Rompecabezas

“You thought that the barman in Aramberri was some sought of magician,” El Cuervo de Plata was saying. “His name is El Ojo Negro (The Black Eye) and he is not of course a barman.”

Jabez had made a meal with some supplies the old Indian had brought with him. He had a pickup parked around the back of the house, although I never heard him drive up when he first arrived. We sat, all three of us, around the little wooden table which we had moved outside to take advantage of the breeze that was moving the air. If not cooling it, it still felt better than being inside.

“He is responsible for some of the things you experienced back there. He is the enemy.” He left those last words on the table like he had just served up a recipe for disaster and a challenge all rolled into one. It made me think about what had happened back there, and it made me wonder what El Cuervo de Plata knew about it.

“You have to prepare for the battle ahead, and I will help you. I will help both of you, and you will help each other.” He took out his long stemmed Indian pipe and took his time to fill the little clay bowl from a pouch he produced from a pocket somewhere under his poncho. Matches followed, and he carefully lit the contents. A puff of smoke mushroomed up into the air. He was talking again. “Tonight you will need, each of you, to start your journey.”

He drew on the pipe, I watched the blue grey smoke, and I thought, ‘haven’t I just completed a journey to get here.’

“You will find your spirit and you will prove your strength.” Then he turned his pipe and blew out the hot little ball of ash. “I will help, but it is your battle, it is for you to discover, and you will have to face your demon.”

Those words hung heavy in the air. I could see that Jabez had a concerned look on his face and a hint of fear in his eyes.

“You will prove yourselves, though it may take a little time. It might not be accomplished in one night.” Then he was standing and walking into the house, leaving us with our thoughts and misgivings.

*****

We sat outside on the warm earth which had been heated by the sun all day long. We formed our little triangle, exactly like the night before. El Cuervo de Plata took the pieces of green cactus from a bag in his sack and passed them to us. I had a strong feeling of apprehension, I couldn’t help thinking this time it won’t be the same. I looked across at Jabez who appeared unconcerned, but in my mind were the words the old Indian had said earlier, ‘You will have to face your demon.’ I took the plant and began chewing, it had a bitter taste and induced a sickly feeling in the stomach, but it was after that you knew the world changed.

El Cuervo de Plata was talking, “Remember the demons you see are only what you create. They are not real, they come from within you. So you can destroy them, just as easily as you created them.”

Maybe true, but those words were not comforting, they just added to my uneasiness. It had been getting dark, but now it was pitch black. I wondered where the moon had disappeared to. The day had been clear, no clouds, by my reckoning there should be moonlight tonight. I looked about me and I did not see either of the others. Instead I was standing in a courtyard, not unlike that of the Palace with it’s scented garden. Not unlike it with one important difference, it was black, no gleaming white marble here.

A pillared cloister ran all around the four sides of the courtyard. Dark shapes cast strange forms in the blackness. I looked around and suddenly felt a twinge of fear. I thought I noticed those dark shapes moving. The hair tingled on the back of my neck. They were moving, jumping around. I peered into the gloom and despite the darkness I could clearly see the small figures moving around in the gloom of the cloisters. There in front of me were what appeared to be naked boys, small, young boys. They moved quickly, they darted here and there. I relaxed a little, they didn’t seem to pose any threat.

This was perhaps my first lesson, never let your guard down, because now I saw clearly these creatures were chasing one another. I saw one small boy catch another, grab a hold of him from behind, gripping his shoulders and mounting him. Yes, he was taking the boy from behind, I saw his little curved penis, I watched him sink his teeth into the other boy’s shoulder and bite him. Then I saw this apparently impish boy was actually something else. He had two tiny horns, one each side, just above his forehead. They all had horns. There were lots of ‘boys’ chasing, catching, mating with each other. I watched his hips thrust into the little creature he had hold of and I saw then what looked like a tiny tail sticking up from behind. It was like a scene from one of those old medieval paintings, a gigantic orgy of impish little devils. Somehow they appeared to glow reddish in the deep black of the night.

I was startled by the hot breath of someone standing next to me, almost touching my right shoulder. I turned to look at him and a shock wave passed right through me. Every tiny little hair on my body stood up, a cold sweat chilled my skin. The man standing next to me was formidable, tall, with a huge broad muscular chest. Horns came out of his head, a long pointed tall swished behind him. His teeth gleamed white and long like the teeth of a carnivore, or a vampire. Most impressive of all, a huge cock curved up towards his stomach; hard, thick and long. Fear was mixed with excitement. I couldn’t imagine anyone being fucked with a cock that big, but it was hypnotic, and despite myself I was hard. He held a spear with two pointed ends and he gestured with a sweep of his right arm towards the scene in front of me, the orgy of impish little devils.

He spoke to me without talking and I heard every word. “All this and whatever you desire can be yours.” I could not say that I was not fascinated by the scene before me, that desire was not building up inside me, temptation. “You only need to swear allegiance to me,” he said, as if that was nothing at all. I knew, however, deep down I knew that was not so. I knew what it would mean. I would swear allegiance and my sexual appetite would in some way be satisfied, my base desires fulfilled, but at what price? I knew the answer to that question. I would swear myself to the devil and he would take me from behind, just like all the little devils were doing. I would be helpless as he entered me with his gigantesque penis. I would have to give my body and my soul.

Like the reflection of the moonlight on the rolling ocean waves, the scene before me shimmered and vanished with the wave of his muscular arm. Demitri was in his bedroom, standing next to his bed, moonlight glimmered through the window. He was nine years old. He was about to get undressed and into his pyjamas. I was in the room watching, like a shadow on the wall, but I was no longer nine years old, and that made me feel sad. He pulled off his t-shirt, leaving it hanging over the back of the chair by his bed. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and kicked off his sneakers, first one foot, then the other. He learned forward to remove little white socks with two red lines around the tops. He threw them towards the chair and one landed half on, half off, the other tumbled to the floor.

I was overcome by a mixture of emotions and by an unfulfilled longing for a boy from my past, a boy I had loved completely, with my whole heart. I was glued there watching the scene unfold, watching him. He stood up and removed his jeans and pants in one go, walking over to leave them on top of his t-shirt on the chair. He was naked in the moonlight, dark tanned skin, smooth and beautiful. I could not stop looking, even though I was intruding on his intimacy. My eyes followed the curve of his body; from his jet black hair, down his smooth skin, over his small round buttocks, down the back of his legs. He walked naked across the room to the window, and I wondered what he was looking at, framed there by the glow of the moon. I wondered what he was thinking. I watched him turn around, I remembered the time he had shown me his willy and in return he got a look at mine. He had asked, ‘does it stick out sometimes?’ I told him it did and we both laughed at that.

He moved to stand in front of the three drawer dresser which stood against the wall, between the window and his bed. He bent forward over the dresser, resting on his outstretched arms, his palms flat on the surface and he looked at his reflection in the mirror. I felt a hot breath next to me and I heard the words in my head, “Take him, you can have him, you know you want to.” The words had no effect on me, I had no such depraved lust inside me. Only a nostalgic sadness for a childhood friendship from the past and a long forgotten time of innocence.

I was in the black courtyard, dark as the moonless night. Across from me was the devil himself and behind him a hoard of little monsters. A red glow, like the fire from hell, framed them all. I felt something or someone standing next to me on my left. I turned to look over my shoulder. A large black head, with tiny ears, growled like an animal. Sharp fangs glinted. In that instant it leapt forward over my shoulder, a huge jump. I followed it’s arc through the air. I saw it’s tail swing from side to side, maintaining it’s balance, keeping it upright. Magnificent, powerful, yet also incredibly graceful, like a cat. It landed with a loud thud and a deafening roar.

I was looking at the dusty earth outside the little house. The trees, the well, illuminated by the moon light. I watched as the jet black feline padded off into the distance, turning it’s head to look back at me. Yellow shining eyes glowing, before it turned to continue it’s journey towards the mountains, mountains I hadn’t seen before. The first rays of day break were chasing away the night, El Cuervo de Plata was smoking his pipe, Jabez was sitting across from me. It was just as if nothing had happened at all.

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