The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya
The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya
The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya 10instantly, Jose could see both the spirit in its original position and the body as it fell to the ground, likea model's robe being dropped for an artist. A few of the spirits thus unencumbered of their bodieslooked around confusedly, seemingly unable to piece together what had just happened. Most, however,did not take long to notice their ruined selves lying on the ground, and with a shrug they simply beganto walk off across the desert.More Villista horses and riders were charging up to join the battle. Having seen the devastationwreaked upon the first line, this second wave was charging a little less enthusiastically than the first.They also were at least trying to shoot out the searchlights, even though they did not seem to be havingmuch success at it. Just behind them, federalista artillery shells had now begun to raise a curtain ofdust, flame, smoke and shrapnel. Villistas either retreating from the fight or trying to join it wouldneed to pass through this fire.Jose was watching this bombardment closely and trying to figure out if it was close to where hisbody was still lying. His attention seemed to be fixed on one particular area of dense, swirling blacksmoke. He tried to look away from it. He could not.She stepped out of the smoke directly where Jose was looking. She was as elegantly dressed asany lady Jose had ever seen. On her head was a large white hat that was almost completely hidden byall of the ostrich and peacock feathers that were stuck into it. Her dress was a red satin sheath that wentall the way down to her feet, curving in and out where it was appropriate for a woman's dress to curve;to Jose, it looked like someone had formed a giant bud vase out of satin and stuck her in it. Her elbowlengthgloves were likewise red satin. In her right hand she was folding and unfolding a fan over andover again. Her body was nothing more than bones, the head under her hat a grinning skull. This wasLa Catrina, the fancy lady herself. This was Death.Jose wasn't frightened. This was El Dia de Los Muertos, after all. La Catrina was not onlyexpected, she was celebrated throughout the country in statues made from skulls and in skulls made
The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya 11from sugar. And what more natural place to run into her than here, in the middle of a battlefield? Farfrom being scared, Jose actually felt himself mildly aroused at her presence. Her movements andgestures were both sensual and hypnotic: The graceful way she seemed to float over the desert. Theflirtatious folding and unfolding of her fan.She was moving at a speed that was normal to Jose's perceptions, instead of the slow-timewhich seemed to affect everything else. She wound in and around the soldiers, looking each one overfrom head to toe, still folding and unfolding her fan. She even seemed to be stopping and smellingsome of them, inhaling deeply like they were roses that just happened to be wearing pointed sombreros.Every so often she would take her fan and rap a soldier smartly on the shoulders a few times, as if shewere trying to get their attention.It did not take her long to circulate to Jose. She looked at him, and at once she snapped openher fan and raised it to her face in what was almost a coy gesture. Jose blushed and stood very still,even though he felt as if he should be bowing or genuflecting. Her open eye sockets slowly roved upand down his body from behind her fan, returning at last to his face. She cocked her head to the side,and the feathers on her hat gently waved up and down. She continued to hide her face behind her fan.The blackness of her eye sockets was tangible. Jose thought that instead of the black of night, or ofnothingness, it was really more like two puddles of ink. It was a beautiful blackness.He wanted desperately to tell her he loved her, but he couldn't move his mouth at all. Hewanted fiercely to grab her and take her right there in the dirt and carnage, but found that he could notmove a single muscle. He was aware of his paralysis. He was aware of his growing erection. Andthen he was aware of her fan as she raised it high above her hat and brought it arcing down toward hisskull.In the brief moment before the fan struck him he was able to stare her fully in the face. She wasbeautiful, La Catrina. It was no wonder they made candy skulls out of sugar. The candy makers had
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<strong>The</strong> <strong>Long</strong> <strong>and</strong> <strong>Storied</strong> <strong>Life</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>Jose</strong> <strong>Montoya</strong> 11from sugar. And what more natural place to run into her than here, in the middle <strong>of</strong> a battlefield? Farfrom being scared, <strong>Jose</strong> actually felt himself mildly aroused at her presence. Her movements <strong>and</strong>gestures were both sensual <strong>and</strong> hypnotic: <strong>The</strong> graceful way she seemed to float over the desert. <strong>The</strong>flirtatious folding <strong>and</strong> unfolding <strong>of</strong> her fan.She was moving at a speed that was normal to <strong>Jose</strong>'s perceptions, instead <strong>of</strong> the slow-timewhich seemed to affect everything else. She wound in <strong>and</strong> around the soldiers, looking each one overfrom head to toe, still folding <strong>and</strong> unfolding her fan. She even seemed to be stopping <strong>and</strong> smellingsome <strong>of</strong> them, inhaling deeply like they were roses that just happened to be wearing pointed sombreros.Every so <strong>of</strong>ten she would take her fan <strong>and</strong> rap a soldier smartly on the shoulders a few times, as if shewere trying to get their attention.It did not take her long to circulate to <strong>Jose</strong>. She looked at him, <strong>and</strong> at once she snapped openher fan <strong>and</strong> raised it to her face in what was almost a coy gesture. <strong>Jose</strong> blushed <strong>and</strong> stood very still,even though he felt as if he should be bowing or genuflecting. Her open eye sockets slowly roved up<strong>and</strong> down his body from behind her fan, returning at last to his face. She cocked her head to the side,<strong>and</strong> the feathers on her hat gently waved up <strong>and</strong> down. She continued to hide her face behind her fan.<strong>The</strong> blackness <strong>of</strong> her eye sockets was tangible. <strong>Jose</strong> thought that instead <strong>of</strong> the black <strong>of</strong> night, or <strong>of</strong>nothingness, it was really more like two puddles <strong>of</strong> ink. It was a beautiful blackness.He wanted desperately to tell her he loved her, but he couldn't move his mouth at all. Hewanted fiercely to grab her <strong>and</strong> take her right there in the dirt <strong>and</strong> carnage, but found that he could notmove a single muscle. He was aware <strong>of</strong> his paralysis. He was aware <strong>of</strong> his growing erection. Andthen he was aware <strong>of</strong> her fan as she raised it high above her hat <strong>and</strong> brought it arcing down toward hisskull.In the brief moment before the fan struck him he was able to stare her fully in the face. She wasbeautiful, La Catrina. It was no wonder they made c<strong>and</strong>y skulls out <strong>of</strong> sugar. <strong>The</strong> c<strong>and</strong>y makers had
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