> The Mangohead Chronicles: Mangohead and the Zaboca Thief S01E10

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Mangohead and the Zaboca Thief S01E10


Now, The penultimate chapter in Mangohead's first adventure!

"Allyuh waking?" Mangohead called inside as Two and Four walked out, Four still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"Yeah, we here," Two replied. "Yuh ketch him?"
"Nah, he run in de bush," Mangohead responded. "Lewwe go get him."
"We?" Two asked suspisciously. "You French or what?"
"Look," Mangohead said roughly as he rounded on his friend, "if we doh do something to ketch this thief, he going to terrorize we until it ent have no more zaboca in the tree."
"Ammm," Four said slowly, "I doh think it have any more zaboca in the tree anyway?"
Mangohead sighed. "Look, do this for me nah, help me ketch this thief so we could find out who it is and what they doing with the zaboca."
"Well that obvious," Two said as he scracthed his head. "They eating the zaboca."
"So that mean allyuh go help me?" Mangohead pleaded.
Two rolled his eyes. "Alright ehh Mangohead, but yuh owe me one for this and I go come to collect one ah these days so you better be ready for it. What you want we to do?"
"Arrite," Mangohead said as he outlined his plan tot he youths. Quickly they set off into the night as he cautiously prepared to re-enter the dark forest.
The leaves of the forest gave off a thick, strong scent that seemed to rise when the sun went down. As Mangohead made his way slowly through the undergrowth, he could hear the crickets and cicadas calling out into the night. The light from the moon was bright but at the edge of the treeline he could see nothing but darkness. Steeling his resolve, he ploughed deeper into the shadow that outlined the forest.
It was at times like these that Mangohead considered the elders of long past times had good inspiration to forge the supersitious ideas of the socouyant, the flying ball of fire that would suck blood then return to its skin in the daytime and pretend to be a human during the day. Local folklore also presented monsters like La Diablesse, a beautiful woman walking the road at night, hoping to lure unsuspecting menfolk to het lips so she could suck the souls out of them. A shiver ran down Manoghead's spine as he walked deeper into the dark treeline.
He hadn't gone much further before a loud report rang out into the night. Mangohead saw a flash of light and heard someone cry out, a decidedly female voice. He started moving towards the sound of the anguished cries for help. The voice was Anita's. He hurried, not caring for where the trees lashed at him and the vines hindered his progress as he pushed past brambles, ignorng the scrapes, some so deep they drew blood.
"I'm coming!" Mangohead shouted. "Hold on!"
"Come quickly!" Anita’s anguished voice responded. "Help me! I don't know where it is, but it shot me!"
Mangohead pushed past the last line of briars slowing his progress and entered a small clearing. Along the edges of the clearing were bottles and rusty barbed wire meant to keep people out. The last "briar patch" he had pressed through was actually a completely rusted portion of barbed wire. The welts on his arms from pushing past and breaking through the wire were bleeding freely now, but he didn't care. Anita needed his help.
"You okay?" Mangohead asked.
"No, someone shot me!" Anita cried. He flashed his light down to her leg. The shot had mostly missed, but her leg was bloody. Some of the pellets had still hit her in the calf and the thigh and she was losing blood quickly.
Without stopping to think, he dragged out a bit of witch-vine that was hanging nearby and used it to make a temporary tourniquet. He had to stanch the bleed before she went into shock, that much he knew.
"TWO!" he screamed into the night. "TWO!"
"Mangohead?" came the shouted answer back from what sounded like a long way away. "What happen? You okay?"
"Call the ambulance! And hurry!" Mangohead pulled tighter on the tourniquet and felt Anita slip her arms around his neck, helping herself up.
"I going to call them now!" Two's voice came back as Mangohead heard the crashing of vegetation in the distance. Now all he could do was wait.
He turned his attention back to the bleeding angel he held in his arms. "What you doing out here?" he asked her.
"I heard you were going to wait for the thief and after what happened earlier I felt as though I should help you, so I was waiting out here when someone bushed past me and then I felt the gnshot wound and fell. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Her tears soaked into the crook of his neck as he cradled her.
"You see who it was?" Mangohead asked.
"No," Anita sniffed. "It all happened so fast..."
"Don't worry, you're going to be alright," Mangohead said, hoping he wasn't lying to her about what would happen. Time passed slowly, as though an eternity hung between them, Mangohead keeping the tourniquet drawn tight and Anita sobbing softly into his bloody clothes.
The loud siren of the ambulance was unmistakable as it pulled up at the road. He could hear the hustling of EMT's and Two shouting out to them to follow him. The Cavalry had arrived, finally.
Before too long the beams of the EMT's lights shone on the bloody scene, and one of them took Anita's limp form from Mangohead as he sat there, covered in the blood of the girl he cared for. Whoever this person was, they were going to pay. The high-intensity headlights of the EMT's illuminated the clearing pretty well, and from what he could see of the place, it looked as though at the end of the clearing was the beginning of a marijuana field.
In earlier days, Biche and environs were considered the height of the marijuana sources within the country. It was rumoured around the Caribbean that Trinidadian weed was the best weed one could get and the best of Trinidadian weed was to be harvested from Biche. The trade had spread; since San Marcos was shrouded in forest, it made sense that growers would seek out these spots as the places to locate their illegal crops. Mangohead had heard of a time at the early stages of San Marcos’ life when weed growers had come to the village in numbers to look for the best place to locate their new investments. The villagers chased them out and the village hadn't seen hide nor hair of a weed grower in so many years.
In the harsh flourescents, he could make out the swaying leaves outlined with shadow towards the far end of the clearing, blending in well with the forest. He knew what marijuana trees looked like of course; they had educated him in school about the dangers of drugs, and how to spot weed plants. His mind started buzzing. A weed grower probably coming down to start up a plantation ddn't have a whole lot of resources. Stealing zabocas for dinner was probably something right up their alley. As he thought about it, he started to narrow down people who could possibly have a weed field situated there. There weren't a lot of people who frequented the forest in this direction. This field was off the beaten path, meaning that the owner would probably have to know San Marcos' forest pretty well.
"Mangohead," Two pushed his shoulder. "You arrite star?"
"Yeah," Mangohead said in a small voice. "Two, you still out to help me ketch this thief."
Two nodded. "Only one thing tho," he started with a grimmace. "Four say he not getting involved in this thing anymore. He never want to get nobody hurt and now Anita get damage. So is just two ah we now."
Mangohead nodded. "That's fine," he said as he raised himself off the bloody ground, the sticky feeling of Anita's blood clinging to his skin as he started walking back to the house. "Ah have ah plan that gonna end this whole worries."
In the darkness, an owl hooted morosely, and Mangohead wondered if it was a portent of things yet to come.

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