DAY FIVE- LYNCH-To the heart of the matter
'Nought loves another as itself,
Nor venerates another so,
Nor is it possible to thought
A greater than itself to know.
“A Little Boy Lost†by William Blake
Man it's a hot one
Like seven inches from the midday sun
I hear you whisper and the words melt everyone
But you stay so cool
“Smooth†by Santana
Nor venerates another so,
Nor is it possible to thought
A greater than itself to know.
“A Little Boy Lost†by William Blake
Man it's a hot one
Like seven inches from the midday sun
I hear you whisper and the words melt everyone
But you stay so cool
“Smooth†by Santana
The group was preparing for a long drive without much civilization. They had stopped at a small town and were gathering up all the non spoiled supplies they could find. All of them, that was, except for one Latin Lover who felt that his good looks were too precious to jeopardize with menial labor.
A shirtless Estaban leaned against a tree waving and smiling at the few women left in the caravan as they loaded down the cars with canned goods, bottled water, batteries, first aid kits and any other items that needed to be restocked. He was doing them all a favor by providing motivation. 'You work hard now and this magnificence will be your night time reward.' Truly, it was a most generous offer.
Eventually he leaned his head back for a small siesta and dozed off while the others finished up their preparations. He was rudely awakened by hands grabbing him around the ankles and dragging him through the dust.
“Ay! Joo will be getting mah hair all dirty!â€Â
The single minded group ignored Estaban's complaints. Sulking in silence at this lack of respect, he paid more attention to keeping his glorious skin intact than to his captors. They did not have far to drag him and soon they were stopped at the nearest telephone pole. Roughly pulling the 'Spaniard' to his feet, the group pushed him against the rough wood. One of their number secured his hands around the back of the pole, using more force than Estaban thought was strictly necessary. Jealousy was -such- an ugly emotion.
Another handed out rifles to the member of the pack and now they all trained them carefully on their victim. One of the group made a staying motion with their hand and called out to the model.
“Head or chest? You decide.â€Â
Estaban shook his thick mane of normally glossy hair out of his eyes and stood straighter, puffing his chest with dignity.
“If joo must do thees then shoot me in my broken heart.â€Â
He gave them all a look of profound sadness and disbelief with his large brown puppy dog eyes. It was to no avail; the group fired their rifles. They buried the man in the shallow grave that they had dug while he slept. Someone found a piece of wood and made a quick sign to mark his final resting place. It read.
Here lies Estaban, a once great lover of womens.
****************************
Matthew smiled happily as he got into his car. They were headed east again towards Eureka along Highway 50. It was called “the Lonliest Road in America†but that did not bother him. His prayers had been answered and things were looking up. He still had to argue with Vera to get the direction settled but eventually he was heard. The two leaders of the group were up ahead of the rest moving the first of hopefully not many obstructions out of the way. He hummed to himself while they worked. Outside of town the roads should be fairly empty and that meant they could make good time.
He felt a renewed amount of hope that at least some of them might live through this experience. Soon they might join those that the dreams of Mother Abigail promised were gathering in Boulder. They were coming, slowly but surely.