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.
34
The day dawned clear and calm. After weeks of rain, the waters of the lake gently lapped over the top of the soaked earth dam. There were no signs of life.
The squirrel was gone, driven by instinct to find a new home.
***
The young engineer punched the obnoxious alarm. In the ensuing silence, Antonio considered his options.
He could, he should, get out of bed and make the long tedious drive to inspect the dam.
Or…
He reached over and softly stroked Carmelita’s warm body, asleep beside him.
The decision was obvious.
***
People were still talking, still laughing, still amazed at yesterday’s Main Street showdown.
Oblivious to the honks and cheers from passing cars, two of the heroes lay motionless in front of the bench bound Bernies. Lazy and Arnold were dead to the world with hangovers.
Meanwhile, the Zorros were pedaling through Puerto Cielo handing out flyers for the afternoon’s “Carmen for Mayor” rally.
Juan Jimenez was also handing out flyers.
Reward
One dozen lost pigs
Payment in bacon
Call Juan Jimenez
Someone had stolen Juan’s pigs, the dozen fat hogs he’d been feeding for a year, and Juan wanted them back.
“What you going to do about my pigs, Sheriff?” Juan demanded as Eddie came down the City Hall steps.
Distracted by two men he’d just seen enter a Main Street shop, the sheriff stopped to answer, “Don’t worry, Juan, we’ll find them. Tough to hide hogs that size around here.”
With that, Eddie patted Juan on the shoulder and strode across the street.
Not the least comforted, the distraught farmer continued pleading with passersby.
The sheriff walked past the familiar black SUV into Felipe’s phone store. He heard threatening voices. Unnoticed, he approached the two men at the counter harassing Felipe.
Eddie’s voice boomed behind them, “Hello boys, I don’t think you got the message.”
Ivan and Gomez turned to find Eddie’s bulldozer bulk confronting them. The big man of the law was smiling. He added,“Puerto Cielo is tired of you.”
Ivan’s response was cut short as Eddie grabbed both men by an ear, banged their heads together, and dragged them whimpering out the door where he slammed their faces into the side of the SUV.
Calmly wiping his hands together, Eddie announced, “There, I think you’ve got the message. Now, stop troubling my town.”
Arms folded on his barrel chest, the sheriff stood watching the stunned goons scramble into their car and speed away.
He heard the clank of bottle. A few doors down, the Bernies had seen it all. Three beers were raised in salute.
Eddie tipped his tattered hat and smiled. He hadn’t felt this good in years.
***
In City Park, mothers watched their children splash in the fountain. Birds skimmed through plants and trees under a luminous cloud free sky. Workers scurried about making final preparations for the rally. Chairs were being set up in front of the gazebo now festooned with yellow, red, and green bunting. Someone was testing the sound system.
By mid afternoon, vehicles and people were converging on the park from all directions. Everywhere there were shouts,
“Viva Puerto Cielo!”
Surrounded by an ever building crowd, dozens of kids danced to the music of the band, playing under the shelter of the gazebo’s octagonal roof.
The energy was electric. People were alive with hope.
***
Inside Mama G’s, Espy and Carmen looked out at the spectacle.
“Can you believe this is happening in sleepy little Puerto Cielo?” Carmen marveled.
Equally amazed, Espy said, “Can you believe that the two most rebellious teenage girls in town are now stepping onto the stage to lead it?”
They hugged.
Then Espy declared, “Time for the show.”
Cheers erupted as the pair crossed Main Street to City Park.Throwing themselves into a barrage of well wishes, pats, and handshakes, they finally climbed the gazebo steps.
Nobody noticed the line of dark clouds flying in from the distant western horizon.
The music stopped. Arm in arm with Carmen, Espy stepped to the microphone. She looked out. The ladies in black sat in the front row. Beside them, the Diaz family, with Maria in her wheelchair alongside, waved. Hundreds of expectant faces looked up at her.
Suddenly, the weight of the moment hit Espy and she was speechless.
The ghost behind her smiled and Espy felt a surge of strength. Taking a deep breath, she began, “My friends, people of Puerto Cielo, this is our town!”
The crowd roared,
“Viva Puerto Cielo!”
Espy smiled, “This is our town and we’re going to take it back!”
She raised Carmen’s hand high in the air, “And Carmen is going to lead us!”
The crowd went wild!
“Carmen!”
“Carmen!”
“Carmen!”
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a blast of wind smashed into the rally. Hats flew into the air, trees gyrated wildly, signs sailed away, and gazebo bunting began to shred into colorful streamers.
Before Espy could say another word, the sound system died.
The sky turned black. The gale lashed out, flailed the palms. People gasped, children screamed. And then the onslaught of torrential rain hammered down.
In seconds, what had been a crowd of cheering civility became a chaotic mob, people pushing, yelling, fleeing for shelter.
Earlier, no one had seen the large van creep to the back of the park. No one saw the two men open the rear doors.
But everyone soon knew that a dozen, crazed, 200 pound pigs had been turned loose.
The hysterical hogs crashed through a melee of shrieks and curses.
From the gazebo, Espy and Carmen gaped in horror at the havoc as panicked people fled the storm battered, pig ravaged rally.
It was a catastrophe. The demonstration to take back Puerto Cielo was a shattered, drowned ruin.
***
Looking down at the carnage in the park from a public market balcony window, a solitary figure breathed a sigh of relief as Manny wheeled Maria to safety. Ricky had never meant to put his daughter in harm’s way.
But the pig release had been his idea. The calamity brought on by the unexpected storm had only intensified the devastating destruction.
Things had turned out much better than expected.
He’d watched the hope in people’s faces, even his own daughter’s, being swept away by fear.
But business was business.
***
Tag Archives: family
The Resurrection of Puerto Cielo – 33 of 41
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.
33
It was inevitable that they would collide. The “Corruptor Bus,” the force for good, and “El Hombre,” the force for fear and dread.
But, for days, the inevitable did not happen.
Finally, on a dreary, drizzly afternoon, fate brought them together.
In front of the Star office, the last “corruptor tour” of the day was unloading. Sitting inside Ynes, Manny and Maria were buzzing with the news that the tour’s online site had gone viral. There was a long waiting list and hundreds of comments. People were demanding change.
They were so busy talking as Manny pulled the bus out onto Main Street, they didn’t see the obstacle in front of them.
Both gasped at the same time.
“What!?”
Planted in the center of the street, a monster black truck blocked their way.
For a moment, nothing happened. The girls stared. They’d heard the rumors. They knew who this was.
The truck door opened. A mountain of a man emerged, stretched his neck, and stood in front of the truck, impervious to the rain dripping down his bald head.
The taunt muscled dog at his side snarled.
Goliath uncoiled his whip and glared at the astonished girls.
Then Maria’s defiant voice roared from the bus’s rooftop loudspeakers,
“No more corruption!”
CRACK!
The whip end ripped the loudspeakers from the bus roof and they clattered to the ground.
The giant recoiled the whip and shook the broken speakers into the street.
Shocked, Manny and Maria looked at each other.
Simultaneously, they stuck their heads out windows and yelled,
“Take back our town!”
CRACK!
The whip yanked the radio antenna from the side of the bus.
Again, El Hombre recoiled the whip, discarding the antenna.
Manny’s face grew intense. She stepped on the gas and the bus engine screamed.
CRACK!
The window in front of Maria shattered into hundreds of fragments. She screamed.
Engine racing, Manny shifted the bus into gear.
The whip snaked back behind El Hombre to strike again. His arm snapped forward, but froze above his head, the line suddenly taunt.
Surprised, El Hombre turned.
A mutt had grabbed onto the ball at the end of the whip and, all four legs dug in, Lazy wasn’t letting go.
Mikey charged.
An agonized howl pierced the air.
A little dog with a cast on one leg had sunk its teeth into Mikey’s testicles.
And Arnold wasn’t letting go.
The pained cries swelled.
Stunned, El Hombre dropped the whip.
Deciding the damage was done, Arnold released his death grip and limped to the Star doorway where Gabe, watching the spectacle with his family, scooped up the little David.
Lazy also chose this moment to retreat, scampering to the safety of his Bernie buddies.
A single high pitched word rang out above the wounded dog’s gut wrenching whines.
“Mikey!”
It was a strange sound. Not masculine, not feminine, the sound of a small, stricken child.
El Hombre knelt. He reached out and gently cuddled his fallen friend.
The town watched the giant, tears streaming down his face, slowly rise and carry his best, his only, amigo to the truck.
The door quietly shut. The engine rumbled to life. The truck slowly backed, turned, and headed out of Puerto Cielo.
The man had only said one word during his entire stay.
Suddenly the stillness was broken. Pouring out of shops and homes, people clapped and cheered..
In front of Mama G’s, the gathered ladies in black were gawking in amazement and muttering to themselves.
Mouth open, gina simply said, “Wow!”
Beside her, Eddie thought, those girls have guts, and wondered about his own cowardice.
Manny honked the Corruptor bus horn as Ynes idled up Main Street. She watched Maria brush bits of safety glass from her lap. they grinned at each other as kids ran up to shake hands.
On the 3 B’s porch, Arnold and Lazy were guzzling beer courtesy of the admiring Bernie brothers.
For the first time in days, the sun broke through the grey blanket that had covered the town. Puerto Cielo heaved a collective sigh of relief.
But as the black truck drove past the dark grey limo, one man had mixed emotion.
Ricky was proud of his daughter for standing up to the bully.
But Tibo’s business was in peril.
***
The Resurrection of Puerto Cielo – 32 of 41
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.
32
“Sheriff,” the radio crackled, “you there?”
Eddie picked up the mike, “I’m here, Gloria.”
“I’m getting calls about some big, bad ass guy nailing dead chickens up on buildings.”
Eddie sighed. The sinking feeling from seeing that black truck was coming to pass.
“Okay, I’ll check it out.”
The patrol car turned and headed downtown.
***
The alarmed calls were flooding in. A towering titan with a bullwhip and snarling dog was terrorizing Puerto Cielo.
Stalking the streets, he was ripping down “Carmen for Mayor” posters, crunching them up, and tossing them away.
Then, the ogre went a step further, nailing the carcasses of bloody, headless chickens over the posters.
His intimidating hulk would appear in a shop doorway, scan the store, grunt and stomp off, never uttering a single word.
He was a man on a mission and his mission was fear.
***
Motorbike jolting through Main Street’s potholes, Patrolman Castillo saw a vehicle parked in the “Tow Away” zone in front of City Hall.
Dismounting his bike, Castillo noticed that the protestors were gone. Good riddance, he thought, pulling out his ticket book. He wrote out the citation and reached up to put it under the windshield wiper. Then he realized that the window was beyond his reach, forcing him to clamber up onto the door step.
He heard a grunt behind him.
Turning, Castillo found a giant with a viper mustache glaring at him. The policeman lowered himself to the ground and, helmet visor up, stretched out a hand with the parking ticket. The menacing man, wearing a sleeveless black leather vest that exposed tattooed arms the size of power poles, made no move to take the timid offering.
The pint size policeman had not noticed the nearby dog and was not aware of its troubled past. Mikey, as the animal was fondly called in private moments, had been part of a litter born in a junkyard and left to roam the streets. Caught by a brutal dog catcher, he’d been beaten mercilessly. The emotionally savaged pup had been rescued by a shy giant who’d taken him home and nursed the dog back to health.
Now, two things shaped Mikey’s behavior.
Devotion to his master and a raging hatred of men in uniform.
Which is why, seeing Castillo’s neatly starched and pressed policeman’s outfit, Mikey launched himself at the cop.
The canine missile blasted Castillo off his feet and locked its teeth into a leather boot.
There was a sharp whistle.
The attack dog released its prey. Snarling, teeth bared, Mikey glowered at the fallen cop.
Lying on his back, Castillo rolled to one side and struggled to his feet. His eyes dropped to the dark stain on his trousers.
He’d wet himself
A trembling hand released the citation and it floated off in the wind.
Although the Bernie brothers had no comment on this spectacle, Lazy, always eager to make new friends, sauntered over to meet the new guy in town.
Having learned from his master that it’s best to make clear who’s the top dog, Mikey, wild eyed, with a mouthful of gleaming white teeth, lunged at Lazy.
Freaked by this unexpected response to his neighborly gesture, Lazy flipped into survival mode, did a midair 180 and dove for the safety of the Three B’s porch.
Cowering under the brothers’ bench, Lazy peeked between legs and boots to ensure he was not being pursued.
In the middle of the street, Mikey, who’d used this scare tactic before, barked savagely, knowing that this demented behavior preserved his king of the hill status.
Objecting to the mistreatment of the town’s favorite pet, Paco raised his bottle and voice in protest.
CRACK!
A sonic boom rattled the air and the top of Paco’s beer bottle disappeared.
Across Main Street, the ogre with the monster truck and junkyard dog slowly coiled his bullwhip, flicking off the broken glass from the ball of horsehair at its end. The pair boarded the truck as Castillo regained his feet and stared down at his soiled uniform.
Parked up the street, Eddie watched the big rig disappear.
“Sheriff, you there?”
Eddie did not answer Gloria’s call.
Already, hushed voices were spreading terrifying tales of “El Hombre” throughout Puerto Cielo.
***
The Resurrection of Puerto Cielo – 31 of 41
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.
31
The sun had risen an hour before, but it still felt like night. The cloud shrouded sky was ominously dark. Blasts of wind across the white capped lake hurled sheets of spray over the rain drenched dam.
Peeking from its hole, the squirrels face was dashed with raindrops. Annoyed, the squirrel shook its head and quickly retreated.
In the valley below, scarcely visible through the morning downpour, a lone truck headed down the road to Puerto Cielo.
***
It was cold and wet on Main Street. The extreme weather caused the Bernies to change their morning drink from beer to hot coffee. They’d even put on warm jackets. No one was out and about as their cups steamed and rain lashed down the vacant thoroughfare.
Three caps swiveled uphill towards the low, rumble bouncing off the sides of buildings.
Huge off road tires shooting water in all directions, windshield wipers swiping furiously, a black, monster truck rolled into view.
Coming closer, the truck slowed, then stopped, engine growling. The brothers noticed a gleaming ornament on the hood.
A frightening, life size full-fanged chrome rattlesnake head.
Through the open driver’s window, a giant scowling face glared at the trio. Two menacing eyes studied them, the meaty arm on the sill, unbothered by rain pounding its threatening tattoos.
With a twitch of his horseshoe mustache, the immense bald head turned and the truck slowly splashed on.
Standing outside the Star entry, Espy and Manny gaped at the behemoth vehicle which halted in front of them. The sinister face in the open truck window sneered.
Suddenly, frenzied barking exploded from the truck. Foaming at the mouth, the doberman in the back seat, suddenly seeing Arnold, had its face plastered against the window. The junkyard dog wanted chihuahua for lunch.
Panic stricken, Arnold sprang, cast and all, into Manny’s arms.
There was a sharp whistle. The barking stopped.
“Who’s that guy?” asked Manny, as a quivering Arnold watched the truck inch past the parked bodies of Barbara and Ynes.
Espy had no answer.
Standing beside his patrol car Outside Mama G’s, Sheriff Eddie was saying goodbye to Gina. They turned to see a big truck approaching and two evil eyes staring at them.
A cold, wet gust splattered their faces. Gina crossed herself. Eddie felt a sudden flush of anxiety as the black rig turned onto Beach drive, heading through the sullen downpour towards the red rooster.
Bad news had just come calling to Puerto Cielo.
***
The Resurrection of Puerto Cielo 30 of 41
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.
***
The Resurrection of Puerto Cielo 29 of 41
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.
29
Sam had insisted that Manny drive as the family piled into Barbara and rode to M&M Motors.
Now, standing inside the garage, they watch Mitch slide a grey tarpaulin off a hidden vehicle.
“Wow!” gasped Manny.
“Super wow!” Gabe shouted.
Unveiled in front of them, gleaming in the garages bright lights, was a sky blue microbus wrapped with dozens of bright gold, dancing sunflowers.
Manny’s mind flashed, the same sunflowers that waved from the wall inside the Star office.
She looked over at Sam, tears streamed down his face.
Lucy and Espy knew the story. this was Sophia’s bus. Ynes, the bus that once drew Sam to her, the bus in which Sophie and Sam and then young Esperanza had shared so many road adventures.
Espy remembered the wild and wonderful places they’d explored. And then she’d grown up, and other things became more important and family adventuring with Ynes faded away.
Manny saw the name painted on the side.
“Ynes. What does it mean?”
Sam shared Sophia’s fascination with Ynes Mexia and her love of plants.
With his white cane, he navigated around the front of the vehicle and opened the driver’s door.
“Come here, Manny.”
Manny followed.
“Jump in.”
Manny climbed into the driver’s seat. Sam closed the door. Then he moved to the passenger side and hoisted himself in.
He spoke to Manny, “I know you can drive, you did quite well with Barbara. But have you ever driven a stick shift?”
“No,” was the anxious answer.
He smiled, “Time to learn.”
She put both hands on the steering wheel and hesitated. Something was strange. What was it?
Her nose answered.
Sophia’s perfume.
Her grandmother’s scent filled the car. After all the time Sophia had been gone, the comforting memory of her perfume still lingered in Manny’s memory.
She relaxed. Gran’s here.
There were a few quick instructions, then Sam said, “Turn the key.”
Ynes came to life, engine purring like a contented cat.
Mitch rolled up the garage door and waved them outside.
“Let’s go for a ride,” said the blind driving instructor, and he showed Manny how to put the bus in reverse.
***
“I heard a clever idea for protesting against corruption,” Sam said, as gears ground and Ynes jerked and sputtered through the streets of Puerto Cielo.
“Take a deep breath,” he soothed, sensing Manny was getting frustrated, “there’s no hurry, slow and easy does it.”
He continued, “Some kids in the city created a new way to put the crooks on the public stage. They started the ‘Corruption Tour,’ a bus ride taking people to the most infamous sites of criminal profiteering throughout the town.”
Manny’s eyes lit up and she turned to Sam. Then she saw it, she saw how she could fight the thugs in Puerto Cielo.
“Yes!” she shouted, banging on Ynes’s horn as passersby on the sidewalk looked out at a bright blue bus covered with sunflowers lurching down the street.
By the time Manny parked the bus behind Barbara at the Star office, the stick shifting was so natural she’d forgotten about it. She had bigger things on her mind.
***
Gathered around the courtyard table, the family eagerly shared ideas about the soon to be launched Puerto Cielo “Corruption Tour.”
The bell on the Star office door jingled.
Heads turned.
A familiar face appeared in the doorway to the courtyard. they all looked at the girl in the wheelchair.
She simply said, “I want to help.”
***
The Resurrection of Puerto Cielo 28 of 41
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.
28
“City Corruption Scandal”
From the angry shouts coming through the closed door to the mayor’s office, the sheriff knew somebody was upset. He also knew the rage being vented had something to do with today’s Star headline.
Not my problem, Eddie thought. He didn’t want their crooked money, he just wanted to do his job, his way.
The yelling carried on as Eddie walked away.
***
Ricky sat alone in his corner in the Red Rooster, thinking as he slowly savored the rich cup of espresso. The machine behind the bar was installed solely for his use and made life in small town Puerto Cielo a bit more bearable. The Star headline glared up from the tabletop.
He thought about Roddy and the other clowns in the city government, a bunch of greedy, inept fools. They’d suffer now.
But I can’t let things get out of hand, I’m paying those bozos to leave my rackets alone and things would be much tougher without that protection.
He took a cigar from the inside pocket of his blazer, lit it, and slowly inhaled. After a pause, he blew a cloud of smoke towards the ceiling, then looked again at the Star headline.
“City Corruption Scandal”
Yes, he thought, Esperanza Diaz had become a formidable opponent.
***
Sitting on the open veranda at Mama G’s, Espy and Carmen were plotting how to get Carmen elected as the next mayor of Puerto Cielo. Inside the restaurant, gathered around their table, the ladies of the circle chattered excitedly about the shocking Star headline.
The lights went out.
Mama G emerged from the kitchen wiping her hands and looked around, then summed things up, “No electricity, we can’t, cook.”
Espy called Lucy. The power was also out at the Star office.
More calls were made and it was soon clear that the entire block, from the 3 B’s store down to Mama G’s was blacked out.
Standing beside carmen and Espy, Mama G wondered, “No storm, what happened to the power?”
“I think we know what happened.”
In the dim light, the trio turned to see Dona Consuelo.
She continued, “Estaban Salazar, a city worker, was told by his boss, the city engineer, to turn off the electricity to this part of town. His wife, who is the daughter of a lady in our circle, says he did this under threat of being fired.”
“So the big boys are pissed off with being exposed,” Espy smirked.
Dona Consuelo replied, “And now, they have, as you say, ‘pissed off’ all of us. They will pay for their insolence.”
The small white haired head turned and rejoined the Circle. Every lady at the table was texting or talking on her phone.
It took about two hours, but the lights finally clicked on again.
Later, the city engineer, returning to his palatial home for lunch, found a note pinned to the door.
“You are not welcome here. Go stay with your brother”
The man’s wife had received a call. She’d been told that her social standing in Puerto Cielo was at risk unless she disciplined her foolish husband.
She had taken immediate action.
***
School was okay today, Manny thought as she walked home. She hadn’t made any new friends, but kids weren’t avoiding her like they did the girl in the wheelchair.
As rain pummeled the pavement, Manny stayed under the shelter of Main Street’s arcades. Then she remembered her phone account needed more money. She stepped into a phone store. Somebody was arguing. Peeking around a display, she saw two guys dressed in black confronting a young man behind the counter.
“You really need to pay up, Felipe, or things are going to get tough for you,” said the tall thin guy.
“Yeah, you might have an accident,” chimed in the shorter, fat guy who took a new phone off the counter and dropped it on the floor.
“Oops!” said fats in mock surprise. Then he squashed the fallen phone with a heavy boot, adding, “My bad.”
Felipe watched with frightened eyes.
“You’d better find a way to pay, amigo, or there’s going to be a much bigger ‘accident,’ “ thin man threatened.
Felipe threw up his hands, “I can’t give you what I don’t have. Business is slow.”
“We’ll be back,” said thin man and turned to leave.
Thin guy scowled at Manny as he passed. The fat guy with the pig’s face and beady black eyes, gave her a look that made her shiver. She watched them enter a black SUV, then realized they were the thugs who’d tossed the brick through the Star window. She started after them, but tires squealed on the rain soaked street and they were gone.
Manny walked up to the counter. “What was that about?” she asked.
Felipe pulled out a wrinkled bandana and wiped sweat from his face. He shook his head, “You don’t want to know. Just another day in Puerto Cielo.”
Pocketing the bandana, Felipe smiled, “How can I help you?”
***
Troubled, Manny left the store. She hated the goons who had hurled the brick threw the Star window, who were terrorizing the town.
But what could she do about it?
Hood up, backpack gripped tightly over a shoulder, she plunged into a river of rain at the corner and splashed across the street and up the high curb to the shelter of the 3 B’s Store porch. The brothers, always there, nodded to her. Arnold and his buddy Lazy were nowhere in sight. Trust them to have found a warm, dry place for a siesta, Manny thought.
Then she saw them.
Protestors, a crowd of them, holding umbrellas and placards on the steps of City Hall.
“Throw them out!”
“Jail the crooks!”
“We want our $ back!”
Wow! People must be really mad to be out in such miserable weather. Manny brightened. My family and the Puerto Cielo Star sparked this protest.
She entered the Star office, still wondering, what more can I do?
Espy was at her desk on a phone call. Mother and daughter waved to each other.
Manny passed through the courtyard, raindrops plipping and plopping off the leaves of the maze of plants. She stopped at the altar sheltered under the balcony, and saw her grandmother’s face smiling back at her.
There was a noise from under the altar table and Manny bent down. Snuggled together in a well padded basket, Arnold and Lazy were sound asleep. The loud snoring she’d heard had come from the very small dog. The cast on his leg was quite the worse for wear, but had no effect on his contented dreams.
That solves the mystery of the disappearing dogs, now what were those delicious aromas coming from the kitchen?
Lucy looked up from the cutting board as Manny entered. “How was school today?”
“All right,” Manny replied, her nose twitching with scents of cilantro, garlic, and peppers.
“Good. Here, you can help me.”
Lucy was making chile rellenos and she put Manny to work shredding cheese.
“Smells great, what can I do?” Espy inquired as she came in.
“You can add onions to the beans and start the rice,” answered Lucy.
As the three generations of Diaz women worked together in the kitchen, Manny shared her experience at the phone store.
“Why don’t people throw the thugs out?” she concluded.
Lucy and Espy looked at each other.
Finally, Espy answered, “Some people are afraid that they or their family or their business will be hurt. Some don’t think they can do anything alone that will make a difference. Some just turn a blind eye because they don’t think the bad things going on are their problem.”
“Are you scared, Mom?”
Espy considered the question. “Yes, sometimes I’m scared. I don’t want the people I love to be hurt. I don’t want anyone to be hurt. But, I know that unless we stand up against bullies, against their threats, they will take our freedom away.”
Standing unseen in the corner, the ghost watched the women of her family finish preparations for dinner.
***
As all ate together around the table, Manny once more shared her story from the phone store.
She ended with, “I want to do something to stop these hoods!”
The table was silent.
Then, Sam looked at Manny and smiled, “Let’s all go for a drive.”
***
The Resurrection of Puerto Cielo 27 of 41
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.
27
Lazy and Arnold were nosing the cute poodle as her mistress pushed an envelope through the Star’s mail slot.
“Go away!” scolded the lady under the big white hat as she hurried off dragging the dog behind. There was no exchange of greetings as she passed the watchful Bernie brothers. They’d seen her here before.
***
Sitting at a table in the corner, Sam was on the phone when Espy arrived in the editor’s office. She was surprised, her dad was not known as an early riser and it was barely eight.
“Don’t worry, Gloria, your mother’s obituary will be in the next edition,” Sam said,. “You’re welcome.”
He set the phone on the table, inserted ear buds, and started typing on a laptop computer.
Espy was amazed that, blind, Sam could do so much. Using the computer’s text to voice application, the computer talked to him as he wrote editorials, sports features and, yes, even the obituaries. His old manual Remington typewriter now collected dust under the table.
Hearing Espy, Sam swiveled in his chair, “What’s next, chief?”
“Coffee,” she said, suddenly aware she needed a stimulant before plopping down for another day’s work. She turned on her heels. Leaving the office she noticed an envelope on the floor by the front door.
Moments later, Sam sat sipping coffee at Espy’s desk as she opened the envelope and read the latest mystery letter, another single page with simple script,
“Ask Alvin about the secret books.”
Espy folded the letter, gulped her coffee, and stood up, “Looks like I’m going back to City Hall.”
***
Little had changed since her last visit to accounting. Sonya still sat with practiced indifference behind her desk. But the young woman had switched from painting nails to plucking eyebrows.
Sonya concentrated on the image in a handheld mirror as tweezers latched on to an errant hair.
“Ouch!”
Apparently, the hair’s extraction had been painful.
Espy had no sympathy and intruded, “Excuse me.”
Irritated, Sonya looked up, “What is it?”
Once more holding her tongue, Espy simply said, “I’d like to speak with Alvin.”
Staring at Espy, Sonya yelled, “Alvin, get up here!”
Alvin looked up from the chaos on his desk. His eyes immediately recognized Espy. He stood and scurried to meet her.
Taking her arm, he guided her away from nosy ears.
“Yes, what is it?” he whispered.
Espy whispered back, “We don’t seem to have fixed the previous problem. I’m sure you can straighten this out.”
With that, she handed Alvin the latest mystery letter.
He read the paper. Frowned. Looking back at Espy, he mumbled, “Just a moment,” and retreated to his station.
Returning, he handed the letter back to Espy. She noticed beads of sweat on his brow.
“Sorry about that,” he muttered, and crept back into hiding.
***
Did Alvin think this was some kind of spy movie? No matter, Espy thought, walking towards another night time rendezvous. So far his information had been golden and she was hoping for more.
Once again, somebody was lurking in the shadows as she approached Tommy’s Tacos.
She strode across the sand.
Alvin pulled her deeper into darkness, glancing around to ensure their isolation.
He handed her an envelope.
Espy noticed his hand was shaking.
He said angrily, “Here is everything you need to bring them down. Everything to expose the crooks who have been stealing from the city.”
“What do you mean stealing?” Espy asked. “How?”
“There are two sets of books, one for the public, one for the crooks. Every time the City puts out a contract for work or supplies and equipment, there are two costs. A higher one which shows up on the official records, and a lower one which is what is actually paid to the contractors and suppliers. The difference is pocketed by the corrupt officials. The unofficial books account for these differences so that the crooks know each of them is getting their ‘fair share’ of the swindle.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“For years, as long as I’ve been working here.”
“So, why are you sharing this now?”
Alvin lashed out, “I’ve had enough. I did their dirty work for years, hoping I’d get a cut, but I never even got a raise. Then, they hired Sonya, the mayor’s niece. She’s worthless and they pay her more than me for doing absolutely nothing.”
He caught his breath, then spat out, “I’ve had it. I’m done. I’m out of here.”
Alvin looked around, pulled his fedora low on his head, pushed hands into trench coat pockets, and disappeared in the darkness.
Really, Espy thought, he’s going overboard with the spy thing.
***
It was two in the morning before she finally made sense of what Alvin had given her.
There were dozens of accounting spreadsheets, with highlights on every page. She sorted them into public and secret and soon caught on to the patterns.
She saw how Prado Construction was supposedly paid one amount for the Pump House Project, but the secret pages showed Prado was paid much less, including a note cancelling final payment for “construction deficiencies.”
The same was true for contracted repair work, furniture, office supplies and equipment. On and on, millions of pesos secreted away in the past two years.
And this was just on the pages Alvin had printed out. There was also a thumb drive with documentation of even more years of criminal deceit.
She smiled when she saw the most current item listed on the public ledger.
Alvin had given himself a hefty retirement bonus. Fat chance that money would be coming back.
Astonished, Espy sat back in her chair.
This was big.
Very big.
***
When Sam came in with the morning coffee, he found Espy pounding out the corruption story. He sat as she explain the dummy contracts, the kickbacks, the junket trips, the city goods and services that had gone to private parties.
“And add to all that, the mayor’s mistress on the city payroll, along with who knows how many other worthless relatives and friends,” she concluded, standing up to stretch.
“This story is going to upset a lot of people,” he said.
Espy looked down at Sam and said,
“I sure as hell hope so.”
***
The Resurrection of Puerto Cielo 26 of 41
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.
26
Head buried inside the engine compartment, Mitch was doing the annual maintenance on Dona Consuelo’s ancient Mercedes sedan. Although it was twice as old as Espy’s Barbara, the aged Merc was in pristine condition, not a dent on it, everything in working order. Quite like the lady who owned the car, he thought, solid and reliable in spite of the years.
He looked out from under the hood at the kids gathered around G2 and her computer. She was focused and direct, giving orders, sending her troops into action.
The battle lines had been drawn.
Mitch smiled. One would be foolish to underestimate woman power in Puerto Cielo.
***
The rooftop loudspeakers blared “Vote for Roddy!” as the van slowly cruised down the street in the steady rain. Two bicycles came up quickly from behind, then veered to opposite sides of the vehicle. Each cyclist lobbed a bomb up into a speaker.
“Vote for R-r-…”
The campaign rhetoric sputtered and stopped as the bags of flour burst inside the speakers, squelching the sound.
As the marauders made off down an alley, the little dog in one of the bike baskets barked defiantly. It sounded a lot like, “Hasta la vista, baby!”
***
Carmen’s big smile was all over Puerto Cielo. The Zorros had plastered “Carmen for Mayor” posters everywhere.
But Ivan and Gomez were busy tearing the flyers down. At the end of one Main Street block, they stuffed the torn remnants of Carmen’s face into a garbage bin and returned to their car.
Behind the steering wheel, Ivan’s nose twitched, something stunk.
He looked over at Gomez, “You take a shower today, hombre?”
Gomez had just been thinking, man, Ivan reeks. He snapped back, “Of course I did! It’s you that stinks!”
“Me? No way, it’s gotta be you!”
The bickering went back and forth until, hours later, they discovered the dead fish under the seats.
The Zorros had struck again.
***
Perched in the front basket of Gabe’s bike, his little leg cast covered with signatures, Arnold held down a stack of “Carmen for Mayor” flyers.
He growled.
“Hola, chica, just what do you think you’re doing?”
Manny and Gabe turned from posting a “Carmen for mayor!” flyer on a Main Street storefront. There stood Julio with his gold tooth grin, holding a bunch of shredded posters under one arm.
He flashed the gleaming point of a knife in their faces, “It looks like you’re littering, but, no worries, I’m cleaning up after you.”
Shoving the ripped papers into a barrel, Julio flicked a lighter and watched the flames rise.
Still grinning, he added, “There, much better, don’t you think?”
Eyes locked on Manny, Julio pushed the knife blade towards her nose, “Now, I think you should move along and stop messing up the streets of our fine town.”
Gabe shook his head and whispered, “Boy, you are so very, very stupid.”
Manny stared at the knife, the burning posters in the barrel, and smiled sweetly at Julio.
“Oh, my, you are so scary,” she mocked, then added, “Call it.”
She flipped a coin high in the air.
Julio looked up at the sparkling, spinning silver and before he could blink, Manny had kicked the knife away, slammed a fist in his gut, and kneed him in the groin.
The bully collapsed, groaning. “Tails,” she said, catching the coin and returning it to her pocket.
“You lose.”
Manny bent down and grabbed his greasy hair, pulling his head back so that the anguished face could see the fire in her eyes.
She hissed, “Never threaten me again!”
Picking up the fallen knife, she tossed it into the barrel with the burning flyers. Then, pointing a finger at her sprawling, stupefied assailant, she added,
“Ever!”
As Manny and Gabe calmly walked away, Arnold put in a “Don’t mess with me” yip at the astonished tough.
Across the street in a dark grey limo, a girl watched unnoticed from an open window.
***
During a rare splash of afternoon sunshine, Mayor Roddy was doing his own campaigning, waving to the people who loved him as the caddy, top down, rolled through town. He failed to notice that his greetings to passersby were often returned with a one finger salute.
Crawling by City Park, the Caddy was buried in a barrage of rotten tomatoes. Juicy, bright red starbursts exploded all over the mayor’s pale blue linen suit.
Walking her poodle nearby, the lady wearing the wide white hat witnessed the attack and heard the mayor’s outraged scream.
She couldn’t have been happier.
So happy, she decided to write another letter.
***
The Resurrection of Puerto Cielo 25 of 41
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.
25
“Carmen for Mayor”
Bikes careening over rain drenched streets, the Zorros hurled the latest Star headline about town.
Public response was animated.
At Mama G’s, the brazen announcement sparked debate around the table of gathered ladies. A woman for mayor? This had never happened in Puerto Cielo.
“More coffee, Dona Consuelo?”
The group’s serious faced leader turned to see Mama G smiling and holding a steaming pot.
Consuelo pointed to the headline and asked, “What do you think, Gina?”
“I think it’s about time,” came the prompt response.
“So do I,” came the equally emphatic retort.
***
At the Red Rooster, one voice was not enamored with the headline.
“The people hate me. They love Carmen. I’m going to lose,” Mayor Roddy lamented.
Tibo drew deeply from his cigar and studied the pitiful face in front of him.
He blew a cloud of smoke into the mayor’s flushed face and calmly replied, “Roddy, it doesn’t matter how much the people love Carmen. What matters is how much they fear us.”
The fat man in the rumpled white suit coughed and squirmed.
Tibo added, “Relax, Roddy, worry will have its way and your ass is safe.”
Unconvinced, the mayor retreated to the bar for a bottle of liquid solace.
Ricky watched the hapless mayor slouch away, musing, I’ve surrounded myself with idiots. But life here wasn’t all bad. It didn’t take help with brains to run the rackets in Puerto Cielo. Prostitution, numbers, protection, a little graft, this was enough to maintain his simple, upscale lifestyle.
Besides, he thought, blowing three perfect smoke rings, nobody was shooting at him here.
Yet.
***