Death by armadillo. It was something like this, only more guttural, that struck me like a hot tomato against a brick wall. A vulture circled high above me, as the Sonoran desert sky swallowed me up. This was the calm before the storm.
The weightless moment flipped away from me and my body tensed as it curled in anticipation of the inevitable impact. Over cooked asphalt was now rapidly approaching. At least I was smart enough to wear my leather riding outfit.
My helmet made a deadening thud as it collided with the pavement. I slid across what now seemed to be less of a 2 lane highway and more of a human cheese grader. My limp body skittered to a halt and I continued to lay there motionless, like a fat kid in a food coma. It reminded me of the time, in my formative years, that I ate a Costco sized barrel of cheesy poofs and lay miserable and helpless on the living room floor. Unfortunately, this time around there was a lot less cheese dust and a lot more pain.
The impact hit my chest like a cannonball and knocked my breath all the way back to Egress Island, it made me wish I’d never left home, but only for a moment. The dry desert air enveloped me and quickly evaporated the haze from my mind.
The dust settled and the damage assessment began.
Starting with my toes and progressing upwards, I gently moved each body part one at a time.
Most were in surprisingly good condition. My chest and hands were the only areas that gave me cause for concern. After establishing that my back and neck weren’t injured I sat up for a closer inspection. The leather was frayed and scratched but it had held up fairly well and done it’s job protecting my skin.
I was one lucky son of a gun. I might be black and blue tomorrow but I’d walk away from this, even if it was at the pace of a senior citizen. The poor armadillo, on the other hand, could now most accurately be described as roadkill soup. And unless I wanted to be the second course, I needed to get up.
I slowly peeled myself off the road and staggered to my feet. A faded welcome sign stood close by, mocking me. It read welcome to Piel Fria, Population 106. My Spanish is rusty but I believe that means cold skin. Some old settler must have gotten a kick out of that. This place is hotter than a jalapeños armpit.
It was this heat combined with the post adrenaline come down that drove me to seek comfort in something that would change my life forever, a cold beer, at the first place I could get it. I picked up my bike, which now had some added character, and putted down the highway at a slow and beleaguered pace.
I only made it a few miles down the road before a dirty shack of an oasis, or a bikers mirage, came into view. If you were too exhausted from the heat to lift your head, all you had to do was follow the trail of bar tar to the entrance. Neon letters waved at me through the dry air, they read “The Lizard Tail”.
I have to admit, it was aptly named. For those who don’t know, a lizard tail, once removed, will keep moving and curling as if it were still attached to the main body. It will stubbornly stay alive far longer than it should, and in a way this dive bar seemed to have that same quality. Still, at the end of the day it’s basically a disembodied lizard butt.
I caught a few sideways glances as I limped to the bar. I don’t blame them, I know I looked like I’d been on the state route slip and slide from hell, but I didn’t say a word. There are some moments that require a drink before you can talk. The old timer to my left looked like he’d had about 10 thousand of those. He patiently waited until I’d been served until he spoke.
“Rough day?” he asked
“Yea I took a spill up the road, an armadillo ran out it front of me” I said as I took a gulp out of a frosted mug
“At least you walked away” he said as he tapped a metallic prosthetic where his right leg used to be.
“I was lucky, thank god… was it a motorcycle accident?” I asked
“There was a motorcycle crash involved, but that’s not what took my leg from me.”
“That sounds like an interesting story, do you mind telling me what did?”
“It damn sure wasn’t an armadillo…”
We sat in silence for a moment before he continued. “Your going to think I’m crazy, but I’m too old to care about that.” he laughed. “We have a saying in this town”, “The stones are watching”, “I’ve heard it ever since I was a kid. I used to think it had something to do with the fact that we’re in the middle of no where with nothing but rocks to keep us company, but it’s actually much more literal than that. Not all the stones are watching, that’s an exaggeration, but there is one that watches. Eyes that open where they shouldn’t.”
“You’re pulling my leg” I glanced down at his prosthetic, maybe that was a poor choice of words.
“I kid you not, I tumbled into a cactus when I crashed that night. I was messed up pretty bad, I didn’t even try to move. My body was twisted like a pretzel and as I laid there with my neck craned over, facing a pile of rocks, a pair of yellow eyes opened. They were expressive, smiling at me, like a cats eyes when they’re fixed on a mouse.”
“What do you think it was, a coyote?” I asked
“No, no, not a chance. For one, the eyes were far too large, and secondly… well I’m sure you’ve heard that the eyes are the windows to the soul”.
“Yea I’ve heard that.”
“These were a bottomless pit, but they sparked with intelligence, that was the most disturbing thing about them. They made me feel claustrophobic, like I was in a dark tunnel that had no light at the end of it, only hateful looming eyes. I fell into the darkness and that’s the last thing that I remember. The doctors said I’d passed out from the pain and lost my leg because of complications from the accident, but I don’t think so. I don’t remember my leg being mutilated before I passed out. I believe those eyes hypnotized me and whatever mouth belonged to them ate my leg, piece by piece. A state patrol officer happened to find me, he called in the ambulance and saved my life. He said he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary when he got there. I have no doubt that all he saw were rocks and sand.”
“That’s a pretty fantastic story”, I said, “I don’t mean any offense but are you sure you weren’t just hallucinating? You were probably in shock.”
“No offense taken, I’d probably draw that conclusion if I hadn’t experienced it first hand. Do you have any experiences with the supernatural?”
“No I don’t.”
“I have a friend that says she grew up in a haunted house. I used to roll my eyes when I heard claims like that. She would describe impossible things, a dark haired woman that walked through walls, unexplainable footsteps, doors slamming, the whole nine yards. I understand people being skeptical when they’ve never experienced anything supernatural themselves, but if you do find yourself in a situation that’s beyond belief then your only left with 2 options. You can either do your best ostrich impression and stick your head in the sand, or admit to yourself that truth really is stranger than fiction.”
I leaned forward on the bar and propped my head up with my hand. The pendulum of energy had swung from the jarring panic of a motorcycle accident to the heavy eye lids of a slight buzz.
“Maybe I’ll have my own experience one day. On second thought, maybe I don’t want one, they say ignorance is bliss right.”
The old man just looked at me with a curious smile on his face. Something was off, why did he look expectant, what was he waiting on. As my suspicions grew, a dead silence crept up on me from behind. I was submerged in a rising tide of isolation, none of the other patrons were making a sound, and I felt all their eyes on my back.
“Well thank you for the interesting conversation, but I better get on down the road.” I tried to sound casual.
I left a 10 on the bar and turned to stand but an unnatural heaviness constricted my muscles. My legs turned to jello, and the blood rushed to my head as if it were infused with helium. For the second time that day I fell flat on my face.
Anesthesia coiled around my mind, and darkness took me.
I awoke in agony. Fine needles punctured and pressed into my skin. My body was begging for relief from a hundred different places.
My eyes wrestled against dried tears and dust until they slowly gained the upper hand.
A silvery glow surrounded me. I was outside, laying awkwardly in a large bed of cactus. I gingerly attempted to get up but my right ankle screamed in protest. I strained my head to get a glimpse of it and my stomach turned at the sight of a compound fracture. From the knee down my right leg was ruined.
The crazy old mans story floated up through my memories. Why does it seem like they beat the life out of me just to recreate his old accident.
Whatever the reason, all I can do is roll with the punches, until I find an opportunity to counter.
A missing element from the old mans story teased the primordial part of my mind.
Two faint yellow glows slowly revealed themselves in my peripherals. Now the scene was complete. I was a kid all over again, scared to look in the corner of my room. There’s an unwritten rule that if you don’t acknowledge the monster, if you never look at it, then it’s not there, it doesn’t exist.
With gritted teeth I fixed my eyes straight ahead.
“I know you see me” said a voice that sounded disturbingly familiar.
“Uhh yea, I was trying to ignore you but regardless, I have a hunch that it’s in my best interest if I don’t look.”
“You’ve lost a lot of blood, you won’t last much longer.” said the voice
“Why do you sound just like me? It’s a little off putting.”
“There are few things man loves more than to hear his own voice.”
“I don’t think that applies in this situation.”
“I could change my voice if that makes you more comfortable.”
“I appreciate your concern for my comfort but what I really want is for you to get out of my head…”
“You caught on quick, and telepathy’s really not so intrusive. There are levels to this, for now just think of me as a visitor.”
“A visitor huh? Well what’s the occasion.”
“Cleanliness and harmony. This is my providence and ultimately everybody has orders.”
“Are you going to eat me?”
“Eat you” the voice laughed “No, that’s barbaric.”
“So I guess the old man was wrong about one thing at least.”
“Ahh the old man, I thought that was a nice touch… I must admit he was inspired by real circumstances, not so different from your own.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do I need to spell it out for you? None of that was real. You came through my desert, wrecked your little motorcycle, and fell into a cactus. I was just having a little fun while I waited for you to wake up”
“What are you?”
“I’m the wind, for all your concerned. The important question to ask is do you want to live?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Good, I can help you, but it comes with a small price.”
“Name it.”
“Invite me in, let down your defenses, and let me be a guest in your mind. I’ll leave everything just as I found it. You can go on living your life, and one day, when the time is right, I’ll call in a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“I don’t have the authority to tell you that.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Work is not the right word.. Who am I loyal to would be more accurate.”
The yellow eyes slammed shut, like an attic door released too soon.
There was no movement that could be seen. There was however, a low rumble and a soft vibration that seemed to be slowly building. A motorcycle. Yes I could see the light growing, if only he could see me I might be saved.
The sound of the mechanical roar was now unmistakable. It sounded like freedom, if only I could grab onto it.
A yellow glow appeared from behind me.
“Let me in”
“NO”
Rubber locked and screamed in rebellion. Metallic clangs and a deep thud immediately followed. My hope was cruelly transmuted into despair.
Someone or something burst through the bushes in front of me at a violent speed. A man face down slid to a halt right next to me. My mouth hung open in disbelief.
The man groaned and muttered a few curse words.
“Are you ok?” I asked
The man recoiled in shock. “What the hell?” he said.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you, it’s probably pretty weird me laying here.”
His eyes now fixed on my shattered leg and motorcycle beyond me. “O man your leg..”
“Yea… Quick question for you, do you see any yellow eyed monsters anywhere? Keep in mind I’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“No, thankfully I don’t see any monsters.” He said as he pulled out hit phone and dialed 911.
“Did you happen to hit an armadillo?” I asked.
“Yea sure did, poor little guy ran right out in front of me.”
I nodded my head in response. “They’ve got a real problem around here.”