A story of the 4 Juan’s plus 1
Off the coast of Southern Baja, about 50 miles north of Cabo San Lucas, the Espiritu de Jesus fished the waters of the Pacific for shrimp. By day she moored out to sea about 1 mile, straight out from the little town of Pescadero. By night her crew ran Espiritu de Jesus up and down the coast several miles, dropping the big shrimp trawls into the sea to catch their livelihood. She usually worked and moored near the shrimp boat La Rana (The Frog) named for its green paint. La Rana was owned and operated by Capitan Gonzales, a man of many years fishing.
She was called by her crew Espiritu. The crew was made up of the 5 Juans. Juan Barragon was El Capitan. The other 4 Juans were identified by their positions: Primier Oficial ( Mate) , Apprendiz Oficial (2nd mate), Cocinar (Cook) and Mecanico (Mechanic). These designations were too much to utter for the crew under normal circumstances. So they had adopted a numerical system. The Mate was Dos, the 2nd mate was Tres, the Cook was Cuatro, the Mechanic was Cinco. There was no Uno, as El Capitan wished to remain unnumbered. Whether called by Juan, their official, ocean going titles, or their numerical designations of convenience, they were all Pescadoros (Fisheremen). And they all called El Capitain Malvado (Evil).
El Capitan loved this name. It was his ambition to earn it for his whole life. He had wanted to legally change his last name from Barragon to Malvado but his mother, La Mala (Bad News), the only person in his life of whom he was afraid, forbid the change. She would not have him dishonor the dead from whom the name Barragon had descended. La Mala also told him she would kill him if he changed his name. He thought this was a little strong, but he did not push the point. He had learned that La Mala would always get her way. He also remembered that his father had disappeared many years ago without a trace. And the worst part for him was that Espiritu belonged to his mother. So he settled for the nick name Malvado. Evil. He often thought to himself that if he lived in an English speaking country they would call him Johnny Evil. That name alone could make him rich. In Mexico it merely served define him in his own mind.
Malvado had admired evil wherever he saw it and sought to copy it. As a child his mother read to him about pirates in children’s books. He could never forget the pictures of El Capitan Pirate forcing an enemy to walk the plank. He regretted that he could not do the same, or at least use a cat of 9 tails on occasion when Cuatro served a burned Mole. Unfortunately he had to settle for verbal abuse. He so enjoyed yelling at the crew, calling them names, reviling their ancestors, mothers, sisters, and pets. But he felt a lack. He was unfulfilled. Merely yelling and cussing was small time evil. Even when he added a violent waving of the arms it did not satisfy. But it was all he had. So he tried to enjoy it as much as possible.
Espiritu fished every night but Sunday. Sunday morning, after dragging the trawls all night, the shrimp was offloaded to a few pongas for transportation to Cabo San Lucas by truck. The boat was then well moored near to El Rana. El Rana was quiet. It’s crew had already gone to the fisherman’s beach and home to their families and church. Espititu was left in the care of Malvado’s brother Remedio, who rode a shrimp ponga on Sundays to work his one day per week on the boat. The crew launched the dingy toward the fisherman’s beach. Tonight Marvado would go the Brothel and show those plump and sensual women a real man. But first he had to make it to the beach. This was often a problem as the dingy motor was unreliable. In fact it was permanently broken, and, by Cinco’s estimation, unfixable. But every time they launched the dingy Malvado would stand over Cinco as he tried to start the motor and yell.
Cinco pulled the starter rope a few times, spraying WD40 into the carburetor as a starting fluid. Nothing. Not even a pop. The piston moved in the cylinder as it should, but only the sound of splashing water could be heard coming from the motor.
“Cinco, Baboso (Slime), when will you learn to start this Hiijo de un Perro (Son of a Dog) motor. It cannot be that difficult even for a Baboso.” Cinco looked down at the motor and gave it another pull.
Dos looked over at Tres and said in a moderate voice, “That was not very evil cussing. How does Malvado expect to get anywhere with that kind of talk. He does not sound today like Un Cucuy (A Monster). Malvado, can’t you do any better than that. How do you start that motor with such kind language?”
“Shut up, Boca de Pedo (Fart Mouth)”, belched Malvado.
“That is a little better”, commented Dos. Tres, Cuatro, and Cinco nodded.
“Understand that the motor will not start. Just like the last time we tried to start this motor. It will never start!” declared Cinco. “When we try to start it next Sunday it will not start. The only thing we can rely on is that Malvado will cuss me out.”
“As is only right,” said Malvado. “So, to get to the Fisherman’s Beach for our day of rest, we will row the dingy. Pardon me, Putsos (Bitches), you will row the dingy. Now, Punetons (Wankers) row this Pinche Culero (Fucking Asshole).
“At least now we are getting somewhere” said Cuatro as he picked up his oar.
And so it went. The 4 Juans by other names rowed to the beach while Malvado warmed up his cussing skills. Me Cago En los Madres, Cabrones (I Shit on Your Mothers, (Cuckolds ) (or Goats), pull harder” he chanted at every pull.
Malvado occasionly called out to no one. “I wish I was a pirate. Then I could draw and quarter them.”
“Much better” said Dos.
Dos, Tres, Cuatro, and Cinco went home to their families. On the way they discussed their lives.
Dos mentioned “We are lucky men. Our boss is a Pinga (Dick)”
“He is also a Putso (Bitch), no?” said Cinco.
“Yes” the crew agreed in unison.
“We are very lucky men indeed.” declared Tres. “Because he is a Pinga, and a Putso, we are all gentlemen. I never want to cuss or be mean to anyone after a week with Malvado. We are free men. Free even to go to church. Before this job I felt guilty for going to church. I feared I was controlled by my wife and mother. My manhood appeared to be threatened. I would have to get drunk, and sometimes drive my truck too fast to court danger, therefore reversing what I thought was a failure in my life. And sometimes I would do this on Sunday night as well. That was very bad behavior. But no more. I sing in the choir.”
“I hope he always remains Malvado,” said Cinco
Cuatro replied, “Do not worry, he will do something very bad every day. I sense that he may even sin in some manner tonight. And we will be free to stay home with our babies”
“Verdad (True), said Cinco, “And glad of it my friends”
They were all at home early enough to make 11 o’clock Mass.
Malvado slept the entire day in the small room he maintained in the back of his mother’s house. He woke at 9 pm full of anticipation. Now he would go to the Brothel. There would be music. There would be beer. There would be Tequila. And there would be women.
At 11 pm Malvado walked through the door of the Brothel. He felt like he was walking through the door of a house of ill repute in an old western movie. Except there were no swinging doors like in the movies, in fact there was no door. There was no live music, just some scratchy records. There was not even a bar, only coolers with ice. The establishment was a big Palapa (Palm Roof) with a few rooms at the back where the main trade was plied. Those rooms, unlike the Palapa, had no roof. But it was love under the stars to Malvado. Who cares about a roof at a time like that.
There were tables, small tables with 1 chair at each, throughout the Palapa. Malvado sat down at one of the tables, laid a 1000 Peso note on the table, and whistled for a waitress. A young girl of perhaps 13 came to his table. He told her that he was Malvado and he was here to spend money and love a women. The waitress looked at her watch and said “What’ll you have”
“Bring me 8 bears and 4 shots of Tequila,” ordered Malvado
“All at one time, Senor?” asked the waitress.
Malvado contemplated a string of cuss words for a moment, then remembered La Mala and her threat of death and said, “Yes, all at one time. I have been at sea for a week.”
The waitress came back with Malvados drinks. He drank them all, slowly at first, then more quickly. He wanted to get to business. As he sat at his table he surveyed the room and he saw a few men that he knew, sang out the many uncharitable epithets and discourtesies that they all had come to expect. He then motioned to the young waitress. “It is time,” he said.
As the girl led him to the roofless boudoirs he noticed that he was a little wobbly. Then he became more wobbly. By the time he met his amour he was spinning around. He tried to get in the mood and unbuckled his pants. He yelled out to his date, “I am a pirate” and passed out with his trousers down around his knees.
Malvado woke an hour before dawn in the deserted parking lot of the Brothel. He stood up, dusted himself a little, and headed back to his mothers house to sleep until 3 pm. He then he went back to the Fisherman’s Beach. He swore to himself with complex and colorful language that he would only have 4 beers on his next visit to the roofless Bordello. And, of course, 4 shots of Tequila.
Monday the crew rowed the dingy out to Espiritu with all hands. Malvado had told Cinco to forgo the ritual of the motor and for the crew to row as he was too hung-over. Malvado, in the stern, cussed in a low, pained tone, “Pinche Culero, Babosos, Putsos, pull the oars, I tell you, pull.” He had heard the phrase “Pull, I tell you, pull” somewhere and thought it would be a good chant. Maybe it was in a movie. He added, “Me Cago En los Madres, Cabrones.” for effect. He felt it was needed in this case. He had a reputation to uphold despite his hangover.
The crew fished all night uneventfully with Malvado cussing and steaming as needed while he piloted Espiritu, as they had done for many years now. About dawn they pulled in the trawls, dumped the shrimp, put away the tackle, and went below decks for supper. The crew of the Espiritu lived an upside down day, dinner at dawn, a small social hour with a little Tequila and cards, sleep during the day. Malvado ate alone and slept in his cabin as befit his position. Then the crew would rise about 5 pm, eat what could be called breakfast, and began fishing again a little after dark.
That Monday night Tres looked a little concerned. He barely drank his Tequila. He shuffled his cards rather than play.
Dos asked, “Friend, what is it that is troubling you today. We had a good catch, we have good weather, and you were with your babies just this morning”
“I know,” replied Tres. “It has nothing to do with that part of life. It is just that the priest, well…”
“What did the priest do,” asked Cuatro, as he cleaned up the dishes from dinner.
Tres answered, “He didn’t do anything. He said something. You all heard it. You were there. He said that we must fight evil to be righteous in the eyes of God.”
“Yes?” said Dos, Cuatro, and Cinco together.
“We have evil in our midst and we are not fighting it,” declared Tres.
“Do we really think Malvado is evil or is he just playing at evil? Maybe he is just a grouchy man. I have heard that he nicknamed himself,“offered Cuatro.
“Do you remember the time that he ran over his brother Remedio’s prize rooster because he crowed on Monday mornings? He was drunk, we should admit, but that was not kind.” Cinco reminded the crew.
“But is that evil?” asked Cuatro.
“Let us just say that he displays more evil than any man we know,” replied Cinco.
“Yes, he is our evil,” said Tres.
“So how do we fight the evil of the man we depend on for so much,” retorted Dos.
“I do not know,” said Tres.
The 4 Juan’s sat at the table looking at their cards. No one spoke for many minutes, an abnormal occurrence aboard Espiritu.
Then Quatro said something that no one expected. “Maybe we should have a Lotteria (Lottery).”
“A Lotteria?” was the reply from the crew, in unison.
“Yes, we can each write on a small piece of paper one word that may be instrumental in the fight against evil, to help make evil to be made less evil, or whatever comes to mind. With each piece of paper we make a small contribution to the Lotteria,” replied Cuatro. “We will be suggesting, making Intentions. Words only, no long thinking in this. That is all. We all know that we do not want Malvado to become a saint. Then we would no longer be free men. Who would then do the normal evil of men? It would have to be us. So we will suggest, through the spirit world of our Intentions, that Malvado have some small, temporary betterment by a means of our naming. Perhaps he could go to Mass 1 time per year or donate to the orphanage. That doesn’t mean that he will become a good man and stop reviling and cursing us in our daily work. Heaven forbid.“
“That makes some sense,” said Tres. “We would be stimulating a change in evil without actually purging evil from this vessel. Do you think that would make the priest happy?”
Dos answered, “I don’t think that a priest could ever be happy. No women you see. But it might help.”
Then Cinco confirmed the need for the Lotteria. “We will put a small donation for each Intention in a jar, like any Lotteria. If something happens we can take out the money and have a party. Say if he goes to church we can buy an extra bottle of Tequila. What do you think, my friends?”
“Good,” replied the crew.
“Let us begin the Lotteria tonight.” said Cuatro. “It is a good a time as any to begin our Intentions regarding our battle against Evil”
Cuatro found a large piece of crockery in the galley and wrote upon it “AIRETTOL,” which is Lotteria spelled backwards. He did not want Malvado to know what they were doing. There would be no point if Malvado was aware that he was the object of their Intentions. And it might dilute their cause. Cuatro placed the crockery behind the stove. Each day, just as the crew began to drink a little Tequila and start the card game, Cuatro would bring out the jar, paper, and pencils, and they would write.
“What are you intending today?” asked Cuatro of Dos.
“Love,” said Dos. “As you all know, our Evil one has pledged to La Mala that he will never be cruel to a women. And, or course, you all know as well that if he is cruel to a women La Mala has pledged to kill her own son.”
“Wasn’t she going to kill him if he changed his name from Barragon to Malvado?” asked Cuatro.
“Yes, I think she said she would kill him for both reasons. That is the story I have heard,” replied Dos.
“The mother of Evil is truly Evil,” quipped Cinco.
“Yes,” agreed Dos. “But the fact remains that Malvado may become a less Evil man under the influence of Love. Then he could, possibly, be more Evil on Espiritu. If he was Loved he could curse and revile us more heartily as he would certainly store up Evil in the frustration of his Evil passions in Love. It would be, as the Americans say, a winwin.” With that Dos signed his small piece of paper and deposited it into the AIRETTOL crockery with 5 centavos.
The crew marveled at this bit of logic on the part of Dos. Then each of the other Juan’s publicized his Intention and gave a short explanation.
Tres wrote “Tequila” on his piece of paper. “Maybe Malvado can get too drunk and stop cursing and reviling us for one day. That would be a small victory, and, fortunately, he would likely be meaner and louder the next day. It is again a winwin.” He deposited Intention and he money.
Cuatro said, “I wrote Radio. I have heard that Saints sometimes speak to people through the Radio. Naturally, Malvado is the one who uses the Radio the most. He truly enjoys broadcasting his curses at the other boats and Capitan’s. When he is at his most nasty a Saint may decide to interrupt and give him a message from Heaven. This would, no doubt, have an effect on our Capitan.” Cuatro’s Intention and centavos went into the crockery.
Cinco could think of nothing. He pondered and pondered, but could not design an Intention. He asked the crew, “Can you give me a hint of a good Intention?”
“No,” they all said together.
“Dos said, “You must design your own Intention or it will be a false Intention. No one in the spirit world would ever listen to a false Intention. They are spirits and Saints, and they know a false Intention from a real Intention. A false Intention may even serve to cancel a real Intention as well.”
Cinco thought for a while and then spoke up, “The Motor. I will Intend The Motor on the dingy. If it could suddenly run it would surely be a miracle, a sign from heaven, and influence a good humor on Malvado for a few hours at least.” He wrote and deposited as had the others.
This ritual of the AIRETTOL went on for many months. Many honest Intentions went into the crockery along with 5 centavos and a verbal explanation to shipmates. Some of the Intentions were: Squid, Shrimp, The Virgin, La Mala, Rope, Trawls, Gaff, Chair, Shark, Electricity, La Rana, The Dingy, Fisherman’s Beach, Putas(Putas), Beer, Wave, Scorpion, T Shirts (no one could reason how this intention would work), Prayer, A Bell, A Dog, 2 Cats ( they all agreed that one cat would never suffice as a proper Intention). As the months past the crew ran out of serviceable Intentions and began to write whatever came to mind. Beans, Shoe Laces, Wood, Mouse, Cockroach, Feet, Shoes, Barber, Nail, Diesel, until the crockery of AIRETTOL was full to the brim.
Dos spoke up, “We have room for no more Intentions”
The crew was glad and said “Yes” together.
Dos, as the 1st Mate, said “Then we will wait. Please deal the cards Cuatro and pass me a very small glass of Tequila.”
They waited. They discussed that they would not have to wait long. It seemed to them that the time must come, that the weight of the fullness of their Intentions must have some effect soon. And they were curious of what word would have which effect. Would the Intention “Beans” or “Mouse” somehow make Malvado a good man for an hour or so. Or at least less Evil.
And then something Happened.
It was 4:30 am after a, moonlit, calm, productive night of fishing. Malvado was up in the wheel house, steering Espiritu. The crew was getting ready to haul in the last trawl of the night. A call came in over the Radio. It was Capitan Gonzales of La Rana.
Malvado picked up the receiver and listened. “Malvado, this is Gonzales.
“Oy, Cara de Perro(Face of a Dog) what is it that you want? I am very busy, so make it quick,” answered Malvado, in the expected way.
“Malvado, we are dead in the water due to a broken diesel line and fitting. We have the tubing, but the wrong fitting for connection. Do you have an assortment of fittings that might serve our purpose,” said Gonzales.
“Chingada Madre (Mother Fucker), do you think we are a parts fitter? That we are here on the wide ocean to repair your Barque de Mierda (Shit Boat)?” was Malvados answer. Then he felt a little light headed and experienced a strange feeling in his heart. He looked up at the waning, though very bright, moon through the wheel house window. A grin then came over his face, and he said, “Please, just one moment Gonzales, let me ask the mechanic”
Malvado poked his head out the starboard window of the wheel house and addressed the mechanic, “Cinco, do we have many diesel line fittings? Gonzales has a broken diesel line and fitting and does not have the right fitting. La Rana is dead in the water and a part is needed.”
The crew all stopped what they were doing. Was it happening? Is there an Intention at work here? Is it Radio?
Cinco looked up, hesitated for a moment, and answered, “Yes, Capitan, we have many. We can provide fittings as needed for diesel lines.”
Malvado got back on the Radio. “Capitan Gonzales, it seems we have many fittings. Please give me your position and we can pull our last trawl and head your way.”
Gonzales complied and signed off. The crew looked up at the wheel house, made the sign of the cross together, and continued hauling the last trawl of the night.
Malvado tied off the wheel, throttled the boat to very slow, and came down the stairs from the dog house. He approached the crew and said, “We shall pull the trawl, stow the shrimp and gear, and head to help our friend Gonzales. It is but a short way”
As Malvado moved toward the men he slipped on a few Shrimp that were on the deck at the same time that a small, but powerful, wave hit the starboard side of Espiritu. He lurched, tried to grab a Gaff in its holder on the rail for balance, missed, and launched over the rail into the sea in front of the Trawl as it broke the surface. The crew made the sign of the cross again in unison and set the search lights on the water in front of the Trawl. They saw the fin of a Shark for just a moment flash in the light and Malvado thrash in the light as he was pulled into the surfaced Trawl by the forward motion of the boat. They could hear their Capitan cussing. His cussing and railing became muffled by the surrounding Shrimp. Dos saw that El Capitan was safely in the Trawl and ordered Cinco to lift the Trawl slowly onto the deck.
Cinco laid the Trawl very carefully on the deck, bottom first. Malvado had turned himself around in the Trawl as if to swim out, so his feet were down toward the deck. As the Trawl was lowered the net separated around him and fell slowly to the deck. El Capitan was disrobed of the net. He was left standing in a large pile of small Shrimp. He was cussing like the crew had never heard before, accompanied by the violent waving of his arms. The cussing became louder as the Shrimp sloughed away from him over the deck. Cinco applied the spotlight to Malvado”s face. He was covered with shrimp. He had a hat of Shrimp, Shrimp over both ears, Shrimp in his shirt, Shrimp in his trousers, Shrimp in his rubber boots. His money pocket was filled with a currency of Shrimp. The crew looked upon him as he stopped cussing. Malvado examined his situation. He looked at the pile of Shrimp. He looked at the limp Trawl on the deck. He looked at the 4 Juans as they looked at him. He then suddenly noticed that he was alive, though Shrimpy. Just as suddenly he started laughing, laughing as if he had never laughed before (which was possible).
Then the crew started laughing. They were rolling with laughter. Malvado was plucking shrimp from his pockets, his hair, his pants, and throwing them into the Shrimp hold. “Don’t want to throw away any profits, do I gentlemen,” he proclaimed and started laughing again. He made his way toward the wheel house, mounted the pilots chair, unlashed the wheel, hit the throttle, and headed toward La Rana to hand off the part for the diesel line. Laughing.
45 minutes later the Espiritu pulled up to La Rana. Cinco had prepared a small container of diesel line fittings and tossed them onto the deck of La Rana
Capitan Gonzales picked up the parcel, opened it, nodded his head to Cinco, and in a loud voice said, “This contains the part that we need as well as many others. Thank Capitan Malvado for me.”
Malvado stepped out onto the landing at the wheel house and yelled, “Thank me yourself, here I am.”
Gonzales looked up and said, “Thank you very much Malvado for your kindness.”
“It was nothing my friend,” replied Malvado, “Go with God.:
Gonzales, his eyes as big as moons and his mouth agape at the vision of a benevolent Malvado, answered, “Go with God also.”
Malvado waved and entered the wheel house to begin the journey back to their chosen fishing grounds. He was humming a song from his childhood. The crew looked up as he disappeared behind the wheel house door, made the sign of the cross together, and went below to dinner and the days rest.
There were many centavos in the AIRETTOL crockery. The crew did not tell Malvado the story of the AIRETTOL regarding his temporary conversion, but invited him to a Party the next Sunday afternoon at the Fisherman’s Beach. Somehow he consented, thanked them, and attended. They ate and drank together with their families until the sun went down. La Mala was there with her son, a sight never seen before at the Fisherman’s Beach and unseen for many years in their town. When the women and children were not listening Malvado cussed the crew up one side and down the other for old time’s sake. They were thrilled and offered him a toast to his long health and loud voice for cursing the world around him and his faithful crew.
The next day was Monday, the day to return to fishing. The crew and Malvado arrived at the Fisherman’s Beach at 4 pm. The dingy and crew was towed from the beach, through the small surf, by a fisherman’s ponga with a large motor. Malvado asked Cinco to start the motor. Cinco tried to start the motor.
Cinco looked up at Malvado and said, “Capitan, the motor will not start”
“Again it will not start. So, to get from the Fisherman’s Beach to Espiritu to begin our week of fishing the shrimp, we will again row the dingy. Pardon me, Putsos (Bitches), you will row the dingy. Now, Punetons (Wankers) row this Pinche Culero (Fucking Asshole).
The crew looked up at Malvado as free men to grasp the oars with great power, smiles on their faces.