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The Butcher of Barrios © |
| Written by r.e.potter | |
| Friday, 01 August 2008 | |
A train moves past my window from it's over ground rails, shaking the small room that's been my hide-away for the past two years. It feels like a small Earthquake as it rolls on by. If only I could leave this dump, this place, but how? A few days ago I thought that maybe there was a way, but that hope has now past me by just like the noisy train that has come and gone as my room settles and quiets back down. I'm down on my luck and I've nowhere to turn.
So what do I do now?
The only thing I can. I throw a rope over the wood frame of my ceiling joust and tie the other end to the rusted radiator that's attached to the wall, and make a noose. I move under that noose and check to see if the loop is higher than six feet two inches off the floor, which is the height that I stand. It is, by about a foot and a half, should work just fine. I place a wooden chair under the rope and step up, and then place the noose around my neck and tighten it snuggly. Nothing left to do now but kick out the chair and leave this damn world. There's only one small problem with that...I don't wanna die.
Confused...well let me explain.
There's a man sitting in the corner of my humble abode, and he's sucking on a fat stogie. The smell of his cigar sickens me, but that's not my biggest problem right now. He also has a Glock G26 9mm pointed straight at me...you see, that's my problem. I was given two choices, this, or going with him to pay a visit to the man, the man I double crossed. The choice was a simple one, this one.
Who is this man you ask.
Well, this man is not a man at all, at least by human standards. I've heard others refer to him as the Butcher of Barrios, but that's being kind. He's a monster and I should know, because as of two days ago, I was his right hand man. The man I'm talking about is Santiago Gambrilas, a made man of the highest kind in the Mexican Mafia.
So why does he scare me?
Well rumor has it, he once took a man who couldn't pay back a measly debt of two thousand American dollars and had him strung up by his balls. He then took a blow torch and burned away most of his skin, but he wasn't finished with him quite yet. When the poor sod came back from unconsciousness, he had his Angelino's dip him slowly in a vat of Iodine. Lucky for the gringo his heart stopped, because what came next was unthinkable. And just to let you know...it was no rumor.
So why is he after me?
Well I had a plan; a dumb one, but a plan nonetheless. You see, once you're sworn into the Mexican Mafia there's no getting out. I should rephrase that. What I mean to say is there's no getting out alive. But like I said earlier...I had a plan. Let me explain. That life style didn't suit me anymore and I wanted a clean break, and being his makeshift accountant I decided I would start shaving money from off the top. The money of course is dirty money, and sometimes even blood money, but when it's your money...it's always clean. Little by little, day by day, and month by month I skimmed off the top, until I finally extorted enough of his money to make a run. The time came, but I needed to make a stop first before I left this hell hole of a town; to the one bedroom apartment where I was secretly hiding all the money. You remember the place; it's the one by the railway...the one I'm at now.
So now you know.
But that doesn't really help me; I'm still on a chair with a noose around my neck, and an assassin who's growing impatient. He's starting to tap his lighter on the table and has now begun to look at his watch, and I know why. If he isn't back at a certain time, Santiago's boys will begin looking for him. And if Santiago's looking for you, I can assure you, you don't wanna be found.
So what do I do?
Well I'm in luck. The one thing I've learn being around Santiago for ten years is that his Angelino's are brutal but they're not very smart. If he was, he would have taken the .44 Magnum I have strapped with my belt backside under my shirt. But I still have a small problem; how I'm I gonna cause him to look away for a second so I can lay a slug between his eye's? I'm just about to go for it and have a no win shootout when the doorknob turns...and in walks Carmelita, the girl I've been seeing, and the girl I'm leaving town with. He turns to look. I haven't a second to lose. I reach behind me, grab my Mag and lay that slug between his eyes. It's a perfect shot. I watch him fall back against the wall as the chair comes to rest with two of its legs hovering in the air, and a cigar still smoking in his mouth; it's a scene straight from the movies. But I don't have time to eat popcorn. I grab his gun, grab the money and grab the girl and head for the door. But before I leave, I walk back to the thug and take out his stinking cigar and extinguish it on his forehead. I look at my watch just as another train begins to roll by; I've wasted too much time...and that's a luxury I don't have.
So where am I going?
Only place I can. I drive on through the night to the border, and Carmelita is sound asleep next to me. She's beautiful. I look at her and wonder why she's even here with me. I don't deserve her. But here she is, and now I wonder if it's stupid or smart that she is. She wakes up as we cross into the States. I look at her as she slides over my way. She kisses my neck. But I can only look at myself in the rearview and wonder just how foolish this plan really was. Because I'm not dumb; I know Santiago will never stop looking for me. Not because of the money I stole from him, but something even more personal.
His wife...Carmelita.
to be continued... Copyright 2008 r.e.potter |
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