can a frustrated single mom and failed big city journalist save her family and salvage her career by returning to a town run by a gang of bungling thugs?


“The Resurrection of Puerto Cielo” is a novella published in serial form, 43 posts.




30


“No more corruption!”

Maria’s voice blared from the rooftop loudspeakers as the sunflower painted bus slowly rolled down the street. Filled with aroused corruption seekers, Ynes was back in action.

Manny honked and waved at cheering onlookers.

The Puerto Cielo Corruption Tour, highlighting the misdeeds of government officials, had just gone online. There was already a waiting list.

The windshield wipers struggled to keep up with the afternoon shower as Manny slowed Ynes in front of the Palm Estates entry gate.

The guard house sentry poked his head out to view the intruders.

Manny opened her window and waved.

The guard was immediately on the phone. There were some who objected to their transgressions being made public and the gate stayed closed.

Maria spoke into the microphone, “How’s the water supply in your neighborhood?”

“Four days and no water to my house,” someone called from the back.

Other murmurs, how could it be, with so much rain, that people couldn’t get water to their homes??

Maria continued, “You’ll be happy to know that the people in the Palm Estates have all the water they want, all the time, all the water they need to fill their pools and keep the golf course green. And you folks, who only get water two or three times a week, are paying for this, thanks to the Pump House scandal.”

Hoots and jeers shook Ynes.

Maria went on, “The big pink house on the left belongs to your city treasurer. How does a city employee afford such a palace? Perhaps because much of the construction labor was provided by city workers and materials were mislabelled as city maintenance costs.”

Catcalls were interrupted when the exit gate opened and a shiny BMW sped out. The woman driver scowled at her gawking audience.

Maria noted, “That’s the treasurer’s wife. How does she afford the brand new car? It’s listed as a city owned vehicle. What city work do you think she’s doing today?”

The question was answered with boos and whistles.

***

Driving back into town, Ynes stopped in front of a travel agency, its windows covered with advertising posters for exotic vacations.

“This business is owned by the mayor’s sister. Your city officials have been booking trips all over the world here for themselves and their families. These expensive junkets have been disguised as economic development conferences. And the mayor’s sister gets a big fee for every trip she books.”

Maria paused.

“How would you like to go on an all expenses paid vacation to Paris, France?”

There were gasps of disbelief, “Really, they do that?”

As Manny drove on through dreary drizzle, Maria’s voice echoed through the streets,

“No more corruption!”

The “Corruptor Bus” stopped in front of a three story house towering over the white stucco wall surrounding it. Two city trucks were parked in the driveway.

“This is the home of our esteemed mayor. Please notice the city trucks parked here. It seems everyone who works at the mayor’s place is on the city payroll. This includes the gardener, the cook, his chauffeur, even the cleaning lady.”

A torrent of cynical taunts burst out from the tourists.

“And let’s not forget Angela Morales, the mayor’s mistress,” chimed in Manny.

Howls of derision erupted.

Manny drove on.

“When was the last time the city filled potholes on your streets?” Maria asked as Ynes plopped into yet another of the ever present road hazards.

“The only time they show up in my neighborhood is the week before the election,” was the familiar cynical response.

Manny turned off Beach Drive onto Main Street at City Park, slowing past Mama G’s. People stood outside the restaurant looking towards City Hall.

The irate protestors had increased in number, spilling off the sidewalk into the street, waving signs and chanting,

“Throw them out! Stop the crooks!”

Manny parked Ynes behind Barbara, in front of the star office, across the street from the angry crowd. The bus emptied, its occupants shouting encouragement to the demonstrators.

Sipping beer on their bench, the Bernies watched the goings on. Things were getting interesting. Certainly crazier times than they’d seen in years.

The ghost stood nearby, watching her beloved Ynes unload, as the driver and her co-pilot high-fived each other for another successful tour.

Eyeing the action from his table at Mama G’s, Sheriff Eddie thought, good, people are finally going to do something about the town crooks. Then he reconsidered, but If these protests continue, I might have to get involved.

Freshly loaded, the brightly colored Puerto Cielo Corruptor Bus pulled out into Main Street traffic to start another tour.

From inside a dark, grey limo, Tibo watched the bus pass by.

“Stop the crooks!” boomed the loudspeakers.

Yes, Ricky thought, that was his daughter Maria’s voice.

“No more corruption!”

For a moment, he was conflicted, his daughter or his business?

He reached for his phone.

***