chapter 7
“Bah! You are mad,” Garcia said in disgust to his helpless prisoner. Ramón was frustrated because his oldest friend, his oldest enemy, was not begging for mercy the way Garcia had imagined he would.
Ramón could break Pedro’s flesh, but it seemed that he could not break his spirit. It was as if his old friend’s spirit was unfettered, impregnable, and forever free to fly on flights of fancy. It was as if his old enemy’s spirit was protected from harm by being sprinkled with pixie dust made of pure, sparkling, lunacy.
“Do you think this is a fairy tale?” Ramón growled as he slapped Pedro’s face.
Pedro took the blow, then slowly, laboriously, raised his head. “Tick-a-tock, tick-a-tock,” he rasped. “Fairy tales are what I used to tell my son when I put him to bed, with my wife at my side,” he murmured, through a bloody smile. No blow had been able to rattle Ramirez, but his voice began to crack at the thought of his family. “We two are like characters in my son’s favorite fairy tale, the story of Peter Pan.”
“Is that what this madness is all about?” Garcia asked, in an astonished whisper. He leaned closer. “You think I am Captain Hook…and you are Peter Pan?”
“Of course not,” Pedro said, with a feeble laugh. “Don’t be foolish. That would be insane,” he scoffed.
“You are Captain Hook,” said Pedro, “and I am…the Crocodile.”
Hidden inside Pedro Ramirez’s belly, the timer from a child’s toy finished ticking.
The chain of explosions that destroyed the warehouse lit up the night, and could be heard for miles around.
– The End –
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