Mermaid Pirate Dispatch

Guillermo slurped and hummed, shoveling another heap of mole into his mouth with a torn bit of tortilla. “Mmm,” he moaned, glancing up at me. “You sure you don’t want any?” Brown sauce dripped down the stubble on his double chin and his sing-songy Chilango accent immediately called to mind a much skinnier guy I once knew from a rough barrio in Mexico City.

I smiled from across my ancient wooden table, my thin lips barely rising at the corners. Lethargy was consuming every muscle in my body. “I’ll eat soon, after you retire to your bed.”

The candles on the table flickered in his eyes and he gulped down another pocket of rice dripping with the mole sauce. “This sure is some good mole,” he said almost laughing, smiling with his big round cheeks and shaking his head. “Much better than what I would have been served for my last meal back in Rincon.”

The Rincon Unit in Tucson had been a favorite pickup location of mine for the last few years. I watched him and grinned, giving him a subtle nod when he glanced up at me. The mole did smell nice, but my mouth was watering for something with a bit more body.

Guillermo stopped for a moment, his jaw slack with a mouth full of food, and he looked at me as though seeing me for the first time. His bushy eyebrows crouched over his deep eye sockets. He chewed a few more times and swallowed hard. “What did you say you needed me for?”

I cocked my head inquisitively. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“When you busted me out,” he said, sitting back in his leather padded high back chair. “You said you needed me for something.”

“Oh, right. I need you to do a job for me, but I need you healthy and strong first.”

Guillermo smiled big and flexed his biceps around his stout, soft chest, squeezing one to show how hard it was. “I’m in great shape already,” he said. “I spent a lot of time at the gym.” His grin was devious and full of malice.

I raised my eyebrows and nodded approvingly. I had assumed he was mostly fat, but it seemed there was plenty of muscle there as well. “Very good,” I said, trying not to drool. “Let’s fill your stomach and get you a good night’s rest and we can talk about the job in the morning.”

He held my gaze a moment longer, seeming to mull over some unspoken doubts. Eventually, content with my answer, he relaxed and returned to his meal. “This really is amazing mole,” he said. “Just like my abuelita used to make, maybe better.”

“Excellent,” I said. “And I hope you’ll find the bed upstairs to your satisfaction. It should be much more comfortable than that awful prison bed back in Tucson.” I adopted a pouty, sympathetic tone.

“I gotta say,” he said, a stray bit of refried beans flying off his lip, “you really did me a solid busting me out of death row like that.” He closed his eyes and shook his bowed head in amazement. “To think they were gonna off me just for havin’ a little fun.” That malicious grin returned and it gave me chills.

The only thing giving me solace was to know that I was going to do what the Arizona Department of Corrections could not, I was going to execute this man tonight. Ten years on death row for such heinous, brutal crimes, and he was having the time of his life in prison. This man’s evil streak would end tonight.

I smiled. “The world isn’t fair. Sometimes we have to bring justice into the world ourselves.”

Guillermo stopped eating and gazed at me, his mouth half open and his eyes wide. Then a massive smile spread on his unkempt face. The plate and cup rattled as he slapped his hands down hard on the table and sat back. “Exactly!” he cried, food spewing from his mouth. “That’s what I been tellin’ people for my whole life vato!” He laughed and rubbed his hands together. “I have a feeling we’re going to make a great team.”

“Your contributions to my cause will be substantial,” I said, my stomach rumbling at the thought of all that meat and blood.

We both smiled at each other and he prepared to polish off his plate while I licked my lips and swallowed.

“Let’s get you up to the bedchamber,” I suggested as he wiped the plate clean with a final torn bit of tortilla. I checked his glass. The sleeping pills had been dissolved in his horchata. “You going to finish the horchata?” I asked innocently.

“Oh, right,” he said. “Can’t forget that!” He picked up the glass and downed its contents in a single long pull.

I smiled. “Good. I’ll show you to your bed.”

[Reddit Post]