frantically. I don’t stop until I’m in the middle of the pool, then only do I turn back, expecting to see him close by.
To my surprise, he’s standing on the banks of the rock pool looking at me, breathing heavily. Behind him a group of villagers laugh and point at me.
I play an air guitar and start to sing. ‘I win! I win! I win! Yeah! Yeah!’
He glowers at me and waves his knife threateningly.
I’m confused as to why he isn’t trying to get me.
Then I hear jeers from some of the crowd. Something about Diablo being scared of water. So that was it - this brutal slayer, this nightmare of a monster feared by all, is scared of water ? How bizarre is that?
‘What Diablo, you scared of water , eh? You fucking baboon! Yes, you’re a monkey.’ I tap the top of my head. ‘Hee hee hoo hoo!’
Diablo inhales and exhales deeply.
‘You wear clothes and you walk upright, but that is the extent of your evolution – you’re still a fucking baboon. Get it? A baboon that allows men to do drugs in his home. You’re nothing but a pathetic murderer. You kill women - how tough does that make you, huh? What about children? You kill them too? Huh? I wouldn’t be surprised, ’cos you’re such a fucking coward!’
Nobody is laughing now. Not outwardly, anyway
Two of the men, start wading into the water to get to me, but Diablo stops them.
Someone hands him a lit cigarette and he puffs away, never taking his eyes off me.
The crowd hums with disbelief and excitment.
‘ Usted es un pesimo laicos, Diablo. How’s my Spanish, El Bastido?’ I ask proudly. ‘I learned that from a Spanish Dictionary of Dirty Words I brought in LA. Means you’re a lousy lay. Funny eh?’
‘Two minutes then it’s all over. Two minutes, then it’s finito!’
His drags on his cigarette are longer now.
‘You should stick to her,’ I say, pointing at Santana. ‘She thinks you’re great. She’ll always tell you how fabulousa you are in bed and how you’re the greatest lover she’s ever had in her whole life. You like that, right? Egotistical bastard!’
Santana is fuming. ‘Shoot her Diablo,’ she hisses, circling him. ‘ Pegarle un tiro !’
‘Me? I’ve had better,’ I jeer. ‘Ten times over. My boyfriends were soooo much better than you, El Monstero . You just take what you want, you fucking low-life. As for killing me – whose gonna kill me? You? You shot me and still you couldn’t kill me?’
I look at the crowd. ‘Eh, how do you say “you’re a lousy shot” in Spanish? Anybody ...?’
Of course, none of the fuckers have my balls right now, which emanates from the copious amounts of alcohol I consumed.
‘You killed me because I was a spy? What spy? Some intelligence you have there.’
To my utter amazement, he smiles. For a moment, I’m not sure if I’m imagining it. But upon closer examination, by way of an intense stare on my part, I see that he is indeed smiling - an undisguised, genuinely amused smile.
He looks at the others. They appeared to be just as surprised to see him smile and they too smile. Some of them chuckle. A few of them even laugh. But not Santana and Christa. They are not smiling.
‘What d’ya want me here for, Diablo?’ I ask, feeling a little tired by now. ‘I don’t fit in here and I’m like, so not impressed by you or your crew or your tequila or your Ponderosa. Okay, maybe your tequila. I’m never gonna like, marry you and be your wife and have your children. Lord no! I have plans for myself. I gonna like, fight bad guys one day.’
He raises his eyebrows.
‘Keep her instead of me.’ I say and point again at Santana. ‘She’s mucho impresso with you and your ... your ability to burn down a village of defenceless old men and women and children with the strike of just one matchstick.’
He glances at Santana as if seeing her for the first time.
Santana’s smirk disappears. ‘What? Don’t listen to her, Diablo.’
‘The only time you will ever get anything out of
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