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NAVIGATION
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This story is by GuiltyAnnie (aka Mistress of Night in Littlepaty's Forum)
 Just thought You might like to know that.
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Mariana Villalobos Daltrey was untying her white satin robe as she heard the first vibrant notes of a trumpet outside her balcony. She knew the melody by heart, it was actually one of her favorites, now however as the music reached her ears the words had taken a deeper meaning. She slowly walked to the balcony door and leaned on the side listening in agony. Mariana closed her eyes and let the music overwhelmed her with confusing emotions.
“El dia que te encontre me enamore. Tu sabes que yo nunca lo he negado. Con saña me lograste enloquecer, y yo cai en tu trampa ilusionado. De pronto todo aquello se acabo, faltaste a la promesa de adorarnos. Me hundiste en el olvido por creer, que a ti no llegarian jamas los años “(The day that I found you I fell in love. You know that I have never denied it. Maliciously you were able to infatuate me, and dreamingly I fell into your trap. So suddenly all of that came to an end, you failed to keep our promise of adoration. You sunk me into oblivion in your belief, that the years would never reach you.)
Outside Jackie stood apart from the mariachi and repeatedly requested for louder, stronger playing from the musicians. In his hands a half-empty bottled of tequila found its way to his lips more than once, and the song continued.
“Por tu maldito amor; no puedo terminar con tantas penas. Quisiera reventarme hasta las venas, por tu maldito amor, por tu maldito amor. Por tu maldito amor. No logro acomodar mis sentimientos, y el alma se me sigue consumiendo. Por tu maldito amor, por tu maldito amor.”(For your wretched love; I can’t seem to end all my sorrows. I’d like to burst my veins, for your wretched love, for your wretched love. For your wretched love. I can’t seem to decide my feelings, and my soul continues to consume. For your wretched love, for your wretched love.)The voice of the singer was deep and stricken with alien mourning. "Y ya pa que quiero la tumba, si ya me enterraste en vida " (What do I want a grave for if you’ve already buried me alive…)The statement pierced through Mariana’s heart as if Jackie’s own voice had made it.
She felt a tear running down her cheek and wiped it in fear that someone would come in and hear the serenade. She realized that it was only a matter of seconds before she was joined by her new husband, so she decided to go out into the balcony and look one last time into the eyes of the man she had refused.
“No quiero que regreses nunca no. Prefiero la derrota entre mis manos. Si ayer tu nombre tanto pronuncie, hoy mirame rompiendome los labios. Por tu maldito amor; No puedo terminar con tantas penas. Quisiera reventarme hasta las venas, por tu maldito amor. Por tu maldito amor. Por tu maldito amor, no logro acomodar mis sentimientos, y el alma se me sigue consumiendo; Por tu maldito amor, por tu maldito amor, por tu maldito amor…Por tu bendito amor.”(I don’t ever want you to return, no. I prefer my defeat within my hands. If yesterday your name I unceasingly pronounced, today you watch me tear my lips apart. For your wretched love; I can’t seem to end all my sorrows. I’d like to burst my veins, for your wretched love. For your wretched love. For your wretched love, I can’t seem to decide my feelings,and my soul continues to consume; For your wretched love, for your wretched love, for your wretched love... For your BLESSED love.)
She stood above him and their eyes meet instantly. Nothing was said, no words exchanged between them, but there was nothing that either of them could offer as an explanation to their foolishness.
As the song came to an end Jackie took his last shot of the liquor in his hands. In a split second when his eyes returned to her he saw John Daltrey approaching Mariana from behind and placing his hand on her shoulder. She gasped but did not turn around and kept her eyes glued to Jackie’s.
“How much…” Jackie asked the man. “How much do you want for her?”
There was no response.
“How much do you want for your love?” He asked Mariana.
At the sound of Jackie’s remark she turned and walked back into her room with nothing but a glance at John.
The two men remained looking at each other, their stares ablaze. The tension between them grew to an enormous amount. And as the mariachi slipped away the void between father and son became irreparable.
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Three months before...
John Daltrey Junior, better known as Jackie Junior, took his first step on Mexican soil on a sunny Monday morning in the year 1997; he was twenty nine years old. The only child of the infamous Scottish drug lord John Daltrey, Jackie was born with a natural charm that was not obscured by his immense arrogance. Following in his father’s footsteps Jackie took control of one half of the family business when he was only twenty six. Three years later he had known all indulgence ever conceived and women fell at his feet.
He was a little over six feet tall, tan skin, the blackest of hair, his mother’s own had been the color of ebony. But his fortune was the emerald of his eyes and the intensity with which they pierced through any who had the pleasure, as Jackie himself would point out, to look upon them. It was the biggest cliché in the world but Jackie Junior was tall, dark and handsome, not to mention filthy rich. He was every woman’s dream, and their nightmare all in one, for Jackie saw women as nothing but a distraction. The woman who graced his arm today was only holding the place for the one who would come within the next hour. He discarded of them as if he were eating apples. A single bite with a hint of sourness or the faint essence of monotony and he was done with them, who wants a bad apple after all? This he had learned from his father, it was perhaps the wisest thing his father ever said to him.
How ironic that was now that Jackie found himself in the foreign city of Hermosillo Sonora due to his father’s request that he be present at his upcoming wedding. John Daltrey was to be married to Mariana Guadalupe Villalobos Huerta, the owner of one of the biggest Haciendas in all of Mexico. Jackie’s father had told him that the Villalobos’ family was famous for breeding Mustang horses, a tradition and trade that many saw as unworthy since the Mustang was a mixed breed horse, but that the first Villalobos believed to be a sacred testimony to the strength of their own race. At first Daltrey Senior was impressed not by the history of the family and the horses, but by the speed of the stallions. The Villalobos’ fortune was made by racing their animals against the best purebreds around the world. Incredibly, Jackie was later told by his father, that there were even songs written by the folk people about the Villalobos’ winning horses. They called them ‘Los Caudillos’ (The Chiefs) and the Hacienda were they came from, Villa Negra (Black Hill) became famous throughout the Mexican nation. Jackie couldn’t care less about all that bull. It was bad enough that he was practically forced to come to this hot desert land and had to stay for over a month until the wedding, on top of it all his father had managed to give him a history lesson agonizingly unnecessary and boring as the depth of hell.
As Jackie tried to block the music emerging from the speakers above his head in the airport, he wondered if it was too late to return to Scotland. He would have been content with a phone call from his father telling him he had eloped. He could not understand why the big fuzz over marrying again, at his father’s age he should have been planning his funeral not a wedding. The man was nearly seventy for fook’s sake! Consequently Jackie presumed his future mother-in-law would be a lot younger than his father, an old spinster, more likely in her forty’s or early fifty’s. Jackie flinched as he recalled the woman’s name. Her mother must have had a hard time bringing her into the world, for only that could explain the need to burden the child with such a horrifically long name, which Jackie could not spell much less pronounce. At least she had her own money and was not a gold digger like every other woman his father had bedded. Miss Villalobos was the sole proprietor of her Hacienda and business. Her father Don Joaquin Ignacio Villalobos, whom John Daltrey took great pride in sharing had lived to be ninety years old, had been gravely ill for the past years and she took control of the place before he even died. It is obvious that when her old man bit the dust she was named heiress to his entire fortune. She too was an only child like Jackie, a couple centuries apart in birth Jackie was sure of that, but only children to two powerful men nonetheless. That was probably the only thing they would have in common, unless she too despised the awful airport music slowly torturing Jackie to death.
Why Mexico? Why not Australia, or Italy? Jackie speculated in silence. When a year ago his father first told him that he was taking time off from the business due to his failing health Jackie had thought he was joking. What failing health? Much to Jackie’s dismay the man was still quite strong. Sure his asthma had been a little worse in the months previous to his decision but we all have to die of something. But John Daltrey was not having any of that, he packed his belongings and fled to the dry rural town of San Pedro outside of Hermosillo to visit his old gambling pal Joaquin. Dry land meant no more asthma attacks, and if that meant no more father trailing behind him and telling him what to do and how to do it Jackie was happy. His father’s choice for relocation surprised Jackie; he knew nothing about the place. He was not even sure his father could speak the language; actually he knew he could not. Now it was obvious why his father was staying in San Pedro, he was marrying that woman and instantly
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