Viejo Mundo / La Vida De La Dona

Viejo Mundo




"Hurakan..."spoke El Cacique. "I can smell the water of the great sea burning"... said El Cacique...
"The dead..."
"To speak of the dead is wrong..."
"Men of no color?"
"Men of any color?"

Canimao and his men gathered the remains of the men of no color, the men of no color, who suffered the storm...
"They are dead and deserve rituals of their dead..."
"They are dead, Cacique," said Canimao... "We do not know their ways...
"Nor do we know their intent... They consume without the intent of nourishment...
Canimao...since you will explore where they come from... It is your choice...
We will...gather their remains from the beach and ready them for transport...It is a long journey and I fear we will know what we fear to know...
The fear of where these men come from...
Return them to rest...
I fear they will come back..."Cacique shooed them away....and to himself he spoke.
"We arrived to this world too late and the world will return us too soon...
They're hunger is like the heat of an angry fire...
The fear is they are seekers of desires, of lonely people who never stop looking for they know not what they seek...
Their desire, their urge is insurmountable... a mountain never to be looked upon or climbed upon..."

Canimao and his men gathered the bodies...
They had been laying dead for days after the storm and Canimao and his men found their bodies while gathering supplies for their own expected journey across the great sea...
The great sea was tormented...inundating them with a great wash...
Canimao climbed out of the boat and let the cold of the great water wash over his legs. Looking back across the sea where so much of their lives had been spent in the recent months of their voyage. Here they arrived to find and explore the land of men with no color that would bring them to the land of the men they sought, the men who died in a terrible storm that lashed the shores of Canimao's home land. Saddened by the lost men and their failed quest...Cinimao's quest succeeded with his warriors quest to bring them home.
Canimao gathered his warrior's and searched for the items of the lost men. They were pale men challenging what is known by the people's bohiques, surmising the dead man's origin and considered adding the found men to return them to their people and their land...
Canimao's spear, tethered to his waist, a shield held in his arm, six warrior's, all exhausted from there long trip, still healthy and fit but thinking of rest and hunger. They found a place to camp among in the tree, hidden from view of any natives. Finding their bodies laid about the beach, Canimao asked his people for volunteers, to help gather their bodies and things then try and transport them all back to their homes, a dangerous and great distance away...The dead men were sailors from a land over the horizon. A consult with the chiefs and bohiques led them to understand where the pale men were from.
Canimao once heard of people like them who's color was pale compared to him and his people. Their home, a journey long and far away on the great water and much preparation would be involved.
Canimao, I have heard of these men but have never seen them, they are explorers of riches and only riches, they seek wealth from others to add to their wealth as their own. Your quest is your own but know their lust stains them as blood. But know the consequences of your journey.
In the year 1491, inhabitants of a land far across the Atlantic, arrived on the shores of Portugal. Canimao and his crew arrived in a large seaworthy vessel with the personal belongings of the men they found after having succumbed to a terrible storm off the shore of Canimao's land. Each, equipped with survival pouches, and information describing the men whose lives they tried to save; men who arrived across the ocean in a land they believed was in Portugal
"Canimao, how will we find those who knew those men?"
Shaking his head side to side, "I don't know yet, we don't know the language, who the men were, I don't know how but we shall try with their goods of trade."
Canimao and his crew disembark from their sailing ships and scan the forests perimeter, looking for signs of life while dragging their boats up from the waves onto the shore. They quickly unloaded the boats of their goods and packed the remains of the men of no color, the items that were theirs and lay them beside the their own and the lay down to relax and rest and ponder their journey. They had After some thought they will walk along the edge of the forest without delving too far from shore prowl along the forests in search of someone who might help them find the origins of the men they helped. They do this without calling attention to themselves. Skirting along the edge of villages they judge who they will try and communicate with... They watch the daily lives of the inhabitants of this new land and they wonder...
His name was Lilo, by age, young but much older in spirit so much so they all noticed... Canimao especially took not of his will and his demeanor though and they didn't know each other's language and seemed to talk easily..
Canimao knew to show Lilo the items he brought to represent the men who he returned across with them...
Lilo one of them and understood them to be the men testing the waters for a great voyage...
They meet a boy during the effort to find food, a boy Lilo from Portugal was curious and very helpful helping..Lilo is able to help the men escape from near capture of the colonialists who were gathering funds and supplies for the Kings mission to find more of the world and it's riches...
Lilo helped gather the few goods needed by the visitors to start their return journey across the waters to their lands.
What is left is still to be had... To be taken and will be the claim of the northern European over the original black men
Six other able men and six able men who died as a terrible storm lashed the shores of Canimao's home.
The world is finite despite the belief of many...

Abuela

“Bring me more. Quickly!” Abuela roared!

Lilliana scurried out of Abuela’s room and off into the hall, down the stairs and doubling back into the kitchen, where a large stockpot filled with gruel boiled violently, spilling it's slop onto a filthy black iron stove. She placed abuela's giant clay soup bowl on the wooden table opposite the stove, then dipped the big wooden ladle in the soup and stirred.

Lilliana looked at her reflection in the worn and stained metal tile finish of the wall behind the stove.

She wasn't pretty anymore. Not since Abuela took Lilliana from her parents. Her hair matted now, when once she was young her hair draped gracefully over her shoulders, black and shimmering. Her black eyes had once drawn stares but were now ringed with black circles. Her face wrinkled and worn, pasty white, lips parched, mostly hidden by her matted hair. She wore a stained blue house dress that clung to her bones; bones that poked through her skin like junk filling a Hefty garbage bag. It seemed to her that her breasts would grow no larger than the pimples they were.

Puberty would never be the same for her as it would be for so many other girls

The gruel continued to pour over the side.

It was the only way to make this gruel right abuela said. Bring it to a boil and keep it there. Simmering won't stop the demons, boiling them will. To kill them though, you had to eat them. And abuela did. Everyday she ate demons, as she called them. Everyday. Always as a soup. She hated the soup, but it had to be done. The demons were out there and as long as she was alive and still had her powers, she would eat them

The soup boiled but wasn't filled with enough meat. “Anton!” Lilliana called down the stairs to the basement. “Anton! I need some more meat for the soup. She turned back to the pot on the stove, leaving the door open for Anton to drag up some more meat from the freezer.

Anton was this tall lanky black guy, with a big head and black Einstein hair, wearing a long black t-shirt, faded blue jeans and pink Keds sneakers.

Anton was abuela's manservant. He did all the repair and heavy work around the house. As well as dragging bags full of demons up from the freezer when Lilliana needed them. He did all the gruesome work on them too. He found them, brought them home and kept them in cages, then killed them and chopped them up. Though Anton was mostly silent all the time, occasionally whispering something to you in your ear, she could hear him talking to them. Lilliana would ask what they would say and wished she could go down and talk to them too. He always said no. He would always say that what the demons said wasn't so important

Then why do you talk to them?

Oh, just something to do before I kill them I guess. It calms them. I like them calm. They thrash around less when I’m cutting them up.

On this day, though, Anton agreed to take her down later to speak with the last one before he killed it

Lilliana returns to Abuela with her soup.

Describe big and ugly grandma. This is Abuela’s big intro!!!

They talk. Abuela tells more about these demons she must eat and how they hide in little bodies to fool everyone but the most knowledgeable and aware

Anton takes Lilliana down to the basement, where she is introduced to the demon a little girl of about ten who calls herself Trisha. Lilliana talks with Trisha, asking her questions about her life at home. What her parents are like. Her home. Her friends. Her toys. School. Does she like boys? Trisha often whimpers, afraid of Anton. Lilliana tells her that Anton is really a sweet guy. He just has a job to do As they talk, Anton paces by, after chopping at meat in the back room, putting it in the freezer, then returning, bending down to Lilliana who sits outside the cage on the soot covered floor with Trisha, and reminding her . . .

“Trisha is a demon, don't let her fool you.” Anton walks away up the steps.

Lilliana asked her outright . . . are you a demon

What's a demon Trisha asked.

She sobbed uncontrollably. She doesn't understand. She did nothing wrong. Why was she taken. What were they going to do to her?

Anton watches from the open door of the cutting room

Trisha asks about the locked door. Lilliana tells her it is where all of Abuela's secrets are hidden

Lilliana wants to know more about the games Trisha plays.

Lilliana lets her out to play, closing the basement door. They play awhile but Lilliana doesn’t recognize her own strength and so Trisha finds the play to rough. Together they press their ears to the secret closet door. They can only imagine. Lilliana tells what she knows about Abuela’s past. That she was a Bruja, and she made clothes for a living, clothes that some said had magical powers. To wear her clothing could be either good or bad luck, no one ever knew. And so the people of her small town in PR exiled her. What happened to all the clothes she made? Perhaps that is her secret.

The bell from Abuela rings out, deafening them. Lilliana runs, dragging Trisha into the cage and leaving her crying. Anton calls down from the top of the stairs to the kitchen. Lilliana fills another bowl from the seething pot on the stove then hurries back up the stairs to tend to Abuela, as Anton unloads another bag of demon meat into the pot While Lilliana sits with Abuela on her bed, feeding her, she looks out of the window to the empty streets.

Their home was a condemned tenement in Brooklyn, the only one on the block left standing. The building was surrounded on all sides by a debris ridden one-acre lot. In the distance she could see children playing in the schoolyard, from which Anton had found and taken two demons in the last year Lilliana turns to Abuela and asks. Do you ever wonder if you've chosen the wrong child Abuela looked up from her soup bowl? Her eyes glistened when opened so wide. Suddenly her head grew twice its size and thrust forward to meet Lilliana's. Abuelas exposed monster teeth, the ones she needed to chew the demons well but hid in her gums behind her mortal set, and sneered at Lilliana.

Saliva and blood dripped down from her stained fangs, a horrible stench from her breath warmed her face and made Lilliana turn away, sick and afraid Abuela relaxed, sitting back. Her head shrunk back to normal size, her teeth slowly retracted, allowing her to speak again. “Lilliana. Your mother and father wondered the same thing when I went to them with the truth. I told them what some children had become in the wombs of their unsuspecting mother. That two of their own children might be demons. And when I found them to be so, they fought me, until I killed them all. Except you, Lilliana. You were born free of demons. They had not found you because you were supposed to die in your mother’s womb. But you survived.

Don't doubt my powers, Lilliana. Don't doubt my knowledge, wisdom and awareness. I know that it may all seem amazing and fantastic, and terribly cruel and morbid, but the horror's we live with must be found and our world cleansed. Trust me, Lilliana.

Lilliana bolted from the room crying

Lilliana sat in the kitchen with Anton, who had made them both some hot tea. Lilliana asked Anton if he ate the soup too. No! Only her grandmother could, because if a mortal drank demon remains, they would be possessed themselves, and she would have to kill and eat them also. Demon infested adults were much more difficult to deal with. Younger mystics could deal with them better than an old ugly fart like Abuela. Perhaps Lilliana would one day be groomed to carry on Abuela’s mission.

Lilliana asked Anton if he was ever afraid they were making a mistake. That they might be killing innocent children

I used to, Lilliana. For a very long time I was doubtful of what I was doing for your Grandmother.

Did you ever say anything to her?

No! Oh no! I'm sure she knew everything I thought, as she knows all that you have in your mind, and anyone else’s that she cares to invade. But I never said anything to her

Then you're no longer doubtful?

Those doubts are all gone. I trust your grandmother, as you should too. And you will. . . eventually.

Lilliana went back down to the basement without Anton's permission to speak with Trisha in whispers, hiding behind a column beside the cage, while Anton hammered away at the meat in the cutting room down the hall. Trisha asked all the questions. Asking about Lilliana's own past. Her own childhood. Lilliana becomes sad and feels strongly for Trisha.

Trisha asks what a demon is. Lilliana explains. Trisha wonders how could she be one. She does nothing but go to school, play with her friends and play with her toys. Anton pokes his head out to listen, believing he hears voices, but then goes back to work

Lilliana walked quietly down the hall to the cutting room, never having seen inside the room before. She had never seen a demon dismembered. She stepped in and watched in horror, as Anton chopped away at the body of a small child. She looked away, sickened, and saw a sledgehammer leaning against the wall in the corner of the room.

Trisha reached for it and lifted it over Anton's head. Anton turned and saw her, as Lilliana brought the hammer crashing down on Anton’s big head, mashing it to pieces like a ripe pumpkin at Thanksgiving. He fell to the ground. She knelt down to check if he was breathing, leaning close to him. His eyes opened wide and she pulled back Lilliana, whispered Anton.

Lilliana. You should've listened to your Grandmother

His eyes closed and she assumed he was dead

Lilliana ran down the hall to the cage, keys in hand that she had taken off the hook in the cutting room.

She unlocked the cage as Trisha's face brightened. Trisha scurried from the cage, holding Lilliana's hand as they hurried up the strairs to the kitchen. The kitchen door to the backyard wouldn't open. Lilliana wasn't allowed out and she never saw how Anton left the house. All the doors were bolted Abuela's bell went off Abuela knew

A great roar rattled the plaster walls. Cracks like lightning opened them up. The house shook. And like thunder, there was a constant slow pounding that came from above, causing the whole house to quiver. Abuela had become a monster.

She was stalking them. My God! What is that asked Trisha

My grandmother said Lilliana.

Lilliana and the girl run down to the basement, to the locked door that keeps Abuela's secrets. She smashes the lock and enters a room filled with mementos of Abuela. Abuela goes in after them, confronting herself, she dies Lilliana battles her Grandmother. Lilliana wins and frees the girl Trisha thanks Lilliana, sprouts a demons reptilian wings and flies away, laughing

Lilliana finishes her story, pointing out how she had taken on her demon hunting chores

Broken Slate

Miguel lost count of the number of times he awoke before sunrise and sat at the edge of the bed, his hands gripping and pulling at the mattress, stomach heaving with nausea waiting for the sun to rise as if it would bring any solace. His hands pushed down, straightening his back. Both legs bounced in place, each to a different rhythm, shaking the bed hard enough to awaken his wife Maria. Maria lay on her outstretched arm nightgown falling limp to that side, flowing like white water over her exposed ample breasts.

Maria watched him for a moment then crawled over to Miguel on all fours, draping her arms gently over his shoulders, pressing the back of his head to her bosom.

"Miguel", she said. Her voice like a child's, soft and sweet, soothing.

"Te puedo ayudar, corazon? What's wrong?" she asked.

"It's nothing," he said.

She rubbed the back of his head with her breasts. His eyes closed. His legs stopped bouncing. His breathing slowed and his grip on the mattress loosened. She kissed his neck, in a line to his ear. His head fell back deeper into her bosom. She pulled away from him and crossed to the other side of the bed. Miguel fell gently back onto the bed. Maria lay on her side. Miguel turned over and stood on the bed on all fours, looking at his wife.

"Make love to me, Miguel."

He looked at her for a moment. Then all at once he felt a rush of pressure throughout his body. He weakened. His heart beat relentlessly. He grew dizzy.

Miguel is a young Puerto Rican man, living in Brooklyn with his hardworking loving Papi, a proud mother, married to a loving and doting wife and father to a five year old girl, seems discontent and wonders why.

Miguel has a good job that pays him well, working for Papi at the moving company, and comes home everyday to a happy clan. He participates in many familial and extrafamilial activities, but still feels empty. Like butterflies fluttering in his empty belly.

Miguel stands alone in the backyard of the tenement they live in. His Papi had long ago renovated the back courtyard before the family had moved in, before Miguel was born.  Miguel was born into and played in it all his life with his friend Andy. He recalls his childhood. The new world the backyard had become for them. The fantastic lands that each corner and brick planters had become in their imaginations.

As always he could feel the ground tremble underneath. He always believed there was something under the slate courtyard; as a child he imagined a great dragon, as an adult he often imagined it to be just water. He stood on the cold spot, that stretched across the yard, and lay his head down on the ground, as he did when he was a child, and pressed his ear to the cold stone to listen to the dragon roar.

Miguel talks with a neighbor from the other building that shared the courtyard. They whisper about the old man in the rocking chair, who is always at his window, looking down on the yard. Papi often visits the old man, but rarely talks about him. Mommy knows little about him.

Miguel talks with his friend, Andy, about their childhood and the games they played.

He tells Andy he is considering breaking the slate to open the ground. Andy thinks he is crazy.

Cold night. Misty. Miguel awakens to the roar of the dragon in his head. He can't sleep. He walks to the window overlooking the yard. Then prowls the apartment, listening to the others as they sleep. He steps out and goes down to the basement and takes the sledgehammer from his Papi's tools, sacred tools that were once used to build the yard, which he would now use to destroy it.

He goes out and listens to the ground. The fierce rumble below his feet. He finds the loudest point and begins to beat the ground there.

Papi is asleep. He dreams terrible images. Then slowly awakens, realizing the danger.

The neighbors awaken calling out for him to stop the noise. The old man watches. He stops rocking. Papi comes rushing out, but not before Miguel breaks the ground.

“What have you done? What have you done, Miguel?”

Papi stares at Miguel, his face quivering, exasperated.

"What good have you done by destroying the courtyard? By exposing the water?" Papi looked Miguel in the eyes. Miguel's eyes dribbled with tears.

"I don't know," said Miguel. "I don't know, Papi. I guess there is no good in what I have done. But I don't do it to achieve anything good."

"Then what?"

"Anxiety. It was there and I knew it. But I needed to see it. I needed to see that it was there. That it really was just what I thought it was."

"Mi'hijo. No te entiendo. What did you think was underneath?"

"Water."

"Agua?"

Miguel walks away leaving everyone baffled with an answer he certainly feels is sufficient.

"Agua, Miguel? Bueno, entonce . . . then what?"

Miguel stepped through the door into the basement hallway, and was gone from sight.

"Miguel! Answer me, carajo!"

Papi immediately begins to repair the courtyard.

Miguel takes vacation time from work. His wife is a little upset about that. She would rather they had gone away. It is a waste of time sitting around the house drinking beer, sleeping, eating and watching your retired Papi repair the courtyard.

The following Monday, Miguel calls into work and tells his supervisor Papi's closest friend, that he will not return.

The friend rushes over to speak with Miguel's Papi. Miguel watches from the window as the two talk outside. He can't hear what they are saying. The friend leaves. Papi then enters the building. Miguel could hear through the daytime silence of the building Papis heavy footsteps sound louder as he neared the top floor where Miguel and his wife lived.

"Miguel!"

Miguel sat at the kitchen table drinking beer. Papi found the door unlocked and stepped in. Miguel greeted him with delight. Papi was angry. He then berated him for being so lazy and taking advantage of the family's kindness to him.

"I didn't ask for it," said Miguel.

Their conversation continues  . . .

Miguel continued to spend his days at home, mostly alone. But often walking to see old friends down at the old social club, where the Latin music rippled through the summer silence, keeping everyone up until late at night. During the day he often sat alone outside on the stoop drinking, then at the end of the day greeting his family as they arrived home.

The family is distraught and angered over Miguel's sudden breakdown.

Miguel would spend his evenings alone in the courtyard, standing over the freshly laid slate, and then walk the presumed path of the underground water flow. It flowed toward the old man, who sat still at the window, in the dark, looking down on the courtyard.

The next morning, breaking his two-week-old routine, Miguel stood at the point of the flow where it met with the wall of the old man's building. Everyone came to him to wish him a good day, even Papi.

After everyone was gone, Miguel walked outside of the building and followed the presumed flow of the brook into the street, then out of the neighborhood.

When his family returned home that evening, Miguel was gone.

As time passed for them, they all believed Miguel was gone for good.