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

will be an agreeable choice. Besides, it will enhance the experience of being in a room of gems, jewels, silver and gold.”

 

We felt obliged to humor our host in the hopes that the red mushroom was not a member of a family of fatal fungi. Cautiously we all took a piece Balam had in a woven basket. It didn’t take long for it’s effects to present themselves. I looked at Isadora who appeared to have sprouted giant blue wings that would carry her aloft. Her feet were of gold and golden rays seemed to  shoot from her eyes which were now not brown but as red as rubies as the carvings on the wall depicted.

 

‘Mushrooms of Meditation’ Diego declared. “Psilocybin to be exact. Very nice. Very nice indeed. Now we will see the colorful dragons before they attack!”

 

Jean-Paul was in a trance it seemed talking to the now shrunken head of the dearly departed Gallegos as if it were a pirates pet parrot. He kept telling the lifeless head to be quiet! Strange these mushrooms.

 

Isadora was the only one with her feet firmly on the ground and didn’t even notice when I yelled out to warn everyone of the giant yellow octopus with eight  heads dropping from the cavern ceiling speaking German and dressed as a female impersonator on the strasse in Berlin.

 

Balam was smiling that Midget Mayan smile that he must have used when he was Master of Ceremonies at the Saturday Night live virgin sacrifices. Rimshots and comedy to placate the patrons at the dinner show where laughter abounds as a virgin goes under the ceremonial knife. “Next show will be a matinee, folks. Bring the kids and enjoy the fun!”

 

Diego’s dragons were all around us, Jules was painting the air with invisible impressionist brushes, while Gallegos dead head became a ventriloquist’s dummy spewing profanity at  a congregation of Baptists in a tent, under the religious big top waiting for the really big show...the resurrection in three part harmony with a barbershop quartet bringing in the sheaves during the public hanging of Three Fingers Finnigan, bank robber, rustler, card cheat and cross dresser!

After a few hours the effects of the mushrooms subsided. I made a mental note. I loved my opium dens, but had to remember this chamber...dead heads...talking heads….dragons...to me this was pharma heaven!

 

“You have now earned the right to cross over to the Chamber of Dreams...Isadora will lead the way...if you please Ma’am,” Balam asked imploringly.

She lead...I followed her to her father’s dream, all of our dreams...soon...a reality.

Chapter 26 - Treasure & Alien Space Ships

 

At first sight, the magnificent cavern that held the world’s treasure a secret for centuries seemed to awaken from a slumber once Isadora had entered its chamber. Her entire body emitting a radiant rainbow of colors bathing the walls in a variety of  hues that seemed to originate from somewhere deep inside her. It was as if an inner power in her had been triggered according to the plan of the ancients who traveled the cosmos in search of new home planets, thanks to exploding suns, black holes and other nefarious scientific malfunctions of a not so perfect universe that threatened to wipe out entire civilizations.

 

Venusians, according to lore, sought refuge on Earth mating and mingling in the Yucatan as it’s own private bordello creating in it’s wake a race of Mayan Midgets. One Venusian, Queen Xantar, leader of the journey,  mated with Isadora’s father, and stayed along with others. When Isadora was born, a mutant by standards, not a midget, but would become tall and stately as her mother, the Queen.

 

Queen Xantar, impregnated in the Yucatan by her Earthling lover died in childbirth in New Orleans where she had taken up the study of the occult and the practice of Voodoo, which was passed along in her genes to her daughter. Isadora’s father kept the map to the treasure and protected it’s location until his death when it was time for Isadora to discover her own birthright and power on her own. It was so written.

 

It was as if the chamber had been awaiting Isadora’s arrival to begin it’s impromptu coronation. Her father, scientist and adventurer was after all a mere mortal human who mated and married Xanar, the mystery woman from Venus who bore him a girl-child, my Isadora who now became suddenly aware of her identity and purpose.   

 

She led us all though pathways lined with the fabulous riches of the ages brought here by the ancients for safekeeping until such a time as this….The Reclamation.

 

Balam walked religiously to Isadora bearing an amulet on a gold chain that he placed upon her neck. She raised her head looking to the cavern ceiling and in a commanding voice that seemed to emerge from another world “The treasure is within. Fill your dreams!”

 

Here were the riches of the Moors, the Mongols, the Roman Empire, the Mayans, Aztecs and those of Spanish conquest now laid before us as tribute to take and do with as we pleased. Balam, wise beyond time said, “Take what you need...use it to fill dreams. If you use it for evil, the greed will  kill you!” Christ, one more curse and I’ll fucking shoot myself!

 

Isadora started staggering and was sweating. I ran to her before she collapsed and held her in my arms. I was afraid the stress was going to kill her….not easy finally realizing you’re a creation of beings from two planets and you have more power than that locked up on the surface of the sun.

 

“Isadora, it’s OK. I’m here.,...let’s get out of here...you found the treasure..you fulfilled your father’s dream and apparently you’re own destiny.     

 

Balam smiled wisely. “You have chosen your treasure in Isadora wisely Senor Dooley. Unselfishly too, I might add. She has already chosen you!”

 

While everyone in the party loaded up with gold this and silver that,  not to mention diamonds and rubies and strange artifacts sure to fetch a few greenbacks at the museums, I carried only Isadora back to the entrance. Once there, we would allow the others left to guard our backside, banditos all, to be led into the chamber to take their fill of the booty.

 

As we emerged into the blinding daylight we were met with a sight we didn’t expect. Our men were completely surrounded by gunmen led by the Canadian pimp and swindler, Monty Debauchery!! He had caught up with us with our pants down.

 

“Ah, Monsieur Dooley. Thank you for leading us to the real treasure. Were it not for Senor Gallegos we would not have known of the switched maps. Unfortunately he also has a loose tongue and will turn on his grandmother for a drink and a 25 dollar gold piece. I see however, he now travels with the big fellow there.”

 

“Alright Monty, there’s plenty here to split. Much more than many of us can possibly use. Take the rest, it’s yours. We can call it even and no one has to die.”

 

“I would agree but I think we will take it all if you don’t mind. My men will go in and remove the rest. Balam here will lead us safely won’t you little man?”

 

Balam agreed reluctantly, but I could see a plan forming in his mind. Between the curses, boobytraps and Balams hidden army there was hope yet. I didn’t realize that Isadora alone was a tower of power in her own right, nor that Captain Marcel, by pre-arrangement had arrived offshore in a giant submersible ship he had developed awaiting our arrival with the loot. I also didn’t notice that Jules Verne and the Col had slipped away quietly and during the ensuing chaos were now out of sight behind the pyramid readying the flying balloon.

 

Now I just had to bide my time. C’mon Isadora! Jean Paul was sitting silently in prayer. As he swayed back and forth chanting, Isadora suddenly opened her eyes. The red was pure flame….”I love you Baxter Dooley. I know who I am now. With you I am whole!”

 

“I love you too Isadora, but right now we have a problem..see….in facta big Canadian problem. Monty’s here and I don’t think he wants to leave any witnesses!! You got any of that old fashioned voodoo mojo handy or that weird space eye ray thing I feel it might help at this point in time!”

 

 

Chapter 27 - Yellow Submarines & Sky Pilots

 

A contingent of Monty’s men,  12 in all remained behind to keep us as bay to prevent us from interfering with the plunder of plenty that was underway deep within the pyramid.

They had already relieved us of all our weapons that now formed a great pile of pistols, rifles, and knives out of our reach. I could see El Diablo, once an academic, now a pissed off pistolero ready to spring into action at just the right moment. His men too were itching for a showdown.

 

While Monty’s rear guard joked among themselves there suddenly appeared in the sky, the Colonel and Verne assuming the high ground. We knew the basket was a fully loaded nightmare of dynamite ready to deal death from above. We immediately broke rank and dove for our weapons while Monty’s men in mass confusion ran towards their horses.  

 

We began firing at them while Jules tossed lit dynamite towards the path of their retreat. Most of the horses bolted and ran at the first sounds of the cacophony leaving their riders laying in the dust. Bruised, bleeding and broken.  Ground fire and air support!  

 

El Diablo and his men took care of the mop up operation, tying up prisoners, taking care as best they felt of the wounded, and collecting weapons. Isadora, whom I had laid carefully on the ground behind an outcropping to shield her from the heat of bullets and bombs was now awakened fully, studying the carnage.

 

Now all we had to do was wait for Monty and his mercenaries to emerge from the pyramid, arms laden with treasure. The difference now is….we have the advantage ...the element of surprise. We’d take that treasure and add it to our massive pile and dole it out, then we we had to decide what to do with Monty and the remainder of his men.

 

We waited for hours and soon heard laughter and singing as Monty’s crew emerged with arms laden with treasure….only to find us in a standoff line laden with arms!