The Osita Cycle: Part Six

June 3, 1998 (Rubia)

Chapter 6
Dedicated to Salvador - Buena Suerte en El Salvador!

Laurie awoke with a start. Her vision hazy and her head pounding, she slowly untangled her clenched fingers from the upholstery of her seat. Where was she? Why was she all alone? Suddenly it all came back to her....the trauma of Salvador's first attempt at landing an airplane. "That good-for-nothing tree-hugging twit!" she muttered to herself, briefly dropping her ever-so-politically-correct veneer. "It's a miracle that I'm alive! Doesn't he realize that I could sue the pants off him?"

"Oh great! You're finally awake! You've gotta come out here and see this for yourself!" Andres stood in the open emergency exit of the plane, anxiously beckoning to her. "You were out for at least a couple hours, but thank God you're here now, because I was beginning to think I was the only one left in the cult that hadn't gone absolutely insane!"

Laurie joined him at the exit and stared in shock at the sight that lay before them.

Jefe was perched atop a nearby palm tree, sporting a black beret and madly waving a cuban flag.

"What on earth is he shouting about?" asked Laurie. Andres shook his head in disbelief. "It seems that his little fascination with Che Guevara has gone overboard....he's been up there espousing communist slogans and pledging his allegiance to Fidel Castro for hours! His goal right now is to organize a revolutionary force to bring back to Canada that will help him overthrow the upper echelons of management at Newbridge!"

"Dios Mio!" Laurie cried. She turned to stare in the opposite direction, and her jaw dropped in horror once again. "That can't be who I think it is! Not Roger!"

"Yes, unbelievable as it is, it's true." Andres pointed to where Roger was leading a group of campesinos in sickeningly familiar movements. "He's lost all memory of any sort of respectable latin american dance. You remember how good he was at salsa? Merengue? Cumbia? Not anymore. It breaks my heart to say it, but 'El Rey de la Noche' has become 'El Rey de la Macarena!"

Laurie tried to watch as Roger and his macarena devotees swiveled their hips and did their little jump turns, but it was too much to bear. She looked away, only to see Salvador run past the plane with a big bag in his hand and a crazed look on his face.

"He's the one I'm REALLY concerned about." Andres whispered to her. They watched in horror as he opened up his bag and began tossing the contents in all directions. "He's been running around littering for hours! And that's not just ordinary garbage....it's all horrendously non-bio-degradable! Those tetra-pak drinking box things! The plastic loops that hold a 6-pack of pop together! Baby diapers! I think he's lost his mind...and she's no better!"

Erika appeared behind Salvador and began picking up the garbage as it fell from his hands. Laurie peered at her more closely, and realized that she was wearing a frilly apron, frumpy slippers, and curlers in her hair. "What has gotten into HER?" She exclaimed.

"She's become a completely domesticated housewife! She's been borrowing some peasant's kitchen to bake cookies in her barefeet, and most recently she's taken to cleaning up all Salvador's messes. The worst part of all is that she hasn't said two words the entire time. She just smiles, nods, and does everything anyone asks of her!"

"But it's Erika we're talking about! Why isn't she yelling at him to stop it? Why isn't she ordering us to come up with a plan?" Laurie sank to her knees and clutched her head in her hands. "It just can't be! It's like the world has succumbed to complete chaos! What's wrong with all of them?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out." Andres answered. "At first I thought old Salvador had shared one too many of his gourmet mushrooms. But now I fear that there is something much more sinister at work here!" He pointed to an empty plate dotted with brown crumbs that was sitting on the ground beside the plane. "All I know is that I was out cold like you, and when I woke up they were all outside gathered around a pretty blond lady who was handing out brownies. By the time I got there, those pigs had eaten every one!"

"The brownie lady! Is no one immune to Vito's infectious evil? She must be one of his double-agents, just like Dina. And those brownies must have contained some kind of mind-altering drug! Vito is close to us, Andres. Very close. I can almost smell his cheap cologne."

"You may be right! When I was out walking around before you woke up, I wandered into that little village over there to get myself a stiff shot of tequila. You'll never guess what the name of the bar is.......Tango 69!" (Author's note for those who didn't come to Havana: this is Vito's actual Email address!) "And come to think of it, there were all these names carved into the wall of the bar - two of the names I saw were Vito and Dinorah! I thought it a coincidence at the time, but..."

"That's no coincidence! Haven't you read the Celestine Prophecy? That bar is his lair, his hovel, his den of evil. Dinorah must be captive there! God, I only hope she isn't pregnant yet!"

"We must save her! Vamanos!"

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