Lupita felt proud of herself for escaping the shoot-out with the device, but she regretted not bringing the charger. She could have come to a quicker conclusion. Funny enough, since Lupita had come to the community she hadn’t felt the need to play her farm game. Her poor animals must’ve been starving. She turned the phone back on and began to look for any useful information. Other than missed calls and text messages from Celia, Martinez, and some other acquaintances, there were some voice mails from her superiors on the police force, asking her to show up for duty immediately. The last one was Chief Arévalo angrily informing her that she was fired.
She was surprised to hear a voice mail from Conchita Ugalde. Lupita had never received a call from her before. She remembered that the last time they had seen each other was when Lupita threw up in the dance hall bathroom. Conchita had helped her and then asked for her number, to stay in touch.
Lupita moved on to the photos but didn’t find anything relevant until she went through the videos. First she played one where she recorded herself, completely drunk, about to enter a pulquería. She was trying to record and speak at the same time, so the image was very unsteady.
“Lupita the alkie here,” she said between bouts of laughter, “reporting live from pulquería El Gatito.”
“That’s cute, I’m about to enter the puss . . .” Her laughter didn’t let her finish the phrase.
The phone fell, and as she tried to pick it up she lost her balance and fell to the floor. She couldn’t get up.
“Fuuuuuck, that hurt!”
That was the end of that video. The following videos were just as pathetic. Lupita had recorded them during her “seven cantinas tour” prior to the Passion procession. Finally, Lupita clicked on a video she had recorded at the seventh and final cantina. In the video she saw herself drink a shot of tequila, then a waiter approached and told her to stop recording. Lupita became aggressive, and she was escorted from the premises through the back door. The phone was still recording while the cantina employees tried to take it from her hands, but she held them back with what seemed like flying kicks. She was finally thrown to the curb and as Lupita fell the images on the video became a flurry of confusion: lights, hands, feet, cement, shoes. “Come on you motherfuckers!” she screamed. “You don’t want me to record? I’m Lupita the alkie! Queen of undercover reporting! I’ll record the fuck out of you putitos.”
The next video showed Lupita crawling, her drunk face in the foreground as she slowly said, “What is this?” She had turned her phone around so the camera focused on the inside of a basement—shot through a small ground-level window. A group of men were counting cash and stuffing it in empty shoe boxes. From the video Lupita could tell she had adjusted her position and zoomed in. She must have rested the phone against something because the image became stabilized and fixed. Just then Mami entered the basement. Gonzalo Lugo walked toward her and offered his arm. They walked close to the window to have a conversation away from the rest of the people and, unknowingly, closer to Lupita’s camera.
“So, Lugo, how much did you come up with?”
“Only fifty million pesos.”
“That’s not nearly enough. For a political campaign like the one Gomez is planning we will spend that much every day! Let me remind you we’re not just talking about a fucking delegación, he plans to run for mayor of Mexico City after that.”
“I know boss, but drug sales have been slipping.”
“What do you mean slipping? Drugs don’t sell themselves! We sell them, and your people aren’t doing it fast enough.”
“Well, two of our dealers left us to join Salvador.”
“Have you talked to this Salvador? What does he want? What’s his price?”
“I talked to him, but he’s dead set on his warriors of light bullshit and isn’t cooperating.”
“Then send him a message, cabrón. It’s not like you’re new to this. We can’t let this opportunity pass us by. Did you give Gomez the money personally?”
“Yes, along with your message.”
The last phrase was muted by the sound of Lupita throwing up. Mami, alarmed, said, “Who’s out there? Go check it out, pendejos! Hurry!”
The video ended. That’s what Mami was after! Everything was starting to make sense. This video was very important. Lupita had to guard it carefully. Her analytic mind was spinning like crazy. In his conversation with Mami, Gonzalo Lugo had mentioned some guy named Salvador. A few minutes earlier, when Lupita walked to get her phone from her hut so she could charge it with Tenoch, she had crossed paths with Salvador, the shaman’s friend and guest. Salvador had been sitting on the ground surrounded by a group of children. He was teaching them how to carve obsidian. Next to him was a sack with obsidian pieces of all sizes, and he was handing them out along with gloves to protect their hands. Lupita had thought, Good, glass shards can really hurt. Lupita had seen the children making arrows before. They all practiced shooting them with a bow, not so much as a war strategy but as a sport. Cartel hit men attacked their communities with powerful weaponry, but they fought back with weapons of a different sort. Salvador had waved at her and Lupita waved back. Salvador asked how her rib was doing and Lupita said it was much better, but then she asked, “How do you know my rib was broken?”
“I work at the rehab facility where you were admitted. I signed your admission form.”
They talked briefly about the attack and about the police investigation it caused, but Lupita was in a hurry to charge her phone so she politely excused herself and went on her way. Was this the same Salvador who was stealing Mami’s men and recruiting them to his ranks?
Carmela, who asked if she was done ironing the clothes, interrupted Lupita’s deep thoughts. Lupita apologized. The clothes would be ready soon since the coals were now hot enough for the iron.
The first thing that caught Lupita’s attention was the smell of Conchita’s white huipil. It smelled like powdered soap. It was freshly washed but hadn’t been dried out in the sun correctly. Lupita was now used to the pleasant smell of the indigenous women’s clothes. They smelled of burnt firewood, of sun and mountain breeze. Tenoch’s and Conchita’s clothing smelled of city. She was done with the huipil in just five minutes and continued with Tenoch’s shirt. When she smoothed it out on the table she realized she had found the delegado’s shirt! The same shirt she mentioned during her official statement at the police station, with the wrinkled collar. What was that shirt doing among Tenoch’s clothes? She was sure it was the same shirt. The wrinkle on the collar was unmistakable. Lupita remembered the moment she noticed it for the first time.
She had been directing traffic outside the adult education center that the delegado was going to inaugurate. As soon as the delegado’s car had arrived, Lupita showed off her skills with a whistle, trying to make an impression. The delegado was helped out of the backseat of the car by Inocencio. When Larreaga walked beside her, Lupita had noticed the deep wrinkle in his shirt collar. She harshly judged and condemned whoever had ironed the shirt. Did the delegado’s wife not know how to iron? Or didn’t she have someone to do it for her? It was terribly unfortunate that a politician of his stature would be photographed in a shirt in such poor condition.
Lupita ran her fingers over the shirt. The wrinkle was still there, and it wasn’t necessary to wonder why it had remained for so long, especially after being washed. It was like the old saying “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” Boy, did Lupita know about that!
The shirt had come into her life too late yet just in time. How could this be? She couldn’t travel back in time to shove it down her superiors’ throats and prove that she wasn’t wrong about thinking that the missing wrinkle could be a lead. But there was still time to solve Larreaga’s mysterious death. For starters, she could prove the shirt was his because his initials were embroidered on the breast pocket and that was irrefutable evidence. Lupita had to put her thoughts on hold because Carmela returned to fetch the clothes and to ask Lupita to
join the purification ceremony prior to the hit man’s burial. It was imperative that she attended, as she had been the one to take his life. Lupita didn’t object, even though her head was filled with questions. She changed into a white huipil and braided her hair.
The ceremony proved to be very interesting. Conchita used incense to cleanse all the attendants, while a group of women sang and beat on drums. Then she passed a flower bouquet from their heads to their feet in order to free them from evil energies. Next, they wrapped the deceased’s body in a shawl that served as a shroud. Finally Conchita began the ceremony with a prayer:
Sacred Mother Earth, receive this shawled man.
Cleanse his heart.
Open his heart.
Unclog his heart.
Let the divine nourishment you fed him
become food once again.
Let his blood and flesh become
good food.
Cut his ties to darkness with
thirteen obsidian blades.
Let this obsidian tear the black cloak
that covers his soul and let him return to the light
and recognize his true face.
Virgin of Guadalupe, cover him with your mantle
of stars and transform him into
a warrior of the light.
Conchita took an obsidian disc from her clothes and put it on the shawl that covered the corpse, over the man’s heart. Then Tenoch and Salvador used ropes to lower the body into a grave while four women beat on drums. Lupita listened to the chanting, delighted. She felt like an integral part of the ceremony. Both Conchita’s huipil and Tenoch’s shirt looked impeccable thanks to her ironing. There was no doubt that Lupita was a true artist with an iron. As the body was being carefully lowered into the grave, the obsidian disc on the man’s chest slipped and smashed into a thousand pieces against a rock. The sound the obsidian made when it broke was stowed away in Lupita’s mind, and this time it was clear to her. That was one of the first puzzle pieces that found its place, triggering a series of memories of isolated events that began to fit together in her head.
LUPITA LIKED TO ASK QUESTIONS
To know the purpose behind things. To know the hidden causes that pushed people to act a certain way. What intrigued her the most was how some people were silent in the face of injustice, abuse, and illegal activities. She didn’t mean how people remained passive about acts of corruption but how they overlooked actions carried out by people close to them, in their everyday lives, knowing said actions were affecting the lives of many others. For example, she didn’t understand how a woman could ever live with a rapist husband, covering up his crime and never turning him in. Or how people knew that there was a kidnapped person in their neighbor’s house but said nothing out of fear. She didn’t understand why no one tried to get to the bottom of why people consume drugs. Jailing addicts or using police repression would never mitigate illegal drug trafficking. Had nobody thought to analyze the fact that their neighbors to the north consume most of the drugs produced in the world? Why do they medicate themselves so much? She had her own answers for this. For many years, the only option she had at her disposal to prevent things from happening was to not see them, to not hear them, to not be present. That’s why she took drugs. What do the millions of people who consume drugs want to avoid? What do they expect to find when they leave their bodies? What do they seek so desperately? Is it the spirit? Or maybe an essence not contained within the tons of consumer products they accumulate endlessly?
Since she had been living in the countryside her head had been filled with new questions. Why should she keep working for a police force that didn’t really protect the people? Why be under the orders of corrupt elected officials? Why separate her trash and recycling if the truck that came to collect it would mix it again? Why use soaps that contaminate rivers? Why keep buying and buying and buying so much shit? Now that she only possessed the bare necessities, she was finding another meaning to her existence. But, at the same time, she had more questions than ever.
In her search for answers she approached Tenoch when he was alone. The shaman was storing the objects he had used during the ritual ceremony in a satchel. Lupita sat next to him and began her good-intentioned interrogation.
“Excuse me Tenoch, may I ask a few questions?”
“As many as you like.”
Lupita didn’t know how to begin her inquiries, so she shot out a couple of inconsequential questions while she got her thoughts in order.
“Who named you Tenoch?”
“My mom.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I think she dreamt it.”
TENOCH
Tenoch was the name of an Aztec commander who began the Age of Huey Tlatoanis. He was tasked with the very first Ceremony of the New Fire in 1351. It was held at a spot close to Star Hill. In his honor, the city of Cuahumixtitlan changed its name to Tenochtitlán in 1376.
“Why was that obsidian disc put on his chest before you buried him?”
“So he would return to the light.”
“Why?”
“Because if he doesn’t, we won’t either.”
“I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand?”
“What does he have to do with us?”
“We were woven together.”
“By whom?”
“The Universe. Everything is linked. Everything goes together. If someone is disconnected and gets loose, they alter the order of The Whole. That man had forgotten who he was. He didn’t remember. He lived in the dark.”
“But he’s dead. With or without a ceremony, the earth would have received and recycled him.”
“He wasn’t only a body, was he?”
“I don’t know.”
“His body carried out his orders, but he couldn’t govern himself. Look, we, like our forebears, believe that the Universe has a purpose and that we are part of that purpose. Everything that we do has to be aligned with the purpose to keep the balance between light and dark, day and night, life and death. If we ignore that cosmic plan, we will cause an imbalance that will affect not only our life, but also the life of the entire Universe. You can see for yourself how in recent times we have caused ecological, economic, and social disasters because the darkness—in its attempt to defeat light and cover everything—seeks out those who live without a purpose and outside of the cosmic order. The man we buried had forgotten he was a part of us. He had a false image of himself. He was looking into a black mirror, and that is the reason for the obsidian disc.”
“You gave him a black mirror so he could see his light? I don’t understand.”
“Darkness is not the absence of light.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“Obsidian reflects light because it contains light. We use the sharp obsidian to cut through the darkness and liberate the light. Obsidian mirrors are used with that purpose. To see our dark side but also come in contact with our luminous side.”
“Is that why you killed the delegado with an obsidian disc?”
Tenoch kept quiet for a few seconds. “Yes.”
“So the Universe called for the delegado’s death?”
“Although you say it with sarcasm, yes. It did. In our country there are more and more people who are disconnected from everything. The use of drugs produces disconnection. The money obtained from illegal drug sales is used to create further separation, more chaos and destruction. People—without becoming conscious of it—seek to reconnect with The Whole by using drugs to escape their bodies. But instead of returning to the universal energy they become more disconnected because they use artificial drugs instead of sacred plants. They seek dealers instead of shamans. It’s time for change. We must work for the light. We must return to it and connect to it, ignite the sun in our hearts. Our ancestors handed down the knowledge to conduct the Ceremony of the New Fire, which corresponds to the movements of the stars in the sky with harmony and the equilibrium of forc
es. The place where it must be performed is a site close to Star Hill. It’s a sacred location, and it has to be there.”
“And it’s no longer possible to have the ceremony there because Larreaga handed over the land to Mami so she can build a tourist trap mall where her people will also distribute drugs.”
“Exactly.”
“Did the delegado’s betrayal make him deserve death?”
“Death doesn’t exist.”
“Well my son died in my arms,” Lupita said sarcastically.
“That doesn’t mean he’s dead.”
“He’s not?” she continued with her sarcastic tone. “Where is he then?”
“In every particle of the Universe. In the invisible. I know the fact that you can’t see him seems intolerable, but that’s not what hurts you the most.”
“It isn’t?”
“No. What hurts you the most is that you haven’t apologized to him for killing him.”
Lupita’s eyes peeled wide open with surprise. “Did Celia tell you this?”
“Who’s Celia?”
“Never mind.”
“Nobody told me. The Mayans were right when they said that the cosmos is a resonating womb and that if we connect to it through the umbilical cord of the Universe we can access all the information we want. That’s what I do. I connect. Would you like to connect to your son?”
[2013] Pierced by the Sun Page 10