Mexican Souevinirs by haak78

Revolution

Traci Kenworth

 

 

            I lined up the figurines as though they were on a chessboard, their little pointy-tipped hats and hidden faces making them seem no more than Halloween collectables.

            Welcome to the witches’ playground.

            I wanted to dance in ecstasy but held myself back.

            Mustn’t frighten any customers. No, I wouldn’t want that. Not if I wanted them to fall into my trap. Like a Venus flytrap, I waited. Watching, listening, and testing my surroundings for signs of my victim. The street fair was loud, with a continuous flow of customers to the wares displayed along the streets. On the card before me, the name of my store, Marbol Treasures was written. I smiled at a young couple who passed to consider the pieces.

            “Just a few, Jim. They’ll make good souvenirs.” The woman pulled on the man’s elbow when he would’ve walked off. “Besides, it’ll mark our anniversary,” she said to him.

            He sighed and turned. “Just a few.” Peering at the wooden carvings, he remarked, “Their, short, squat and ugly.”

            I held my grin while my hands twisted under the card table.

            Go on then. Pick them up.

            The man fingered one. As he did so, a barb similar to a bee’s stinger pricked him. A drop of blood welled up and spilled down his thumb. He grimaced and wiped the blood on the cotton tablecloth, looking at me suspiciously. “What’s this?”

            “Oh, sir. A splinter must have dug into your hand.”

            “Well, be careful what you sell to a fellow,” he said. He tugged on the woman’s arm and though she protested, led her off.

            “Thank you for your donation,” I called after them.

            He glanced back with a glare.

            I tried to hide my mirth.

            One more prick.

            Just then a family of four came up to me.

            The little girl picked up one of the figures and cried out as she was stabbed.

            Her mother pulled her close and attempted to soothe her tears. “What’s happened, Katie?”

            “It bit me, Mommy.”

            “Oh, I’m sure it’s just a little shard of loose wood,” the father said.

            “Yes, yes,” I agreed. “Here,” I motioned to one painted red and black, “take this one for your troubles.”

            Katie’s eyes widened but she accepted the gift.

            I waved after them, glancing at the last trickle of blood to fall on the leftover shapes. Quickly, I packed up, not caring that other customers hovered the street.

            My job was done.

            I watched the sky lengthen with storm clouds and the promise of heat lightning. Laughing to myself, I hurried into the store.

Soon. They would be here.

            Big fat drops splattered the window.

            Blood.

            As promised.

            “Long live the revolution,” I said aloud.

            The screams began as the shadows darted in.

           Copyright 2010, Sept. 4. tlc.

 

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