Renegade

by Lou Cameron

  The American sat down across from him and smiled thinly as he said, “Good morning, Professor. I see you got safely across the border after all.”

  “I have never forgotten the kindness you showed me, Lieutenant.”

  “Forget it. I’m a captain now. That trooper you folks shot after I looked the other way got me … Never mind. It’s water under the bridge.”

  General Carillo gasped, “Nombre de Dios, Professor! Is this that Yanqui officer you told me so much about? The one who refused to turn you over to the federales?”

  “Yes, and I’m afraid we repaid his kindness badly. I suppose I owe you some explanations, my young friend?”

  “I told you to forget it, Professor. Now that I’ve seen your Rurales in action I can see why you weren’t anxious to be turned over to them.”

  “You see, when those American soldiers intercepted us—”

  “A man does what he has to, to stay alive.”

  “Then you bear me no grudge?”

  “A few weeks ago I would have killed you on sight. But, what the hell, we both got away and I’ve had time to see what you’re up against. Let’s start from scratch.”

  He held out his hand and the old man took it, looking like he was about to cry. General Carillo slapped Captain Gringo on the back and shouted, “By my very God, the man is a Christian as well as a machine gunner! Attend me, all of you! If any man here lets Captain Gringo buy his own drinks in this pueblo I shall personally cut his balls off, at the neck!”

  Someone shoved a mason jar of pulque in front of the American and he said, “Thanks. What’s this about a troop train?”

  The professor took a folded map from his coat and spread it on the planks between the jars of cactus brew, saying, “Los Rurales have been afraid to attack us in this part of the country, up to now. My friends in the government tell me they are sending Army troops to make a sweep across the desert.”

  “Your friends in the government, Professor?”

  “Of course. Did you think all Mexicans were barbarians? I, myself, was a senator until recently. El Presidente Diaz goes through the mockery of pretending Mexico is a democracy. I was unfortunately foolish enough to oppose the tyrant’s more outrageous proposals and, naturally, now have a price on my head. Others in the city prefer more caution. They have no choice but to publically support Diaz. But that is not to say they approve his roughshod ways. Suffice to say, I keep abreast of government matters.”

  Carillo said, “The professor is worth his weight in gold. Without him we would simply be bandits, dodging Los Rurales like the poor Yaqui.”

  “About the train,” insisted the professor, stabbing a bony finger at the map as he added, “once they get the troops deployed we’ll have no choice but a run back to the mountains. They, too, have machine guns. They have a battery of new French field guns, too. Colonel Gaston, here, says they can lob an explosive shell five kilometers. The train will cross the desert, here, late at night. If we can wreck it and strand the survivors out in the middle of nowhere—”

  Carillo cut in, “Hey, what is this shit about survivors? My men and me will eat them up!”

  The old man sighed and said, “General, your orders are not to get your men killed against hopeless odds. I’ve explained about delaying tactics until I’m blue in the face.”

  The American said, “I’m reminded of a slick trick Geronimo pulled one time. I think the Apaches must have heard about Jesse James. The troops won’t be riding in the same cars with the horses and field guns, will they, sir?”

  “Of course not. We have the layout of the train. Four passenger coaches for the soldiers. Six freight cars for the animals and guns.”

  “Soldiers in the rear?”

  “No, up front near the engine. Why do you ask?”

  “Whoever’s in command is a dumb bastard. They don’t want to ride downwind of the horseshit, but it’s smarter to have the troops in the last cars. Smarter not to send trains through guerrilla country at night, too.”

  Carillo nodded and said, “Of course. If the soldiers were in the last cars, they’d be most likely to remain on the tracks even if the engine and first cars leave them. Bunched up near the engine like that, they make a lovely plum for our picking. I see what you mean! We shall block the tracks, machine-gun the troop cars, and—”

  “Uh, you’re in command, General. But that’s not how I’d do it.”

  There was a long, hard silence as everyone held their breath. Carillo scowled thoughtfully at Captain Gringo, then shrugged, “All right, just so you remember I’m in command, let’s hear it, Yanqui.”

  Americans who think Mexicans are lazy to take a siesta between noon and three in the afternoon have never lived in Mexico. By the time the meeting broke up, the sun was lashing down as if some mad god had opened a furnace door in the sky. Since it was desert country, it was a dry heat, and it felt like he was entering a cool, shady cave when he rejoined Rosalita in the ‘dobe.

  The girl had been at work making the place more presentable and was seated on the corner mat in her white pants when he came in. She smiled as he tossed his straw sombrero on a packing crate and unbuckled his gunbelt. She said, “Some of the women spoke to me when I went for water from the well. The olla is there by the door if you are thirsty.”

  “I’ve drunk enough pulque to float a battleship, thanks. Jesus, it’s hot out there.”

  “It always is at this time of day. Have you eaten?”

  “Yeah. Kept chewing tortillas to keep from getting drunk. How about you?”

  “One of the women was kind enough to give me some beans just now. I— I am afraid I told them a story.”

  “Oh? Anything I should know?”

  “You said I was to be your mujer, remember? Well, I told them you were muy toro and they teased me. They said you were big and asked if you were as big with your pants off. I am afraid I told them you were huge and they said they feared for my life with a three-hour siesta to spend with such a man.”

  He laughed and said, “Don’t worry. We both know it’s just an act to keep you from being molested.”

  “I know. What if somebody peeks in at us? Won’t they think it’s odd if we spend our siesta with all our clothes on?”

  “Nobody’s going to peek. It’s too hot out there to go creeping up to windows.”

  “I am worried, just the same;”

  She got up and unbuttoned her shirt, taking it off to expose her firm young breasts as he gasped, “Jesus, Rosalita! I’m only human!”

  “Do you think my body beautiful?” she asked, not waiting for an answer as she unfastened her string belt and peeled off the pants, one leg at a time. As she stood there, facing him, he was suddenly aware of the bulge in his own pants and said, “For a ravaged virgin, you certainly aren’t putting up much resistance!”

  “I have been thinking about that. It is a terrible thing to say, but on the trail all those nights, I couldn’t help wondering what it would have been like if you had been the one who ruined me.”

  “I’d hardly say you were ruined. But listen, kid, you still are a virgin, to put things delicately. I mean he only—”

  “I don’t want to talk about what that beast did to me. I don’t want you to do it like he did, either. I want you to do it right!”

  He opened his mouth to say something foolish about her age. Then he shook his head and unbuckled his belt, muttering, “Sometimes it’s best to just lay down and take your beating like a man.”

  She giggled and stretched out on the mat, and as he undressed she said, “Oh, I feel so funny. My heart is filled with butterflies and my legs feel so weak. Is it like this with you too, my toro?”

  He approached her half bent over, embarrassed at his fantastic erection, but she stared between his thighs in the half light and gasped. “Oh Mary, Mother of God! I had no idea it would be so big! You’re not going to put that thing inside me, are you?”

  “Hey, look, it wasn’t my idea to begin with.”

  He lay beside
her on the mat and cradled her head in one arm as, resting on the elbow, he began to pet her with his free hand. She flinched like a nervous colt as he slid his palm down her warm, brown belly. Then, as he reached her moist pubic hair, she suddenly sobbed, “I can’t! It’s wrong!”

  “For God’s sake, who said it was wrong?”

  “Father Pico. He said we would surely burn in hell forever if we did such things.”

  “You want me to stop?”

  “Yes, I think so. No, I’m not sure. I’m frightened. Would you hit me if I told you to stop? They say no man can stop, once he’s seen a woman’s flesh. They say you are all like animals.”

  He left his hand just brushing her tightly curled pubic hair and said, “Just be still a minute and we’ll think about it. I promise I’ll stop any time you say.”

  “Without hitting me?”

  “Do you really think I’d beat you?”

  “No. You are a very good person. But I’m still afraid.”

  He bent his head down to kiss her dusky cheek. Then, as she snuggled closer, he kissed her moist, trembling lips. Her lips were those of the inexperienced child. Then, as her instincts took command, they parted slightly and she responded, warmly. When he came up for air she murmured, “Oh, that was lovely. Can we do it again?”

  He kissed her a second time and risked the tip of his tongue inside her mouth this time. When she started sucking it he ran two fingers into the tightness between her trembling thighs and began to slowly massage her clit. She stiffened with a frightened hiss, but didn’t move her lips from his. As he felt her thighs slowly parting he slowly and gently rolled over, placing a knee between hers. He got both legs in position, still massaging and kissing her, before she suddenly tried to lock her knees together and tried to say something with his lips on hers. He eased his weight down until her perspiring nipples were against his chest and then, as he’d expected, she suddenly went limp and let her thighs fall open. He fumbled his own flesh into position and as her pink wetness closed around it, thrust home hard and pinned her with his weight to the mat. She twisted her mouth aside and cried, “Oh no! Take it out!”

  He neither moved nor obeyed as she gyrated her smaller pelvis as if to get away. He’d felt her hymen pop as he’d entered her and knew it would be disastrous to slip out before the first mild pain went away. As she rolled her head back, wide-eyed, he kissed her again and as the girl began to return the kiss, he felt her pubic bone rubbing against his, the right way. He let her grind it until he saw she wasn’t really fighting him anymore; then he began to move his own body.

  She clutched the edges of the mat and whimpered, rolling her head from side to side again with both eyes closed as, through clenched teeth, she gasped, “Oh Jesus! What is happening to me? You have to stop! I think I’m going to do something terrible!”

  He kissed her collarbone and murmured, “Just ride with it, querida. You’re only coming.”

  “Am I really? I feel like I’m about to wet myself, but I can’t wet myself because you’ve got that awful thing in me and, oh God, here it comes and … Jesus, Mary and Joseph! It’s wonderful!”

  He’d been timing himself, trying to remember where he was, but as she peaked he let himself go and groaned aloud in turn, “Oh yeah, you can say that again! I’m … Kee-rist!”

  He shuddered down from heaven and just lay there, letting it soak as he got his breath back. When he opened his eyes again Rosalita was smiling up at him adoringly. She giggled roguishly and murmured, “I see why everyone’s always made a fuss about it, now. I feel terribly wicked, but somehow cleansed! That must sound crazy.”

  “No, but I am going to have to show you how to take care of yourself. I deserve to be hung for taking a chance on knocking up a kid like you.”

  “Don’t move. I never want you to take it out. Do you know, it’s as if that other thing never happened? I mean, compared to the real feeling, it seems as if some nasty little brute merely kicked me harder than usual in the behind.”

  “It was a pleasure to adjust your thinking. Welcome to the real world, kitten.”

  “Oh I do feel real. You have made me a real woman at last. That cry baby you remember no longer exists! My God, do you mean to tell me it’s like this between all men and women? How do they ever get anything else done?”

  He smiled and started moving again. She responded, but said, “I want to try it the other way. The way that other one did it to me.”

  “Rosalita, people are not built to do it that way. You don’t have the, well, the same nerves in your, rectum.”

  “You mean it’s impossible to come that way?”

  “Most women find it uncomfortable at best.”

  “But some like it?”

  “A few. Maybe one out of ten. What’s the matter with what I’m doing?”

  “It’s lovely. I want to fuck like this forever, but … I’m curious.”

  “Listen, you know he hurt you that way.”

  “Yes, and you are built much larger. I don’t care if you hurt me back there. I want to know what it’s like with a man I love.”

  He let that go. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it. To keep from voicing the lie she expected, he kissed her again and withdrew from her vagina. He ran a moist finger around the tighter opening below it and waited until her first anal spasm passed before he inserted the finger. He got his erection in position and withdrew the finger slowly, replacing it with his slippery glans.

  She giggled and asked, “Can you really do it from the front like this? I didn’t know it could be done romantically!”

  “You’re sure, now? I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Do it. Do it all the way!”

  He tried to enter her anally and, of course, met resistance from her involuntary muscles. She asked, “What’s the matter? Am I doing something wrong?”

  “Just relax. There’s no hurry. You really want it in there?”

  “Yes, oh yes, yes, yes!”

  “Well, this isn’t very delicate, but try to fart.”

  “What a strange thing to ask!” She laughed, even as he felt her anal muscles opening. He moved in slowly, stopping each time she clamped down and gaining each time she giggled and tried to break wind. At last he was in her and started pumping, asking, “Do you like it this way?”

  She shook her head and said, “Not really. But I want you to do it all the way.” She suddenly laughed and added, “It feels more like shitting than fucking, but I don’t mind. Do you think I’m trying to shit?”

  He moved faster, faked an orgasm, and lay very still for a moment, saying, “Just relax and let me sort of, well, shit out of you. We don’t want an explosion on this mat.”

  When he’d withdrawn completely and rolled to a sitting position she said, “Pooh. That’s a silly way to fuck. Why do you suppose that fat little man was so anxious to do that to me?”

  “Because he was crazy, considering what’s up front. I’d better wash off before we do it again, the right way!”

  As he went to the pottery olla and ran some water over a rag, Rosalita said, “Well, I’m glad that’s settled. Now I see what all of you meant when you said I’d never been raped at all. Will you bring that damp rag back to bed with you? I want to clean myself before we try something I’ve been curious about.”

  “Oh, you mean there’s something else you’re curious about?”

  “Yes. The older woman called it sixty-nine and it sounded simply horrible when I first learned what they meant.”

  She laughed, a skylark laugh, and added, “I’ve suddenly discovered how marvelous it is to be horrible. I don’t want you to stop being wicked and horrible until we’ve done everything I’ve ever heard of men and women doing to one another.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The desert night was chill and Captain Gringo shivered in his thin cotton shirt as he waited with the others for the midnight train.

  To his surprise the old professor had insisted on coming along and was crouched at his side on th
e dark side of the railroad grade. They’d picked a spot where the northbound tracks rode across a wash on a long embankment with a sheet metal culvert in the middle. At the American’s suggestion, they’d divided into two forces. The general and Gaston were a couple of miles up the track, covering a railroad cut the train would have to pass through after crossing the wide, shallow wash. Captain Gringo was nominally in command of this smaller band of thirty-odd guerrillas. The professor, who’d apparently learned nothing from his capture in the States, had come along simply to be able to say he shared the same risk as the others.

  The old man’s voice was fretful as he insisted, for the tenth time, “I still think we should have brought the machine gun, Captain Gringo.”

  “And give away an ace in the hole, Professor? That Maxim’s only a surprise the first time you use it. Let the federales know we have a machine gun, and not a hell of a lot of ammo, and they’ll send a battleship up here after you! You just leave the tactics to me and worry about strategy. Though, come to think of it, I’ll be damned if I can see what your strategy is!”

  “It’s simple. We stop this train and delay the Army a few more days.”

  “That’s not strategy. That’s Field Tactics One. I can see how you can play tag with the Rurales out here indefinitely, but I’ll be damned if I see how you intend to win your revolution. How long does this hide-and-seek go on?”

  The old man’s voice was cheerful, considering, as he said, “Oh, at least another generation. With Washington’s backing, Diaz will no doubt last into the twentieth century. I don’t expect to see our people taking the capital before, oh, 1910 or so.”

  Captain Gringo swore softly and said, “That’s almost twenty years from now! I’ve heard of long wars, but this is ridiculous!”

  “I agree. But you must understand my people. They are worse than little burros about putting up with abuse. We have had such a ridiculous series of governments since 1821 and independence. Each time another man on a white horse elects himself El Presidente the people shout ‘Viva! and hope, this time, things will be better.”