Mysterious night

San Agustin is a small lonely church near the Capo River in Peru. This building was established by Spanish conquerors a long time ago, in 1591. From that time also descend the ruins of silver-mine. Mining had finished two hundred years ago, since then the mine has remained empty. The ruins slowly broke up in the deepness of the virgin forests.
Little time ago a parsonage of San Agustin had been established again. A very mysterious man moved into the parsonage. His name was Father Enrique Lopez Yourcenar and he was a priest. His last post was at the Catedral of Santiago Apóstol in Panama. From that place he had been discharged as a warlock.
In Peru Father Lopez continued his work, but his divine services were without people. They always began at midnight and lasted till the first cock-crow. At this time the windows of the church had always been closed by impenetrable curtains. The local people could tell that when Father Lopez had divine services, somebody from the nearest environment got lost. Also somebody had observed fresh blood next to the door of the church. The rarely inhabited environment avoid this place.
Once a gipsy family moved into the abandoned mine. Mr. Lincoln A. Shroud, head of the family, began to take part in Father Lopez’s services. More and more people got lost mysteriously. Inhabitants of the nearest villages abandoned their houses and fled to bigger cities, Iquitos, and Lima. The situation was strange and sinister.
After the next divine service, Cleopatra Nola Llosa, the seventeen year old daughter of a woodcutter Gregorio Nola Hernandez, one of the last inhabitants in Yaguar, got lost. Yaguar is a small village at the side of the Capo River. There were usually twenty inhabitants, but after events known to us only Mr. Nola stayed there with his family and some a one hundred and eleven year old man, Mr. Francisco Almeida y Saavedra with his young sixteen year old wife Myra and their two year old son. Mr. Almeida earned money by making aphrodesiacs for Lima’s and Callao’s restaurants. His oldest son, Mr. Diego Almeida y Santamaria was the most famous private detective in Peru. He was ninery one years old and had a lot of achievements in catching the criminals.
At that time a regrettable story happened with Ms. Cleopatra, Mr. Diego had a rest at his parents’ house in Yaguar. Mr. Nola asked him to clear up this case. They knew that usually Father Lopez had his services on a full moon. At the next full moon they decided to go to San Agustin.
The night was rarely clear. It was twenty to midnight, Mr. Diego just looked at his watch. Three men were standing in absolute silence. Mr. Almeida’s old friend, a well-known murderer who has the nickname Black Jack, was also standing with Mr. Almeida Junior and Mr. Nola. Mr. Almeida asked him to visit Yaguar and to help them. The night was ill-boding. At five to midnight Father Lopez moved from the parsonage to the church. At the same time many helicopters landed around the church and skeletons stepped out. They entered into the church. When from midnight missed only one minute, Mr. Lincoln A. Shroud arrived in a shiny “Pontiac Firebird”. At midnight the church bells began to ring. It was a very sinister night.
Three men discussed the situation. They noted that the church windows had been closed and in front of the church door was a big heavy padlock. They didn’t notice, who had locked the door.
“I have a solution,” Mr. Diego said. “There is a secret passage, which begins in the deepness of the forest. When I was a teenager, I often visited the church by that passage. Lets go!”
“This is a good idea! Quickly to the forest! Hurry!” Black Jack said.
After thirteen minutes they were already at the big stone. Under the stone was the entrance to the secret passage.
“Listen!” suddenly Mr. Almeida whispered. “Hide yourself!”
It was the last moment. One man and two skeletons arrived at the stone. Mr. Almeida knew them. They were the ex-policeman Mr. Guevara with his wife and Mr. F.D.Skeleton, Mr. Diego’s general rival. They slid the stone away and came into the passage.
“Lets go after them!” Mr. Almeida commanded his comrades and descended to the passage. Black Jack and Mr. Nola followed him.
The passage was dark and winding. It was difficult to move. The skeletons with Mr. Guevara moved as quietly as mice before the trackers. A heavy slab had slid aside and the skeletons with Mr. Guevara arrived in the church. After this the slab was slid back to its place. Three trackers set out deliberating. They decided to wait few minutes and then to slide the slab aside and to climb up. They did so.
The passage finished in the vestry of the church. Mr. Diego listened behind the door which led to an altar room. From there was heard a high-pitched clattering voice. Mr. Diego opened the door slightly. Father Lopez made a sermon.
“I call you, Satan, Prince of Darkness. The obscurantists implore you to accept our sacrifice …”
Two skeletons brought Ms. Cleopatra to the altar. Mr. Nola wanted to begin crying, when he saw that Mr. Shroud approached Ms. Cleopatra with big trenchant knife. Black Jack stopped him and closed his mouth.
“Shut up!” he whispered. “You shit me off! I must kill you.”
“Peace! Only peace!” Mr. Diego calmed them and lit a pipe. “Lets start to think!”
Unfortunately they could not think. A solution came unexpectedly. A tiny car “Zaporozetsh 965” arrived at the church and two Soviet military men got out from there. They were Colonel Ivan Ivanowitch Durakov, a military attaché of the Soviet Union in Peru and his assistant, lance-corporal Sukin. The military men came into the church.
“Fuck you face, bitch! I’m pissed off with you! You motherfucker!” Colonel Durakov said with friendliness.
“Comrade Colonel asked you to finish the ceremony,” Mr. Sukin translated.
“I don’t understand you, Mr. Durakov,” Mr. Skeleton responded him.
“Comrade colonel wants this girl for his chief at the KGB,” Mr. Sukin translated.
“I don’t know… I’m surprised …” Mr. Skeleton stammered.
“Shut up, shithead! Fuck off!” Colonel Durakov said more aggressively.
“Comrade Colonel asks you to give him this girl. Comrade Colonel asks you very urbanely. But otherwise …” Mr. Sukin translated.
“But … but … but …” Mr. Skeleton stuttered.
“Understand, our boss from the KGB needs a new mistress!” Mr. Sukin’s voice was pressing.
“But you know, if Satan wouldn’t get the sacrifice, it will be very bad for us,” Father Lopez shyly interfered with the conversation.
“It’s your business!” Mr. Sukin answered.
“Fuck you face! Quickly!” Colonel Durakov complemented him.
“I’ll give you ten seconds to decide,” Mr. Sukin bowled and began to count. “One … two … three …”
The whole church remained silent. Nobody could resolve this problem. Mr. Skeleton consulted quietly with Mr. Guevara and with small dark skeleton, Mr. Scheletro from Palermo. Mr. Scheletro had the best contacts with Sicilian Mafia and therefore had good credit among the skeletons. At the same time Colonel Durakov started to slowly pull out a revolver from a holster. Mr. Sukin followed him.
“We must come out now,” Mr. Almeida muttered and entered the altar room. He declared in a loud voice:
“Good morning, ladies and gentleman! How are you?”
“Fine, thanks!” the skeletons answered in chorus.
Mr. Sukin stared at him stupidly. Black Jack made use of this and shot the revolver at Mr. Sukin’s hand. Mr. Sukin gave a cry, his hands were bloody. The whole room seemed to be in Black Jack’s possession. His face reflected triumph as he was the boss now. He had felt this feeling already repeatedly, very often in his previous life. All that grey mass had been forced to be placed under him. Even Mr. Diego looked at him with fear, not speaking about Mr. Nola who was standing like a pillar of salt. Black Jack was a professional murderer and he knew his work well. He scratched himself with pleasure and swung the revolver. He ordered:
“Lay down your arms! … Lie down! … Hands away! … You too, Mr. Almeida!”
Everybody did as he said. In front of his feet, the arms-heap increased. In the distance, Mr. Sukin’s revolver lied in a pool of blood. Also Mr. Almeida reluctantly gave up his revolver. Only Colonel Durakov did not realized what was the matter.
“You, motherfucker! Piss off! You fuck me off!” he said confusedly.
Black Jack shot at him, but missed. Colonel Durakov whacked him a blow in the jaws and Black Jack fell down. Colonel seized his revolver and cried:
“Lance-corporal Sukin! Pisshead! Stand up! Attention! Left! Right!Left! Right! Left! Right!Lets start to sing “International”!”
They started to sing:
“Up now, whom curse depressed …”
Suddenly a squall opened the door and Ms. Gloria Hernandez Diaz came in. After her entered a small bald manikin with horns and tail.
“Welcome, Mr. Satan!” the skeletons exclaimed. They stood up and applauded. Colonel Durakov and Mr. Sukin lost their attention.
“How are you?” Mr. Satan asked politely.
“Fine, thanks!” the skeletons answered in chorus.
“You are a dickhead!” Colonel Durakov adulated and licked Satan’s tail.
Ms. Gloria was previously Mr. Diego’s mistress, but she belonged to Satan now. She recognized her ex-lover and tried to give a sign for Satan. But Satan didn’t notice her. He went to Mr. Guevara’s wife and asked:
“What a nice skeleton! What’s your name?”
“She is my mother-in-law. Her name is Mrs. Capitolina Skeleton de Guevara,” Mr. Skeleton answered for his relative.
“I congratulate you for your mother-in-law. Mrs. Skeleton, you are my new girlfriend now. Ms. Gloria, piss off!” Satan announced mildly.
“Yes, Sir!” Gloria responded. “But remember, you had a very good time with me. Diego, I am yours again, lets fuck off!”
Ms. Gloria and Mr. Diego left.
“Your Highness Satan, may I leave with my daughter? I understand that you don’t need her,” Mr. Nola asked shyly.
“OK! Piss off, if you want! … Wait! Mr. Skeleton, how many slaves you have in the coca farm? Have you got anybody else?”
“We need a lot of slaves.”
“Thanks, they are yours! And please take these two Russians and Mr. Guevara too!”
“You are crazy, Sir! We’ll work for you. The KGB will need us.” Mr. Sukin said and broke out into tears.
“You know, I’m the head of skeletons counter-espionage department. I’m very useful for our holy mission,” Mr. Guevara protested.
“Perhaps you are useful for holy mission, but not at all for my new love-affair. You, Sukin and Durakov, are just shitheads. I’m disgusted with you. I’ve spoken! This is all!” Satan declared his decision and went out with Mrs. Capitolina. The skeletons put their new slaves in irons and took them to the helicopters. After that they were flying away. Now just three persons remained in the church – Father Lopez, Lincoln A. Shroud and Black Jack.
“Its between ourselves now,” Mr. Shroud said.
“Have you got any whisky?” Black Jack asked.
“Of course! We’ve done a lot of work today. Our positions in the Mafia are wonderful and we deserved to relax now.” Father Lopez said. He went into the vestry and came back with a lot of bottles.
Tje party was culminating, when somebody knocked on the door. The participants at the party stayed to listen. After a few minutes Father Lopez went to open the door. Two men came in.
“Good morning! We’re Mr. Ferdinand B. Reichenbach and Mr. Benjamin C. Robinson from Australia. Mr. Almeida called us and asked to fly to Peru and find a church in San Agustin. We are sorry! What’s the matter?” Mr. Robinson said.
“Oho! Whom do I see! Ferdinand B. Reichenbach, the famous burglar. How are you?” Black Jack enlivened.
“Fine, thanks! And you, Mr. Black Jack?”
“Fine too, thank you very much! Where we were together in prison last?”
“I guess, it was five years ago in Macao. I robbed a bank and you killed some people in the street for amusement.”
“Yes, but you escaped soon. I was there for another seventeen months.”
“Of course, I escaped. Later I robbed a bank in Lima, acquainted myself with Mr. Almeida and spent four years in prison. Now I am the chief of police in my hometown. On, I’m sorry, this is my friend Benjamin C. Robinson, the vice-mayor of Orbost. Benjamin, here you see the very famous murderer Black Jack.”
“Very pleasant, thank you. Here are my comrades, the priest Enrique Lopez, former hangman and the agent of Cuba’s secret service. He is a personal friend of Fidel Castro. Also you see Mr. Lincoln A. Shroud, a gipsy. Lets drink whisky together!” Black Jack said.
“Stop!” Mr. Shroud stood up with a sub-machine gun in his hands. “Hands up! Face to the wall! You too, Black Jack!”
Three men obeyed the order. Mr. Shroud searched them and took their arms. Then he returned to the table and took a gulp of whisky.
“What has happened?” Father Lopez asked.
“They are Mr. Almeida’s agents. We must kill them.” Mr. Shroud responded.
Suddenly Mr. Reichenbach turned round and broke into a run. Other fellow sufferers, Mr. Robinson and Black Jack, followed him. They ran out from the church and fled with Mr. Shroud’s “Pontiac Firebird”. Father Lopez and Mr. Shroud sat in Mr. Durakov’s “Zaporozetsh 965”, which was standing in front of the church and started to track them. The church stayed empty and quiet. The storm was probably over now.
After some time, Mr. Diego and Ms. Gloria returned the church. Mr. Diego was tired and his wooden leg ached. He noticed bottles of whisky on the table. They sat on the back side of the table and began to drink.
“Whisky is good, but aphrodesiacs are better. It makes me feel a real man.” Mr. Diego said.
“Yes, my dear! Aphrodesiacs are the best I know,” Ms. Gloria said.
“Indeed, but we must catch Satan and Mr. Skeleton and enfranchise our friends. Do you know, where Satan is?”
“Yes, of course! I was his mistress for years, you know. Recently he lived in a morgue in Iquitos. Mr. Skeleton rented it for him. But I’m afraid, we won’t catch Mr. Skeleton. He probably went to Estonia and as much I know, he used to work there as a skeleton in one classroom in Pirita,” Ms. Gloria said.
“Oh yes, it’s difficult. I hope that Mr. Robinson and Mr. Reichenbach together with Black Jack will cope with the two scoundrels. Oh, my wooden leg!”
“It hurts again? However, for whom does Black Jack really work?”
“Nobody knows. You motherfucker, it is dawned already. Terrible! We must hasten. Lets go!”
“But you must have a rest and we haven’t a car!” Ms. Gloria complained.
“My father has one. Hurry, please!” They left quickly.
Mr. Diego and Ms. Gloria took Mr. Francisco’s “Ferrari 250 GTO” and headed to Iquitos direction. After an hour a white “Ferrari” stopped at the Iquitos’ morgue. Mr. Diego and Ms. Gloria got out of the car. They rang the bell and the door opened. They asked the dissector to come in that was kindly admitted. However, they didn’t observe anything. The coffin, where Satan and Ms. Gloria slept, was empty. They wanted to leave, but the bell rang again and a skeleton came in. It was Mrs. Capitolina, Satan’s new girlfriend.
“Where is Satan? Where is Mr. Skeleton?” Mr. Diego asked.
“You won’t find them. It’s impossible. I can’t help you,” Mrs. Capitolina said. “It is necessary to finish you.”
“Come what may! Lets go to the police station!” Mr. Diego stated.
At the police station they had a cheering surprise. There they met Mr. Robinson and Mr. Reichenbach. Father Lopez and Mr. Shroud had been arrested. They stayed behind bars already. Black Jack got lost on the return journey. Mr. Reichenbach said that they lay in wait for the “Zaporozetsh” at the parting of the ways. Black Jack shot the tires and the car stopped. They rushed to the car and there they found Father Lopez and Mr. Shroud, who were crippled. They lashed these persons and brought them to the police station. Suddenly, in their return to Iquitos, Black Jack jumped out of the car and disappeared into the forest. They looked for him, but without a result.
“You did good work, but we must find Mr. Nola and his daughter,” Mr. Diego said.n They gave Mr. Skeleton de Guevara over to the police and left quickly.
Soon they stood at the door of the skeletons’ coca farm. A guard skeleton called Mr. K.K.Skeleton to talk with them. Mr. K.K.Skeleton was Mr. F.D.Skeleton’s nephew and he managed the coca farm. They had a friendly and sensible conversation, after that they decided to change Mr. and Ms. Nola for Mrs. Capitolina Skeleton de Guevara.
It was five minutes to eight. In Mr. Francisco Almeida’s sitting room were seated Mr. Francisco Almeida and his wife, Mr. Diego Almeido with Ms. Gloria, Mr. Gregorio Nola and his daughter, Mr. Robinson and Mr. Reichenbach. They drank peacefully aphrodesiacs and ate a roast duck. They had had a very intense, but the very mysterious night. The struggle with the skeletons continues.

A.D. 1990/2016

10 kommentaari (+add yours?)

  1. ckrabat
    aug. 13, 2016 @ 22:55:07


  2. henzen
    aug. 13, 2016 @ 22:55:24

    Kultuuriga ei ole nii, et riputad lõuendi tekstiga üles,
    ja teie, olge lahked, nautige seda mis otsast tahate 😀
    Ei, nii see ei käi, ka kultuuri nautimiseks on oma käigud:
    on aperatiivid, on sakuskad, aperatiiv läheb üle narratiiviks,
    ja alles siis võib ettevalmistuseta inimese kunstilauda juhatada.


    • ckrabat
      aug. 13, 2016 @ 23:24:10

      Vot ei tea, mis asi on üldse kultuur? Kas see, mis on gunztizaalis? Lõuendil võib ka mõni näha ema, teine tütart, aga kas see on üldsegi halb?


  3. ckrabat
    aug. 13, 2016 @ 23:01:06


  4. ckrabat
    aug. 14, 2016 @ 11:56:20

    Neid, kes tauavad eesti keeles lugeda, aitab burksiputka tõlk
    San Agustin on väike üksildane kiriku lähedal Capo jõe Peruu. See hoone loodi hispaania vallutajate kaua aega tagasi, 1591. Alates sellest ajast ka laskuda varemed hõbeda kaevanduses. Mining oli lõpetanud kakssada aastat tagasi, sest siis mine on jäänud tühjaks. Varemed aeglaselt lagunes sügavus on metsades.
    Vähe aega tagasi pastoraadi San Agustin oli loodud uuesti. Väga salapärane mees kolis pastoraadis. Tema nimi oli Isa Enrique Lopez Yourcenar ja ta oli preester. Tema viimase postituse oli Catedral Santiago apostol Panama. Alates sellest, kust ta oli tühjaks nõid.
    Peruu Isa Lopez jätkas oma tööd, kuid tema jumalik teenused olid ilma inimesi. Nad on alati algas keskööl ja kestis esimene kukelaulu. Sel ajal kiriku aknad olid alati suletud läbimatute kardinad. Kohalikud inimesed võiks öelda, et kui Isa Lopez oli jumalateenistusi, keegi lähima keskkonna kadus. Samuti oli keegi kinni värsket verd ukse kõrval kirik. Harva asustatud keskkond seda kohta vältida.
    Kord Gipsy pere kolis mahajäetud kaevanduse. Hr Lincoln A. surilina, perekonnapea, hakkas osalema Isa Lopez teenuseid. Üha enam inimesi kadus müstiliselt. Elanikud lähima küla hüljanud oma maja ja põgenes suuremates linnades, Iquitos, ja Lima. Olukord oli imelik ja võigas.

    …Kaks luustikku tõi Ms Cleopatra altar. Hr Nola tahtis alustada nutt, kui ta nägi, et hr surilina lähenes Ms Cleopatra suurte lõikav nuga. Black Jack peatas teda ja sulges suud.
    “Ole vait!” Sosistas ta. “Sa pask mind ära! Ma pean sind tappa. ”
    “Rahu! Rahu, ainult rahu! “Hr Diego rahustas neid ja valgustatud toru. “Lets hakata mõtlema!”
    Kahjuks nad ei suutnud välja mõelda. Lahendus tuli ootamatult. Väike auto “Zaporozetsh 965” saabus kirikusse ja kaks Nõukogude sõjaväelased said sealt. Nad olid kolonel Ivan Ivanowitch Durakov, sõjaväe atašee Nõukogude Liidu Peruu ja tema assistent, Lance kehalise Sukin. Sõjaväelased tulid kirikus.
    “Mine perse nägu, lits! Ma vihane teiega! Sa värdjas! “Kolonel Durakov ütles sõbralikkust.
    “Seltsimees kolonel palunud teil lõpetada tseremoonia,” Hr Sukin tõlgitud.
    “Ma ei saa aru teid, hr Durakov,” Hr Skeleton vastas ta. …
    … jne


  5. Jolli
    aug. 14, 2016 @ 18:04:02


  6. ckrabat
    aug. 14, 2016 @ 21:12:46


  7. ckrabat
    aug. 14, 2016 @ 21:16:38


  8. henzen
    aug. 14, 2016 @ 23:13:46

    Okei, kultuurist ei räägi ja kabuuri ei näpi.
    Aga ikkagi, ühed hindavd kohe pauku, teised aga…
    Ühed sihivad tulemust, teised aga naudivad protsessi…

    Ehk siis burksi- ja antipasti kultuuri kokkupõrge 😀
    Ühed ahmivad nii kuis, teised mekivad ja ootavad pearooga.
    Burksiputkas kakeldakse, kes saab enne, antipastit jagatakse.

    Ikkagi jõuame selleni, kuidas teksti näljastele jagatakse.
    Sigu müüakse kotis, kõikjal maailmas, ja ühel kellaajal.
    Muidugi ei söenda keegi enne silpigi oma pasast avaldada.

    Kas keegi teab kedagi kes suudab kolm lauset korraga häälitseda?
    Okei, jätame Anfissa ja CA teenistuses olnud mehed välja kui
    suhtekorralduse ja subordinatsiooni professionaalid.

    Ligi (sic!) 1 miljon januneb lihtsama kommunikatsiooni
    nagu burks järgi – haukad korra puhast rõõmu, ja mõmised…
    Aga kus on antud loos teesid 1) 2) 3) mida haugata?

    Mingi inglikeelne soust, mida siga ka ei söö, vabandage väga.
    Kas tõesti nii raske oli paar lauset antipastit serveerida?
    Õnneks lõpuks serveeritud googel-moogel klops oli parem 😀


  9. ckrabat
    aug. 15, 2016 @ 08:43:04

    Et mis on selle loo point, kas tal üldse pointi on ja kas üldse peaks olema? Burksitõlgi versioon mõjub muidugi naljakamana, võib-olla see ongi point? Miks ta inglise keeles on, siis kurat teda teab. Kui see lugu on kirjutatud, muide aasta oli siis 1990. Tänases kontekstis mõjub ta loomulikult teisiti, sest paljud loos esinevad detailid tänast lugejat ei kõneta, kui paljudele ütleb Zaporozetsh 965 või KGB (mis kunagi oli elu hall argipäev) üldse midagi, aga mis siis? Mingi teemaarendus siin on, mingid seebiooperite klišeed on paigutatud horror-konteksti. Žanrimääratuselt on see ilmselt mingi absurdielementidega õuduskomöödia ja filmilinal mõjuks see paremini, mis võiks anda samasuguse efekti kui burksitõlk. Kirjasõnas oleks tulnud situatsioonid rohkem lahti kirjutada, mida siin pole eriti tehtud. Aga noh, mingit elu mõtet siit ka vast väga otsida ei tasu 🙂


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