FIRST EPISODE
LAST EPISODE
Now, The penultimate chapter in Mangohead's first adventure!
LAST EPISODE
Now, The penultimate chapter in Mangohead's first adventure!
MANGOHEAD 10
"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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