The Limping Gringo Stranger of Huacrapuquio (a short story)
The Limping Gringo Stranger of
Huacrapuquio
One afternoon Mayor Vladimir Rodriguez, he was told a stranger had come into town, his area of jurisdiction, the little hamlet called Huacrapuquio, in the Valley of Mantaro in the central region of the Andes, in Peru (a township of some 3600- inhabitants). The Mayor sat down in a wicker-chair, in his backyard under a patch of sunshine, listened to his Governor Theodosia Tapia speak on the matter; the Mayor pretended to be very busy, as he spoke. This was to conceal his fear, in that, someone had come into his town-let, come into it and haunted it, whom he had heard about prior to his Governor’s arrival, through the grapevine (the assistant Mayor, being the Governor of that township), was told—and he told the Mayor the same thing—if he was to stare into the stranger’s two vast, disjointed eyes, which were lit with points of coal-dark coldness, which also brought several men to trembling knees—he, himself, would notice them and endure the same fate; thus, the governor was in a state of wretched fear, confusion and dumfound ness.
But I want to go back a month or so, perhaps this will help the reader with the story, connect the dots as they say. The city was putting in a road of asphalt, and dug deep along a curves just outside the town-let, and to their amazement, uncovered an entrance to a cave— perhaps, more likened to a deep dry well, some forty-feet deep; matter of fact, one of the workers pert near fell into the open pit.
It was discovered, by shinning a flashlight down into the depths of the pit, bones of a 15,000-year old Saber-tooth cat, the size of a lion, paws larger than the man’s feet, inside his shoes. Two saber-teeth were found also, about nine inches long, matter-of-fact, 70%, of the ancient cat, that the anthropologists, and archeologist from Lima’s cultural and historical museum, figured it’s weight to be around 300-pounds, a youthful cat, and had it been older the weight would of course increased conceivably.
In the process of excavation, they noticed the arms, or front legs, paws, were twice the size of the back, eliminating the concept that such cats of ancient times resembled those of today, with bodies more proportioned. This cat had a thinner and less of a torso in comparison of the modern lion or tiger, it seemed as if it leaped upon its pray rather than trying to out run it, it would have been much slower because of those back legs—yet powerful they may have been to carry out that one time fatal leap, more so than the contemporary lion, or tiger of today.
The excavation proved—without question—to be a great find indeed, only one other such cat, was found to be so complete in the whole world, and that was found in the United States, where they had found 100% of the beast. This is what brought the Limping Gringo Stranger to Huacrapuquio, so they now say.
He had the stranger that is, a haggard voice, and those who approached him, noticed his quivering mouth as they looked into his sharp dark eyes. A few of the Peruvians had asked him, “What’s the matter?” A simple question that was never asked a second time, he was what might be called a fright-agent, he’d move his hand over his mouth, becoming inarticulate, in a despairing whisper, he’d be talking to someone, whom no one could figure out exactly who.
As you can see (or have read up to this juncture)—and I speak to you, the reader—the dots are seemingly related, that is: the appearance of the stranger, connecting to the hauntingness of his devil like eyes, and the discovery of the town folks’ ancient cat, connecting I mean, in a mysterious way, but connecting nonetheless. But in the following paragraphs, why he did what he did—be it for fame or game—no one has yet to put a figure on. Perchance, you can.
The stranger first appeared to be good natured and he was to all appearances just a stranger passing right on through the township.
For seeking out a better description, especially because of his behavior, the stranger was compared to the devil himself—quickly after his arrival—whom came to work his evil on this little hamlet, he seemed to have a sin against purity, there was no man worse in that town-let. But I am afraid—my narration is getting ahead of events.
The Mayor shook his head miserable to the governor, both of them sitting in those handmade wicker-chairs in the Mayor’s backyard, under a patch of sun. The Mayor cleared his throat, so that he could make his voice soft and say something quiet, if anything, without noticeable agony, and try to act like an intelligent politician. He then repeated to the Governor, in a devotional phrase, and he was not a man of God per se, but perhaps to act like it, in return God would help him to handle this correctly.
“Tell me what you’ve done for this man, I say, for him, and to rid this city of him?” asked the Mayor in penury.
The Governor looked at him through his near tearful eyes, and had no response, thus, the Mayor repeated himself, and again, he was reassured by the Governor’s distraught impression he created he’d have to abandon this approach.
●
The Mayor met the stranger, as the stranger had asked, which entailed seeing the remains of the ancient cat bones, still under excavation, they had been preserved in the mud, and the cave had been shut off from civilization, now to the contrary. At first, when he, Mayor Vladimir Rodriguez, met the Limping Gringo Stranger, he seemed pleasant enough—limped every other step it seemed, a bit off balance physically, matter-of-fact, they acquired a kind of commodore within minutes. But Vladimir was watchful, feeling behind the curtain of this man’s face, reverend or not at the moment, his mortal soul was alone in this situation, was in danger, and then the stranger did his labored whispering, sibilant and cautious, broken at intervals, as if he was talking to his higher priest, his words all being inaudible and in question, incoherent for the listener.
Said the stranger, the Limping Gringo, looking down at the bones, then at the Mayor, “I see someone broke the tooth during the excavation, it is not hard to fix…!”
The Mayor knew this was fact—that the tooth was accidentally broken during the process of digging it out, but how did the stranger know it was broken that way, and not in the past 15,000-years, this was in question—deep in the vaults of the Mayor’s mind, and was the Gringo implying he could fix it, really fix it to where it never was broken, or looked broken? Perhaps the stranger was teasing him, it was to the archeologists a difficult task, to say the least, and he said to the stranger with a daring voice, “This is a serious complex situation you speak of.”
The Mayor waited, straining nervously to hear what the stranger would say next, “I can fix it for you, standing up here, looking over it, if you wish?” said the stranger, in a quite clear and audible voice.
Vladimir’s turn to talk came next, he now being quite alarmed at the stranger’s statement—but the National Institution for Culture was considering building the township a small museum to house these bones, and this would be an unprincipled victory for him, if indeed he could fix the tooth, what seemed really to be unfixable, he would look even better; but it would be submitting to some kind of black magic, a weakness to his real faith—or so he proclaimed to be Christian, but living the life of one was a different road, I mean he had rosaries, and statues in his house of the Virgin Mary, and Christ on the Cross, and in his car a silver medal hanging around the mirror, but faith, that little muster seed the Good Book talks about, that was a different animal, it was far and in-between when he actually said a prayer, meant it without asking for something in return, not really believing, but going through the process, the motions to impress his onlookers as if he had that seed of faith, and if the stranger could have some kind of victory, in showing man’s weakness, in violation to humanity’s ability, so be it, let him show-off, but he would in the process stamp his association with the grayish world this man lived in, and be connected perhaps with the ebony mark of his soul. But so be it, it was a chance he was willing to take, and magic was more trick than authenticity, I mean, the Mayor believed that the devil himself had no more power that the tactician, perhaps likened to his faith in God.
Don Vladimir was almost memorized by the stranger’s eyes, “Yes, do as you say you can do, dazzle me if you can with the near to impossible,” said the Mayor to the Limping Gringo.
“Ok,” said the stranger, “I shall astound you,” and at the same time cast you into those unrepentant wild creator’s bones!”
“You are boastful,” said the Mayor, “you are taking up much of my time, and now you say, you can cast my flesh and blood into those bones, and fix the saber tooth now cracked in the blink of an eye, if you can’t what do you offer me for my time?”
The words blurred in the face of the stranger, but he kept his composure, and you could hear a husky mumble, he now hesitated as if tensely he was looking for something to offer.
“I confess,” said the stranger, “what do you want?”
Vladimir had never contemplated this before, but he had convincing ears that maybe something could be gained from this escapade. The stranger gazed at Vladimir, and fear took on a solid form for the mayor, he had not prayed at any given moment, nor tried to convince God Himself, he was in need, but nonetheless, he was in a tense emotional struggle.
And now there was beside him a most beautiful woman, she stood naked in a most shameful position, long reddish hair, youthful, “She can be your mistress for as long as you want her, a slight courtesy rendered to you, until you make up your mind, that is, what you really want.”
His heart and lungs beat fast as a trains wheels, pressing out of his chest, his face precipitately lay in the crook of his elbow, he took off his light jacket, and put it on this fleshly, shapely human looking female, as if to be a gentleman, in the devil’s world.
“Ok,” he said as if, he was ready to go home now, that there was not going to be any demoniac notion partially possessing him.
“Bless me Father,” he said to some dark face deeply imbedded into the stone wall of the cave, “My friend, he has taken a bite of temptation,” then instantly the bone of the saber-tooth cat, was mended as if it was new, then he looked at Vladimir, said, “This was really an easy task,” now the shadow of the woman, moved a little to the far corner of the narrow limestone slat that dropped forty-feet to the bones, and she waved for the Mayor to join him.
The Mayor had come to a point of exhaustion, still looking at the lovely lady, with immodest thoughts and desires, not even able to whisper the Lord’s name for help, too caught up in the evil being played upon him—the scheme of schemes, and in a strange, romantic excitement, a curious thing did happened, he fell with the damsel, and was melted into the bones of the beast, where he possessed the days and encounters of the beast when he walked the earth, 15,000-years ago.
●
The bones, with delicacy were taken out of the trench, and put into the town’s museum, even until the last moment, when he burned his bronze flesh as if in fire, into the bones, he could see the hard-eyed incorrigible girl whom seducing him, her tight pressed fingers shoving him deeper and deeper into the bones.
The stranger, the Limping Gringo that is, felt a great relief in a job well done. For the moment, the Limping Gringo, like the commoner in the king devil’s chair, he tasted the arrogance of the state of affairs, murmured to his high priest.
And now, Vladimir, who had come to his senses, he began to repent, aloud but of course, meaninglessly, “Oh, God Almighty, I am so sorry for having offended thee… but you must fix this now, lest I remain here and walk the same paths over and over within the life of the saber-tooth cat, and my life as well.”
A minute later, a door opened up in the museum, and you could hear a woman’s voice, giving two people a tour of the bones, a man, gringo from the United States visiting the township, and a Peruvian woman (man and wife), that is when he came to the full realization of what he had done.
In spite of his wishful thinking, this subterfuge of the devil’s helper was his impossible new world, at least until the final judgment day.
Note: Written out on napkins, 12-23-2008, a day after visiting the hamlet, Huacrapuquio, Peru, and handing out hundreds of books to the children of that city for Christmas, 2008. Completed on 12-25-2008, and reedited on 12-26-2008. The story originally written out in draft at 1:15 PM; having seen the town, and the museum, and hearing about the saber-tooth cat, of 13,000 BC., the author tried to plant fiction with nonfiction, creating this story, “The Limping Gringo Stranger…” The story does not show the real character of the Mayor or Governor of Huacrapuquio, whom are to the contrary of the writers characters; and should not be assumed otherwise.
Dedicated to the town folks of Huacrapuquio, Peru
Huacrapuquio
One afternoon Mayor Vladimir Rodriguez, he was told a stranger had come into town, his area of jurisdiction, the little hamlet called Huacrapuquio, in the Valley of Mantaro in the central region of the Andes, in Peru (a township of some 3600- inhabitants). The Mayor sat down in a wicker-chair, in his backyard under a patch of sunshine, listened to his Governor Theodosia Tapia speak on the matter; the Mayor pretended to be very busy, as he spoke. This was to conceal his fear, in that, someone had come into his town-let, come into it and haunted it, whom he had heard about prior to his Governor’s arrival, through the grapevine (the assistant Mayor, being the Governor of that township), was told—and he told the Mayor the same thing—if he was to stare into the stranger’s two vast, disjointed eyes, which were lit with points of coal-dark coldness, which also brought several men to trembling knees—he, himself, would notice them and endure the same fate; thus, the governor was in a state of wretched fear, confusion and dumfound ness.
But I want to go back a month or so, perhaps this will help the reader with the story, connect the dots as they say. The city was putting in a road of asphalt, and dug deep along a curves just outside the town-let, and to their amazement, uncovered an entrance to a cave— perhaps, more likened to a deep dry well, some forty-feet deep; matter of fact, one of the workers pert near fell into the open pit.
It was discovered, by shinning a flashlight down into the depths of the pit, bones of a 15,000-year old Saber-tooth cat, the size of a lion, paws larger than the man’s feet, inside his shoes. Two saber-teeth were found also, about nine inches long, matter-of-fact, 70%, of the ancient cat, that the anthropologists, and archeologist from Lima’s cultural and historical museum, figured it’s weight to be around 300-pounds, a youthful cat, and had it been older the weight would of course increased conceivably.
In the process of excavation, they noticed the arms, or front legs, paws, were twice the size of the back, eliminating the concept that such cats of ancient times resembled those of today, with bodies more proportioned. This cat had a thinner and less of a torso in comparison of the modern lion or tiger, it seemed as if it leaped upon its pray rather than trying to out run it, it would have been much slower because of those back legs—yet powerful they may have been to carry out that one time fatal leap, more so than the contemporary lion, or tiger of today.
The excavation proved—without question—to be a great find indeed, only one other such cat, was found to be so complete in the whole world, and that was found in the United States, where they had found 100% of the beast. This is what brought the Limping Gringo Stranger to Huacrapuquio, so they now say.
He had the stranger that is, a haggard voice, and those who approached him, noticed his quivering mouth as they looked into his sharp dark eyes. A few of the Peruvians had asked him, “What’s the matter?” A simple question that was never asked a second time, he was what might be called a fright-agent, he’d move his hand over his mouth, becoming inarticulate, in a despairing whisper, he’d be talking to someone, whom no one could figure out exactly who.
As you can see (or have read up to this juncture)—and I speak to you, the reader—the dots are seemingly related, that is: the appearance of the stranger, connecting to the hauntingness of his devil like eyes, and the discovery of the town folks’ ancient cat, connecting I mean, in a mysterious way, but connecting nonetheless. But in the following paragraphs, why he did what he did—be it for fame or game—no one has yet to put a figure on. Perchance, you can.
The stranger first appeared to be good natured and he was to all appearances just a stranger passing right on through the township.
For seeking out a better description, especially because of his behavior, the stranger was compared to the devil himself—quickly after his arrival—whom came to work his evil on this little hamlet, he seemed to have a sin against purity, there was no man worse in that town-let. But I am afraid—my narration is getting ahead of events.
The Mayor shook his head miserable to the governor, both of them sitting in those handmade wicker-chairs in the Mayor’s backyard, under a patch of sun. The Mayor cleared his throat, so that he could make his voice soft and say something quiet, if anything, without noticeable agony, and try to act like an intelligent politician. He then repeated to the Governor, in a devotional phrase, and he was not a man of God per se, but perhaps to act like it, in return God would help him to handle this correctly.
“Tell me what you’ve done for this man, I say, for him, and to rid this city of him?” asked the Mayor in penury.
The Governor looked at him through his near tearful eyes, and had no response, thus, the Mayor repeated himself, and again, he was reassured by the Governor’s distraught impression he created he’d have to abandon this approach.
●
The Mayor met the stranger, as the stranger had asked, which entailed seeing the remains of the ancient cat bones, still under excavation, they had been preserved in the mud, and the cave had been shut off from civilization, now to the contrary. At first, when he, Mayor Vladimir Rodriguez, met the Limping Gringo Stranger, he seemed pleasant enough—limped every other step it seemed, a bit off balance physically, matter-of-fact, they acquired a kind of commodore within minutes. But Vladimir was watchful, feeling behind the curtain of this man’s face, reverend or not at the moment, his mortal soul was alone in this situation, was in danger, and then the stranger did his labored whispering, sibilant and cautious, broken at intervals, as if he was talking to his higher priest, his words all being inaudible and in question, incoherent for the listener.
Said the stranger, the Limping Gringo, looking down at the bones, then at the Mayor, “I see someone broke the tooth during the excavation, it is not hard to fix…!”
The Mayor knew this was fact—that the tooth was accidentally broken during the process of digging it out, but how did the stranger know it was broken that way, and not in the past 15,000-years, this was in question—deep in the vaults of the Mayor’s mind, and was the Gringo implying he could fix it, really fix it to where it never was broken, or looked broken? Perhaps the stranger was teasing him, it was to the archeologists a difficult task, to say the least, and he said to the stranger with a daring voice, “This is a serious complex situation you speak of.”
The Mayor waited, straining nervously to hear what the stranger would say next, “I can fix it for you, standing up here, looking over it, if you wish?” said the stranger, in a quite clear and audible voice.
Vladimir’s turn to talk came next, he now being quite alarmed at the stranger’s statement—but the National Institution for Culture was considering building the township a small museum to house these bones, and this would be an unprincipled victory for him, if indeed he could fix the tooth, what seemed really to be unfixable, he would look even better; but it would be submitting to some kind of black magic, a weakness to his real faith—or so he proclaimed to be Christian, but living the life of one was a different road, I mean he had rosaries, and statues in his house of the Virgin Mary, and Christ on the Cross, and in his car a silver medal hanging around the mirror, but faith, that little muster seed the Good Book talks about, that was a different animal, it was far and in-between when he actually said a prayer, meant it without asking for something in return, not really believing, but going through the process, the motions to impress his onlookers as if he had that seed of faith, and if the stranger could have some kind of victory, in showing man’s weakness, in violation to humanity’s ability, so be it, let him show-off, but he would in the process stamp his association with the grayish world this man lived in, and be connected perhaps with the ebony mark of his soul. But so be it, it was a chance he was willing to take, and magic was more trick than authenticity, I mean, the Mayor believed that the devil himself had no more power that the tactician, perhaps likened to his faith in God.
Don Vladimir was almost memorized by the stranger’s eyes, “Yes, do as you say you can do, dazzle me if you can with the near to impossible,” said the Mayor to the Limping Gringo.
“Ok,” said the stranger, “I shall astound you,” and at the same time cast you into those unrepentant wild creator’s bones!”
“You are boastful,” said the Mayor, “you are taking up much of my time, and now you say, you can cast my flesh and blood into those bones, and fix the saber tooth now cracked in the blink of an eye, if you can’t what do you offer me for my time?”
The words blurred in the face of the stranger, but he kept his composure, and you could hear a husky mumble, he now hesitated as if tensely he was looking for something to offer.
“I confess,” said the stranger, “what do you want?”
Vladimir had never contemplated this before, but he had convincing ears that maybe something could be gained from this escapade. The stranger gazed at Vladimir, and fear took on a solid form for the mayor, he had not prayed at any given moment, nor tried to convince God Himself, he was in need, but nonetheless, he was in a tense emotional struggle.
And now there was beside him a most beautiful woman, she stood naked in a most shameful position, long reddish hair, youthful, “She can be your mistress for as long as you want her, a slight courtesy rendered to you, until you make up your mind, that is, what you really want.”
His heart and lungs beat fast as a trains wheels, pressing out of his chest, his face precipitately lay in the crook of his elbow, he took off his light jacket, and put it on this fleshly, shapely human looking female, as if to be a gentleman, in the devil’s world.
“Ok,” he said as if, he was ready to go home now, that there was not going to be any demoniac notion partially possessing him.
“Bless me Father,” he said to some dark face deeply imbedded into the stone wall of the cave, “My friend, he has taken a bite of temptation,” then instantly the bone of the saber-tooth cat, was mended as if it was new, then he looked at Vladimir, said, “This was really an easy task,” now the shadow of the woman, moved a little to the far corner of the narrow limestone slat that dropped forty-feet to the bones, and she waved for the Mayor to join him.
The Mayor had come to a point of exhaustion, still looking at the lovely lady, with immodest thoughts and desires, not even able to whisper the Lord’s name for help, too caught up in the evil being played upon him—the scheme of schemes, and in a strange, romantic excitement, a curious thing did happened, he fell with the damsel, and was melted into the bones of the beast, where he possessed the days and encounters of the beast when he walked the earth, 15,000-years ago.
●
The bones, with delicacy were taken out of the trench, and put into the town’s museum, even until the last moment, when he burned his bronze flesh as if in fire, into the bones, he could see the hard-eyed incorrigible girl whom seducing him, her tight pressed fingers shoving him deeper and deeper into the bones.
The stranger, the Limping Gringo that is, felt a great relief in a job well done. For the moment, the Limping Gringo, like the commoner in the king devil’s chair, he tasted the arrogance of the state of affairs, murmured to his high priest.
And now, Vladimir, who had come to his senses, he began to repent, aloud but of course, meaninglessly, “Oh, God Almighty, I am so sorry for having offended thee… but you must fix this now, lest I remain here and walk the same paths over and over within the life of the saber-tooth cat, and my life as well.”
A minute later, a door opened up in the museum, and you could hear a woman’s voice, giving two people a tour of the bones, a man, gringo from the United States visiting the township, and a Peruvian woman (man and wife), that is when he came to the full realization of what he had done.
In spite of his wishful thinking, this subterfuge of the devil’s helper was his impossible new world, at least until the final judgment day.
Note: Written out on napkins, 12-23-2008, a day after visiting the hamlet, Huacrapuquio, Peru, and handing out hundreds of books to the children of that city for Christmas, 2008. Completed on 12-25-2008, and reedited on 12-26-2008. The story originally written out in draft at 1:15 PM; having seen the town, and the museum, and hearing about the saber-tooth cat, of 13,000 BC., the author tried to plant fiction with nonfiction, creating this story, “The Limping Gringo Stranger…” The story does not show the real character of the Mayor or Governor of Huacrapuquio, whom are to the contrary of the writers characters; and should not be assumed otherwise.
Dedicated to the town folks of Huacrapuquio, Peru
posted by Dennis and Rosa Siluk @ 9:03 PM
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