Mayab Hunter, a short story

From my beloved father, always attracted to shady subjects, the following short story about an alcohol crazed mayan, probably a true one (Am I wrong, dad?).

Mayab Hunter
By Rodrigo de Valdivielso

-I swear it on my dear mama, commander! On the most sacred, on the life of my kids; everything happened just as I told you, there never was any mean wish, any bad intention; it was those dammed bad spirits, those aluxes that my compadre, God save his soul, had warned me about…

-We had been inside the jungle several times before, two days, three days; pure necessity commander, somehow we have to provide to barely feed our families, just look at me, already with 5 kids and the woman with the business still fully operational. There is no work and by picking up aluminum cans, discarded metal, it’s never enough…

-Well yeah, I don’t want to lie to you commander, sometimes I smoke the rock, drink the beers, cheap aguardiente… But I always think of my starving family first.

-We were gone by sunrise, you know how hot it gets later on; we walked about four hours and then we split… that was when everything went down the drain…

-I have already told my compadre, his soul be at the side of God father! “Weapons are the devil” but he was stubborn as a mule, he kept saying: “I’ll send the animals to you”, “you go and hide in the bushes and I’ll beat the wild beasts in your direction”… Well, finally, he lent me his shotgun, all beaten up the old thing, but my compadre, blessed be his soul, for sure kept it trigger ready and well oiled.

-That’s how it was, dude. Sorry, sorry! Commander. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m telling you… we got separated; I went in the direction of the darkest part of the jungle, you know how it is: the intolerable heat, clouds of cannibal mosquitoes; it went on and on , separated for
about another three hours, suddenly, I started to hear strange noises like those made by animals roaming the jungle. I just went small, small and quiet in my hiding place, sweating, trying not to scare them… I cocked the shotgun.

-Yeah, yeah, I said that weapons are the devil and that my compadre, his eternal soul be at the mercy of the Almighty, lent me his shotgun, but you know? I also know how to handle a piece; I’m not a fool commander. Well, where was I?... Ah! Yeah, coming straight from the jungle, through a little clear in the bushes, I saw one of those wild pigs charging, a big hog; I definitely saw it, just as I am looking at you, commander.

-But commander! I would never dare to offend you in such a manner! I`m just saying that I saw it sharp, in the flesh, as if it was right here snorting as a vision from hell, the dammed beast.

-What was I supposed to do? I just shot it right there and then and, dammed be my luck! I hit it right between his ugly face and breast He fell hard in front of me in a huge cloud of sand, twigs and blood; dead to the world.

-But commander, I`m telling you again that it was those dammed creatures from the jungle, those well known aluxes, evil spirits from the bush who changed my vision; It is impossible for you to think that I was going to kill my poor little compadre Vicente, may his soul live forever in the company of our holy Virgin of Guadalupe, and least of all by a shotgun wound in his face… As much as I loved my compadre.