a Rock n Roll Espionage
absurdist Tale

One More cup of coffee
By Redub Sargent Gary Friday finished his first cup of coffee as he waited to board the plane to Cusco. From Lima it would be a rapid flight, a little over an hour. From there it was a puddle jumper to Puerto Maldonado. How they were going to get from there to a cabin in the middle of the jungle was anyone’s guess.
Gary Friday had done this trip dozens of times before.
He had his international certificate of vaccination ready next to his passport just in case. Usually he carried his Samsonite Delegate trusty briefcase but opted instead for a handicraft wool shoulder bag that he had bought at one of the souvenir shops near Macchu Pichu on his last visit. His job entailed that he either had to dress up or dress down, depending on the locale of his work. In this situation he wore blue jeans and black new balance running shoes, and a plain off white all cotton button down shirt that he got in Kathmandu. He noticed that dressing down took about the same amount of time as dressing up. Either way he felt like an actor preparing for a role. But this time would be different because of the costar: Juan Santiago the medicine man.
That was who Gary was expecting to meet up with. The man was an enigma. He had succeeded in eluding himself from any authorities of the western world who emitted any sort of vibe that had to do with greed. That is why Gary was the chosen one. Because he possessed virtues that nobody else on the team had. Well, at least not in the amounts that he did. Namely, integrity.
Gary believed that without integrity life couldn't work. He had experimented on himself in his own life. Breaking his own moral codes periodically just to see what would happen, as if he could measure hypothesis after hypothesis through witnessing what worked and what didn't. This next project was not settling easily in his brain. Hadn’t he already earned his stripes in his 25 years of active duty? What exactly did they want him to find out about this old medicine man? That's what confused him more then anything. Try as he may he had a hard time coming to terms with the ambiguity of the duty set before him. He would be recording every nuance, all conversations, and going over it with a fine tooth comb. He made a vow to himself that after retirement, he would go back on to this land without any electrical devices on his person. But for now, he had a job to do. Finishing the thick tar like coffee that he had bought on the side of the road 30 minutes earlier, he tossed the cup into the small trash can and boarded the plane. He knew that drinking the coffee wasn't the wisest idea. It probably would have been more advantageous for him to skip the caffeine and sleep on the short flight. But the caffeine had become part of his ritual. Not an addiction as much as a comfort. He leaned back into his chair and thought about his children. They weren't children any more. His youngest was in his 20s, already a force in the rock and roll world to be reckoned with. It was surreal the heights to which he had achieved so at so young an age. He was proud of his son but they maintained an ambivalent relationship. There was respect, but too much pride on both sides to really bond. and where was the time? 'Maybe after I retire,' he thought to himself,' I'll see them more.'
The flight was over before it began, and Juan Santiago met Gary Friday right as he was coming off of the plane. The medicine man nodded at him unceremoniously and motioned for Gary to follow him. Usually in the past, his hosts had been much warmer to him. What was happening here? Now Gary began to wonder how they were going to be getting to the cabin, which was supposedly about 25 miles away. “Do I have to change out my money so I can pay for a cab?” The medicine man grunted softly and shook his head. Gary figured maybe they were going to take motorcycles. He had done that before, several years back, when he was much younger. He was shocked at the callousness and disregard of his almost senior citizen status. Of course at the time, he scarcely considered the fact that Juan was just about the same age as he was, give or take a year or two.
To the north of the airport was a dirt road that stretched out towards the mountains. The sun was at an apex and was beginning to beat down on them. “So we gonna jump on some motorcycles or what?’ asked Gary. “We walk,” grumbled Juan incredulously. “Time to cleanse out the toxic poisons you have been building up. Only one way to do that: sweat.” Seargent Friday stopped dead in his tracks. “Wait just a minute now, sir. Hiking a marathon through Peruvian wild lands is not in my job description.” Juan Santiago held a finger to his lips. ‘Silencio- silence.” “I know what the hell silencio means. I’m fluent in spanish, along with six other languages in case they haven’t told you.”
Sargent Friday was glad he had brought plenty of water and packed lightly. But he still felt indignified over this long walk. “The hell do they think I am?” He thought to himself. His thoughts were bursting with anger, like screams of injustice taking over his whole body. “after nearly 3 decades of service this is what they give me? I thought I was in for some kind of transformational journey. Instead they give me some gap toothed lunatic. The head case in charge of the asylum.”
The medicine man interrupted his thoughts. “You’re murdering me with your thinking, aren’t you? Start to breath your hatred out like this.” He began breathing slowly and very loudly, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. Then he covered one nostril with his index finger and proceeded with the exercise, eventually switching nostrils. He noticed that Sargent Friday was not following the rules. “So I suppose you already have the rules figured out. You don’t need to learn from me, or anyone else for that matter. No wonder you look so confused.” 
With that, Gary put his finger over his mouth and said, ‘Shhhh, silencio.” Then, “see, I listen better then you thought, DON’T I?
The medicine man didn't speak for a while. Neither did Gary Friday. In different circumstances, he would have been entranced by the beauty of this region. But this project was not off to a productive start. Besides feeling oppressed by his host, he felt bitter about the progressive americanization of a country he had once loved escaping to. It was more convenient now. There were trains up to tourist sights that used to be attainable by hard core trekking or uneasy bus trips. He even noticed that his old favorite Cafe in Cusco, ayullo de cusco, had been replaced by Starbucks. Was it selfish of him to want a place to escape to? He wondered what the medicine man thought about it. ‘Maybe he’s taking his anger out on me,’ he thought to himself.
Several minutes went by and there was a continual hush.The medicine man kept walking in silence. He let Gary think. The only thing that could be heard were footsteps and labored breathing. Then a few minutes later he spoke again.
'Thing is, your people have finally come as far as they can with machines. Yet it solved nothing. So now, more people then ever are coming for the resources that lie in two places.' He put his right hand over his heart, and then covered his head with his left. 'You can have all the money in the world, but if you haven't learned the ways of the heart, the ways of the mind, you are more poor then the poorest beggar in lima.'
Gary nodded his head in agreement. 'I hear what you are saying. I apologize for the ignorance of my people. But I can only apologize so much.'
Juan continued. 'I learned the ways of the world. Your people put me through their schools. Some considered me a techno shaman. Because I am adept at both worlds. The ancient and the modern. Both have not eluded me. There are things I may choose to show you that will make you stronger. But I do not trust you yet. I had a friend from the west who taught me the phrase, 'respect is earned.' He did not earn it from me. Nor have you. I will teach you somethings. But I will pull away if I feel trust wanting.'
Gary felt a knot of disapointment churning in his stomach. 'Did we not have the agreement to complete initiation? The mimosahuasca ritual? Did you forget your promise?'
Juan stomped a foot into the ground. 'I said in good faith. This is what I told your masters. You do not want this experience without working for it first. It is up to you whether you will count the cost, and finish what you've started.'
Gary was livid internally but was not about to argue with Juan. He would save his anger for a telephone call to his superiors. He was beginning to hate this so called medicine man. What had he done to earn his derision? He had already renounced his old ways of materialism. Now he was risking his life to go out into the jungle with whom he was now past beginning to consider a half wit. He was not about to apologize for being reared in a callous culture- he had worked too hard to overcome the mistakes of his own people.
'Don't be a hypocrite. If you want me to respect where you came from you should respect what I've gone through to understand you, and to make reparations-'
'No more talking.'
'Excuse me?'
With that, Juan pointed the opposite direction from where they were walking, to where the sun was beginning to set. 'GO BaCK NOW,' he firmly said.
'Go What?' He stammered, slightly shocked.
'Go back to your land. This was a big misdeed on my part. I thought we had a better comprensivo. I thought you were further advanced on the true path.'
Gary crossed his arms. They both stood their ground for a moment, staring into each other's weather beaten faces. The fierce eye contact these men made with each other was strong, neither one giving over to yielding. Without breaking focus, Juan touched his shoulder, and said, 'if you come, no more speaking until morning.'
Gary was even more livid but kept his composure. He had no choice at this point. There was a continually silent hush between Gary and the medicine man.Gary was lost in his angry thoughts. Somebody back home was in trouble for putting his ass on the line like this. Then the medicine man stopped in front of a small patch of nicandra physalodes, or 'apple of peru' flowers. He sniffed one of them. Then he looked up at Gary.
'Your people have created a lot of change for us,' he said, as if reading Gary's mind. Gary nodded silently. He had nothing to add. He just wanted to listen to this man, trying desperately as possible to control his temper. 'When I was a young man, your people began to come here seeking wisdom. Some of them found what they were looking for, and some of them didn't.' He paused for a second, and gazed across the mountains. 'There has been damage done. But only a certain amount of damage. Our people will persevere. These mountains, too, will survive. I’m not certain I can say the same of your people. Unless they are truly willing to change.”
Puerto maldonado had been beautiful but Gary no longer noticed the beauty. He had not been in a 'wild card' situation for over a decade. He had been used to everything in it's right place, with a certain order. His job had never been easy, but he was able to have complete control for the most part. He had never dealt with anyone like Juan before, and there had never been a problem with communication with anybody else on his peruvian journeys. Suddenly promises were being broken. Or had they been? Whose promises? after all, Juan had not directly given him his word about the ritual. Had there been a miscommunication between his superiors, himself, and the third party? Had he been lied to by his superiors? Or had Juan lied to him? There really was no way to know. He felt, for the first time in years, in over his head. He felt too old for this, and all of the sudden wished he hadn't taken the assignment. But at the same time, he felt lost. The last time he felt this lost was as a teenager. The memories began to flood his mind.
They got to their destination and Gary Friday was famished and too tired to think straight. The luxury of the place surprised him as he had expected less. He would have been happier with less comfort but also less surprises. Juan showed him to his cot, which was delicately decorated with blankets intricately woven into bright colors.
'Sleep now. Do not say a word. You will eat in the morning.'
Gary did not want to argue, he just wanted to sleep. He fell down on his bed and kicked off his shoes. He soon fell into a dream. In his dreams, he kept being offered gifts that were already his. Gold was given to him that he had already possessed. Things that he had owned had been stolen. Material objects, money, things that he felt owed came back to him. He did not understand the dream.
He was awoken by Rosa, the guest worker. Gary did not know if the worker was somehow related to Juan. His daughter perhaps? She looked to be about twenty one. She placed a plate full of kinoa salad down on his night table, along with a fork and napkin. He sat up and thanked her. 'Muchas Gracias, senora.'
'Te nada. This is salad with kinoa,' she said. 'Kinoa is a grain that makes you very strong. Our pollos grow muy gordo off this.' She smiled. 'also onions, peppers, y radishes.'
Gary was no stranger to this type of food. He had radically altered his diet years ago and was used to this sort of fare. This was one other reason why he was chosen for the job. Most of the other guys on the team were meat and potatoes consumers. They did not care for what they described as bird food. He dug in voraciously, eating like a ravenous boar. 'Senora, no agua?' He said to Rosa, making the signal for drinking.
She shook her head no.
'ke? no comprende.'
Juan who had gone un-noticed was carving wood in the next room. His voice boomed.
'There will be no drinking for you until two hours has gone by after you are finished.' He paused. 'It is for reasons of digestion. Don't ask now - you will understand later.'
'What the h-?' he stopped himself. Now this was getting to be too much. Water deprivation? 'So you're feeding me like a fat chicken but no water?'
'The water will upset your digestion, ' juan blurted it out. This will affect your brain, your training, as everything is connected. But since you think you know it all, and cannot bring yourself to dismiss your pride, you may have a glass of water. Rosa, por favor-'
'No Rosa. Forget it.' He was not about to be manipulated into guilt for being thirsty of all things. He excused himself to use the bano. Only he didn't have to use the restroom. He locked the door, and sitting down on the toilet, pulled out his cellphone. He dialed. Then he sreThey got to their destination and Gary Friday was famished and too tired to think straight. The luxury of the place surprised him as he had expected less. He would have been happier with less comfort but also less surprises. Juan showed him to his cot, which was delicately decorated with blankets intricately woven into bright colors.
'Sleep now. Do not say a word. You will eat in the morning.'
Gary did not want to argue, he just wanted to sleep. He fell down on his bed and kicked off his shoes. He soon fell into a dream. In his dreams, he kept being offered gifts that were already his. Gold was given to him that he had already possessed. Things that he had owned had been stolen. Material objects, money, things that he felt owed came back to him. He did not understand the dream.
He was awoken by Rosa, the guest worker. Gary did not know if the worker was somehow related to Juan. His daughter perhaps? She looked to be about twenty one. She placed a plate full of kinoa salad down on his night table, along with a fork and napkin. He sat up and thanked her. 'Muchas Gracias, senora.'
'Te nada. This is salad with kinoa,' she said. 'Kinoa is a grain that makes you very strong. Our pollos grow muy gordo off this.' She smiled. 'also onions, peppers, y radishes.'
Gary was no stranger to this type of food. He had radically altered his diet years ago and was used to this sort of fare. This was one other reason why he was chosen for the job. Most of the other guys on the team were meat and potatoes consumers. They did not care for what they described as bird food. He dug in voraciously, eating like a ravenous boar. 'Senora, no agua?' He said to Rosa, making the signal for drinking.
She shook her head no.
'ke? no comprende.'
Juan who had gone un-noticed was carving wood in the next room. His voice boomed.
'There will be no drinking for you until two hours has gone by after you are finished.' He paused. 'It is for reasons of digestion. Don't ask now - you will understand later.'
'What the h-?' he stopped himself. Now this was getting to be too much. Water deprivation? 'So you're feeding me like a fat chicken but no water?'
'The water will upset your digestion, ' juan blurted it out. This will affect your brain, your training, as everything is connected. But since you think you know it all, and cannot bring yourself to dismiss your pride, you may have a glass of water. Rosa, por favor-'
'No Rosa. Forget it.' He was not about to be manipulated into guilt for being thirsty of all things. He excused himself to use the bano. Only he didn't have to use the restroom. He locked the door, and sitting down on the toilet, pulled out his cellphone. He dialed. Then he screamed.
'Debon, what the HELL are you doing sending me out to this kangaroo court in the jungle?' He tried his best to lower his voice but was bursting at the seams. The veins in his neck all but popped off. 'Everything I do is dictated to me. I can't take a piss without permission- i feel like i'm back in prep school.'
'Do you choose to abort your mission?'
'No. But I have never been thrown out to the goddamn wolves like this. How could you do this? I'm not 25 years old any more goddamn it.'
'Come on Friday. You knew you were in for a challenge. How can you tell me that we didn't educate you about the unpredictability of this tour?'
'You always say it's unpredictable. But you never told me I'd be with an SS general in medicine man makeup. I feel deceived.'
'You don't have to do anything you don't want to.'
'I'm going to give it one more day. If it gets much worse i'm hitching the next flight back.' He closed his phone, flushed the toilet and washed his hands. Opening the door, Juan was standing at the other side. He glared into his eyes.
'You cannot trust me, then I cannot trust you,' Juan said to him. He genuinely looked hurt.
'Were you listening to me?'
'Stop talking and follow me. We are completing phase one of the mission. This will take about 77 minutes. Upon completion you may drink 2 cups of water if necessary.'
Gary was about to snidely, sarcastically thank him - but he bit his toungue. Truth be told, he knew the old codger knew what he was doing. He just didn't like to be told what to do so sternly, especially by someone who was around the same age, and as much as he would never admit it, not formally educated in the way he was.
'You are a poised egoist, ' said Juan. 'You make a show to the world. You want to be a bigshot, a big humanitarian with books in libraries. Big star. You will never know anything until you become humble as the dust.'
'Oh is that so?'
'Yes.'
'and so now, you're trying to break me down. Right?' He got loud. 'Trying to crush the large yet fragile ego of a white man. Well, you're doing a good job.'
They walked over to a side office that had a desk and a couch. Near the couch was a coffee table. Juan sat down at his desk and had Gary sit down on the couch. He slumped down, and noticed a black box with small controls on it. The box had no power source, but was connected via copper wire to a chrome plated piece of metal the size of a clipboard. He touched the knobs on the panel of the box. There were four knobs. Juan said nothing. In the right hand corner of the box there was a metal control switch. He began clicking it up and down, trying to figure out what it was.
'What is this piece of junk?' He said, looking up at Juan. Juan pulled out a notepad and began scribbling in it. 'This makes no sense.' He flipped it over to check for batteries or any alternate power source he could find. 'How do you plug this in, and what is it for? I mean for godsakes, at least a solar panel, something.'
'Please continue to play with the knobs. But as you do, visualize yourself floating into the sky. Close your eyes, please.'
Now he was certain he was being duped. Never had he seen what he would label as such absurd pseudo science. and his mind was opened to possibilities. But he would not be taken for a fool. 'What the HECK are you talking to me about? are you trying to make me play the role of the idiot?'
"I am an idiot, we all are-idiots. Now do as I say.' Gary Friday closed his eyes.
He decided to use this opportunity to rest. If he wasn't going to have his expectations met, he just wouldn't play ball. He figured he would pretend to, but his mind would be elsewhere. But the game just seemed to get stranger and stranger. Juan pulled out a medal helmet from under his desk. It had copper wires attached to it. Gary kept his eyes glued shut.
'Keep your eyes just like that,' coaxed Juan. He got up and put the helmet on Gavin's skull. Then he pulled out the copper wires and ducktaped them to the chrome plate on the coffee table, that was also attached to the black box. Then he went and sat back down at his desk. 'Think of somebody you love very much,' he said matter of factly. Gary's posture softened. He almost thought of his ex wife. Even though they had been divorced five years he still had a soft spot in his heart for her. 'Now think of who you love the most.' Gary hated to play favorites with his kids. But he chose Robert to concentrate on. He thought about the last time he saw him, having lunch with him at an elegant restaurant in santa monica. 'Have you got a photograph of this person?'
Gary had become compliant. He pulled out a black and white print of his son that he had in his wallet. It was actually a band photo of jawtojaw. He had ripped it out of a magazine. 'Please place it on the chrome tray.' Juan decided to match Gary's newfound complacency with courtesy. It seemed to be working.
The picture at this point was absurd. Officer Gary Friday was sitting in a cabin in the jungle of peru, a mad medicine man placing a helmet on his head that was connected to a black box and chrome tray with no power supply. But Gary's resistance had been overcome. He drifted into flashbacks. The terrible times he had in his youth. They had prepared him for his rough career but that didn't mean he wanted to revisit old memories. Who was controlling him like this? Was the fake black box connected to nothing but a helmet on his head and a chrome plate actually working?
Juan began to stroke his chin and psychically give himself a pat on the back for hard work done. It hadn't been easy to subjugate this brainwashed egomaniac. But this medicine man was determined to change the world, by changing one asshole at a time.
"My Dad was an asshole," said Sargent Friday.
"What is your people's expression?" Lamented Juan, "The papaya doesn't fall far from the tree?"
His father had been a hard boiled SOB. Sent him off to military prep school at the age of fourteen. It was fine with him at the time. He could go through the motions and draw on his own time. His dream job had been to become an architect. He planned to persue this as soon as it was time for college. But as some have said before, 'life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.' He never dreamed of what could happen next.