The Alien's Luggage
José Rodríguez, 1995
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Copyright 2012 José Rodríguez
"Almost there, compadre. Almost there," said Tobias pointing with his machete up the dried creek. They had been climbing over boulders, roots, and falling trees for the last half hour, following the steep gulch.
"I don't know why in hell I came here with you," said his cousin Ernesto. "I could be at Ambrosio's having a cold one, but no, here I am, following you up this goddamn mountain."
"You'll see it, and then you'll have to say I was right," said Tobias, charging up the riverbed. His smooth forehead shone with perspiration under his straw hat. The tree canopy above kept the sun out of sight but also shielded them from the sea breeze, and a thick humidity stuck to their bodies and drenched their clothes.
"You're nuts, you know that, and I'm crazier than you for following you," said Ernesto, panting and trying to keep up with his energized cousin. Tobias stopped atop a mossy boulder and pointed his machete to something still out of Ernesto's sight. "There it is! I told you!"