Whew! You’ve already made it through the introductions part.
Now you’re getting ready to go to the job you’ve been assigned to do. You must go to the vegetable garden / the cornfield / the machine shop / the lumber yard / the kitchen / the canteen / the fledgling auditorium / the community school / etcetera / etcetera / did I say etcetera?
You mentally prepare yourself, inhale and exhale (although it feels more like sighing). You are about to ask where the hell the place is, when a young girl (you estimate she must be between 19 and 20 years old), approaches you and greets you.
Smiling, she introduces herself: “My name is Defensa my last name is ‘Zapatista’, what’s your name?” You hesitate before giving your name, and regret not having been able to choose your name with something so suggestive.
She keeps smiling and says, “I’m going to accompany you to where you’re supposed to be. I’m going to make sure nothing bad happens to you.”
You are puzzled: “Nothing bad? Like what?”
The girl: “Well, all of a sudden there’s a tick, a mosquito, a snake, a scorpion or a spider. The other day the captain was bitten by a spider called “fiddler.” The spider is a fiddler, not the captain. That one doesn’t even knock on doors, much less play the violin.”
You swallow saliva. The girl, taking you by the hand and leading you to the place: “I am going to teach you what you need and I am going to take care of you.” She continues: “We know you are worthwhile and we have to take care of you. In the community, even before everything that happened, we already knew and understood that people like you are important for tomorrow.”
You feel your heart go all squishy and you get a little something in your eye, but you try to remain equanimous. As your guardian often says, “Nothing but nothing, if not resistance and rebellion.”
As you walk through a clearing, a sound of fluttering birds is heard. Of course, you think it’s a slither of snakes, scorpions and spiders. You remain motionless. The young girl laughs and explains:
“It’s the bird we call “Juanchío”, because that’s what it does when it sings: “juanchío, juanchío.” That means his heart is happy. Look at him, he is black. We love and take care of this bird, because he almost always travels in a group. With several of them. And when he sees danger, he warns. He goes “pit, pit, pit.” But since there are several of them, they make a big noise. And they get louder and louder and they join more and more, and they point out with their noise where the threat is, depending if it is a snake or a wild cat. In other words, they point out to you where the danger is.”
You gulp again and ask “Is there also a wildcat?”.
“Yes,” she replies, ‘I think you call it ’tigrillo’. It’s smaller than the puma.”
“P… p… p… puma?!, you stammer and, inwardly, curse the system, the storm and the day after.
She continues: “It also warns the smaller animals when the sparrow hawk or the eagle or the snake is around. Collectively they take turns pecking the bad guy, so that the little ones have time to protect themselves.
Your skin is already pale white when you ask, “And now, is it snake or bobcat or mountain lion?”
“Neither,” she says with a laugh. “It’s just love. Two of them are falling in love, the male and the female, and they make a lot of noise and even float in the air to show that they are very handsome.”
You must still be trembling, because the young lady clarifies: “But don’t worry, they also fight and scold each other. They love each other after all.”
-*-
Later, in the dining room, they instinctively sit together, those who had as a curse, and now as a blessing, the arts and sciences. Everyone begins to tell how their first day as part of what they call “the community” went.
When it is your turn and you begin with the name of your guardian, someone else remembers that yours is called “Esperanza Zapatista” (Zapatista Hope). And he adds: “and hope, in these times, is always appreciated.”
Someone from applied sciences interrupts them: “You were lucky. My guardian introduced herself with the not at all reassuring name of “the Zapatista Calamity.” I don’t know, but I don’t feel reassured. I have a feeling that something bad might happen.
The laughter echoes in the dilapidated dining room, which, at the entrance and to name it, has a sign that decrees: “At least when it comes to food, not a single step backwards (if it’s time to bathe, you better think about it).
-*-
The P.S. THAT INTERRUPTS AND WHERE THE CAPTAIN CLEARS THAT YES BUT NO (the mysterious case of the lost violin). – Yes, I was bitten by a so-called “violinist” spider. I did what any straight, educated, well-informed male would do. That is to say, I took one of those little electric boxes (which used to be available in parks, town fairs, carnivals and canteens -and I don’t know if they still exist-), and I self-administered a shock to the top of my head. 120 volts that surpassed any strong black coffee.
I waited patiently but no. My legendary clumsiness, weathered from decades of conscious practice, continued. I tried to see if I could climb the walls, but the dogs all just looked at me and, thinking it was a trendy dance for TikTok, tried to mimic the moves. Summary: I was not transformed. I will have to remain a superhero without superpowers. Mind you, the spider was poisoned to death. Huh? Do you think I should be worried? I think the voltage was off… Moral of the story: don’t believe Peter Parker1. If you see a spider, don’t panic. Just run for your life.
-*-
Soon after, the one who introduced himself as “Supreme Chief of Health Prevention, Vaccination, Wash your Hands, Necropsies and Appendices, Death Certificates and so on” arrived. Do I need to tell you that the guy looked remarkably like a beetle?
He entered the champa, scanned the room with a quick glance and said, “I’m here to see the victim.” Although wary of the “chief etcetera” look, I rolled up my shirt sleeves and waited for him to put on the blood pressure cuff. He: “Not you. I said the victim, meaning the spider.” Puzzled, I pointed to the corner where the corpse of the now martyr lay. The beetle approached in a medical gown and analyzed it in detail. When he was satisfied, he declared, “There is no doubt, she died from an overdose of nicotine.” Then, inquisitive, he added: “Do you smoke a lot?” Me: “sometimes, a little, very occasionally, although always yes a little quite a lot.” “Uh-huh,” said the coroner. “I’m afraid my big-nosed friend that you have committed a crime. Two offenses, to be more precise.” “Me? Why? She started it first because she stung me without even warning.” The fellow took out a little notebook from who knows where and, writing in it, added: “Manslaughter by transfusion in perverse degree. Uh, that’s
serious, you’re in trouble.” I tried to protest: “But Durito…” He: “No Durito, you must address me as ‘your Eminence’ and the other crime is… mh… mh… theft of artistic instrument!” I was puzzled: “But I didn’t steal anything!”. The arthropod prosecutor: “Isn’t that a fiddler spider?” “Yes’, that’s what they call them,” I faltered. “Ergo, where’s the violin?”
-*-
I looked everywhere for the violin and nothing. I was thinking that maybe I would need a lawyer, when the same character appeared, but now in a cap and gown. He enters with a ceremonious step and hands me a card that reads “Despacho Legal Duro pero Tupido (Rough but Tough Law Firm),” president, main shareholder and only member: Don Durito, prosecutor, judge, lawyer and executioner of lost causes. We have home service with digital application -the Premium service includes discounts on the stay in “The dreaded hell of all”. Low rates. Euros, Canadian dollars and yuan only.”
I think I’m lost… Send tobacco, razaaaa! Haiga cosa, oiga.
Moral 2. – Don’t smoke. Besides endangering your health, you risk your freedom.
From the roof of the champa, preparing my best jump into the void.
The Captain
November of 2024.
Footnotes
- Marvel Comics character who becomes Spider-Man