by James Cherry
Marty quickly locked the door and slammed it shut, then reached into one pocket and threw a handful of butterscotch into the crowd. The children laughed and shouted with glee and scrambled to the ground for the treats.
He had expected this response and threw another handful farther out to draw away and thin the crowd. The ruse paid off and he made his getaway quickly, while the children were busy crawling on the dusty ground for the candy.
He trotted up to a large house owned by the village alcade, or mayor. He knocked on the door, took a step back, and waited patiently. After a few moments, the mayor opened the door and his face lit up in astonishment.
"El gringo! Señor Marty cómo estas? Usted tiene hambre o sediento?" asked the mayor cheerfully. He waved Marty into his house and slapped him on the back as he passed by.
Marty held his breath until he was a sufficient distance from the man. The mayor proudly sported the unwashed look and Marty figured it was because the man was unwashed as evidenced by his unbearable body odor, greasy hair, and dirty nails.
Marty was rusty in Spanish but quickly caught on and answered, "No, I am not hungry or thirsty, thank you. I came to talk to you about something that has happened."
"Oh, you need to talk about el chupa cabra?" inquired the mayor politely.
The team had met the mayor on their second day of their expedition in order to gather information on the chupacabra. He had welcomed them with open arms and had talked freely about the chupacabra. He seemed just as open and hospitable today.
Marty replied, "Well, yes and no."
"What you mean, yes and no?"
"Well, I was wondering if anyone in your village has any tooth fossils, like that from a dinosaur? Could they be using them as arrow points?"
"Arrow points? What that mean?" asked the mayor with a look of puzzlement.
The mayor motioned for Marty to sit in a chair, and plopped his portly frame into a recliner. The mayor grinned, his broken and blackened teeth disgusted Marty, but he did his best to hide his revulsion. Not only was the man unwashed, he apparently didn’t own a toothbrush either.
Marty accepted the offer and settled down in the hard and uncomfortable wooden chair. He faced the mayor and politely smiled. The mayor was elderly, probably in his late sixties, and had a thick head of black hair, laced with silver.
Marty thought for a moment as he formed the proper words in his mind. "El punto de la flecha."
"Ah, Eduardo has some arrows," replied the Mayor.
"Where can I find Eduardo?" asked Marty and he leaned forward in anticipation.
"What you mean din…dina… dinosaur and fosseel?" the mayor asked, ignoring Marty's question.
"Um, el fósil y el dinosaurio," answered Marty.
"Ah, si, Eduardo find some los fósiles del dinosaurio somewhere near the rock area. How you say, cleef?"
"The cliffs? And Eduardo makes arrow points from these fossil teeth?"
"Si."
Marty asked again, "Where can I find Eduardo?"
"He is at la cárcel."
"In jail? That’s interesting. What did he do?"
"A little stealing, nothing much, señor."
Marty thought for a moment and said in his best Spanish, "Gracias señor, debo estar yendo ahora, tengo un buenos días." He stood and headed to the front door.
"You have a good day too, señor. You come back and see me sometime,” said the mayor, appearing a little disheartened that Marty was leaving so soon. Marty held his breath again as the portly man opened the front door to let him out.
Marty walked to the jail, which was at the other end of small town. It looked to be more of an old derelict house rather than a jailhouse. Makeshift bars adorned the windows and an old, weather-beaten sign with the words la policía, hung by one nail in a vertical position out front.
He walked through the front door and greeted the officer on duty. The man was young and lean and wore the uniform of the local police. He lounged behind a rickety desk with his feet propped up on an open drawer as he watched a small black and white TV. He chuckled at a snowy old re-run of the Three Stooges, which was translated into Spanish. The officer ignored Marty's greeting and didn't bother to look up from his entertainment.
Marty cleared his throat and spoke again a little louder, "Señor, I need to speak with a man you have in jail. His name is Eduardo."
"Yo no entiendo inglés," stated the officer flatly without looking up.
Marty placed an American twenty-dollar bill on the table in front of the man.
The cop replied, "Yes, señor, I think I am starting to understand you now." He grinned and snatched the twenty-dollar bill.
Marty took the hint and placed another twenty down on the table. The officer quickly pocketed the money and reached down into the desk drawer and pulled out a set of keys. Marty accepted the keys from the officer and watched in puzzlement as the cop turned his attention back to the television, seemingly unconcerned he had just passed the keys to the jail to a complete stranger.
He walked to the back of the jailhouse and entered the cell area, which consisted of only two jail cells. One was empty; the other contained a disheveled man wearing a dirty and tattered shirt and pants that were two sizes too big. The man was short and extremely skinny to the point of being impoverished. His unshaven face had probably never seen a razor and his thick, long, black hair also looked as if it had never been cut.
Marty asked, "Are you Eduardo?"
"Si, what do you want?" Eduardo said in surprisingly good English.
"I am looking for dinosaur teeth, I was told you had some?" asked Marty.
"Si, they are back at my house," replied Eduardo flatly.
"If I let you out, will you take me there?" Marty inquired.
Marty grinned in amusement as Eduardo instantly perked up, his eyes shining with renewed hope. The dirty man quickly stood and leaned into the bars.
"Si, si, open the door please?" Eduardo pleaded as he wrung his hands together in expectation.
Marty inserted the keys and unlocked the door with a resounding "click and the dirty man rushed into his arms and hugged him. The man’s stench was so overpowering that it seemed to scorch the nose hairs clean from Marty’s nose. He involuntarily gagged and quickly held his breath.
"Just how long have you been in here?" Marty asked as he attempted to talk between quick breaths. He pushed the fragrant man away and stepped back.
"About four years, señor."
"Just what did you steal? You rob a bank?" Marty asked.
"No señor, I stole a shirt off a clothesline."
Marty gasped in disbelief. Four years for stealing a shirt? He grabbed the man's arm and led him to the front of the jailhouse. As he guided Eduardo passed the officer, he tossed the keys onto the officer’s desk and pushed the prisoner out the front door.
Marty walked with the dirty man back to the vehicle. As they approached the SUV, Marty eyed the children, many of whom were still hanging around awaiting his return. He tossed a handful of candy into the distance in order to distract the mob and waited until the children rushed away to snatch up the treats. Once his distraction was accomplished, he helped Eduardo into the passenger seat and hopped into the driver's seat.
He cranked the engine and darted away before the children could return. Following Eduardo’s instructions, they soon arrived at his house.
As Marty stopped the vehicle, he was appalled at the negligent disarray of the house due to years of neglect. The weeds and brush had reclaimed what used to be his yard and he held little hope they would find the fossils he was looking for.
He exited his vehicle and moved around to the front of the house and awaited Eduardo to join him before he walked to the front door. As they entered the house, it was apparent that someone had looted almost everything from within.
He watched as Eduardo looked about for a moment in dismay.
“Señor, someone has taken everything,” Eduardo cried as covered his face with his hands.
>
“Do you remember where you kept the fossils?” asked Marty.
“No, I cannot remember,” replied Eduardo, as he peeked from between his fingers.
Marty sighed and pulled out his wallet, removing forty dollars.
“Here, it’s all the money I have,” Marty replied as he handed the cash to Eduardo, “Do you remember now?”
Eduardo accepted the cash and without a word zeroed in on a smashed piece of unidentifiable furniture. He pulled out a drawer, or what was remaining of one, and dumped the contents on the floor. Several fossilized teeth bounced across the dirt floor and skidded to a stop.
Marty picked up the pieces and examined them one by one. They were blackened from the fossilization process and most were unremarkable. All of the teeth were broken and unidentifiable except one. It was intact and very similar to the tooth Doctor Burch had pulled out of the cow.
"Did you make arrows with these teeth?" asked Marty.
"Si, I did. It seems that someone has stolen my arrows. I used them for hunting. This is all I have left. I am sorry, señor. Is there anything else that I can do for you?" Eduardo replied.
"Yes, why did you make arrows from fossil teeth?" Marty asked.
"They are in plenty supply at the cliffs. When I first found them I thought they looked good for arrowheads. They are pointy and sharp so I made arrows and used them," replied Eduardo.
"Thank you, Eduardo, you have been a big help. May I have these teeth?" Marty asked as he held them out in his palm.
"Si, you may have them. That is the least I can do for you for paying for my release. If there is anything more I can do for you, just come here and ask," Eduardo said as he held out his hand.
Marty reluctantly accepted Eduardo's outstretched hand and grimaced in disgust as the dirty man bowed and kissed his fingers.
Marty quickly pulled away and said, "Just stay out of trouble, no more stealing shirts. Good luck and goodbye." He quickly retreated from the hut and walked back to the truck.
He drove back to the village, puzzled at the whole situation. He had managed to locate a man who made arrows from fossil dinosaur teeth so it was possible that someone stole the arrows and used them on the cattle. It was possible that the person responsible was attempting to hurt the cattle barons business and drive him off the land. A talk with the local cattle manager should clear up the issue.
Marty soon pulled in to the driveway of the head manager's residence of the Martinez Cattle Company. As he stepped out of his vehicle a noise much like a stampede of cattle caught his attention. He whipped his head around to look down the road and spied two dozen children as they raced his way. He hurriedly emptied his pockets of the remaining candy, flung them to the ground, and ran for his life.
He hated children and despised beggars even more. Those kids who continually begged for a handout nauseated him to the point of hatred. He had brought the candy, not for sympathy or charity, but to use as bait to keep the children away from him.
He had learned the hard way the first day they arrived in the village. The kids had poked, prodded, and pulled on every inch of his clothing. Tiny hands had found their way into every crease and crevice of his clothing and had removed objects that had been nestled safely deep within his pockets. His wallet had turned up missing as well as some change and his keys.
This time was different, he came well prepared. As he stepped upon the front porch, he looked back in satisfaction at the children who scrambled and rolled upon the ground as they fought over the sweets. As he raised his fist to knock on the front door of the head manager's house, a terrifying notion suddenly hit him. He had forgotten to lock the SUV.
Marty turned back and looked at his vehicle. Unlocked and full of sensitive gear, he knew that if left unattended, it would be a prime target for the unruly kids. He glanced down at the children and noted with dismay that the candy was almost all picked up. He would have to run swiftly back to the truck in order to lock it.
He steeled himself and ran flat-out to his vehicle. He swallowed hard as he saw several of the children glance at his return. They smiled in glee and formed a human wall between him and the truck.
He expertly sidestepped one child and jumped over two others who rolled upon the ground in contention over a piece of butterscotch. He grabbed the door handle of his truck, swiftly opened it, and pressed the electric lock button. The doors locked with a satisfying click and he smiled in triumph. He quickly shut the door and turned around.
The children had formed a semi-circle around him and stared with pleading eyes. He blanched, there was no escape. He looked from one grimy child's face to another in panic.
As if some telepathic communication had taken place between the minds of the children, in unison they took one step towards him. Tiny hands snaked forward and groped.
Marty feigned as if he threw something on the ground but the children ignored his ruse. The tiny hands continued to grope and he slapped one hand away, only to have it replaced by three more. He twisted in evasion and pushed and shoved himself roughly through the crowd.
The children relentlessly snatched and tugged at his clothing, and he began to panic. He felt a tiny hand fumbling about in his front pants pocket and snatched it away. Another hand reached into his rear pocket and he leaped forward and squealed in surprise.
A strong masculine voice yelled loudly in Spanish and the children suddenly scattered, scrambling off as quick as they could. Marty breathed a sigh of relief and he looked in the direction from which the voice had come. He spied the familiar face of Juan Chavez.
He could recognize Juan anywhere. His hair was jet black and his face was clean-shaven. He was thin and muscular, the epitome of a wiry build. He sported a jovial smile on a thin face predominated by high cheekbones and a long hook-like nose.
Marty hurriedly rushed through the door and into the safety of Juan's home.
He turned to Juan and said, "Thank you. You saved my life out there."
Juan closed the door and laughed. "You are quite welcome," he replied.
Marty took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, forcing his nerves to settle.
"Just what did you say to those children to make them run like that?" Marty asked.
"I told them to be careful, that you were a sorcerer and would cast an evil eye upon them,” replied Juan with a wry grin upon his face. “They will give you no further trouble,” he added.
"They believed that crap?" asked Marty in disbelief.
"Yes, they are common village folk, they believe me."
Marty smiled and grabbed Juan's hand. He pumped it up and down in a hearty handshake and said, "Thank you so much. Gracias Juan, gracias."
"No problem. What can I do for you today?" asked Juan as he motioned to a chair.
Marty accepted the offer and sat down in a chair at a beautiful hand-carved oak table as Juan walked to the other end of the table and sat down. Marty took a deep breath and looked around the room. The house from the outside appeared to be a typical village house made of stucco and daub, but the inside was quite a surprise. He had not expected it to be decorated with modern décor and expensive furniture.
He collected his wits and quickly jumped into the details of the team's so-called encounter with the chupacabra and the evidence collected to date. When he finished with his recount of the events that had transpired, he sat back in the chair and awaited a response.
Juan clasped his hands in front of him on the table and furrowed his brow in puzzlement.
"So what is it you want from me?" Juan asked.
Marty thought for a moment and said, "I want to know if you are aware of anyone that may be upset with Javier Martinez and may want to ruin his business."
Juan frowned at the notion and answered, "No, Marty. No one in this village is mad at Javier. He is good to people here. My men are very loyal to him. He pays them good. He repairs the village and feeds the people."
"Has Doctor Burch asked you or any of your men about some fossil teeth?”
<
br /> "No Marty."
"Has Doctor Burch been to your village recently?"
"No, Sorry."
Marty looked at the floor dejectedly. His theory of a pissed off villager seemed a dead end. He searched his mind for other possibilities on how a dinosaur tooth could have ended up lodged in a cow's neck. Only one possibility remained.
The doctor had planted it himself.
Chapter 8
The return flight from Mexico first landed in Texas where Ron had parted ways with the rest of the team. The team then made a connecting flight to Milwaukee, Wisconsin, which would have been an uneventful trip except for a slight ruckus caused when Marty slapped a flight attendant on the rear.
Being his usual self, after the plane landed in Milwaukee, Marty had disembarked the plane and disappeared without a word or goodbye to the others. He had rushed through baggage claim, snatched his bags, and flagged down a taxi.
As the taxi travelled down the busy roadway, Marty contemplated why the doctor would have faked the evidence. He knew that four years earlier the doctor had quit his job at the University after his alleged sighting of a Bigfoot. After the encounter the doctor earned money with his countless books and speaking tours on the subject of cryptozoology. And the money the doctor raked in was far more than he could ever have hoped to have earned as a professor. So as long as the doctor continued to find evidence of mythical creatures he would continue to get paid big bucks for his speaking tours.
Simply put, Marty concluded, the doctor was in it for the money.
***
Ayako and the doctor left the airport together and caught a taxi. Their goal was to head to the University of Wisconsin to sort through the latest evidence that they had collected.
The trip to the University took longer than they expected, and it was well after dark before they arrived. The doctor had a sneaking suspicion that the taxi driver had taken the long way in order to collect a higher fare.
