01-03-2021, 12:26 AM
"Go past, twenty yards." Delia said to driver.
He continues onward, then pulls to the side of the dirt road and stops. Delia jumps out. Before closing
her door she reaches into the glove box, pulls out a white envelope and sticks it in her back pocket.
"Leave it at the bottom, just inside." she tells him, shifting her eyes towards the canyon below.
Driver nods the affirmative. Delia walks back to free Sanchez from the prisoner-hold. She throws the
doors open, grabs his collar and slings him to the ground. He hits face first. She trots up to the left
side window.
"Wait for me at the top of the road."
Driver pulls away.
Sanchez rolls around trying to find a sitting position. Delia approaches, cutting his ankle bindings but
leaving his hands tied behind his back. She helps the psychopath to his feet.
They both stand looking at the lone shack perched on the small hill.
"If this is your idea of a lover's getaway, I'm extremely disappointed." he says in his usual sickly tone.
Delia kicks him in the calf. "Move!" she demands.
They work their way toward the tiny outpost and a man walks out onto the porch. He stands looking in
their direction. As they get closer he walks out to meet them at the road.
"Dos minutos." he says to Delia, looking at Sanchez in utter disgust.
"Gracias." she replies, gently smiling.
They climb the old wooden porch and Delia opens the door for Sanchez. It was the first and last act of
kindness she'd ever perform for him. Once inside, they witness heartbreak.
"Hola, como estas?" Delia says quietly, as though speaking to a timid child.
The lady sitting up in the flimsy bed didn't even acknowledge them. She was rocking back and forth,
holding her knees against her chest, humming the tune of an old Mexican nursery rhyme. Her appearance
spoke of torture. The end tip of her nose had been cut off. Both sides of her face had been slashed. One eye
was badly damaged and her forearms carried the mark of dozens of cigarette burns. All the scars many years
old but their impact played out in present time. She was very badly broken.
"What the Hell is this?" Sanchez whispered to Delia.
Her stare was icy. "Don't recognize the fruits of your labor?"
Delia takes a step closer to the poor woman.
"Tienes un dia maravilloso." she says before backing away and pushing Sanchez towards the door.
The lady continues existing in her own world. Not once looking up at her visitors.
Delia walks her prisoner out and they meet the lady's husband at the edge of the yard. She shoves
Sanchez as a sign to keep moving and stops to hand the man a few folded up bills.
"Muchas gracias senor."
"De nada." he replies.
The man goes back inside and Delia marches Sanchez down into that canyon.
It was a very hot and dusty day...
He continues onward, then pulls to the side of the dirt road and stops. Delia jumps out. Before closing
her door she reaches into the glove box, pulls out a white envelope and sticks it in her back pocket.
"Leave it at the bottom, just inside." she tells him, shifting her eyes towards the canyon below.
Driver nods the affirmative. Delia walks back to free Sanchez from the prisoner-hold. She throws the
doors open, grabs his collar and slings him to the ground. He hits face first. She trots up to the left
side window.
"Wait for me at the top of the road."
Driver pulls away.
Sanchez rolls around trying to find a sitting position. Delia approaches, cutting his ankle bindings but
leaving his hands tied behind his back. She helps the psychopath to his feet.
They both stand looking at the lone shack perched on the small hill.
"If this is your idea of a lover's getaway, I'm extremely disappointed." he says in his usual sickly tone.
Delia kicks him in the calf. "Move!" she demands.
They work their way toward the tiny outpost and a man walks out onto the porch. He stands looking in
their direction. As they get closer he walks out to meet them at the road.
"Dos minutos." he says to Delia, looking at Sanchez in utter disgust.
"Gracias." she replies, gently smiling.
They climb the old wooden porch and Delia opens the door for Sanchez. It was the first and last act of
kindness she'd ever perform for him. Once inside, they witness heartbreak.
"Hola, como estas?" Delia says quietly, as though speaking to a timid child.
The lady sitting up in the flimsy bed didn't even acknowledge them. She was rocking back and forth,
holding her knees against her chest, humming the tune of an old Mexican nursery rhyme. Her appearance
spoke of torture. The end tip of her nose had been cut off. Both sides of her face had been slashed. One eye
was badly damaged and her forearms carried the mark of dozens of cigarette burns. All the scars many years
old but their impact played out in present time. She was very badly broken.
"What the Hell is this?" Sanchez whispered to Delia.
Her stare was icy. "Don't recognize the fruits of your labor?"
Delia takes a step closer to the poor woman.
"Tienes un dia maravilloso." she says before backing away and pushing Sanchez towards the door.
The lady continues existing in her own world. Not once looking up at her visitors.
Delia walks her prisoner out and they meet the lady's husband at the edge of the yard. She shoves
Sanchez as a sign to keep moving and stops to hand the man a few folded up bills.
"Muchas gracias senor."
"De nada." he replies.
The man goes back inside and Delia marches Sanchez down into that canyon.
It was a very hot and dusty day...
