by Yamaya Cruz
“Naw Nico. You’ve been playing all of us. I never wanted to live my life like this. I didn’t want to kill anybody. I don’t want to be a fucking criminal. I am tired of being mad, angry and violent. I just want all this shit to end,” Ali said.
“Mijo, they only time you’re a man is when you have gun in your hands. That’s your power,” Nico said holding up a fist.
“Naw. I ain’t powerful. Something takes over me and I just black out. And I do shit that I don’t want to do,” he said with his voice cracking. His head was bowed and his eyes were pasted to the ground.
“Shit! The motherfucker going to start to cry,” Nico snuffed.
“Untie that little bitch,” Nico said. Fatboy looked at him confused.
“Hey Cabron? You deaf? Let her go!” he said slapping the back of Fatboy’s head. He wobbled over to me and unclasped my hands and ripped the duck tape from my mouth. Nico paused and looked at me.
“Yeah! That’s better, now you got another hole to work with. Take her skinny ass in the back,” Nico yelled.
“Ali, help me.” I screamed.
He just stood there, looking at his feet.
“You see Mija! Do you see the power I fucking have? Do you see what I can do when I turn a man against himself? He kills. He lies. He cheats. He steals. He betrays and he fucks over his own family. Why? Because of fear,” he said.
Ali closed his eyes and looked away.
“I control people’s minds; that’s real power. Not that heaven shit that Chobo was talking about. I have power that I can taste and feel. I can get people to give me money; I can get women to give me their bodies. Shit! I can even get people to give me their souls,” Nico sneered.
“All that development shit that Chobo was talking about. Well, that’s just too much work. brujeria is the way for me,” he said smugly.
“I’m already enlightened. I am a God,” he said smiling. “And my heaven is right here on earth.” He continued chuckling. He pulled a cigar out of his shirt pocket, stuffed it in his mouth and lit it.
“No Nico, you benefit while everybody else suffers,” I said. Nico smiled and just puffed on his cigar. Fatboy inched closer to me.
“Don’t come near me you fat piece of shit,” I screamed. Fatboy backed away. Nico dropped his cigar out of his hand and just stared at me.
“No! No! This shit can’t be possible,” Nico said.
There was a long silence. No one dared to speak. Suddenly, the room felt like it was being racked by violent tremors from seismic waves. People in the room began to run this way and that. Some found cover under tables, or crouched up under chairs. But nothing was going to stop them. They flew about like bats in a cave. They moved in droves, eating away at human flesh like termites. People’s eyes rolled in the back of their heads, shaking as if they were suffering from an epileptic fit. Salvia foamed out of their mouth like boiled milk.
“You’re right, Nico. We’re in heaven, my heaven. “But this is your Hell.” I said.
People rolled around on the floor in pain. Their horrific cries echoed through the air.
“I’m whole now. And no one is ever going to hurt me again, because I’m in control,” I said.
“Nobody has more power than me,” he spat.
“No Nico. I have more power than you,” I said causally.
He looked at me with disgust, then ripped a machete out of a dead person’s hands and started to wave it in the air to fend off the shadows.
“What’s wrong Nico? Are you scared? This is what happens when life becomes unbalanced, when there is too much darkness,” I said.
He swung hard and fell off his feet.
“This is your creation Nico. Look around you and see what your brujeria has done. It’s created poverty, disease, and oppression. It has blocked us from our egguns, and has stopped us from reconnecting with the Orishas, from the source, from our own power!” I screamed.
“No! No! I didn’t do this,” he said crawling on his knees. Make them stop please. I’ll do anything.”
He buried his head in his hands and wept like a baby.
“Please don’t let me die this way?” he said between sobs.
“You tried to break me down by taking everything from me. But I’m not going to give you that kind of power anymore,” I said. “Nothing can bring them back. They’re all dead,” he said. “And so are you,” I said.
“You have nothing, not a fucking soul,” he sneered. “You’re wrong, Nico. I have everything.”
He rushed toward me in a fit of rage. He swung the machete at me and missed. I snatched it out of his hand and ripped his head clean off with it. His legs buckled and his body hit the floor with a loud thud, with blood rushing out of its neck like a fountain. It was over. I stood in the center of the room, holding the bloody machete in my hands with my brigade of shadows standing behind me.
I released the machete from my hand; it hit the floor with a loud thud. I heard the sound of the African drums. It wasn’t fast and crazy like before. No, now it was a gentle, slow and steady rhythm. My feet inched off the floor. Some mysterious force was lifting me up. I looked to my right and caught sight of my mom smiling at me. Beyond her, Maria was floating and beaming with joy. Chobo’s large belly jiggled from laughter. Kingfoot and Isabella were holding hands. Pedro Juan and Elvisa were locked in a tight embrace. The Griot was staring at me, wide eyed. There were dark faces all around me too. And that’s when it happened, when the shadows began to dance. I watched with amazement as their features begin to develop like pictures from a Polaroid camera. Our hips swayed from side to side, our arms moved back and forth. We all rose up to the top, defeating the dark force of gravity. Some people laughed while others expressed tears of joy as we all ascended to the top, into the light.
“Nelly? Are you still with us?” A distant voice cried out. No. I was gone.
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