as if I were drugged. My muscles ached and I was sore in places I didn’t even know I had. As I lay there and replayed the past nights pleasures I was hit with the realization of where I was. So many conflicting thoughts roared through my brain. Just what in hell was I up to? I was in a foreign country chasing a criminally connected wrestler. Even if we caught him, what would we do? Would Danny go nutso over Shelly? Did Fabiola intend to kill him? If he had friends to protect him how would we be able to get anything out of him? And what am I supposed to do? I’m no hero. Fabiola said we would have weapons. Was this going to be a running gun battle across Mexico? I had heard all the stories of what happens to gringo’s who run afoul of the police in this country. Visions of rotting in a Mexican prison flashed across my mind. Maybe I should have stayed in Chicago and faced Jules and just paid up. No, that wouldn’t have worked. I kept trying to forget about the two dead men that Malo had disposed of. How could I ever explain that? I felt trapped. I was sinking deeper and deeper into a mess I had little control over. The only thing to do, I guessed, was move forward. We had come this far so we might as well play it out. I thought of my last visit to the Playboy Theater and watching The Wild Bunch. I felt like William Holden and the Bunch going to rescue their compadre Angel from the Mexican army. I just hoped that our little foray didn’t end up like the one in Peckinpah’s movie.

  I checked the time. We were scheduled to meet Assesino for breakfast. Before he left us last night he told us he had more information for us. I called Chuey’s room and told him I would meet him and Danny downstairs in 20 minutes.

  I stepped into the shower with the smell of Fabiola still on me. I literally shivered at the all too vivid memory of her strong thighs wrapped around me. I shook my head to clear away the images while I stood under the tepid stream of water.

  The sky had cleared by the time I came outside and the morning was bright and sunny. A table had been set up for us beside the pool.

  “Buenos dias, everyone,” I said as I took a seat. “Thank you again Senor for a lovely evening.”

  Assesino gave me a big smile. “I see that your meeting Fabiola turned out to be to your liking. Am I right?”

  Chuey chuckled while Danny was silent. “Si, si Senor. That is a beautiful woman. I have never met anyone like her.”

  Chuey punched me in the arm. “See Jack, I tell you everything is wonderful in my country. Tenemos mujeres mas bonitas. I think maybe you now have girlfriend.”

  “I think you’re right Chuey. She is something else.”

  A waiter brought out coffee, fresh fruit, pastries and muffins. We dug in as platters of eggs and bacon joined the other food on the table.

  “Fabiola will join us soon,” said Assesino. “But now, when we have eaten, you will go to see El Maestro. You remember him Chuey? He is still the boss here. We have to get you a vehicle and whatever else you need. Also I think he may know what Luis is up to.”

  “Si,” Chuey said. He turned to me. “Jack, El Maestro is like Mr. Jules but muy grande. He is El Jefe, the boss, in Vera Cruz. Is impossible, you do something and he not know. He must be made the respect but he is muy smart and muy dangerous.”

  Despite Chuey’s garbled syntax I got the picture. I guess it’s the same everywhere; there is always someone that has to be paid off.

  “Jesus, and how much will this cost us?”

  Assesino waved his hand. “Do not make assumptions Jack. You will see him and tell him what you need and see if he has any information that can help you. I cannot say he is a friend but he helped us once many years ago with a cheating promoter.” He turned to Chuey. “Remember that cabron Hernandez? When he ran from the match with all the receipts and we went to El Maestro for help. I still shudder at what we found when they dumped his body at the gym.”

  Chuey shook his head in agreement. “Ay Jack, is true that he help us and we get our money but is no good to be an enemy of him. He is bad man but I think we need him.”

  “Hey you two know the territory. I’m just a turista trying to get our money back. I’m certainly used to dealing with guys like this El Maestro, so let’s go see him.”

  I poked my fork at Danny. “You up for this? You havn’t said a word. You want to go home? Listen Danny I know it’s a blow to you but you got to be with us or don’t come along. Now what’s it going to be?”

  He looked up at me. “Yeah, OK Jack. It’s just hard to deal with all this shit. I’ll be all right.”

  He grabbed a handful of bacon, stuffed it in his mouth and swallowed a cup of coffee. Chuey slapped him on the back.

  “Come on amigo. We will be OK and we take care of the business. We find that Diablo and soon we will be back in the ring; just like old times.”

  We all turned as Fabiola strode to the table. She was dressed in jeans, a tank top and hiking boots. Her hair was pulled back in a pony-tail and she had on very little makeup. It made no difference, she was just as beautiful as she was last night. Even after the long evenings activities and little sleep she still radiated strength and energy.

  “Good morning to you all.” she said as she ruffled my hair and sat down. “Are we ready to go see El Maestro?”

  We all stared at her. I could not believe that I had just spent the night with this woman. I again began to think about forgetting our whole reason for being here. I just wanted to drag her off to some deserted beach and drink and make love all day. I knew that this was just more of the usual Hollywood dream stuff that filled my head and would probably never come true. But we all need our dreams to go on with life.

  23

  We finished our meal and headed out front where the hotels SUV waited. Assesino gave Fabiola the keys.

  “Vaya con Dios, be careful,” he said.

  We climbed in and set off. The cars air conditioner kept us cool as we passed through the colorful street life of Vera Cruz and its bustling commerce. She drove through the city and into the countryside which was lush and green. Fabiola told me to let her and Chuey do the talking. El Maestro, she said, was not overly fond of Americans having spent some time in a Yuma prison. Wonderful, I thought, someone else with a grudge against me.

  After a 20 minute drive she turned down a rutted road and we bounced along for at least a half-mile. We came to a gate guarded by two men carrying automatic weapons. She stopped the car and rolled down the window to speak with them. In a few seconds the heat and fetid smell of the jungle filled the car. Instantly I broke out in a sweat as the thick humidity enveloped us. Fabiola spoke further to the men and they relayed a message via walkie-talkies. The gate was opened and we were waved through.

  I turned to her. “This heat and humidity are overwhelming. This climate can’t be very healthy to live in.”

  “You are right Jack. I only come here for matches. I much prefer the Pacific side which is not so humid. I just hope El Maestro can help us and then we can get out of this place. I have never met him but everyone here has heard stories.”

  Chuey spoke up from the back seat. “I talk to him two tim
es. Is evil man. We only ask for El Diablo; say nothing else. Maybe he remember me and will help us.”

  We stopped on a gravel pathway in front of a large white hacienda. Two more armed men came to the car and opened the door. We walked inside the hacienda and were led to a large atrium where we were patted down then put into a salon overlooking the front grounds. The house was pleasantly cool. The room we were in had high ceilings and colonial style furniture. The tile floor was covered in expensive looking rugs. The walls were ringed with book cases full of what appeared to be leather bound classics. I found the idea of a literate crime boss to be a very interesting anomaly. If this was a Chicago crime boss’s house then all the books would be just made of phony book covers. In the Chicago mob the world of ideas was frowned upon unless it pertained to making money.

  A servant entered the room carrying a tray of what turned out to be a delicious citrus concoction. After passing out the drinks he bowed slightly and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Danny looked around the room and whistled. “Some digs, huh? I guess crime does pay down here.”

  We all nodded in agreement. I had looked through a number of the books on the shelves and they were all real and looked very old and valuable.

  We stood as the door opened and in strode a middle-aged heavy set man. He wore supple looking loafers, tailored linen pants and an over shirt that looked like the ones I had seen on the older Puerto Ricans around the theater. He had grayish hair and small dark eyes set in a rounded face with a narrow slit for a mouth.

  Both Chuey and Fabiola stepped forward and offered their hands. He waved them off with a short brusque gesture and took a seat in front of us. Chuey began to speak but he flicked his hand again and spoke to us in a soft voice. He spoke very rapidly and I did not catch a word. Chuey and Fabiola took seats beside us as we faced him in a semi-circle.

 

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