Dead Watchers by Robby Richardson - HTML preview

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Chapter 7

BLACK VOODOO

[Hakeem Rashard]

(10/23/2005)

 

“Are you sure that this is the place?” I leaned forward in my seat as the driver of my 1974 Rolls Royce Limo pulled up to a swanky little strip joint in the outskirts of Bayou Cane, Louisiana. “Driver, you’re sure that your detective found him here?” The strip club sat in the middle of the swamp on a small island in the bayou. The only way to get to the club was across a rickety bridge, hence the name, The Girls Over The Bridge. “Are you sure Williams, it looks awfully dirty, my shoes Williams…my shoes!” The driver sounded a little frustrated but I didn’t care. After all, I paid him a handsome salary to drive me wherever I needed to go. “My sources have informed me that he’s here tonight, but tomorrow, well who knows.” “Well I will take your word Williams. Hiroyshe, will you stop looking at that damn picture and get your head in the game!” The small Asian man raised his head. His black suit hung loosely as his small bowler hat made him resemble Oddjob from the James Bond movie. “Why do you keep staring at that picture,” I watched as he tucked the picture away, “my half breed nephew…I haven’t seen him in many years. I fear for him Mr. Edwards. They have been carving him up like your American roast beef.” “OH boo hoo, you’re not here to feel Hiroyshe! You’re here to protect the greatest life, the life of Ron Reid! A man that changes hearts and minds, bringing progress to a world brought to the brink of chaos, now focus! As a matter of fact stay in the limo I’ll handle this.” He nodded his head with a snide “very good sir, very good.”

I stepped out the limo as my foot sank several inches in the mud. “Damn it Williams, damn it!” I stared up at several hillbillies walking across the decrepit swinging bridge. “God can’t you people afford roads down here,” the men just laughed stupidly as they disappeared into the noisy little strip club. Scrapping off my shoes I had to watch my step until I got to the decaying wooden steps of the strip club. I hesitated where I put my hand and even used my sleeves to open up the swinging doors to the club. The bar was crowded filled with multiple small tables like stages and many pool tables. Chairs surrounded each dancer, and I began looking for a man that stuck out like a sore thumb. I scanned the bar as the lights flashed all around me. The girls danced in their skimpy outfits with men gawking around them. It was a sea of typical American “trash”. I knew I found my man, when I saw several turned heads towards the only dark skinned man in the club.

The man’s back was to me as he cheered loudly with a particularly pretty white girl dancing all over him. He had long dreads each a different shade of blue and red tied in a large pony tail. I moved through the chairs and crowds of people approaching the man. As I approached him he muttered “Ron Reid, my old friend! I would never expect you to be in a place like this.” I froze as I said “how did you know I would…” But before I finished my sentence I knew the answer and we both said in unison, “The bones!” I nodded “right, right I keep forgetting that!” He motioned for me to take the seat next to him as the woman continued to gyrate on him. “Well, you are a hard man to get a hold of. Do you know how many private detectives I had to hire to track you down?” He had a young face with chubby cheeks and a horrible case of cloudy corneas. In addition, he had long worm like sores over his arms and in parts of his face. Veve voodoo symbols tattooed sections of face as well. “I go where the spirits send me,” I gave a little smirk “of course you do.” “You know if you carried around a cell phone,” Hakeem shook his head “I told you they cloud the soul…if our paths are meant to cross then they shall.” “Whatever Hakeem, listen I have to ask you something and you make it so hard for people to keep in touch with you.” Hakeem smiled, “I’m on a journey.” “A journey,” I exclaimed and continued, “A journey of what?” He rubbed the dancer’s cheek as she smiled seductively at him. “The soul,” he whispered softly. His interest in me starting to fade, “listen there is a reason why I sought you out.” “I know,” replied Hakeem simply as the song ended with a final treble.

“Another dance,” he replied to the girl who began to withdraw, “baby you have had me for a whole hour and still haven’t paid me yet. Let me go make my rounds and I’ll come back.” “But your beauty must be seen by a man that appreciates the art of your seduction.” “I’ll be whatever you want as long as you keep giving me that money,” she replied. “For the weak a system of currency…very well,” he reached into his long black trench coat and withdrew a pile of money. He pulled out a twenty that did not look like any money I had ever seen. It didn’t look American and the girl who looked a little blurry eyed stared down at it herself. “What the hell kind of money is that?” “Oh,” he said sounding a little surprised. He raised his hand up and crumbled the money in his hand and snapped his fingers. When he opened his palm there lay a hundred dollar bill, only there was something off about it. It was a lighter green and looked to be forged. Maybe it was the color? Maybe it was the white outlines, or maybe it was Benjamin Franklin giving the thumbs up? The dancer took the money as Hakeem said, “forgive me my dear take an extra ten.” She took the money, “oh hun you are too kind to a girl. I’ll make my rounds and come right back ok dear?” She blew him a kiss as she walked away.

He turned to me and began to laugh which was something other worldly. “How,” I began to point to his hand and then the girl, “what is money to the blind? I showed her exactly what she wanted to see.” “But it wasn’t real, I could tell it was fake even the extra ten,” he raised his finger. “Ah my friend…greed will blind us all,” I shook my head still confused. He pulled out a little vile with a cork stopper in it, “and this helps too!” He shook the chalk white powder and smiled “complements of the other side.”

He pocketed the bottle as he stared at all the girls like a lion picking out a piece of meat. “So do I dare ask,” I said as he seemed to trail off. “You may but I already know the question.” I shook my head “I don’t understand how you could know?” I nodded as his eyes widened at me, “right, right, the bones, always with the bones!” “So, ask me the question you came to ask,” “you have been a part of my life for years Hakeem, and well you helped me get to where I am now.” Hakeem nodded his head “true, very true. I have used much magic to see you succeed.” “I was wondering if you could possibly help me out with a problem I’m having once again.” “What kind of problem,” he asked sounding mildly interested. “There is a position that I am currently interested in. The president of Mexico is currently looking for a new ambassador for Uganda. They have been having problems with a ruthless warlord by the name of Raska Ongwen. They call him Dongola Miso, he leads…” Hakeem waved his hand, “On my travels around the world I found myself in Kampala and heard of the Lord’s Resistance Movement. So, yes I know this man that you speak of.”

I was about to continue but a curious smile had appeared on Hakeem’s face. “What,” I asked suspiciously. He shrugged “nothing my friend” but continued to smirk even wider, “seriously Hakeem! Ron Reid will not be made a fool! Do you know who I am…do you? Now tell me what is so damn funny!” “I just wanted to know how far you were going to go with that story,” “it’s no story Hakeem.” His smirk turned to a frown, “then why does it smell of such bullshit!” His rotting brown teeth smiled back at me as he slowly stroked a black satchel at his side.

I gulped a little feeling a little tight around the collar, “how dare you presume to pull the wool over my eyes Ron Reid. I have gone to prison for you…many times and for many years in fact! The real question is do you know who I am? Arrogance is the sign of a foolish man, but know this I can take your soul,” he snapped his fingers, “like that!” He glared at me, “Lies empty from your mouth, do you really want to see what happens when I open mine? My very breath will bring a plague to this land and scourge the Earth. You lie to everyone around the world, but you will not bring lies before me. Don’t forget how you achieved all your titles…the reason for your constant arrogance. You climb the ladder, but I built it!” I nodded, “of course Hakeem sometimes I get a little carried away. When we met at that bar in Guadalajara I doubted your powers at such a young age, but I never doubted them again.”

After several tense minutes a smirk appeared over Hakeem‘s face. “So,” he said leaning back in his seat. “What is it that you want...another deal? I’m afraid my tastes have grown more sophisticated during my travels.” I dwelled on it but finally said, “I need you to go someplace for me. There is something…evil and you’re the only man that can solve this problem.” Hakeem reached around his neck and pulled out a tiny brown sack, “I am prepared to offer you a very generous amount of money for your participation. You know that I am a man of my word.” Hakeem emptied the contents of the sack and several different pieces of chicken bones scattered over the table. “Silence,” he growled “your money has no appeal to me. After all the business that we have done you should know that money was always second on my list.”

I sat in silence as I watched Hakeem throw the bones. They clattered all over the table. He raised his hands as he stared down at the mess. I watched his eyes wander over every piece and taking in every position. “Why do I see eight men with me…wait,” he stopped and pushed a chicken bone several millimeters “nine other people with me?” His eyes rose to me waiting for an answer, “your back up, we don’t know what to expect…and frankly we don’t know what it is.” Hakeem still scanned the bones, “I see an eye, why do I see an eye?”

His eyes rose as he stared at me. I shrugged as he continued to glare at me in suspicion. “I really don’t Hakeem, I really don’t,” he returned to the bones. “I do see a creature…large as a bear, fangs, one red eye, and claws made of bright silver. The creature is a demon. Its name is whispered among only the bravest of people from where it really came from. It seems out of place and in such pain.” He shook his head, “I see death following the creature.” “Death…are you sure,” Hakeem nodded still studying the bones. His dreads slowly sliding out from his ponytail. “Yes,” as he now scanned the bones with a certain curiosity, “but the bones are blank to me…there are no names. Why won’t they tell me?” His head rose, “I mustn’t go…” he waved his hand over the bones, “the creature cannot be stopped. I am afraid my skills are useless against it.”

“Please Hakeem, I really need your help in dealing with the creature. I will fly you out and pay you…” Hakeem snatched up the bones, “I told you Ron your money is shit to me! You mortals putting mere paper above life! Love is the real power and I am a man that has a big heart to give,” he began to laugh as he scanned the area for what looked like another dancer. “So women, I’ll give you women like I did before. Remember that brown haired Brazilian girl I got you as a thank you for removing my competition in Zacatecas?” “I can get my own women I don’t need your help with that. A woman’s mind is fragile and weak. You know my collection and I have the proof, and that proof goes wherever I go.” I smiled, “yeah but I can get you some real pieces of art better than the kind you can find in the middle of a swamp. I am talking true collector’s pieces this time and disease free! Lord knows you don’t need anymore STD’s.” “Collector’s pieces huh,” he said starting to rub his chin, “how many pieces are we talking?” I shrugged, “well, how many will it cost for you to go?”

Hakeem seemed to dwell in his thoughts. He took a long time to ponder on it. I knew that he was a sucker for beautiful women. Maybe that is why people referred to him as the Black Death? I even heard in Africa his name being passed around as one of the four Horsemen bringing the plague wherever he went. In Africa it is said that his very breath would cause instant death. His love for the finer things in life has caused him to catch diseases that are still left to be discovered.

I remember one time catching him in a dirty club in Cambodia. Sent to represent Mexico in an upcoming trade agreement, the club’s name was literally translated as The Hole. He was hooking up with a sweaty woman that was clearly the pick of the litter in a club like that. I remembered asking him, why he was so difficult for me to find? After getting passed the spiritual mumbo jumbo he said, “I want to see and experience all the beauties and unravel all the mysteries of the world.” Unfortunately all the little surprises he received over the years have all gotten half treated since he was constantly on the move and most of the times clinics were not easily accessible. I never knew how he still hooked up with girls. Although most nights he was taking home a different piece of “art”.

“Alright,” he said nodding his head, “I’ll do it but I want the finest you hear me at least ten and I want one as property.” “Property…you mean like…a slave,” he shrugged, “think of it as a personal companion… my own personal piece of art sculpted by me of course.” “Very well and I can give you an all expense paid plastic surgery for the girl as well.” He nodded at me, “very good and I would like to receive medical treatment from the finest doctors in the world.” I gave a “consider it done…I can have a physician meet you on the plane…do we have a deal?”

“We have a deal…when do you want to leave?” I smiled, “how about now?” “Now,” yelled Hakeem “but I haven’t even experienced the whole gallery!” “I promise you there will be women on the plane. Upon your arrival I can have some hot tea for you as you prepare for you trip.” “Tea, tea…I think the great Ron Reid can do better than mere tea!” “I’ll be accompanying you so we can find a nice cognac or bottle of wine, only the best for my partner.” In the back of my head I was wondering where I would even begin to get a female “companion”. Luckily, he didn’t need to know that I would never even need to look for one.

[Hakeem]

I rose from my chair as my dreads had come undone from my tail. I gave one final look at the “gallery” as I left. The girl that had danced on me was grinding on another gentlemen. I followed Ron out to a white limo and accompanied him into a seat, “who the hell is this?” I stared at a built Asian man sitting with a bowler hat glaring at me, “oh that is just my protection.” “Protection,” I replied as I reached by my side and revealing my satchel. “Ok, but if this is a trick Mumbato here will have a field day,” “Mumbato,” Ron asked. I reached into the satchel and began to whistle slightly. I pulled out my Black Mamba snake. I watched the fear enter Ron’s face but the Asian man did not stir. “Oh yes Mumbato, I had forgotten about him. I felt my body grow a little stiff when the Asian remained motionless. I had never met a man that did not even flinch at the sight of Mumbato. Mumbato curled in my lap as I held it by the back of his head, “Hakeem is that really necessary to bring out that, that thing?” I motioned my head towards the Asian, “is that really necessary?” “You got your protection…I got mine,” Ron just nodded, “I brought you some tools for the trade.” I watched as Ron reached under the seat and pulled out a brown suitcase.

He opened it to reveal different powders and viles, “you see I got all your stuff for you already.” I stuffed Mumbato back in his satchel as I grabbed the suitcase. I scanned the items over, “Where did you get this stuff ? How do I know if they work?” “I picked it up from Mother Agwe,” my eyes rose sharply “Mother Agwe?” Ron nodded hesitantly “yeah, I thought you would know who she…” “Of course I know who she is…she is a dangerous woman!” “Well, well, well I don’t think I have ever known anybody to strike fear in the mighty Hakeem.” “Oh Ron if you only knew that half of it, if you only knew.”

(April 20, 2005)

I opened the door and immediately had to duck. A lamp had gone over my head and smashed into the wall. I saw the young Miller’s daughter distraught in the corner of her bedroom. Her brown hair was clumped together in sweat as her eyes were wide with terror. I heard the worried Mr. Miller yell “what do you think it is Hakeem?” I tried to hide my smile, whenever I heard that little tremble in a person’s voice it always made little dollar signs gleam in my eyes. “I have no idea what it is!” I heard whatever was left of my conscious scream from the depths of my soul, “LIAR!” It screamed up at me and it was right, it was always right. I knew exactly what was happening and I knew if left in this state in an hour or two she would be dangerous. After three or four, she would become suicidal and take her own life. I had seen this in many, many other people before. This scam that I was running was nothing new. It played on the weak and foolish. It was the only thing that was guaranteed to get me money. However, this would be the last time I pulled my “sure thing” scam. Selling fake powder to blind souls became my new way to make money. I hated money and everything it stood for, however in the end we are all slaves to greed. My greed stemmed from my love of priceless and unique works of “art”. And just like the Mona Lisa, my art can be experienced by anyone and at anytime. This time my money needed to go towards treating my most recent punishment. I was combating the secondary stage of Syphilis.

The Miller’s daughter screamed as she clenched at her greasy face, “GET’EM OFF ME!” The father gripped me with his rough hands and yelled, “please Hakeem help Dora I’ll give you anything!” His daughter screamed as she began to claw at her skin. I knew that her hallucinations were intensifying, “I might know a way a very complex and costly way.” The father yelled “Dora,” and began to push past me. I grabbed him tightly, “no you can’t go near her.” “She is my daughter,” he screamed “only I have the cure, and if I don’t administer it to her now then she will die!” “Please Hakeem, I’ll pay anything just help her!” “Very well,” I simpered trying to hide my excitement. “I’ll need five thousand dollars… cash…in my hands.” His face shook, “We don’t have that kind of money!” I knew that he didn’t have that kind of money, but I knew that it was an amount that was attainable. I also knew that the medication I would need for my ailments would cost a pretty penny.

“Do you want me to save your daughter,” “but Hakeem I can’t get that kind of money! You did spells for me before…can’t I offer favors?” “I’m sorry Mr. Miller I am afraid this spell is something I can’t perform for free.” “Mother Agwe believes in helping the people,” “even Mother Agwe has to pay bills somehow. I am a slave to them just as she is to hers.” “THEY’RE ALL OVER ME,” she screamed as her nails dug into her skin letting her own blood run down her arm. “HELP HER,” he yelled at me, “will you get me the money?” He nodded “anything just please help her!” “Alright, go get me the money and I will handle your daughter in the mean time.” He nodded again and tore from the hallway like a bat out of hell. I smiled as I moved into the room and closed the door. “Dora, I know what you’re going through, but you have to listen to me…hear my voice.” I began to approach her, “PLEASE they’re all over…” She rushed over to me and grabbed my shirt, “GET’EM OFF ME!” She let out a blood curdling scream as she stared into my face. She slammed into the corner, “STAY AWAY FROM ME!” “I’m going to give you something that will get rid of the visions and hallucinations.” “There’s a snake around my neck,” her eyes widened with terror as she scrapped and clawed at her neck.

I began to reach into my coat for the antidote, “all I need is some…” I stopped when I heard the door beginning to open. “Mr. Miller stay out of here it is too dangerous for somebody like…” I turned to the door to see a heavy set woman framed in the doorway. She looked like a giant plum in her purple moo-moo, which hung loosely with rhinestones around the ends. She was tapping her chin with a look of mild inquisitiveness, “well, well, well,” she exclaimed. “Mother Agwe,” I said trying to hide my surprise. “Hakeem, the traveling Voodoo man, the Black Death, a plague to all societies, a man believed to be one of the four Horsemen…from your good book Mr. and Mrs. Miller.” I tucked the necklace beneath my shirt. “What are you doing here Agwe?” “I flew down here as soon as Mr. Miller called me telling me about his daughter and your involvement. Which whore house did you come from this time,” I tugged at my trench coat. “I didn’t come from any,” “mhm,” she said with doubt clear in her eyes. “I can smell it from here Hakeem...for shame.” She began to advance towards me, but I reached into my satchel. “Stay back Agwe don’t make me hurt you like before,” “hunny if you’re talking about when you left, I didn’t shed a tear.” “No,” I snarled as I withdrew Mumbato. He curled around my hand and leapt at Agwe fangs withdrawn. She dodged the snake as quickly as I had withdrawn him and backed away. Mumbato rose up and hissed as I began to whistle softly at my protector.

“Mother Agwe do you know Hakeem,” Mrs. Miller huf edf. “Unfortunately I do child, unfortunately I do…he’s the reason I flew out here so quickly.” I heard Mrs. Miller drop her jaw in shock. She gazed at me with a look of utter disgust, “how…how?” She was a thin woman that I could break with the slightest push. Mother Agwe huffed, “he is my no good husband. We married in February…won’t even sign the divorce papers! Too busy trailing for booty and conning the weak minded… no offense, I just mean anybody with decency, not a pig.” She waved her hand as her turban swayed a little, “can never find your stupid ass Hakeem…traveling all over the world…screwing everything you can fi nd and here you are before my very eyes!”

I held Mumbato tightly in my hand not realizing that I was standing on the bed. Dora sat curled in the corner crying and shaking. “Can you cure her,” asked Mrs. Miller and without any hesitation “my child if I can rid myself off all the diseases this man has given me of course I can cure your daughter.” Mr. Miller walked in and with a shaking hand he brought the money…here Mother Agwe, please take it just help our daughter!” Mother Agwe stared at Mr. Miller and waved her hand at him, “No Mr. Miller that will not be necessary…you’re good people who have been played by the darkness of a good thing. Any religion whether Voodoo or Christianity should not charge for helping the truly needy… besides this is personal.” Dora began to slap herself as if mosquitoes were attacking her. “I only ask that you make a donation to my charity, Voodoo People which help out people like yourself.”

I stepped off the bed and walked towards the door turning Mumbato to them. Mumbato hissed loudly as the Millers’ withdrew. Mr. Miller snarled, “I trusted you, but now it all seems to make sense.” “Get out of my way,” I snapped. “They’re coming,” whispered Dora who was now reaching for Mother Agwe’s hand. “Hakeem…wait,” snarled Mother Agwe whose eyes could freeze the devil himself. “Give me the juice,” I felt Mumbato coil tighter over my hand. “No, it’s mine! It’s always been mine…” “I took it from you because it was too dangerous in your hands. I took it for the good of all mankind. YOU STOLE IT the day you left! That does not entitle you to its ownership,” “IT”S MINE! IT BELONGED TO ME TO BEGIN WITH AGWE!” “I’ll tell you what Hakeem, give me the bottle and you can leave.”

“You’re letting him leave…just like that,” Mr. Miller shouted. He seemed ready to start tying up the lynching rope. “I’m afraid so, but don’t worry I will see him again. I mean look at us it’s only been a month since I last saw him.” “You will never see me again,” and for the first time I saw her smile. It was the kind of smile that should be followed by chirping birds, “my dear Hakeem even your old bones could show you possibility, besides my bones are much more vocal.”

“PLEASE GET’EM OFF,” Mother Agwe jumped as she clenched her heart, “Oh child I had forgotten all about you…having myself some fine old memories!” “And what’s to stop me from making you a memory Agwe,” “because you’re afraid of me and as long as I have known you Hakeem you’re not a fool. You know my power and you would never cross me.” I began to laugh, “I fear nobody! I have been to the other side and received gifts that you could only dream about.” “Really,” she exclaimed with such sarcasm that she didn’t even appear to be listening anymore. “And that it is why you have been giving out fake powders and false prayers?” Mr. Miller stared back at Mother Agwe and then back at me, “so he is liar, a swindler…he knows nothing about Hoodoo or Voodoo? Why would my cousin Ron send you over to help us with our crops if you were nothing more than a crook?” I watched her smile, “let me take a guess Mr. Miller at what has happened. He shows up to help with your crops and all of a sudden your daughter becomes hysterical like this, am I correct?” Mr. Miller nodded at her and she thinned her lips at him, “Is he a liar…yes…a swindler…yep, a crook…oh yeah, but knows nothing about Voodoo or Hoodoo,” she motioned her hand halfway. “He knows them but only knows what he chooses to know and what his parents taught him. The most powerful thing this man can wield is his mother’s Devil’s Juice contained in that black pouch. I told him that when we were married to understand a religion like Voodoo you must know all parts, the good and the bad. Although, it would appear that he didn’t actually know anything he is still probably the most evil man I have ever encountered. What he does know should be feared. However, what I’m sure he neglected to tell you and I am ashamed to admit is that I expanded his knowledge from mere family rituals and powders to a much bigger picture. In other words, he knew some chapters...I taught him the book.” “And you would do wise to remember that Agwe…ah, I feel another episode coming on.” The girl began to convulse violently on the ground as she grabbed at Mother Agwe’s moo-moo. “However Hakeem’s fear can only hide from the light and it will always hide every time. Dora listen to me child there is nothing on you it’s just a vision, it’s just the poison.” Mother Agwe tried to wrestle from Dora’s clawing hands. “Goodbye Agwe until we meet again,” “don’t you run out that door Hakeem.” I raised Mumbato at Mr. Miller, who took several strides towards me. “Don’t be a fool Robert,” “get off me girl!” Mother Agwe was fighting Dora off who was now climbing her way up her body, “please… they’re under my skin!”

I raised my hand and tipped my Derby hat “until we meet again!” I backed out the door and tore from the doorway. I heard my Agwe’s commanding voice, “that’s right Hakeem run back to your whore house in the bayou, but I have foreseen your death. It is coming sooner than you think!” I laughed as my legs burned with every stride I took. She had said that we will meet again. After all, possibility was the secret to everything, the ever question of…what if?” However, she was definitely right about one thing, I was a dead man and it was only a matter of time.

(12/08/1963)

The elevator door opened as the cart rattled underneath my hands. This was a job that I had never done before. Dressed in the bus boy uniform of The St. Regis in Mexico City, Mexico, Ron Reid’s words still fresh in my head, “do this for me Hakeem, do this and I’ll get you anything you desire.” Eighteen years old an already an international fugitive, “so this is where my life is…where it has come to.” The cart rattled louder as the elevator continued to ascend ever higher in the luxurious hotel. “Get’em Hakeem if you get him and I get the position, think about the rewards for me…for you!” That man Ron Reid was a bloated self-centered prick and as much as I wished to turn him into my slave he did provide me with treasures rare to come by. I felt my prisoner Mumbato curling tight around my arm. His taste for the thrill growing with every floor I slowly passed. The hardest part was going to be the escape, and if I completed my mission it would mean becoming a fugitive in yet another country.

My thoughts of my flight came to a halt as I had reached the top floor. Ron’s voice echoed once more, “think of the rewards Hakeem, for me…for you!” The cart rattled louder as the door opened. If the mission failed I was back to selling fake powders, stealing from dancers, conjuring fake spells, and telling fake fortunes. The truth to my power lie only within my very soul. I rattled my cart out the door. Maybe I would head to America? I heard rumors about how idiotic Americans were, maybe head to that city called New Orleans?” The floor was luxurious with oriental carpeting and chandeliers that hung like freshly polished diamonds in the sky. “Ho, ho, hold up there,” I had been stopped by a pudgy man with gray hair and looked tired of his job. “What’s your business up here boy?” I smirked with Mumbato whispering to me, “a racist.” “Yes I have room service for a Mr. Michael Diaz Ramirez.”

The man glared down at the cart as I straightened my stiff uniform missing my long black trench coat. I missed the advantage, the advantage of the many pockets. T he pockets that contained powders the world had never seen, powders that I never sold to anyone. As the guard pawed through the food, I noticed how foolish he was. He didn’t even check the bottom portion of the cart. The supplies that I needed all sat undetected by the massive brute. He was big, oh yes, but even he was in over his head. Little did he know that I possessed powers the world only whispered about. I had heard of my father creating powders whose chemical properties were still used and practiced in modern science. I have walked thousands of miles on this cursed earth and stopped to see every beauty the land provided. I am free from my prisons because of the “juice” the guards drank. This man before me was just another worthless human being. Power is an intense feeling, let it build and it leaves the world in a trance. I am the puppet master and only I pull the