The Savage Little Flea

by Steve Shadow

  “No Jack,” he said to me. “I no leave you alone. We are partners. I will make call to Rosa and say we will stay in Mexico longer. I no tell her more. I tell Ernesto what has happened, he is good man and will listen to me. He will no say nothing. We go now.”

  I could not change his mind. Fabiola said nothing. The truth was that I was glad to have him with us.

  We said our farewells to the three Mexicans and told them to thank Assesino for all he had done. We hugged and wished them well. Chuey helped them load Eliondo into the SUV and they left. The heat of the afternoon enveloped us. The weight of what had happened fell upon us like the humidity. I could barely stay upright. We washed the sweat and blood off of our bodies and put on fresh clothes. We met with Senor Santiago by the pool. I was suddenly so thirsty that I drank nearly a quart of water. He had the kitchen bring us food. The three of us ate like starved dogs.

  When we were sated we told Santiago we were going after Luis and needed a vehicle. He said he would call a friend who had a used car lot. Fabiola got on the phone with the man and they started haggling in Spanish.

  She hung up the phone. “He will bring us an old Volkswagon. I think is best for us. No one will pay any attention to an old little car. As soon as he comes we will go. Chico left us each a pistola and many bullets. Come, we must get our bags and be ready.

  I was glad to be busy and on the move. I did not want to sit and dwell upon the killings we had seen. Better to keep the nightmare moving than have it sit and fester.

  We went back to our rooms and packed the few things we had brought. Fabiola handed me a pistol and a box of bullets. I checked to make sure it was loaded. This time I had no objections to using it if I had to. I put it in the chest pocket of my travel vest. I stood and watched Fabiola’s economic movements. She silently and efficiently shoved her clothes into a carry-all. She was bent over the bed. Her broad shoulders and muscled back shone with sweat. I came up behind her and put my arms around her. I nuzzled her neck. I whispered in her ear.

  “You are my warrior, my wonder woman. I will not let you down.”

  She turned in my arms and looked me in the eye. “Si Jack, I believe you. But it does not matter. This is for me and I will do what I have to. I am happy you and Chuey are coming but I would go alone. Nothing will stop me. Luis will never take advantage of me again. I gave him my heart, my body and my soul. He will pay for his betrayal. I am sorry for the loss of your friends. But the truth is I do not really care. That Guera was stupid to come here with Luis and Danny was a fool. I think, maybe, they are better off where they are.”

  “Jesus Fabiola,” I said in dismay. “That is a little harsh.”

  “I don’t care Jack. It is the way I feel. Now get the bags, we must be ready.”

  She lifted her things and went out into the hot afternoon sun. She was wearing a tank top and camo fatigue pants. On her feet were modified combat boots. She had a bandanna around her head and a pistol on her hip. I stared after her. Who was this woman? I began to think that maybe I had seen someone as I wanted them to be and not as they were. I was now not so sure about my feelings for her. She seemed solely interested in vengeance and nothing else, especially me. The fury that rippled off her body in waves was disquieting to say the least. Romantics like me tend to think everyone will feel the same way they do but this woman was most assuredly no romantic.

  I picked up my bag and followed her into the deadening heat. Chuey was waiting for us in the lobby.

  “Jack, I talk to Rosa, she is understand what we do. Ernesto tell me all is bueno at teatro. He say is no good business but is OK. He say Bucky come everyday, so we no worry for now.”

  “Thanks Chuey. I think we have enough problems here. I still can’t believe Danny and Shelly are dead. This is really bad. Do you know if they have any family? Is there someone we should tell about what happened? I don’t know what to do.”

  “I no think so. I never know about any familia. I no think they have anything, maybe just what is back in your amigos hotel in Chicago.”

  “Well nothing we can do now. I’m not sure we should say anything to anyone about them. That could only lead to more shit dumped on our heads. Christ, what a mess.”

  Fabiola came up to us. One of Santiago’s office staff followed her pulling a cooler and a tote bag.

  “Senor Santiago has provided us with a cooler of water and some food. As soon as the auto arrives we will be off.”

  She looked like Patton ready to take on the Nazis. I still couldn’t believe that I had made love to this Amazon.

  We gave our thanks and said our farewells to Senor Santiago. He seemed glad to be rid of us. He scurried away as soon as he could.

  In less than five minutes a sallow middle-aged man pulled up in a rusty dark colored Volkswagon bug. He got out and Chuey and Fabiola went over and spoke with him. They inspected the car, inside and out. They told me he wanted a thousand dollars for it. I knew we were being ripped off for this piece of junk. I paid him from our rapidly dwindling stash. The car did not have a working odometer or an air conditioner. Fabiola said she would drive. Chuey climbed in beside her. I stuffed what gear I could in the front of the car and climbed into the back seat with the rest. Fabiola and Chuey told me that we would drive to the coast and then along the sea to Acapulco. They thought it best to stay off the main highways. The gears ground as we pulled away from the small hotel. The heat and the humidity were like a wool blanket. I did not realize how totally exhausted I was. I soon fell into a troubled, sweat-soaked slumber. When I awoke we were still moving. The dusk filled sky lay before us.

  28

  It was the middle of the night. We were far from any town. Fabiola pulled off the road. She parked behind what appeared to be an abandoned storage shed. We ate what little food we had and drank the water that Santiago had provided for us in a small cooler.

  We decided to try and sleep as best as we could in the car. We were afraid to use the ground for fear of snakes or tarantulas. I gave Fabiola the back seat, not that it provided much more room than the front seats. We had coated ourselves in bug spray. The rest of the night consisted of swatting spray-resistant bugs and dozing fitfully. We had little to say. I wondered what we would find in Acapulco. Fabiola just seemed to keep seething. I was afraid to ask about what she was thinking. As for Chuey, his usual smiling face was set in a grim mask.

  At the first hint of light we left our resting spot and got back on the road. We drank the last of our water. I hoped that we would come upon a village where we could purchase some food. We had foolishly left without any map. We followed the sun and hoped to get to Highway 200 which would take us to Acapulco. We were passing through a narrow road bordered by thick foliage. I smelled something burning. I look out the back window and saw smoke.

  “Hey, stop the car. The engine is smoking.”

  Just then the car began bucking and lurching. Fabiola slammed on the brakes. We bounced off the road. The little car lurched to a stop, sitting at an angle. We piled out of the car. I hauled the weapons and gear behind me. Chuey threw open the front trunk and grabbed the rest of our stuff. We stepped back as the car began to smoke even more heavily. Flames erupted from the rear engine compartment. We were on the other side of the small road. None of us knew much of anything about cars. We stood there drenched in sweat as we watched the car start to burn.

  “Let’s throw dirt on it. Maybe we can extinguish the flames.” I said.

  “No Jack,” said Chuey. “Maybe it go boom, we get hurt, is no good now.”

  “Shit, shit, shit,” yelled Fabiola. “What the hell are we going to do now?”

  “Fabiola, you’re from Acapulco. Are we near any town?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I am not sure where we are. All we can do is load up and start walking. We need to find water.”

  The flames had extinguished on the car. Only a small trail of smoke issued from the rear engine compartment. We saw that it was burned beyond any possibility of repair. I searched what w
as left of the vehicle to make sure that we had left nothing behind. I wiped off every surface that was not too hot to touch. Who knew what rap the Mexican authorities would try to lay on us if we got tied into the shoot-out at Palenque.

  Two of our bags were on wheels but the rest of the gear we had to carry. The three of us began a slow trek down the empty road. It was still early in the day but the heat was already intense. I was finding it hard to breathe. No cars or trucks came down the road. We had been walking for almost an hour when I heard a vehicle behind us.

  “Stop, someone’s coming,” I said.

  We dropped our gear and waited. Coming around a curve a huge gray automobile approached us and began to slow down. It stopped beside us. A window was silently lowered from the back seating area. A small head of silver hair peeked out at us.

  “I say, what have we here? Are you people lost?”

  The woman who spoke had an English accent. She was attractive in a well cared for manner. I guessed she was in her 50’s but with all the make-up and the tell-tale shiny skin of the surgically enhanced it was hard to tell. I stepped forward.

  “Good morning, kind lady. I am Jack Sennett from the US. Our car caught fire and we are trying to make our way to the next village or town. If you could help us it would be greatly appreciated.”

  She said something to the driver. His door opened and a heavy set man with a large moustache stepped out and came around to the side of the car I was on. He was dressed in chauffer livery. He opened the rear door and out stepped a short compact lady in a gauzy layered dress that swirled around her tiny figure. She extended her small hand.

  “Good morning to you unfortunate travelers. I am Dame Evalin Zuckerman of London. And may I ask what you are doing here in Mexico?”

  I took her hand in mine. I had to think fast. “Pleased to meet you madam. As I said I am Jack Sennett. I am an American wrestling promoter.”

  I motioned to my friends. “This is Miss Fabiola Alonso, an up and coming star of the squared circle, as we call it. And this is Chuey Morales. He is an ex-champion and my partner. We were on our way to Acapulco to negotiate contracts for a series of exhibitions across Mexico and points south.”

  She peeked out from under the straw hat she had placed on her head when she left the vehicle. She shook hands with all of us. She looked very closely at Chuey who was the same height as Lady Evalin. She turned to her driver.

  “This is Chinito. He is my driver and my savoir. I go nowhere without him. Well now that we have all met each other I do believe I can be of help. We had come to Vera Cruz to pick up my new Bentley and foolishly decided to drive back and see the scenery. Now I can have some company. Chinito is devoted but not much of a conversationalist. I have a villa adjacent to Las Brisas in Acapulco and you are all welcome.”

  She chuckled behind her hand. “Wrestling, how utterly quaint. Well, Chinito this trip may turn out to be more of an adventure than I had hoped for. What fun we will all have.”

  I looked at Fabiola and Chuey. They just shrugged. I stared at the magnificent auto. I don’t think I had ever seen a huge British car such as this before.

  We helped Chinito store our gear in the massive boot, as he called the trunk.

  “I want to thank you madam for your help. I will reimburse you for any expense.”

  She waved her hand at me. “Nonsense, young man. Also let us skip the formalities. You may all call me Evalin. We shall all be such boon companions on our little adventure. Come let us get in the car where it is refreshingly cool. This humidity plays havoc with my hair.”

  We climbed into the living room sized back area of the car. She grabbed Chuey’s hand and pulled him onto the rear seat with her. Fabiola and I sat on pull down seats facing the rear of the auto. Between us was a tiny refrigerator and a bar. The seats were covered in soft leather and the interior reeked of big money. She lowered a cushion from the middle of the back seat and removed a bottle of champagne. I took my cue and removed four flutes from the bar as Chuey, with a lot of trouble, popped the cork. He poured us all drinks.

  “To our new friendship,” exclaimed Evalin with a huge laugh.

  We downed the bubbly and what with the heat and hunger it went straight to my head. I started giggling. Fabiola punched me in the arm.

  “Remember what we are doing here, Jack”

  “Uh yeah, sure,” I said. “I remember but you got to admit this is pretty cool.”

  She pursed her full lips and stared out the side window.

  The car began to move forward. Evalin passed around a tray of cheese and crackers. I had no idea where it had come from. The Bentley floated along like a cloud. It was utterly silent. I wanted to sleep but knew that would be rude to our hostess.

  Lady Evalin kept eyeing Chuey like he was a piece of candy that she desperately wanted to eat. For his part Chuey just kept smiling and saying, “Gracias” every two minutes. Evalin had on some very strong perfume and the car smelled like a boudoir rather than an auto. The cinematic qualities of this past week did not escape me. A part of me could not help but stand back and watch in amazement as this plot, my life, slowly unreeled. Despite my horror at the deaths I had witnessed and the ongoing anxiety of what we would find in Acapulco I also felt a surge of almost reckless joy at the events that I had been part of. It seemed just like yesterday that I was living a small life of mundane problems. Now here I was racing across Mexico in a luxury car with British royalty or what I assumed was royalty towards who knew what. I had the same feeling I used to get as a kid in the darkened theaters that occupied my days. Watching the scenes unfurl, not knowing what was coming next. Just waiting for the upcoming surprise, the next thrilling adventure felt much like this. I found this was way better than watching Walter Mitty dream his daydreams. I turned to Fabiola and held my glass out to her.

  “Here’s looking at you, kid,” I smiled. Lady Evalin chuckled. Fabiola and Chuey looked me as if I was nuts. We rolled on through the sun-dappled jungle.

  29

  We finally reached the highway and the seashore. Chinito stopped the car in a small fishing village. It was named Puerto Angel. The sea air was a welcome change from the fetid jungle. We left the car and stood in the sand watching the fishermen bring in their haul of shrimp and other fish. Many were repairing netting and working on boats.

  “This is so quaint and refreshing, don’t you think?” Evalin said. “Chinito, do you think we can find somewhere to try some of this fresh bounty of the sea?”

  “Si Madam, I will enquire.”

  We removed to a shaded spot next to a shack. I purchased bottled water for everyone and we sat in the shade watching all the activity around us. The local people stopped and stared at the Bentley but made no comments. Chinito returned and pointed to an open sided tent further down the beach. It had some tables and chairs set up inside.

  “Oh what fun,” exclaimed Lady Evalin. She removed her tiny shoes and we started down the beach. Chinito followed her while holding a large umbrella to shield her from the sun. I had made sure that Chinito locked the car before we set off.

  The sand was warm under our feet but the breeze blowing across the point kept us cool. The tent we approached was an outdoor restaurant. Hanging on one side was a sign that read “Playa Azul”. A generator hummed and a large steel oven was set up at one end. The smell that arose from the cooking food was overwhelming. I began to salivate in anticipation. A large woman in an apron greeted us in Spanish.

  “Ola, bienvenidos. You are welcome to my cantina. I will be glad to serve you. Please be seated.”

  Beer was cooling in an iced washtub. Freshly caught shrimp had been cleaned and doused in oil, garlic and lime. French fries were being cooked in the outdoor oven. The mingled odors were wonderful. The table before us was soon festooned with little rolls they called bolillos. Next came sliced tomatoes and cucumbers. A platter of grilled shrimp in oil and spices came next along with a heaping plate of French fries.

  “Jesus, this looks great,” I sa
id. “I’m starving.”

  Chinito had joined us and we all dug into this feast. Lady Evalin was laughing out loud as she pointed to all our grease stained faces.

  “Ah this is wonderful,” she sighed. “It is so much fun to have all of you here to share this bountiful repast.”

  Our hostess Maria had tied an apron around Lady Evalins neck to protect her dress. She looked like a happy child at a birthday party. Even Fabiola smiled as she devoured mouthfuls of shrimp and French fries.

  I watched everyone enjoying the meal. The sun glittered on the water and the sound of the gentle surf surrounded us. It seemed we were the only turistas in town so we had the place to ourselves. It was almost as if the terrors of the past few days were gone or had never happened. I could almost imagine that we were all on a holiday. We ate everything that Maria put before us. When we had stuffed ourselves to the bursting point she came with dampened cloths for us to clean off our oil streaked mouths.

  “I forget the taste of camarones frescas. Is too good, I think.” said Chuey. He turned to Lady Evalin. “Muchas Gracias por todo, Senora.”

  “Oh it is nothing. It is my pleasure to have rescued your tiny band. This is wonderful. When we get to my villa you will be amazed at what Graciela, my cook, can create. Now that I have found you there is no escaping me.” She said this with a huge smile. She reached over and pinched Chuey’s cheek. “You are just the most adorable little fellow.”

  Chuey began to blush. I started laughing out loud and was joined by Fabiola. She said something to Chuey I did not catch but both Chuey and Chinito began to laugh. Chinito who had appeared so stoic and proper was now obviously chiding Chuey. I looked at Lady Evalin who was, in a very unlady-like way, downing the final drops of her third beer.