Total Consciousness

Chapter-1: The Killing ….

     Luz inhaled the sweet fear pumping through the young woman. Her desperate fragrance sang to him from the east, causing him to close his eyes and lift his chin up. He savored each mouthwatering breath, holding his lungs full and relishing the frigid midnight air that burned over Madera, Chihuahua.  Focus on your goal, he thought, just look away and keep walking up the mountain. 

     More of her hatred sizzled through the darkness. Luz licked his lips and lost his balance for a step. He looked over his right shoulder and peered into the woods. The woman struggled close by, a handful of kilometers away. He grimaced and side glanced at his four-legged assistant, Cana. 

     “I have my own battle to fight,” said Luz. “Why would I stop?” He shook his head at his assistant and continued to the summit—whistling with each determined step, up the dew grass road, up the pine covered mountain.

     Cana muttered a growl and shook his head.

     “Don’t you see? We’re halfway to the top, jovencito.” Luz rubbed his cheekswith the back of his cold hand.

     Enchanted music played above their heads. The piccolo drum beat warmed Luz’s face as he turned to his massive pit-bull and winked at him with a playful smirk.

     The music ended and started up again. Luz whistled and sang a portion of the Mejia song that only he and his assistant could hear: a song of El Pastor.

     How many times have I sung this song? thought Luz. He couldn’t remember the count. Instead, he searched beyond his hell hound and considered the woman for a few breaths more. He stared at her with hellish concentration, tasting over his rich curiosity.

     He consumed her sticky heat, and he grinned with an asymmetrical smile. The woman’s pain sent goose bumps up his chest, forcing him to inhale deeper, and to flare his nostrils with more want.

     “She’s none of my business.” Luz shook his head and returned to his whistling for several long breaths. He continued walking, but he slowed his pace. “I don’t need to,” he said with a spark in his green eyes, “but … she …” He pressed out his black mustache, and he scratched at his neat sideburns along his firm jaw.

     The night reverberated with a chipper-fluttering tune, intermixed with marching heart beats. A sea of memories flooded over Luz’s body: of battles, of wars and of men and of women filled with tangy evil. He brought his gaze back to his hell hound assistant. More memories shook loose, of other mid-nights, sweet rum and red apples.

     He considered his memories as he looked over his devoted companion.

     Apart from being a huge pit bull, the hound’s chestnut coat glowed with two white lines of fur. The lines mirrored each other, following a cheetah’s tear drops and curving around Cana’s ears like two geometric paths, reflecting one another in parallel. The white lines continued and dropped forward over his thick neck. They passed his muscular chest and finished at his firm belly.

     Luz glanced up at the mountain peak and grinned with a disconcerting look. He stopped whistling and slowed his steps some more. His thoughts hammered around in his mind, trying to chisel away at his odd feelings and memories.

     Nothing emerged from his sculpted thinking. Instead, he looked up and inhaled three quick breaths and resumed his whistling.

     Several blinks later, Luz added a humming tune in between his fluttering exhales as he lowered his gaze and returned to his original walking pace. His steady speed did not last long. Step after step, he walked faster as he aimed with urgency for the top of the mountain.

     1821 is different, Luz thought, my fight in Palomas will be different from all the other years. This one, this is it, this is my year. He gazed over his shoulder, and beyond his assistant, and scanned the night sky. A dream of the future played out in his heart, and he drifted on his thoughts of victory, careful not to stumble.

     A trip of warm waves shivered up his legs and up through his heart. The sudden sensation startled Luz, causing him to hold his breath for a few seconds. He slowed his steps once again and tilted his bone white gambler hat back. How strange, he thought as he failed to hold back a tiny honest smile. A new wonderment grew in his mind. Would you look at that? He narrowed his eyes and continued to expand his senses all around him.

     Cana trailed his master in smooth soundless steps. He sniffed and analyzed the air, and glanced between Luz and the struggle to the east. His canary yellow eyes brightened as he looked deeper through the Chihuahua woods. The increase in power from his gaze left the mountain creatures feeling naked and breathless, trapped within a scolding grip of fire.

     Luz slammed to a stop mid stride, holding still in a very peculiar stance. He formed an isosceles triangle with his legs, while his arms extended mid swing—one forward and one backward.

     The abrupt pose raised the thick fur on Cana’s back. He barked twice. No response. He rushed in close and examined his master.

     All seemed in order with Luz: tall, muscular, short black wavy hair, dressed in coal black pants, and wearing a dark-green vicuña coat that reached mid-thigh. And, beyond his usual scent of lilacs, Luz smelled of citrus and cedar, and of midnight past eternity.  

     Cana held his jaws open and licked his fangs with dissatisfaction. He continued his inspection with finer detail, glancing over his master’s pearl white boots, his white collared shirt and his bone white gambler hat. Better. All appeared normal. All smelled in proper place.

     Cana sighed and relaxed a bit. He scrunched his nose up twice and stretched his jaw muscles, opening his mouth wide and wider still. He waited.

     Luz moved slowly as though under water, bringing his feet and arms together. He pressed out his mustache with deliberate fingertips and tried not to show too much excitement.

     “What a curious thing.” Luz eased his heart into a gentle rhythm. “Have you noticed the night sky to the east, jovencito?”

     Cana barked and turned his curiosity to the eastern sky. It all seemed normal, nothing out of place. He side glanced back at his master and chomped at the air twice, and squinted with a curious doubt. Still, his nose wiggled with interest a few times more. The scent from the eastern air urged him to check once more.

     This time Cana noticed the difference after a deeper sniff of the midnight Chihuahua air. The stars did not blink. The crescent moon glowed with a much dimmer light than normal. And there, beneath the copper red moon slice, a woman wailed on the damp earth, fading away in misery.

     The hell hound stared at the entire scene and conjectured for three long licks of air. He tilted his head up at the sky and ignored his desire to howl. Instead, he finalized his thoughts, and he settled on his analysis with firm certainty.

     Cana barked back at Luz with several adamant possibilities. Confident in his assessment, his ears angled toward his master, and he waited to be praised. Of course, he also waited for his orders to go and investigate.

     The seconds ticked away with an unbearable tock, heavy with a snail’s pace. None of that waiting mattered. No praise and no orders were given.

     More discomfort settled in as Cana strained to ignore his desire to go play. He flexed and he stretched, and he worked on easing his tension away. Fortunate for him, a scrumptious substitute filled his mind with jubilant images: of ripping apart those three little men; and of nibbling on that meaty woman for just a bit. In the end, he managed to delay himself, and he waited, like a good assistant should.

     “No, Cana, I don’t think it’s an optical illusion,” said Luz. He reanalyzed the sky and the woods. “I’m not tired or feeling sick either. It’s dim toward the east—somebody is eating up light. And, no … it has nothing … nothing at all to do with that woman on the ground.”

     Cana rose up on his hind legs and made a low gruff sound from the base of his throat. He shook himself from top to bottom; and he barked twice before landing on the ground, lighter than a down goose feather.

     A long sigh steamed out of Cana. He lifted his nose up at the red moon slice, and side glanced at Luz with a skeptical squint. In silence, he moved closer to his master, wagging his tail with a lazy calm. 

     Luz grinned as he smoothed over his neat mustache.

      “Okay, okay,” said Luz, “maybe it is because of that woman on the ground. She smells familiar. Have we …. I just can’t remember who she is. Do you recognize her, jovencito?”

     Cana faced east and dug his claws into the ground. Once more, he spied through the woods. Except, this time, he used much greater power, focusing on the woman and on the three men. The group wrestled with one another, kicking up damp soil into the nippy midnight air. They were close. The party tumbled at a distance of five kilometers away.

     The hell hound licked over his fangs, and he tasted their greedy wants—a mix of hot spice and sour butter and slippery cumin. His ears followed their rhythm. The small party grunted and sweated together in their half-covered darkness, surrounded by tall pine trees and fragrant pecan trees.

     Cana clenched his teeth and he stretched his neck left and then right. Under normal conditions reaching this group required a tiny blink through space, easily closing the distance. He looked back over his shoulder. That method of travel wasn’t allowed for his master until the end of his fight.

     The massive pit bull let out a sigh of disappointment and wiped his nose of tickling dew drops. One more bark and he shook his head, and he moved in closer to Luz.

     The hell hound rubbed up against his master’s right elbow, and he stretched into an angled wide-open yawn. Patience and more patience pumped in his muscles. Cana side glanced up at Luz and wondered how much longer it would take to go and play.

     Luz removed his hat and pressed the sides of his head with the palm of his hand. He nodded a couple of times and considered his tempting paths.

     Quiet flowed over the travelers for a handful of seconds, neither one moving a breath.

     Only a one-eyed owl dared to break the silence. It glided by with its snow-white wings fully extended. Undeterred by the two travelers, the owl released an eerie hoot and dropped a small bomb of shit, right in front of Luz. 

     “Hey, I’m thinking here.” Luz laughed as he gazed at the Snow White Owl. It flew through the cloudless sky and faded into the darkness.

     The Madera night air gave weight to his breath. Mist appeared and drifted away as Luz yawned and stretched his arms up, and reached behind his head. He whistled for a long breath and placed his hat back on his head.

     Cana followed his master’s lead with hopeful anticipation. He yawned and exposed his thick white fangs, adding his own heat to the cool dark around them. He stretched and shook himself and flexed his back. More hunger moved within him—growing and tingling, beckoning him to pounce into action. Still, he needed to resist, and so he did.

     Luz allowed the moment and tasted the night with a connoisseur’s sense. The lustful musk of temptation sung a honeyed melody all around him, irresistibly melting the flavors of the night upon his tongue. He gave in and devoured it all with no judgment. The desperate sweet-salt-sweat of anger, mixed with the pepper-tart taste of forceful-selfish lust. It all burst together, gushing into an insane perfume of mutual hatred and death, and desire.

     The aroma reminded Luz of a discarded July afternoon: of a small pond next to a rose garden, surrounded by wheat grass and southern cattails, and of used up women on the side, soaking their naked feet in the warm pond. Very nice, he thought.

     Another stretch and Luz focused his sight on the faint glow of lamp light next to the energetic men. How nice indeed. He watched the men’s shadows. Their dark all blended together forming a large deformed hairy tarantula. The wretched thing cast empty darkness that danced upon the trees, creating a story of demons lost in mid festive feast—selfish and in a rush to be pleasured.

     Luz pressed out his mustache and shook his head three times. “Grab them by the ears and tell a tale,” he said with a dancing glow in his green eyes. “Hell’s dinner bells have rung. Hear them sing: ring, ting, and zing. Come three, come we; let us all dig into this late-night fling—and by the by, your belly smells of Willy Wells’ feet, Cana. It’s settled. You’ve convinced me to go talk with her … and to go play with those three men … those three little bunny men.”

     The large hound frowned and let loose a pride-hurt whine. Cana glanced up at his master with a stiff neck and chomped at the night, and licked over the back of his upper teeth.

     Luz reached over and caressed the broad top of Cana’s head, massaging down to his upper muscular back.  

     “Not for long though,” said Luz. He stepped to the east. “We can’t get sidetracked often. Walking takes too long. Otherwise, at this rate, we’ll never reach Jalisco in time. We can’t always stop to smell the grape red roses of the night—no matter how sweet and juicy they may be.”

     Cana closed his eyes and loosely held his jaws shut. He concentrated for several long breaths, allowing his power to flicker about him in electric jolts. Waves of manic heat triple pulsed and spread out from him.

     A deep growl rumbled up from Cana’s closed jaws. He lowered his head, and his presence expanded and faded into the heavy darkness around him. Glowing ruby eyes opened and sparkled with an immense death glow, while the rest of his body blended in with the surrounding shadows.

     At the same time that Cana faded into the night’s darkness, all living creatures within a three-kilometer radius scattered from around them: birds, woodland beasts and even insects desperately sprinted or flapped away—horrified by the breathing shadows.

     Luz stretched his arms above his head and glided them down to his sides. All calm, all still. And, in quick movements, he flicked his hands forward three times and flipped pages only visible to himself. Several turns and he rose up onto his toes and pressed his index finger forward, and then he dragged it to the right. Gradually, more music emerged in the night and replaced the yet to be Mejia song.

     The space above the two travelers filled with a much deeper and anguished and desperate tune. Cana looked above his master’s head and grinned. It was a new song from the others. His ruby eyes glistened, and his phantom tongue lapped at the air with delight. Overwhelmed by such power, he looked at his master with awe.

     Luz sidestepped into a slow strut and whistled along with the new melody for several easy breaths. “People think the killing moon is a full moon,” he said, as he stared at the woman on the ground, five kilometers away.

     Cana expanded his shadow-form deeper into the night.

     “I disagree, jovencito,” said Luz. “Tsk, tsk, tsk … it’s a crescent moon with a smudge of copper red, on a dim lit night, filled with fear and hatred, and copious amounts of bloodlust and lust.”

     With the new song echoing stronger, Luz searched into each man, into each little thumping bunny man that surrounded the woman.

     “Same set up as before, jovencito,” said Luz. “Cover the rear and both flanks. No surprises while I walk in from the front. Anyone tries to leave without permission: chomp, chomp and bring them back.”

     Cana glided forward in his shadow form, eager to investigate the small group of four.

     Luz gazed at the crescent moon and breathed deep in. He exhaled slowly and let loose his grip upon the world. Filled with reflected hunger, he leaned back into a pleasant stride, whistling and singing along to, The Killing Moon.

Thank you

     I appreciate your time in reading this blog post. Next Saturday I will upload the first part of Chapter Two: Dream A Little More, from my second novel: Luz Upon The World.

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