Altered Ch. 01

[Spanish] "I see, I was surprised because we haven't seen you down here in years. Your grandfather went to town to get some parts for one of our vans. We only have one working van left and it gets hard to take the niños in one van, we have to make two trips," she smiled at me kind of flirty.

[Spanish] "Thanks, maybe I'll go see if I can help out with the repairs."

[Spanish] "OK, I'll see you around then Blondie," she seduced with a wicked grin.

I had the biggest crush on Maria growing up, she is technically an adult now but she still stays at the orphanage helping out until her sister is of age. She was not much to look at in your classical American body style; she was stout, short, with straight jet-black hair, mocha skin, and smallish breasts. She looked like she had a lot of Indian [Native American] in her, but she had a pretty face that was cherubic and innocent and she would give me these naughty smiles that had me fantasizing about her all night. I always liked Maria but they were very strict at the orphanage and I didn't want to mess things up for my grandfather by causing a scandal so I always kept it friendly.

I had money so I could solve a lot of problems around here by buying new things for the orphanage but new things often attracted thieves and invited corruption so it was better to fix the old than buy new around here. Besides, they had plenty of money coming in from charitable donations from various churches associated with the missionary group my grandfather worked for and they had their own board of trustees looking out for their wellbeing. Still, I wanted to contribute so I decided to take the vans in the worst shape into town to get overhauled.

"Hey Iz, David is not here right now he went to town for some parts."

"Do you know when he'll be back?"

"No idea, he might not be back until late tonight. I'm going to unload some stuff I brought with me and go into town myself."

"OK, can I help?"

"Sure, why don't you grab the lighter things, anything you see in a grocery bag is staying here," I directed, and we quickly unloaded the Jeep.

"If you want to come with me, I am going to town to see about getting the vans overhauled, or you could stay here and wait for David, his house is unlocked, I'll leave you some bottled water because the well water around here is an acquired taste."

She decided to wait for my grandfather while I went into town. It took me most of the day to make arrangements with 3 tow trucks and 2 shops to take a look at the vans. And by the time I got back I saw my grandfather's pickup off to the side and Isabella looking upset. It also looked like she had been crying.

"Hey, are you ok?" I asked with concern.

"Yeah, I talked with David, he couldn't tell me what I needed to know," she grumbled, but she seemed to be hiding something.

"What was that, if I may ask?"

She just shrugged, "I just want to get out of here. Can we go?" she demanded.

"Sure, do you mind if I go talk with David really quick?" I asked. I was a bit disturbed that my grandfather had one of those holier than thou kind of episodes so I decided to keep quiet about our relationship.

"OK, please hurry."

I ran down to where the vans were parked and sure enough one of the vans was on blocks and my grandfather's boots were sticking out from under it.

"Grandpa!"

My grandfather grunted in surprise and said, "Grandson!" our typical greeting.

I explained that I had 3 tow trucks coming to pick up three of the vans and I was going to have the engines overhauled and rebuilt or whatever it took. My grandfather was a bit perturbed insisting that he could fix them, but I explained that he had plenty of work to do and we needed some help catching up so he let it go. My grandfather believed that you had to work every day except Sunday where he only worked after church, so that's why I left him the fourth van to fix himself. I gave him the receipts for the work orders and the tow trucks, so he could keep up on the vans' progresses himself.

When I got back, Isabella looked more distraught so I tried to kiss her, to which she pulled away. On the drive back to camp, Isabella gave me the silent treatment despite my many attempts at humor, logic, and outright begging her to talk to me but she seemed just to get angrier with me so I gave up. When we got back to camp she stormed off leaving me high and dry, so I decided to find George as he was my personal therapist.

*****

I found a note in my tent and it said, "Hey man thanks for the cash. I met this girl last night and I'm going to hang out with her tonight, she is renting a nice American style cabin over at Rosarito Beach. I'll catch up with you tomorrow." With no one to talk to and with no drug that could drown my sorrows even if I had them, I decided to catch some waves boogie boarding.

The beach at El Faro was kind of unusual in that the water stayed knee high for about 400 yards. The waves broke even farther out and it had a strong current that followed the shoreline so that by the time I caught a wave in I would be really far down the beach and have to ride in most of the way, walk way past where I started then go back out again. The water was really warm and surprisingly clear. I had infinite stamina so I could do this all day, but not infinite patience and soon became bored.

I caught my last wave in at sunset and my soul was feeling at peace, so I went to hunt down something to eat. I really wanted to talk to Isabella but I felt that she most likely just needed time to think, I just hoped that whatever was bothering her didn't chase her away.

The only vendor around was a Mexican funnel cake vendor, so I decided to head into town. Before I got to my car, I decided to try to at least check on Isabella; maybe see if she wanted me to get her some decent food so I attempted to talk to her once again.

"Ahem, Izzy are you in there?" I inquired and heard her rustling about inside her tent. "I know I have only known you for less than two days but when I told you last night that I felt a connection with you I lied..." I paused to see if she was listening and heard a faint whimper, "The connection wasn't just an arbitrary feeling, you see, I can only sleep for a couple of hours a night—And I have very short dreams that I cannot normally remember, but for over 10 years there has been one dream that is never the same but one that I always remember because they contained someone resembling you," I continued emotionally stammering. "As a matter of fact, it has to be you because you both share the same mole right near your right jaw line and birthmark on your left shoulder. I don't know what that means Iz, maybe we are connected somehow but ever since I met you I have been falling for you hard," I concluded.

I kicked the sand and waited for her to respond. Although I could hear her sobbing, I decided to throw out one last lifeline.

"I'm going into town... I guess I'll see you around..." I pried and wanted to relate my loneliness and feelings of betrayal but I realized that was only self-serving so let it go.

I waited one more minute and dragged my feet to my Jeep but once I got in the driver's seat my emotions overwhelmed me. I didn't even understand what she was upset about, what could my grandfather have said to her? I drove off angry.

*****

Most of the stores were closed at night but there were a few restaurants and more than a few bars open. Ensenada is a cruise ship stop so there are plenty of places catering to Americans. I had plenty of cash from my trip into town earlier in the day so I looked for a strip joint or something interesting to take my mind off of things. Unlike Tijuana, the prostitution in Ensenada was limited, there very rarely were street walkers but there were bars, especially on Mira Mar Ave., that doubled as brothels. Luckily the cops pretty much leave you alone as long as you aren't making trouble.

One great side-effect to my fast healing is that I am immune to all known diseases including STDs, however I always wear condoms anyway because I suspect that my sperm might be more potent. I walked into the first whorehouse I saw and got a booth off to the side. It didn't take long for a woman to approach me, but she was old and not very attractive. I ordered her a few beers (it's expected) and politely told her I wasn't interested.

She was persistent so I palmed a fifty and whispered into her ear, [Spanish] "This is for you, I am looking for a blonde," I lied (I actually didn't care, I just didn't want to be rude). She took the hint and left happy.

This wasn't a strip club it was a whorehouse, but there were topless dancers on a long narrow stage that looked like a bar top. I was actually miserable as my few drinks had no effect as usual and the atmosphere was depressing. As usual, I was horny as hell, but hid what little enthusiasm I had behind a mask of embarrassment.

I had a few more prostitutes solicit me, and a few were ok but I wasn't feeling it so I got up to leave. When a big burly bouncer looking guy, whom was high on some stimulant (maybe coke) approached me saying in broken English, "Hey white boy. What's the matter our girls not good enough for you?" and he followed it up with a universal crude you must be gay hand gesture. "I hear there's boys over at Anthony's [a whorehouse a couple buildings down] that will suck your dick."

I stared him down and got really close to him and responded with, "Thanks big guy!" followed by me pretending to fondle his ball and give him a kiss on his cheek with an over exaggerated smacking sound as I pulled away. I then quickly ran out of there like a cartoon getaway before I got dog piled on because although I know I could handle the bouncer there was five of his buddies circling like a pack of wolves.

The bar prostitutes, once they settled on a price, would take their Johns to some private residents across the street. As I started walking down the street the first prostitute that propositioned me in the club came running at me from across the street and said [Spanish] "Forty," and she starts pressing herself against me and reached down and started rubbing my crotch. At that point, I was in a "Fuck It" mood so I said "Let's go."

Most of the prostitutes just had to make you cum, they weren't on a clock so the expression 'wham bam thank you mam' was alive and kicking. These girls were experts at getting a guy off as quickly as possible. I followed the woman across the street and we went through a house, out the back door, and into a back house. The closer we got to the room (which was more like the size of a closet with a twin bed) the more trepidation I felt, my stomach started knotting up, and I felt a bit nauseous.

My adrenaline started pumping and my resolve firmed as I grabbed her by the arm and said, "Listen, do you have anything more private?"

[Spanglish] "Sí, pero it will cost mucho dolares," she countered knowingly, as if she knew the reason I chose her was I wanted something cheap and quick. She obviously wasn't anyone's first choice, she was probably on her last years as a prostitute. I'm guessing she spoke much better English but had on an act to feign ignorance for the tourists.

[Spanish] "First, what are you willing to do? I know we agreed to sex and a blowjob, but what are your limits?"

[English] "My limits señor? I need to work to support my family," she said, "I am not young so I cannot... como se dice... difícil?"

"Picky," I enunciated, "and wow your English has suddenly improved," I said and she blushed. "What I mean is anal, spanking, can I tie you up... most importantly how long can you last being continuously fucked—hard and rough."

"I can do all these things you say, pero..." as she rubbed her fingers and thumb together indicating it would cost A LOT more.

"How long?" I repeated, "I know that you have been with men all night, you might even have a special rate for that no?"

"Sí..."

"What I'm asking is have you ever been gangbanged all night and how long did you last if you did?"

"No, no 'gang-bangs,'" she started talking fast with a little hint of fear "El Chulo will beat me señor."

"Don't worry about your pimp, and no gang-bangs, just answer the question."

"I was 'gang-banged' as you say once by 10 men," she said switching to Spanish as if reliving a bad memory, [Spanish] "They were drunk and one would fuck me and cum, and when all 10 had finished I thought I was done but they kept coming... when one would finish he would go to the end of the line. They were very horny and started getting rough. I was jerking off two at a time and blowing one while one of them fucked me. After 3 hours, I was tired and just wanted it to stop, but they kept going. After 2 more hours, I couldn't lift my arms anymore and my pimp was afraid of them and did nothing; they are cartel. My mouth was too sore to continue sucking and my body hurt all over and I collapsed. But they kept fucking me, sometime in my ass and other times in my pussy. I couldn't even feel the beatings after a while and eventually I blacked out," she cried tears welling up at the memory. "I ended up in a hospital," she resigned I could see a sort of shrug of acceptance then continued, "I couldn't work for a month after that. After a week, I tried to go back to work because my kids were hungry, but no one would take me with all my bruises."

I was horny a hell (as usual) but I felt sick to my stomach and compassion for her. I wanted to use her like a rag doll but I couldn't bring myself to do it. It really hit me how real all of those stories about prostitution and human trafficking that I barely paid attention to really were.

"Here," I said handing her 500 dollars, "Take the night off."

Her eyes lit up and she said, "Really?" and quickly followed that up with 6 quick kisses all over my face.

I turned and headed back to my Jeep, I just couldn't do it.

I was in a dazed and confused state and my Jeep was in sight when I felt something was wrong, it was almost like a Spidey sense. I looked to my right and the bouncer from the bar was approaching me and I tensed up. I turned to look left and my head felt like it exploded all I could see was stars. I didn't even feel myself hit the concrete. The stars left me and were replaced by a feeling of being pummeled and kicked every direction; I was stomped on over and over until I could no longer sense anything as the pain became overwhelming. I regained my sight for a second and I felt my hand being pulled up into the air. I looked up to see the bouncer with a pair of garden shears and he spoke something loud and slow at me, I'm sure it was diabolical but I couldn't register it. Then I felt a sharp pain as I my right index finger was cut off. Then I saw his boot, then blackness.

The next thing I knew I woke up with the taste of blood in my mouth. My finger hurt like hell, although surprisingly it felt like it was burning, almost like after you pop a blister the skin underneath is so new it hurts, that's how it felt but around my whole finger.

"Wait a minute," I thought suddenly, "didn't they just cut off my finger."

I looked around and sure enough there was my finger six inches away. I brought my hand to my face and looked and there was a new bright pulsing pink finger in its place except that it seemed to be a sixth the size of the original and still growing. Before I thought it through, I picked up my old finger and pocketed it.

"Oh my God!" I thought, "I can regenerate."

I slowly rose to my feet still in pain. I was healing so fast that I could feel myself being put back together. As parts would heal the number of pains decreased. I searched for my wallet but it was gone and I was pissed. I looked down at my watch and saw that maybe only 10 minutes had passed since I left the prostitute. I must have recovered consciousness in minutes. There were people approaching me to see if I was ok and a small crowd across the street. I saw one of my attackers walking back into the club. Before I could think it through I felt rage overwhelm me, so I picked up a large pipe off the sidewalk that was lying there; it had what appeared to be my blood all over it. I steeled my resolve and used my anger and took off running toward the club.

I slammed my pipe into the doorman's balls and quickly ran into the club as fast as I could. I saw a group of my attackers heading to a back room talking happily congratulating themselves. I ran up to the first one knocking him in the back of the head, he just dropped like a sack of potatoes. The friend he was talking to was going for a weapon but I rushed at him so fast and kicked him so hard with a forward front kick to the ribs that I heard an 'eeping—shwoosh' sound as one of his ribs must have punctured a lung; his chest seemed to cave in and he flew across a table bowling two prostitutes and a john over and scattering them in a piled mess. I didn't bother with a follow up, he didn't look like he was getting up so I kept moving forward. As I ran toward the back room, there came screaming and commotion all around me as patrons and prostitutes were coming out of their shock and reacting to the violence.

Out popped a mix between a bandolero and a seventies disco dancer with a gun. As he moved into the doorway and before he could react; as soon and my forward leg hit the ground my back leg popped up and I twisted my body around and brought my foot up high and my spinning back kick with my foot slamming his head into the door frame. I jumped over his body before he could fall to the ground. I saw the bouncer and another other enforcer type were getting out of their seats looking for weapons. I threw the pipe at the smaller guy and I heard a sickening crack-splat as it smacked him in the face; his nose sprayed blood everywhere and part of his head seemed to be dented. He fell then slumped over the table he was sitting at. I dove toward the bouncer and slammed my shoulder into his upper torso flipping him over the chair he was still trying to get off of and his head slammed into the ground with a crack. I kicked him twice in the ribs and stomped on his right knee snapping it like a twig.

I took a second to breathe and realized everyone seemed to either be moving in slow motion or I was moving faster than was natural. I looked around and saw my wallet was on the table with my money spread out like they had just started counting it. I grabbed my money and looked through my wallet and nothing seemed to be missing so I stuffed it in my back pocket and searched for a back exit. There was an 'emergency' exit that had been boarded over so I tried some of my board breaking kicks on it and it seemed to break apart at each attempt. After 6 kicks the boards were splinters and the door was hanging off of one hinge. I squeezed myself past the door and ran through an alleyway and spy-like snuck from shadow to shadow and cover to cover back to my car. As I drove off, I noticed that everyone seemed to be confused and all of the cops were still arriving and were preparing to rush the club; at the same time, all the patrons were doing their best to get out of there; no one was looking in my direction. So I used the chaos to get out of there as fast as I could.

*****

I arrived back in at the campsite around midnight, there was a fire still burning and music still playing but everyone was pretty drunk and I could hear the sounds of sex everywhere and I didn't want to talk to anyone anyway. I didn't bother checking on Isabella, I was too frustrated and angry and my clothes were still spattered with blood, so I headed to my tent. When I got inside I saw a note to the side of my sleeping bag and someone also was apparently sleeping in my bag. I leaned over the bag and saw Anya dead asleep (WTF?). I picked up the note and all it said was "Nate, I am truly Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. It's not your fault but I have to go. Sorry I'm a coward and cannot explain more, maybe we'll meet again. I hope. Natalie."