I breathed in the distinct smell of Mexico. It smelled like wet dirt and the air was unbearably muggy. I looked at the clouded sky, noticing the advancing darkness; it was going to rain soon. The humid air was making me feel hot enough to change into a pair of shorts, but given the place I was in, I had to deal with my jeans and t-shirt. Weather like this in Puerto Vallarta wasn’t unusual. On the beaches, people would walk around in the rain, sometimes naked. I’ve grown to expect it now.
My uncle’s pick-up truck was sitting in the parking lot under a small tree; even the trees looked different than those in California.
“Hot isn’t it?” My uncle asked. A grin appeared in his face, thinking the same thing I was.
“Yup.” was my response.
I helped him load my suitcases, tying my jacket around my waist when I got too hot. To hell with looking good. I tried many ways to get a whiff of cool air but there simply was no breeze. We left when the truck was loaded.
After the constant turns and narrow roads, so narrow that two cars could barely fit, we reached the crossing that pointed us to Navidad. It was about three o’clock when we got there, so normally, the plaza was deserted. In the early days of July, before the parties start, I could go to the plaza and be the only one there in a public place. It’s where my friends and I normally met.
We reached my house a short while after that. The pebbled roads of the town made the ride a bumpy one, as usual. My father’s house was big, well bigger than the one back in the U.S. The backyard was big enough to hold parties for the whole family, and bigger still was the house itself. It used to be one story but the family has been expanding, so my father fixed the attic to make a second floor.
Feeling too keyed up to unpack; I headed out the gate and onto the familiar streets of dirt and pebbles. Navidad was known for it‘s streets. Being the time that it was, I didn’t encounter anyone on my walk to the plaza, not surprising. I crossed the church until I came upon the curato, were I sat during the day and just admired the beauty of the town.
I’m home!
“!Lidia!”
I turned to look at the person who called me. Cruz was jogging towards me from the candy store. I took the time to really look at him. His dark short hair stood in spikes and he was wearing his normal hand-me-down clothes. His big bright smile was infectious and I found myself smiling along with him.
“Hey!”
“Como estas?” he asked. He came to sit by me.
“Good. How’ve you been?”
“Good, I guess. Same old, same old” Cruz said.
As the clock stroke four, the stores opened their doors. The ice cream parlor welcome people in and the town became alive as children roamed the streets.
“C’mon, let’s go get some ice cream. I haven’t had any since the last time I was here.”
After eating our deliciously nutritious ice cream we decided to go to La Cruz.
“But nobody is here.” I said, we were still the only two in the pack at the plaza.
“Let’s go get Jimmena, Marques and Luis.” he suggested
We split up, I went to Jimmena’s house and he went for the boys.
“But I don’t want to go!” Whined Jimmena. I found her in bed with her pajamas watching TV.
“I’m bored and it would do you good to get up from your lazy ass.” I told her; she made no move to get up.
“Cruz will be there.” I goaded
“Ok, I’m going.” Jimmena jumped from the bed to her closet and thrust the doors open.
After ten minutes of telling her that she only needed jeans and a shirt, like I was wearing, in which she commented that she can’t wear just any jeans because Cruz would be there. We headed out to met up with the guys, which were already there waiting for us outside Juanito’s shop with bags of snacks to eat.
“Took you long enough.” Marques accused me.
“I had to get miss perfection; you know how long she takes.” I defended myself.
“I’m right here people.” Said Jimmena. We left after that.
Finding our way wasn’t as hard as I had anticipated. We started out climbing the back of o hill that ended right behind my dream house. Despite only haven been there once, I recognized all the signs leading to La Cruz. To my amazement, it was the first time Cruz had been there though he lived here.
“Ow” Said Jimmena. She was constantly whining, not very good at climbing. She had just slipped and landed on her knees. No one paid much attention except Cruz.
“Wait for me Marques” I told him. “Don’t leave me with the love birds!”
“Come on then” He waited next to a tree.
We reached the top, Jimmena not far behind. We admired the mountains surrounding our small town. Pointed to our houses and even people we recognized walking through the streets. After taking pictures, we struggled down hill, catching ourselves before we slid down and hit a tree, not that the guys cared much.
And so summer began, and it became a daily necessity to wonder through the mysterious paths of the mountains. At night, I became the flirtatious girl who didn’t want to sit down and at day, the curious adventurer.
One night, I found myself sitting with a group of people, bored. The girls and I didn’t feel like dancing and the guys were getting tired of waking up to a sunny day that damaged their eyes and caused them migraines. Bad-ass Cristobal was with us, or at least everyone thought he was a bad-ass. Not the greatest guy.
We were sitting on the steps of the church; my legs were tucked in, cold from the exposure to the chilly air. Cristobal started telling ghost stories of the town.
“Up there, that river that comes down from El Norterillo, that’s were the Devil is found sleeping” He pointed to a place none of us could see, but we all knew it was a little river, under the bridge, that was right around the corner.
“Then, that river flows in between the houses right there, that’s were La llorona can be found, and then later down that river, the one that’s always dry. That’s were Tanacas stays. Then, when you come down the little hill, around these houses, that little hill? Well that’s where a big bull with fiery red eyes is found. He is supposed to be the Devil.” I was familiar with La llorona, a woman who went crazy and killed her children then killed herself, she supposedly mourns the loss of her children at night; and with the Devils but I wasn’t familiar with Tanacas.
“Tanacas? Who is he?” At my question, Cristobal looked at me. A mischievous smile took over his face, then as suddenly as it appeared it was gone. Still looking at me, he answered, with a deep low voice, almost a whisper.
“Tanacas was an old man that lived in the house right in front of that bridge, the one by your house. He used to be a rich old man, and everybody knew it. One day, during the parties, two guys busted into his house to take his money. Tanacas found them, they guys were armed. He told them to take the money in exchange for his life, he begged them to let him live. But these guys shot him, beat him and cut him until he was dead. Then they threw him over the bridge and left him there to rot, not even. The pigs got to him first.
“So why is he supposed to be scary. Is he, like supposed to come up the bridge and grab you?” Amparo asked. She was Cristobal’s sister, younger than he was. He looked straight at her.
“That is exactly what he does. He gets revenge for his murder from anyone that walks that bridge around two in the morning.”
“Why two?” I asked. It was a fascinating story, but it was a story nonetheless. I had walked through that bridge a million times before and got home safe and sound.
“Because that is the time everyone thinks that he was thrown into the river.” he stated matter of factly.
“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m ready to get back to reality and dance the night away.” I stood up and made my way down the stairs.
“Scared, Jimenez?” he looked at me as if he knew all too well that I was.
“No. Just tired of your nonsense.” I turned around and finished walking to the plaza.
I danced the rest of the night. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I was trying to avoid Cristobal. His troublesome know-it-all attitude rubbed me the wrong way and I wanted to steer clear. Time flies by when you’re having fun, or so they say, which was why I was in the plaza, ready to leave when it stoke two; tired and sleepy, never mind the story.
I said goodbye to my friends and the cute boy I was dancing with. I was aware that I was the only one into eh streets, the only people still up were in the plaza. I crossed the bridge with ought thought and then Cristobal’s words echoed through my head:
He gets revenge for his murder from anyone that walks that bridge around two in the morning.
The wind was blowing hard, something I didn’t notice with all the dancing. It made a small whistle as I began walking the bridge. I looked at the side where I could see the water, it was pitch black. The possibility of someone jumping out became very possible all of a sudden.
It’s not real; it was just Cristobal trying to scare you.
Its no-
“Aaaghhh” I felt something cold grab my ankle and pull. I fell down on my back; my heart was pumping so hard that it was all I could hear. Adrenaline was rushing through my body as I was getting ready to scream again.
The pebbled road was dug into my skin with a ferocious motive unknown to me. The cold thing tugged at my ankle and I was turned around. I saw Cristobal looking down at me with a wicked smile, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief, laughing.
“Didn‘t mean to scare you.” He let go of my ankle and turned around chuckling.
“Pinchi puto!” I got up quickly, despite my heels. My heart was still thumping at an irregular speed.
He looked at me with and evil smile.
“Go fuck your mom, Cris.” He made no comment, just turned around and walked way, still laughing.
I turned around and also headed back home. His laugh sent a chill down my spine, but I knew it was just me overreacting
The porch light turned on as I approached the door. I went inside, straight to the kitchen to make myself a cup of chocolate. I needed to calm down; the house seemed empty now, room for someone to hide.
The scare didn’t last long though; I was too tired to think about it. Once I went to bed and turned off the light, I was gone.
I didn’t wake up until eleven the next morning. Tanacas was hiding somewhere deep inside my mind, waiting to get out again, but I didn’t let it. I told the guys what happened, and they each took turns walking me home after that. I began to feel childish the more they accompanied me. Nothing happened though which made me feel like a bigger wimp. I decided to walk home alone after a while. Cruz had walked me half way but I knew he wanted to go back and hang with Jimmena. I didn’t mind that much, I had already convinced myself that Cristobal wasn’t going to try another trick, I hadn’t seen him at all tonight, So I toughened up and sent Cruz on his way.
Cruz’s footsteps grew fainter as we each toke quick steps in different directions. I was still calm though on edge. The wind decided then to blow, arousing goose bumps down my arms.
When the wind quieted down, I made the mistake to look around me, right at the empty pitch black space that should be a river. For a moment, I thought I saw something move, but once I looked again, I saw the darkness as still as ever. It was impossible to identify anything, the two shades of black were so similar that I gave up and blamed it on my eyes.
I walked faster. Silence echoed everywhere and my feet were the only things breaking it. I was almost out of the bridge when I thought I heard other footsteps. I stopped and looked behind me, nothing; just a far away light that was flickering. I turned back around, now I was panicking, the night seemed to hold an evil secret between the stars.
Before I took another step though, I felt something take hold of my feet. I didn’t scream. I turned around, so sure that I would find Cristobal doing the same thing, but all I saw was a black shape. I fell to the ground and heard a familiar chuckle come from the darkness. A black hand pulled my feet toward the edge of the bridge. My scream was the second thing that broke the silence that night.
“HELP!! SOCORRO! AYUDA!” It was pulled harder. I kicked and kicked in vain, all the while screaming for help. I couldn’t get out. The hold on my feet became unbearable and this time, I screamed in agony. Tears flowed from my eyes, blurring my vision. I turned around on my stomach and tried to reach for something, but I found none, and my feet were already over the bridge. I screamed again, before being pulled almost all the way down. It clinged to the rest of my body as little by little swallowed me whole. My feet were trapped; I felt no control over them. I was clinging to the edge of the bridge, crying and screaming.
“Lidia!!” I heard it. I cried even harder now. At the sound of a familiar voice, my brain cleared up and I was able to get myself up, then I realized nothing was grabbing me anymore.
“What are you doing there?” Cruz. Of course it was him. I needed to see his face, to tell myself it was not real and that I just made a fool of myself; I wanted to be a fool.
“Cruz! Cruz, thank God!” I was just getting ready to run to him. I took a step and fell, too clumsy to walk yet.
“What’s wrong, are you hurt?” He picked me up. I cried on his shoulder. He tried to comfort me, still asking what happened.
“Did Cristobal scare you again?” He asked.
“What?”
“I passed him when I got to you.” He pilled me away, and looked me in the eye. Could it have been him? Was it just another prank of Cristobal’s? But it seemed so real. I looked down at my ankle; there was no trace or print of the hand that had pulled me so harshly. I looked at the edge again, and when I looked Cruz looked with me.
“I don’t know” I said, staring at the emptiness of the river.
“What do you mean?” He turned to look at me.
“I felt something pull me down there, but I couldn’t see what it was or who. Then it laughed” I looked at Cruz.
“It disappeared when it heard you coming.” Then Cruz bent down to pick up a piece of black cloth, and then put it in his pocket. He put an arm around me and walked me the rest of the way home. He stayed with me until I fell asleep.
The next day I saw Cristobal with a ripped shirt.
Cruz punched him for me.
Gender:
Points: 1450
Reviews: 5