Hey courageous creators,

No, this new blog post does not mean Courage 2 Create is returning. Sorry. Sad face. But it does mean I am posting a new short story that has never seen the light of day!

It’s been a rough two years, and as I write this we are still in recovery from the worst pandemic in over a century. But we are finally seeing the light! Yay!

Seeing as we all have had it rough, thought I’d lift your spirits this holiday season with some new fiction, written by me! Yes.

I thought it would be a nice gift to offer you guys this short story like in the good old days. (Remember the good old days?)

Sending you and yours much love and joy this holiday season.

Enjoy.

Ollin Morales

SUBTERFUGE

A new short story by Ollin Morales

PART I

¨Gitano!¨

A tall, lanky man with a top hat and curly mustache winked at the Panadería man.

“Hola Sergio!” He shouted back. “Buen día hermano! Hola, Irma how nice to see you today. Looking lovely as always.”

The Gitano bowed and kissed the hand of the Panaderia mans wife.

“You coming to see the show?”

“Who us? No, Gustavo. We don’t have the time.”

“Pues, make time! I’m getting older!”

Gustavo slapped his thigh.

“Bad hip. Who knows how much longer I have,” he said.

“It seems to me you’ll live forever, hermano,” the panaderia man said.

“I’m no immortal, Sergio. Do you have my order for the shows after party?”

“Si, Gustavo. Un pastel de tres leches and a hundred pan dulces.”

“Yes, thank you. Hope you change your minds about the show. Adios!”

The Gitano tipped his top hat and walked down the cobblestone street waving at the crowd as they gathered near the circus tent. As he approached the tent, Gustavo placed a soft blue rose on his jacket collar and fastened it with a pin. He polished his cane that was topped with the bust of Hidalgo, and massaged his knuckles. One fist was tattooed with the name “Zapata” and the other fist with the name “Villa.” He adjusted his earring in a pocket mirror he carried with him and fixed his mascara. Then, finally, he wiped his hands across his tuxedo jacket and gestured to the crowd who were eagerly waiting in line to enter the tent.

“We have some new performers, gente,” Gustavo said. “You will love them. Did you buy your churros eh? Only one peso! And some popcorn as well for one peso, come on now damas y caballeros, animo!”

The Gitano laughed and mimed a bit of wine drinking.

¨Don’t drink too much before the show,” he chuckled. “Ok, I want your eyes open and paying attention for the final act. You know me always trying to trick you. Pay close attention. It’s all smoke and mirrors. But isn’t it lovely to be tricked and played? Quite the thrill!”

Just as he was about to enter the tent, Gustavo caught the eye of a pale, thin man in cassocks who was staring at him.

“Oh Padre Gregorio!” He exclaimed.

¨Gustavo, como estas?” The father said, coughing into a handkerchief before he reached out to shake Gustavos hand.

¨Efraim you’re looking very thin today,” Gustavo whispered to the clergyman, offering him up a knowing glance. “Have you eaten or are you on one of your famous fasts to protest El Presidente again?”

The pale, thin priest looked warily at the gitano.

“Neither, I’m afraid,” said the holy man. “I don’t think I can remember to eat these days. It’s such a sad, depressing time.”

“Well never mind the rebellion today, padre, just try to have some fun! This is neutral territory remember?” (The Gitano pointed his cane at the circus tent. “All believers and non believers are welcome!”

Father Gregorio nodded.

¨Nothing too scandalous I hope,” said the Father pointing to the night sky which was dotted with sparkling stars that seemed to be eagerly awaiting the show themselves.

“He’s watching.”

The Gitano strained a smile.

¨Well of course, padre nuestro, que esta….¨ Gustavo mumbled the rest and awakardly stepped behind the curtain that led directly to the backstage area.

“Break a leg!” Father Gregorio was heard shouting from the other side of the curtain.

“Gracias, padre!”

On the other side of the curtain there was a bustling and murmer of laughter and chisme. There were two men in burgundy outfits practicing their flame throwing. Women in yellow, honeydew Mellon green, and fuscia were rehearsing their dance choreography. A man in a mango orange dress and a blonde wig wearing white heels was practicing his tight rope walking.

“Benjamin!” The Gitano shouted at the man in the dress. “Vente.”

Gustavo gestured for the man to come over.

There were the Ramirez twins, in stunning pink tutus, working their flute and tambourine. Mario and Gordito in gold suspenders were chucking knives at one another, hoping not to miss, but missing anyway. (At that very moment, in fact, Mario started bleeding from the ear and Gordito ran to console him.)

¨Chavalos, hows everyone doing?” Gustavo asked the group.

¨Bueno jefe!¨the ensemble replied.

¨Great!” Gustavo said. “Remember: smile, gesture gracefullly, don’t give away all the hidden secrets and surprises, the twists and turns, you know how the audience loves to be shocked and awed. They don’t like to see it coming. A performer has to be ten steps ahead of his audience. LET THEM BELIEVE THEY ARE SMARTER THAN YOU, then pull the rug out from underneath them in the last moment. Ha-Ha! That’s how they like it! Don’t they love to be tricked by Gustavo. What masochists! Le gustan la mala vida! Oh and one last thing: pretend I pay you more than slave wages. Come, hermanos and hermanas, lets give them a good show!!!!

The ensemble laughed and clapped and then quickly went back to rehearsing.

Meanwhile, Mariela in her black turtleneck sweater and stark black tutu glided over to where Gustavo was standing. She carried her clipboard in hand, as she always did. Her tortoise shell glasses hung precariously on her forehead. Meanwhile, the man in the dress had walked up right beside her and waited patiently to be addressed by the gitano.

¨Jefe, it looks like the military is here again, in the front row,” Mariela informed Gustavo.

¨MMMmmm hijo de la chingada…” Gustavo grumbled.

The Gitano adjusted three awkwardly slanted mirrors near his desk and used them to help him readjust his moth-eaten top hat.

¨Those soldiers never laugh at my jokes,” he grumbled. “What’s wrong with them? Shouldn’t they be happy: they’re winning!¨

“Well for that reason we’ve put the monjitas and the priests in the back, in the balcony seats, so as not to cause a stir, jefe.”

“Well it’s never them who make the first move you know.”

“Well I know you don’t like taking sides in all this, Jefe, but we have to protect those who are unarmed.”

“Unarmed? Why has every play and circus in this city become a battle zone? Why can’t we all take a break—have a place where we all can sit down relax and drink a cold cerveza in peace! Dios mío!”

Gustavo tossed his hands in the air in frustration.

“Gustavo.”

“Yes my love.”

The man in the dress had crossed over Mariela and kissed Gustavo on the lips.

“Sorry, mi amorcito, but I am tired of waiting. What do you want me for?”

Mariela blushed.

“Gentlemen there are men of god present,” she pleaded.

Both men turned to Mariela.

¨Where? I don’t see them?”

“They are in the audience.”

“They are not backstage, Mariela.”

“But one of them could sneak in and catch you two.”

“Catch me and Benjamin kissing?” Gustavo asked. “Ay no! What would we do?”

He hugged Benjamin tight and kissed him passionately. Then he feigned as if a mighty fire had engulfed them both.

“Aiiiiiii!!!! Fuego fuego fuego!!!! Hot hot hot! Caliente cliente!”

Gustavo started skipping to and fro and Benjamin doubled over laughing.

“Oh please its not like I haven’t seduced a priest or two before, Mariela,” Benjamin remarked.

He turned to the mirror as well and began brushing his long beautiful hair. Benjamin winked and blew a kiss at Mariela. She was looking absolutely appalled. Benjamin pointed to Gustavo.

“And you too, of course, Gustavo,” he said.

“Shhhh!!!!” Gustavo placed his finger on Bejamins lips.

“Oh she’s in a mood,” Mariela said exasperated.

Benjamin pulled Gustavo’s finger away from his lips then quickly pulled out a tube of lipstick. As he fixed his make up in the mirrors, he spoke.

“Listen Gustavo, lets get to business: the show is almost starting, love. I’m guessing you called me over to ask me about the costumes. I’ve fixed the ones you told me to fix and looks like they should hold for the night, guapo. But we need a bigger budget, amorcito, to buy new ones. Que te pasa?”

Gustavo fell back onto his office chair and his top hat plopped to the side.

¨HA! A bigger budget. Can you please Benny, my love, tell me how on earth am I to find more money in these conditions. We are at the brink of civil war, our President is picking fights with the Pope, and Mexicans are as cheap as they´ve ever been. The entire state of Guanajuato is living paycheck to paycheck and you want me to—what was that—find more money in the BUDGET!!!”

“The people are moody too,” Mariela said, writing on her clipboard. “I have never seen such a dark haze envelop Guanajuato. It’s as if something sinister is going to happen. I can feel it in my bones. I need to add a candle to St. Michael to my altar tonight. I have just been feeling strange creepy feelings all night. Like black talons across my skin. The tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife!”

“Oh, please, Mariela you were born with a ‘dark haze’ around you ever since the moment of your birth. That’s why I call her Franksteins wife.”

Gustavo winked at Benjamin. Benjamin laughed.

“It reminds me of the revolution,” Mariela added, staring straight through the opening in the curtain where you she could see the audience seated in the rafters, eagerly awaiting the show. “But there’s something more foreboding about it. Back then we were fighting the biggest villain in all of Mexican history. Porfirio: the big bad dictador. The Dictator to end all dictators. He was a man, though. An old, ugly decrepit man, but today we… the gente are fighting an idea.”

“No, they’re not. They’re still fighting a president.” Benny said.

¨No, Benjamin, they are fighting an idea. President Calles is the first of many, I can feel it. My skin crawls when I say his name. Even when I whisper it. Even when I think it. There is no President more dangerous than he, because he is not him. You know what I mean. He’s an idea. And a man may be killed but an idea never dies. There will be no more catholic presidents after him. Mark my words, Gustavo: this country’s going to hell and the diablo.”

The three of them were silent. Memo, the tiger trainer, was heard nearby whistling a tune.

¨Wait to go, Mariela,” Gustavo said, breaking the silence. “How beautiful to bum us out right when we are about to perform. There goes my theater boner! Why don’t you go check on your husband Frankenstein? I hear he found his missing brain!”

Mariela shook her head and walked away. Benjamin took his leave as well. Just then the twins, both of whom were giggling, came up to the gitano.

¨There is someone here to see you jefe,” They winked. “He wants to talk with you in private.”

A scrawny man with deep eye sockets emerged.

“Efraim—digo—Father Gregorio, what are you doing here? I thought I said to go right into the—”

“I could not—“ the fathers words were interrupted by a sneeze. “I could not help but notice, Gustavo, that the military…”

“Salud—”

“The military is in the front row.”

“Yes, yes, I know Efraim.”

Father Gregorio looked stunned.

“We feel like The President is standing right in the room,” he said.

“Well ese viejo cabron is not here I assure you.”

“Well in any case, I don’t think I or the sisters can stay the whole show. We have much work to do and with the military being here as well… well its, unpalpable.”

“Unpalpable?”

Gustavo stared into the fathers eyes, searchingly.

“What work do you have, Efraim? You need to pray another Hail Mary? Come on padre: it’s a great show. We’ve been working really hard on it….”

“I know, and I am sorry, but… I’m also feeling a little under the weather unfortunately.”

“I see.”

Efraim glanced around and abruptly shoved Gustavo behind the mirrors so they would be obscured from view of the rest of the group. The father then greedily took Gustavo’s hand and kissed it.

“All I can think of is you,” he whispered, longingly.

Gustavo put his hand away.

“This is not a good place.”

“I want to feel your lips again.”

Gustavo smirked.

“Ah, you’ve tasted forbidden fruit and now you can’t have enough?”

Efraim passionately kissed Gustavo. Efraim stared at Gustavo with deep, hungry eyes

“I don’t understand,” the priest said. “When I was a boy I would kiss girls, but I felt nothing. I never understood why all the boys were so obsessed with the girls when I was in school. They never interested me, and that’s why I always thought I was meant for the priesthood. I was meant to be a man of God. A holy man. Maybe, I thought, I had no desire for women because my lust, my sacred desire, was only reserved for The Lord. But I have never known desire, I never understood it until… I kissed you. And I knew what a kiss was. I embraced you, and I knew what an embrace was, and I held your warm hand, I held that hand, I held it so tight, like a starving wolf latches his tooth onto a steak, and for the first time I knew what love was. I understood desire. I understood why it drove all the boys crazy. Because now I was crazy. I was crazy for a man. Warm, and soft, and deep. Your tongue entered my heart when we first kissed. And I never felt a kiss like this. I never held a hand like this. Like yours. I want… I want to know you. Not just make love you, I want to know you profoundly and I want the loving and the knowing to be the same. Ha, ha, I don’t know if I’m making any sense, I think I’ve gone insane.”

“10 MINUTES TO CURTAIN CALL!”

Marielas voice rang out and startled Efraim.

“10 MINUTES!”

The ensemble replied and Efraim was startled again.

“I have to go, Efraim,” Gustavo said, an embarrassed look on his face.

“Wait, I wasn’t finished,” the priest said. “What was I saying… oh that’s right. It’s because you are… I have told you before, no other man does this to me… you are the only man…”

“Efraim, look, I’m flattered but I… I have to get ready for curtain call, padre…”

“That’s all right, I understand.”

“Perfect! We’ll talk after the show…”

“What—?”

“I was just hoping—“

“—to have one last time with you..”

“One last time, efrain. You’re not dying. Well see each other after the show, okay?”

“Here take this.”

Efraim removed a pendant that hung around his neck and handed it to Gustavo.

“It is a pendant of Archangel Michael, it’s for protection.”

Gustavo took the pendant and stared at the intimidating looking angel engraved on its surface.

“My father gave it to me before he died. He was a stonemason. He said it was bulletproof.”

Gustavo raised his eyebrows and placed the pendant in his pocket.

“Ok, father I will wear it. Is there anything else? I really have get ready…”

Efraim started at Gustavo, he appeared hurt, and an eerie look of dread hung in his deep brown eyes. There was a sadness there that unnerved Gustavo.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

But before Gustavo knew it, Mariela had emerged from behind the wall of mirrors and pulled the gitano by the elbow and he was whisked away.

Gustavo was now starting straight at the main curtain.

“You are not going to miss your cue again,” Mariela said. “Not on my watch. Trust me, jefe: there will be time for Act 2, Scene 2 of Romeo and Julieta after the show.”

“Romeo and Juliet? No me digas? Which one do you think am I? Romeo or Julieta?”

“Oh shut up! Are you ready, Gustavo?”

“How do I look?”

“Fine.”

“Just fine?”

Mariela rolled her eyes.

“Handsome, jefe. Very handsome.”

She looked at his chest for a moment and then unbuttoned one of his shirt buttons. She smiled. She fixed his tuxedo collar and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“For the women.”

He winked.

“And the men.”

She shook her head.

“Ay, Gustavo.”

As Mariela walked away she turned around.

“Are you sure?” She inquired. “You’ve never thought of…”

He shook his head.

“No, Mariela, never.”

“Not ever?” She seemed surprised.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Well it doesn’t hurt to ask!”

She laughed and walked away in several bombastic and exaggerated sexy moves.

Gustavo burst out laughing.

He soon recovered and then stood there for a moment rehearsing his lines. Almost instantly, however, the time was up: a drumming started followed quickly by a trumpet.

A lone shout rang out from the audience.

“Gustavo!!!”

Gustavo took a deep breath and held his cane tight.

The show was on.

END OF PART I

PART II, PART III, AND PART IV will be arriving shortly….