I can’t help it. The first thing I think of as she is doing the pimp limp ankle drag up to the stone stepping path at the front of my house with her tit out and her dress ripped to shit, revealing the entirety of her leg, hip, panties and mid-section is, “Damn she has a perfect body, such long limbs.”
And I wonder what it would have been like to fuck her. To have her climb on top of me with those oh so long legs. How big her butterscotch nipples might grow when enticed. Heaving with ecstasy, would she sound something similar to the current cave woman noises she’s making now?
I wondered about the shape of her vagina, the depth of it. Would it be a perfect fit, suctioning down onto me? I mean, not all vaginas are created equally. Some are beautiful. Some are not. Some are innies. Some are outies. Some glisten like they were just shined up with strawberry pink lip gloss. Other unfortunate vaginas get dubbed “Meat flaps”, or “Jerky curtains”. So I wonder, I wonder what it would have been like to rail her before her eyes changed to that blind man blue color.
What brings me out of my brief, distinctly man style reverie, is the sight of the three other sound makers that must have been attracted to the noises Marcela has been making. They’re coming on much too fast to have been there for long. They are three of my Nicaraguan neighbors from a half block down. Very dark skinned. Not quite black, but, Moreno. All three built short and squat, with the pot bellies that accompany 40 year old beer schwillers.
Marcela is now only fifteen feet from me, but, they will still arrive first. They are running and its’ only fifty or so yard in distance. So I decide to act first. I take three or four long bounds towards Marcela, un-sheathing the machete at the same time, which puts me within striking distance. Being so close to her I see the distinctive oval shape of a bite mark on the outside of her right shoulder. Also, being so close seems to set off a new kind of fury in her that I had yet to see. Her whole body convulses, arms extended with hands bent into claws.
The way she surges at me is like a rag doll being whipped while held at the feet. Her legs and hips basically stay in the same position. But, her whole upper body sways at a steep angle backward, then, slings forward with her teeth bared and claws swiping. The force of it reminds me of the end of a whip when it curls and then lashes.
The machete goes cleanly through the forearm of her closest arm, severing it as she lunges. It was a side armed upward swing that followed through to land in the middle of her mouth, knocking out all of her front teeth and slicing through her cheek.
The force of the blow topples her over, and she lands flat on her back. Incredibly she flips herself over onto her belly and starts to push herself up with her remaining arm, attempting to gain her feet again.
Awe struck at the speed in which she had just moved, I drive the point of the machete through her back without hesitation, drilling her back down to the ground. This time she doesn’t move again. I look up and wade on towards the others.
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