Gunslingers Don't Sing or Dance by Mike Marino (best historical biographies .TXT) 📖

Notice there are four sides of the pyramid with 91 steps to the top on each side, which in total equals 364 steps, equal to one year on the Haab Calendar of the old ones.”

 

“So….that means what?” I asked with a puzzled look on my face.

“It means my dear Baxter, the riddle is the key. “The treasure is guarded, by the sacrificed virgins, now afterlife warriors, female warriors, I might add. Mean as rattlesnakes. The key to the treasure is to get past them after you enter through the entrance from  step 365.”

 

Balam was impressed. “The beautiful senorita is correct. Once you gain entry you must then go underground to the correct chamber. There are signs carved to mislead you, into death I might add, you could be lost forever until life leaves your body. So remember this...the treasure lies within... in the underground chambers….the other in your hearts. One is life, the other could mean death and no treasure. You must choose.”

 

Jules was game and nodded to affirm the physical journey. The Colonel was even more eager “Forward I say chaps! To glory and fame!”

 

As for El Diablo. “We only live once. I say we go inside.” Succinct certainly.

 

“Isadora?”

 

“My father taught me ...Fear Nothing….Use the power within..I say yes, oui, si.”

 

“I guess it’s unanamous. Besides, any evil spirits down there can be dealt with by Isadora’s own powers.”

 

“Don’t count on it Baxter. I think the Mayan Mojo is more powerful. Feathered Serpents and an army of warlike virgins may be more than even I and Jean-Paul can handle.”

 

Even with his good luck charm of Gallego’s head and himself a member of the Voodoo undead I had to doubt our chances against any macabre Mayan myths that may attempt to impede our quest. “Do we all agree?” I asked in a whistling in a New Orleans graveyard voice.

We retired to our individual shelters to rest up for the dawns daring exploration. Isadora and I to make love to a background of Mayan flute music that seemed incessant yet hypnotic. Voodoo vagina under a Mayan moon with the planet Venus smiling down upon us.

I told Isadora finally, “I love you!” To which she replied, “Shut up, Baxter. Lie down and take it like a cowboy. Be ready...because I ain’t no virgin!”

 

After going deep into Isadora’s private chamber of sexual wonders, we fell deep into a sleep in each other’s arms drenched in love, sex and sweat. Sleep was welcomed. We would be going deep underground with underground rivers and chambers of gold not to mention Virgins from Hell. Jules Verne was jubilant. “Monsieur Dooley. Great adventure. It will be as if we are going on a journey to the center of the earth!” I had the feeling this trip was placing his literary genius on overload.

 

It was unanimous. Tomorrow at dawn we would enter the Serpent’s lair, and would have to solve the riddle to gain access to El Castillo and the treasure we hoped would be there. It was prophesy after all. You don’t fuck with aliens from space or mess with a Mayan midget with the attitude of a Billy the Kid from another galaxy.

Chapter 22 - Broken Code of Jaguars and Aliens

 

Sunrise crept slowly upward that morning to hover over the land of the jaguar and spaceships. My mind had wrestled through the all dark  coyote howling puma growling night. Step 365 still a mystery to be confronted and conquered.

My eyes became acclimated to the grey morning and as I gazed next to me  Isadora became  a vision of  sexuality….a sleek Quadroon  panther wrapped in soft mist as she lay still sleeping on the reed mats we were given as our bedroll for the night. Sex on reed mats with hypnotic flute   music cascading earthward to beat of drums of animal skin from above the great pyramid is a pleasant enough experience. The fact that that we were also full of hallucinatory drink and smoke increased the pleasure levels to a point that would make the nearest proprietor of a Chinese opium den close up shop in embarrassed dishonor!

I nudged her gently, kissed her even more gently and walked softly outside to  freshen up in one of the pools of water outside, which I found out later were ceremonial ‘cenotes’ or pools. The one I chose of course was the Sacred Well of Sacrifice. At any moment I might have a stone dagger thrust into my heart, but on second thinking I realized something important. I am not a virgin! So I would not be a worthy candidate as a sacrifice to satisfy even the lowliest perverse gods of the underground underworld of Mayan mythology. Sex can be a lifesaver if you ever find yourself on a stone slab facing a peyote priest with a ceremonial scimitar!

 

“Senor Dooley, up here!” It was the voice of El Diablo calling to me from the top of El Castillo. The sun rising behind him gave him an eerie aura of yellow gold from its ascent as he ascended the steps on the eastern side of the pyramid. “I found it!” he exclaimed excitedly. “Step 365! It’s here!” The Serpent’s must have guided him!

 

El Diablo had spent the night searching the pyramid steps for the elusive and what we felt was the non-existent ‘step 365’ considering there were only 364 of them placed by the architects of antiquity. Those madcap Mayans do like puzzles and riddles! Damn them and their spaceship amigos

I made the arduous climb to the top where El Diablo was standing on a stone step that was a stand alone flat step with carved symbols facing the east. The symbols were a series of dots, bars and what looked like shells. “What are you talking about? It’s just a slab of stone.

 

El Diablo was quick to explain. “In the Mayan numeral system they used but three symbols in different configurations. Dots are one, bars are five, and the symbol of the shell is zero. I won’t explain the long form of how they arrived at this...but  this is the only step that stands alone for no reason. Three dots over two zeros signifies 300. There are  single bars under the shells that add up to 65.  This is supposed to be because this is roughly the number of days in a solar year.  The Maya had a quite accurate calculation of 365 days for the solar year.  In effect we  have found step 365.”

I was amazed. It was as thrilling to have discovered the answer to the puzzle as it was  to watch a magician saw a dance hall girl in half in Abeline I witnessed once. He put her back together fortunately, but I would have given 50 head of Texas longhorns for her bottom half alone!

 

“How did you do this? Amazing El Diablo, absolutely amazing.”

“I am not just a horse bum on the run as you say in your country. I was a professor at the university for many years. Mexican and Native History until Maximillan had many of us removed for our ‘liberal’ views about such things as independence and freedom. The usual complaint of tyrants.”

He was remarkable. An educated academic as handy with mathematics as he was with a Colt.

“Now I am but a mere revolutionary on the run. Many of my men are former students and rebellious riff raff who will fight for any cause if there is profit in it. In these times we take what we can get. By the way, my name is Sandoz Diego Cerveza. Call me Diego.”

 

“Pleased to meet you Diego. Any man named Cerveza is alright in my book.”

I practically flew down the step waking the camp. “We found it. The missing step! No we can begin the search!”

 

The camp was rousted by my cacophony of sheer excitement. As I reached the shelter Isadora and I shared she was not there. Jean-Paul came up behind me. “She is in back of those rocks. Balam was kind enough to show her the pool where the virgins were purified prior to, well, you know. She has privacy with all these men around. He felt it was best.”

 

“Yes, yes it is Jean-Paul. Thank you or merci or whatever you say.”

I ran hard behind the rocks and there was Isadora standing half emerged in the purification pool. Water dripping from her firm round multiracial brown breasts gently bouncing as she soaped herself, her hair wet and dripping while the small patch of hair between her legs glistened  invitingly. I had spent the night firmly held inside that hidden place and found my treasure already in her animal sexuality. The Mayans missed to boat standing on ceremony!

“Come on Baxter,” she smiled cunningly. “Get in...plenty of water and soap or do you want me to lasso you?” I was a steer and she was a roper when it came to the rodeo of the libido. I could not, nor did I want to break away from her gravitational pull. She started thrusting gently in the water with a gyrating torso that could power an industrial dynamo in anyone’s industrial revolution.”

I removed my gun belt, pants and shirt and joined her in the pool of purification. I was ready to empty every chamber in my gun. She could tell by my face and showed me where the bullseye was. I may been a sharpshooter….but could tell...she was calling all the shots

Chapter 23 - Pyramids, Pirates & Parrots

 

Isadora and I dressed quickly and met the others at the base of the pyramid. Isadora remained with the others as I ran up the steps one more time to confer with Diego.

 

Sandoz Diego Cerveza, aka El Diablo was a complex conundrum almost as puzzling as Balam, the diminutive guardian of Chichen Itza. Add to the odd mixture of traveling companions, one Jules Verne, part scientist, part fabricator of fairy tale fiction, along with

Isadora and Jean-Paul who were the gatekeepers to the Ninth Gate of Voodoo hell,   and I felt awash in an ocean of inventive imagination, floundering in a sea of surrealism.

 

“Now we’ve found the elusive stone step Diego, but I don’t see any entrance. Once again we hit a stone wall, literally!” I said in frustration. Balam, who made the trek up with me couldn’t contain his delight at my dejected state. “Look to the sky, Senor Dooley,” he remarked.

 

I did. I saw parrots! At first all I could see were colorful parrots and an absolutely clear as a bell blue sky, horizon to horizon.