Tales Of The Gurrier

The Crimson Navel

Late at night when the gringos scare their children to sleep they tell them tales of the ‘Crismon a Nivel’, The Crimson Navel. Many stood against them some like Zorro found fame, others like The Crimson Navel infamy.

“So this is where it will end Barbarossa eh? Hah! You are undone by your evil at last for it is I, The Crimson Navel. Red of belly and steeled of nerve on this day evil shall perish against the might of justice.”

“Seňor Navel we are trying to build a railway here.”

“Hah! To oppress the beaten down people of a once great nation. To stamp out the flame of liberty that gutters in the shadows and terrifys your Royalist masters?”

“No to bring much needed prosperity and infrastructure to an economically depressed area. You see your problem Seňor Navel is you always see issues in black and white. Yes it is true to say that some high placed individuals will benefit financially from the construction and operation of this railroad but one has to look at this in the broader aspect.”

“Your silver tongued devilry will do you no good here Barbarossa. These are the honest plains of California not the subtle, false pretences of the Spanish court.”

“Stop that Seňor please those are high explosives. Seňor please it is not safe to handle those without the proper training.”

“Hold your tongue charlatan The Crimson Navel stays his hand for no one save God himself. These sticks of gelignite are but hammers of justice in my han”

The explosion rocked the valley floor filling the air with great clouds of choking red dust. When the dust cleared Seňor Barbarossa climbed from behind a rock outcrop where he had taken cover and dusted himself off.

“A shame such a nice man really. Not cut out for this hero of the people nonsense. I think he would have made a marvellous public defender. Plenty of spirit but misdirected.”

“Kaff, Kaff”

“Good lord sir you live!”

“Kaff to fight, kaff, another kaff, day, kaff, kaff. You win this time Barba…oh god where are my legs?”

“Stay still Seňor do not move I will summon my physician immediately”

“I need those legs. There is a masked ball on the 25th. I have promised Lady Aguilera to accompany her as chaperon. Kaff.”

“Si Seňor, now my physician he comes. He will attend to your wounds.”

“Unhand me foreign devil. I will take treatment only from the strong stout hearted yeomen of this hamlet you have oppressed for so long. See how they welcome me with open arms as a brother to their cause of liberte.”

“Seňor they do not seem friendly to me. I think the explosion may have injured the village donkey.”

“Quiet fool, you try to twist their rough hewn peasant faces into visages of cruelty and anger but it is I who know that cruelty of the spirit is a far uglier sin and that beauty of the soul is far deeper than beauty of the skin”

“As you wish Seňor. I will take my leave of you. Until we meet again Seňor Navel.”

“Yes that’s it Barbarossa you whipped cur. Flee from the power of the people. Flee from the bubbling stream of freedom that will soon become a raging unstoppable torrent! Ah my brothers in arms how good it is to. Ouch careful my brother you caught me with your stout gardening implement I, oh I say I need that leg. Wait let us pause here to sing a rousing song of confraternal union. Together we stand in ahhhh brother your foot is, accchhhimpeding my…accchhhh breathing…”

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This very weak piece of Flickr Fiction was scribbled down in a rush as I’m off on holidays. Not enough time and a cliched idea but I still like the title.

Inspired by Crismon a Nivel by Flickr user Jose Manuel Torriatte. Must dash , got to catch a plane will update other participants when I can.

This entry was posted on Friday, July 14th, 2006 at 3:13 pm and is filed under Flickr Fiction. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.