Stupidity

   The moment I came out of the water, I felt I was being allowed to live for some more time. It had been torture to swim to such depths in order to enter that cave, which acted as a secret hideout for those people. They appeared to have mastered the art of diving but I had no idea what was going to happen, so my reaction when we finally got there was entirely comprehensible. I think that even they thought so, because they let me cough and curse for a while, until everyone was inside the cave.

 Then, as before, they drew out their guns and pointed at me. They had kept them in tightly sealed bags and now they could use them again to threaten my life. The crazed man that had pushed into the water was the closest ones and water pressure had done nothing to eliminate the crazy face he was looking at me with. I knew he was just working for his boss, making sure everything happened according to plan. But I hated him nevertheless, for his weakness and his lack of interest for anything else than his boss.

 We started walking through the rock, the path illuminated with small lamps pierced into the cave itself. Someone had spent their time doing that, making the place seem like some sort of secret lair, which reminded me of movie villains, the kind that twist their moustaches and laugh in the most horrible and hilarious way. But this man was not one of those villains, he was much worse and he was capable of things no one would even imagine, things that no comic book villain would ever do.

 He had used the natural caves of that region of the Mexican coastline, to hide whenever someone came too close to his dealing and business. The amount of drugs he sent to every corner of the world was simply baffling. I had the chance of seeing some of the packages they were preparing and it was simply too much to send without the authorities noticing something strange. And yet, they managed to do it and sell millions and millions of dollars a year with such a rentable business. It was scary.

 And there I was, in the middle of all of it, just because of a mistake. Just because I had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but also because I had allowed someone to take advantage of my stupidity. I promised never to fall for that again, but those kinds of promises are always empty and stupid, because most times people do not learn from their mistakes and I have no reason to be the exception to the rule. This wasn’t the first time I did something wrong, but it was the first time it had such serious consequences. It was obvious I could be killed at any moment and why I hadn’t was making me uncomfortable.

 We finally got to a nice open gallery, where it was very cold and humid. The crazed man ordered me to stand still while some of the other men went ahead and checked if everything was fine. I just stood there, dripping wet still, trying to understand it all. Because it was obvious I should’ve been killed hours earlier but I hadn’t. Someone had prevented that from happening and I needed to know why. It was obvious their boss was the one who knew most, if not all, the answers and I had to speak to him.

 We were given clearance and moved ahead in moments. The next room was surprisingly lit by natural sunlight and had a pool of blue water in the middle. It was an outstanding view. So surprising in fact, that the crazy guy hit me with his gun because I had stopped to appreciate the space without his permission. He made my ribs feel broken, but I had to resist the pain and just walk on. We finally got to another illuminated room but this one was much larger and had no water in the middle. And he was there.

 Their boss was not the kind of man who I thought would be running an operation like that one. Maybe because the boss was not a man, but a woman. She had olive skin and curves that would have made her into a model in the eyes of any expert. However, she was delegating tasks and had a big gun strapped to her side. I also noticed a knife on her right sheen and a couple of scars all over her body. The woman had seen her fair share of battle and one would think that’s why she was fighting back.

 When she noticed me, she walked straight to the crazy eyed man and demanded her to tell him why they had taken so long. They started arguing about thing I did not understand, and I remembered I was in a place I didn’t fully comprehend.  I knew that they were dealing with drugs and that the man that had taken me there, to the coast, had been working with them, but that was it. It was not like he told me everything that was going on in his life. He had used deceit to take me there and I had fallen for it.

 She finally looked at me but didn’t say a word, she just smiled. Then, she ordered her men to bring a present she had prepared for me. I was very scared when I heard the word “present”. From someone like her, it was probably something not very pleasant and far from what a normal person would call “a present”. I stood frozen on the same spot, looking at her looking at me. It made me nervous but, somehow, it also disgusted me. It was as if I could feel what kind of person she was only by looking at her. And if my feeling were correct, she was simply the worst.

 Finally, the present was brought it. And it was none other than him, the man that had taken me with him to a luxurious vacation to the Mexican Riviera. I had been easy and stupid enough to accept, not seeing his probable true intentions. He was beaten up, his face all covered in bruises and cuts. But he was breathing and was apparently able to use his eyes because he stared at me and just said my name. He must have thought I was there to save him or something, as if I could do that.

 The woman came closer and explained that she knew everything that had happened. The man, a drug dealer, was her link to many mafias and other criminal organizations around the world. That’s why he travelled far and wide, making connections to strengthen their sales in other countries. He would often get men to help him, by making them think he was in love with them or at least very sexually attracted to him. And according to the woman, that ploy had worked surprising well for years.

 Apparently, many men had come before me, thinking they were there to enjoy the beach and the beauty of the region, only to realize that they were going to be used as drug mules or would be forced to work as dealers, under threat against themselves and their families. Some of those men were even closeted and that was another way to pressure them into doing whatever the organization wanted them to do. And others were just junkies, that would do anything in order to have at least some of the merchandise.

 He didn’t say a word after she finished talking about him and his men and his boys. He didn’t say a word. And he could’ve, even if it was hard to understand him. But he didn’t say a word. I had no idea what to do. I was trapped and would have to do whatever they wanted me to do know. They owned me because I hadn’t been strong enough to refuse his advances. I had been distracted by his looks and his charm. Stupidity runs wild in humans and especially in jaded men.

 She looked at me and, without saying one more word; she pulled out her gun and blew his head off in front of me. I gasped, but did not scream. His body fell lifeless on the floor, staining the beautiful clear rock with the darkness of the blood. The crazy eyed man grabbed the body and soon disappeared.

 The woman walked towards me and grabbed my face. She wanted to take a good look. For a moment, I thought I was dead, but then she called two men and told them to escort me to the airport. I would leave and never talk of anything I had seen there. She didn’t threaten me, she just knew I wouldn’t talk.

The Rain

There was no way of seeing anything in the downpour. It was as if the sky had been ripped apart and all the water from the clouds came rushing down, hitting rocks and houses, trees and mountains.

I live in a small cottage, on the outskirts of a small town in the highest mountains in the region. I love living here but sometimes it gets lonely. Although, to be honest, I don't really mind. Since George, my husband, died all those years ago, I have grown accustomed to being alone, only with Nancy as my companion. Nancy is a golden retriever and a present from George.

The day of the downpour, I had just come back from hunting with her and we were exhausted. I twas then when it started and it didn't seem to end. Actually, the rain went on all night and continued the next morning, with the same intensity.

After having lunch, I decided to check my computer for news about the storm, as I thought it was for sure related to a storm somewhere. Not a surprise, my internet feed was down and by sunset I had no electricity in the house. Nancy was restless as she hated complete darkness which is quite uncommon for a dog.

We sat by the fireplace to heat ourselves, she slept while I read. And then I heard someone knocking at the door. We were both startled and, for a moment, I thought I was imagining it. I relaxed my muscles but then I heard it again and I couldn't ignore it. Someone was outside and it seemed impossible but it was real. As I came close to the door, I realized that the town was not very near but the road was and maybe someone had an accident. So I opened.

On the other side there was a young boy, maybe ten years old. He was trembling from the cold, his clothes damped and about to collapse. I let him in and look for a towel, as Nancy helped him get close to the fire. After drying him a bit, I told him to take of his clothes in order to dry them by the fire.

As I waited outside the bathroom, I noticed a fragrance in the air, like flowers. Somehow, that reminded me of something but I had no clue what. The boy came out, covered in the towel, leaving his clothes in the sink.

He didn't spoke a word. He sat next to Nancy, by the fire and the dog seemed calm as the boy stroke her back. I twisted his clothes, leaving them a little less wet and then put them in a chair next to the fire. I didn't thought they would dry a lot but it was better than nothing.

I then asked the boy where were his parents and what had happened to him. But he just looked at me and said nothing. He was probably shocked or something. Maybe he was in a car accident and his family was on the road. I had to check. I put on my jacket, a hat, gloves, other pants and my boots. I told the boy to stay there but I never knew if he heard me.

Outside was awful. I had never witnessed a hurricane but I thought that storm must have been very similar. I couldn't see much so I decided not to head down to the road but rather to a an area that overlooked it from above. The rain was a pain in the ass but when I got there, I saw nothing. No people, no cars, nothing.

When I came back to my house, and it took time, I smelled again flowers and something else. When I got to the kitchen I realized it was the boy, cooking. Nancy stood by him as he dropped some vegetables into a big pot filled with water. He realized I was there and then he finally spoke.

 - I was hungry. Do you want some?

I nodded. He was cooking on my portable stove and I was frankly surprised he had poured my gasoline on it. After a few minutes the night fell and the boy served the soup. 

We sat by the fire and enjoyed our meal. Even Nancy had some and she loved it. To be honest, his cooking reminded me of my husband, as he always loved to use vegetables in his preparations. Not that he cooked much, but when he did it was all about mother nature and its gifts.

When we were finished, I asked the boy again about his parents and why he was alone in the rain. A thunder fell and I was startled, even more when he started speaking just after it.

 - You have always been scared of them.

 - How do you know that?

He raised his shoulders and grabbed the plates. After washing them, he came back and stroke Nancy again as she fell asleep.

I felt a bit nervous by then. The kid didn't seem too normal, he knew things and hadn't said a word about his family. Other kids would be terrified and would scream or cry or fight. But he just looked to the fire and stroke my dog. He seemed at peace.

Later, I told him it was bed time. He would sleep on the sofa, by the fire, and I would heat some water for me to sleep in my room. Nancy could stay with him. I gave him a think quilt my mother had made many years ago and he said another puzzling thing:

 - I've always loved this quilt.

I ignored this and put the quilt over him. When I did he grabbed my hand and looked at me to the eyes. This made me nervous but he pressed harder and then spoke:

 - You should do something with your life. Don't close yourself to the world. You have a lot to offer.

The only thing I could do was smile and not sleep. Not for the whole night. It was after 5 AM when I finally fell asleep. My last thought was: "Why am I not hearing the rain?".

I later realized the storm had stopped and that my guest, the little boy, had left in the morning. He had folded the quilt as George did and then I realized what had happened. I opened to the door and called for him, knowing it was useless.

My one true love had come to me and I didn't realize it. Although, he was right. I had come here to be away of everything, as life reminded me of him every second but that had been a wrong move from my part. That day, I decided to sell the cottage and move to the city, closer to my son and to his children.