Life - Message From The Past

20-The Great Plan

Pueblo Antiguo (Ancient Village)

After ending the call with Madeline a thought that could only be described as miraculous in nature entered Pete's mind. He decided to wait until morning to break Jeremy out. "I'm a genius." He laughed as he retreated to the exit of Hospital Reforma and to the streets of Oaxaca. "A little food and some sleep and tomorrow...the great escape!"

The bearded man found his space in the Oaxaca nightlife. His friendly outgoing personality combined with his fluency with the language made it seem as if he had lived there all his life. Pete went throughout the night talking to the locals trying to find a place his grandmother spoke about. A place he knew only as Pueblo Antiguo. The Ancient village.

For Pete, a natural conversationalist, information seemed to flow his way. His clothing never looked like a tourist and his beard drew people to him like a magnet. He would never press too hard for knowledge and would buy a round for the table before he moved on.

Late into the night, Pete's idea seemed to be more illusion than substance and he sat at the end of the bar talking about his friend to himself. "Boss, I want you around for many more years. After all who else would tell me not to chase the Thompson twins." He had to laugh at that thought.

The owner of the pub walked to the end of the bar, nodded to the bearded stranger, and poured two shots of his finest sipping tequila. "You, I have never seen before and I know every local drunk, drink scammer, and regular ever to walk through my door. Except tonight. So either you are a friend or someone I should ask to leave." The man watched Pete raise his head.

"Friend." Pete looked at the tavern owner with a tiredness the man knew as a traveler. "Solo un amigo que busca el hogar de infancia de mi abuela." Just a friend searching for the childhood home of my grandmother.

The owner's eyes were stuck to Pete. "Drink, you will find no answers here." Then he raised the shot glass. "¡Al centro!"

Pete raised his glass but lowered it again. "I can not drink to health when my friend is dying." He shook his head. "Mi amigo!"

"So the story of your grandma's village. A lie?" The owner gave a gesture of 'I knew it' to Pete.

"No, not a lie. I just forgot the name of her village...Pueblo Antiguo, or something." He countered. "I need to find it for my friend."

The owner made the sign of the cross and looked to the heavens before speaking slowly. "I know the village you speak of." He took another sip of the smooth tequila. "It is no longer there." He shrugged. "Well, it is there but no one lives there."

Pete shook his head before taking a sip of the tequila. "Senor?!" The bearded man's eyes lit up.

The owner smiled as he took a napkin from the bar top and made a rudimentary map. "Aquí. Here!" He pointed to the X on the napkin. "Go there. Maybe you will find God. So now, we will drink to your friend's health."

Both the owner and Pete raised their glasses and echoed each other's cheer. "¡Al centro!"

The owner handed Pete keys to his old truck. "The truck ~ it is not much ~ but it will get you there."

"I can't take your truck." Pete put the keys down.

"You will never get anyone to drive you there." The owner nodded. "I tell you what. You need to sleep. Go down the hall."