Free Mexican Ghost Tales of the Southwest by Alfred Ávila Page A

much. In my loneliness and terror, after years of waiting to find peace and rest, I havebecome the monster that I am, killing to take revenge on those who brought me to this desolate place!”
    The cat crept closer as it was talking to the old sailor. The man walked with the torch in front of him to prevent the cat from attacking. The cat tried to gain an advantageous position. The old sailor moved backward into the cactus patch.
    The cat followed slowly, sometimes yowling in frustration. It wanted to rip this sailor to pieces but was unable to reach him. The cat became furious when the sailor went deep into the patch. It was too big to get around the cactus trunks.
    â€œMr. Sailor! Mr. Sailor! Come here!” it screamed. The cat knew it could not get to the sailor. It could change itself back into a fireball, but it could not do any harm in that form.
    The sailor crouched in the cactus, waiting for the demon cat’s next move. It charged at the cactus. It yowled and leaped back in pain when it hit the cactus pads covered with sharp thorns.
    It stood there on the road staring at the sailor in the flickering light of his torch. The large cat nervously paced back and forth on the dirt road. It yowled and screeched in frustration. As the morning sun lightened the sky, the growling cat faded to nothing.
    The old sailor had a hunch. He started to slowly search the floor of the cactus patch. He moved carefully among the trunks of the cacti searching through the brush, grass, and fallen pads of the cactus plants. He was pricked occasionally by the thorny plants. His torch had long burned out.
    As the skies grew brighter, the search was easier. He looked to one side. There it was, a tatteredserape faded by time wrapped around a decorated urn. He could make out white and gold cherry blossoms on the exterior of the urn.
    He had found the urn at last. He pushed off the worn serape. It fell away easily. He picked up the urn gently with his hands. He did not want to drop and damage it. The sailor carried it out of the cactus patch and went straight to the
curandera’s
house. He was tired and sleepy, but he told the healer to go with him to the village of Atoyac where a large cemetery was located.
    â€œWe must bury her before nightfall, or else we will be in trouble.”
    They both left quickly and headed for Atoyac. Once they arrived at Atoyac, they asked the village priest, Padre Juan, to help them bury the Japanese woman’s remains in the cemetery. They told him everything that had occurred, and he agreed to help them.
    After digging the burial plot at the cemetery, they were joined by other villagers. They wrapped the urn and placed it into a box. They lowered the box into the hole and covered it with earth. The people all prayed for her. The white-haired priest said a short prayer for her, praying for her eternal rest in a place so far from her homeland, Japan.
    The next day they placed a tombstone on the grave. The tombstone was inscribed “The Japanese Woman, So Far From Her Homeland Japan/Rest In Peace.” From that day on, the demon cat was no longer seen.
    As local custom demands, every year on the Day of the Dead the villagers whitewash her stone and cover her grave with marigold flowers. She is not forgotten. Although she was responsible for manydeaths, they have long since forgiven her.
    As for the old sailor, the day of the burial he returned to put some flowers on the grave and to say goodbye to the Japanese woman. He was thanked by the villagers for helping to eradicate the demon and was rewarded with a small monetary donation. He left for Acapulco, where he disappeared into the world of the cantinas.
    If you walk by the cemetery in the village of Atoyac during the evening twilight, you might hear the gentle crying of a woman in the corner of the cemetery. They say it is the Japanese woman crying in her loneliness so far from her beloved homeland.

THE BRUTISH INDIAN

THE BRUTISH INDIAN
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