2012 the in-Ko-Pah Spirit - 12 Pages

7/30/2019 2012 the in-Ko-Pah Spirit - 12 Pages

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THE

IN-KO-PAHSPIRIT

A Novella

by

WALLY RUNNELS


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First published in the United States of America 2012

Kindle Edition:

ISBN: 978-0-9856799-0-3

ASIN: B007VR4DOO

Copyright 2012 Dayton Wallace Runnels

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book

via any means without the permission of the author is

illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase onlyauthorized electronic editions, and do not participate

in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted

materials. Your support of the authors rights

is appreciated.

For more information visit:

www.WallyRunnels.com
http://www.wallyrunnels.com/http://www.wallyrunnels.com/


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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thanks are due to my Wednesday night reading

group, where we review our work in spirited debate,

give and receive helpful critiques, and especially to

Louella Nelson, the group leader, my writing mentor.

Id also like to give thanks to Jeanne McCafferty,

the editor who worked me through the details and who

helped my story immensely.


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These horns the Indians are careful not towaste. Indeed, whenever they kill a sheepthey carry the horns to the neighborhood

of the water holes, where they go pilingthem up to prevent the Air from leavingthe place. Those who, like ourselves, do

not practice or do not know of this super-stition, they warn not to take one from itsplace, because that element would come

out to molest everybody and cause them to

experience greater troubles.

Juan Bautista de AnzaJanuary 1774

Cabeza Prieta Tank


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The In-Ko-Pah Spirit

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1 - Nothing To Worry About

Two men pondered in cloudy humidity inside asweat hut behind a weathered cottage on the Manza-nita Indian Reservation in Californias Southern SanDiego County. Around them, the In-Ko-Pah mountains

broke and tilted the earth into a corrugated landscapetextured by sage and redshank chaparral.

Stay home, Rocky, John Blackfeather gasped,reacting to the heat. Mexicali is a nasty place with Ro-

berto Cruz and his crowd. Shiny with sweat, he satnaked, his body rolled with soft muscle.

Could use the money, said Rocky. His bodyglistened as he exed his right arm and watched the

muscles articulate in crisp highlights. Grabbing hisleft appendage truncated above the elbow he workedit against the strength of his right. John watched andnally turned away with a distant look on his face.

Rocky crinkled a sage bouquet in his hand andthe akes made a pungent scent that rose with thesteam. Although the two sat together in the tight en-

closure, vapor-lled air sometimes made one invisiblecreating a sense of solitude for the other.

John Blackfeather knew Rocky was a hitter, ahired killer. He wasnt bothered. Like Rocky, hed seen


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Wally Runnels

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death in Afghanistan and the county, where he was alieutenant in the sheriffs department.

Rocky found his work in Mexico. Neither manplayed in the others backyard. Most people in the areaknew Rocky lived by a strange code and so they left himalone. Rocky and John stayed in their professional co-coons and were friends.

Pass me your cup. Ill pour you more sage tea.

Thanks, said Rocky. The stuff works.

Brings an overall wellness like nothing else,said Blackfeather. He let out a big sigh. Just be happy

you dont have my job. They got me on the rez. Gottaplease the elders, make arrests without pissing off thefamilies.

I usually only have one boss, said Rocky.

Dont have to follow some winding political road.Well, I gotta listen to Ernest Birdtrot accuse

Raoul Creekwater of stealing his stock. Blackfeathershook his head. Bullshit like that.

They go to you, cause you got the badge.

Council has me talking to the curanderos now;

shaman types. Magic guys say sacred game is beingkilled.

Is that whats got everyone worried?

Supposedly got an angry creature roaming thehills that can only be whomped by a white man. Johngave Rocky a knowing look.

Better call the DEA or the ATF? grinned Rocky.

Wish I could, said Blackfeather. A fella of-fered to smoke up my pickup with copal incense tokeep away ghosts.

Rocky knew better than to laugh. Nothing on


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the rez regarding spirits was ever funny. And he wasntsure how deep Blackfeather was in the mystery stuff.How can a white man do something an Indian cant?

Cause youre ignorant of its power. Indiandsee it and turn to stone from fright. John wiped hisface with a towel. You might want to hang hawk feath-ers over your doors to keep the bad things out.

Rocky nodded and stayed silent.

Some folks say they can hear the evil ones walk-

ing around at night, tinkling their little bells, hoping tolure someone.

Rocky could only nod with a serious look on hisface. He wasnt sure how to react to Johns remark.

Stick a totem up so something evil cant get inyour house, said John Blackfeather. Got two if you

need em.Thanks, a singles ne. Shacks only got one

get-into hole.

Rocky really wasnt superstitious, but hed donetoo much peyote with his Native American friends toquestion their intuition.

Be around tomorrow?No, Ill be in Mexicali. Cant back out and get

Roberto Cruz upset.

Yeah, dont piss off that killing bastard.

Goes through a lot of oil drums, said Rocky. Abody ts just right in one of those things. He pausedand took a deep inhale of the fragrant steam. Did youknow he came from a wealthy family? Went to UCLA.

A captain in the Federales and runs a drug cartel.

Not exactly a poor Mexican, huh? Blackfeath-er wiped his face with a towel.


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Wally Runnels

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Says hes a Spaniard, said Rocky. His momowns ranches and oil wells. Hes the only child.

You wonder why a guy with all that turns tocrime? Blackfeather sipped his tea. Wonder what hemakes a month?

To hear Hector talk he pulls in a million or twoevery month.

Blackfeather jerked back, a look of surprise onhis face. Thats good enough for me.

Buys art, said Rocky. Lots of Hockney, andsome guy named Ed Ruscha.

Must be nice, sighed Blackfeather. Hes got aproblem in Mexicali?

Another honest citizen, wheezed Rocky againstthe heat. I try not to go too deep into my work.

Just stay away from the mountains for a while,said Blackfeather.

I just hike the easy trails. Nothing up there tobother me.

Im sure thats what Custer was thinking whenhe was down on the Little Big Horn. Blackfeather

gave Rocky a sly grin.


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2 - Dude, Nice Tie

In Mexicali, Baja California, theres a smallprinting establishment. Neat, clean and well managed,like the mind of the proprietor. The shop squatted ina at outlying area of low square buildings and narrowstreets which, except for glass windows, TV antennasand cars, could have been Neolithic.

A gure stood outside the printers door. Blacksuit, matching open-collared shirt, boots with silvertipped toes, and a white Panama pulled over his eyes.The street was empty. At that time of day, locals tooksiestas.

He rubbed a small brass Buddha he carried in

his jacket pocket. In a praying gesture he held his onlyhand thumb-up against his heart. He spoke his mantrain a low voice. May I nd peace. May I hold peace.May peace enfold me.

Entering, he closed the door behind him turningthe Open/Closed sign to Closed. Printing noise lledthe room. It was like riding inside an MPC: Marine

Personnel Carrier. At least the room didnt shake, butthe sound brought back bad memories.

Busy with the machine, Gustavo Calles was un-aware of the visitors entrance. XEMO radio blared


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Wally Runnels

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American rock n roll sung in Spanish.

A biting solvent, and the thick viscous odor ofprinters ink colored the air in oily fumes. The pungentodors reminded the new entrant of the chemical train-ing chamber at Camp Pendleton. He poured a cup ofcomplimentary coffee and selected paper samples of

various colors. With a ballpoint pen attached to thecounter by a thin chain, he scribbled doodles on severalsheets.

In the center of the room sat a press built like aGerman Panzer. The Heidelberg Windmill letterpresswas called the Prince of Presses. Calles silent visitorhad researched this machine carefully. It would be hispartner. He knew Calless local fame was based on hiscontinuing crusade against corruption. In fact, that

was the reason for his visit.

Technically called a Windmill because of the pa-per feeders, two inverted Ls with pneumatic grippersat each end moved with mechanical authority. Twoarms hissed and gripped, rotating in quick jerks, feed-ing paper stock to the jaw-like platens, whose power

was measured in tons; the platens then closed on theoffered sheet, making an impression.

The stock, still held by the gripper, was thendelivered to the drying plate. Each series of maneu-

vers produced a single impression. Fifty repetitions ormore could be repeated in the period of a minute.

The visitor studied the exposed iron spoke y-wheel. Like the drivers of a locomotive, it turned byrotating arms and elbows, sprockets, gears, spindles all moving with a lubricated chunk and rattle.

Today was Tuesday. Calles would be wear-ing his Don Ho Special Luau Pink Orchid tie. He was.Calles was also famous for his wide brightly owered


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neckpieces he ordered from a shop in Hawaii. Withinthe year, he never wore the same necktie twice. Peopleknew what day it was by the tie that Calles wore. As

always the oral cravat was inside his printers apron.One didnt wear loose clothing when the Prince was op-erating.

With an exaggerated ourish, the visitor re-moved his hat and placed it on the counter. He shiftedhis jacket over his shoulders like an Italian movie actorto hide the decit of having only one arm.

Calles caught the action and looked up. Smiling,the perceived client quickly moved around the counterand handed the sheets of paper to Calles.

Hi, my names Rocky.

Rocky? said Calles. You new here?

Not really.For a moment their eyes locked.

Rocky, thats it?

Usually thats enough, said Rocky.

Im busy right now, said Calles.

Rocky could hear irritation in his voice. Just

have a look, Rocky said with a grin. Then Ill comeback.

Im chairing a meeting tonight, Calles said, al-most to himself. About that crook, Roberto Cruz.

Calles looked at the crumpled papers in hishand. Studying the sheets of bond stock, his expression

became puzzled and then changed to a frown.Frustrated, Calles looked up at Rocky, who held

an aerosol can. A cloud of pepper spray blew into Callesface. He screamed and his hands went to his eyes.


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Rocky took hold of Calles necktie and fed it tothe paper feeders. The Heidelberg Prince was the per-fect accomplice. Its hisses and rattles sounded happy

like a feeding beast, jerking and pulling Calles into itsthoughtless embrace.

Rocky stepped back and watched.

My God, no, Calles screamed, still blinded.Using his left hand he tried to push away, but grabbedthe spinning ywheel. Momentum pulled his arm in-

side the spokes. His left forearm snapped, severed atthe elbow.

Something wet hit Rockys face. He brushedhis cheek and blood smeared on his ngers. He tastedit and watched the mechanical assassin pull its victimcloser to its jaws. Calless body jerked and bobbed likea badly designed mechanical component.

Calles struggled, screaming curses; the Princepulled him closer to the opening and closing of its jaws.Fed like a sheet of paper, Calless head exploded un-der tons of pressure. The radio played Rufus ThomasWalking the Dog in Spanish, and Calles legs acted outthe lyrics.

Windmill arms cut into Calless neck; their wip-ing motion ung a bloody spray against the wall. ThePrince labored and smoke coiled around motor casing.It struggled against the bony structure of the alien thatnow inhabited it.

Announcement sheets lay on the oor. Thesplattered silhouette of a black necktie was superim-

posed on each.Rocky walked to the complimentary coffee ma-

chine and removed another paper cup from the stackand poured fresh coffee. Sipping, he turned to look athis work. The press worked dispassionately, chewing,


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its metal bowels grumbling at the tedium of its labor.

Rocky looked on with a resigned languor. Callesmight have been a nice guy. He could have boughtRockys services to do Cruz. But he probably lackedthe capacity for hate and survival that Cruz possessed.Rocky was an ex-Marine, now disabled, but still lookedat himself as a soldier. A mercenary, he worked foranyone whod pay him.

Satised, he stepped to the wall and with his

nger lifted a teardrop of blood and brought it to hismouth. Exhaling a sigh of pleasure, he raked his tongueacross his lips to extract a nal savor.

He gathered his hat and walked out the door.Through the windows, his passing gure was dividedinto rectangles by the security bars that protected theshop. Broken into rough geometry, his black shape

looked like a sinister David Hockney graphic.

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2012 the in-Ko-Pah Spirit - 12 Pages