The Green Lady 3
Campos Verdes
"Green Fields my ass…" Alamo Joe Rogan commented as he parked his truck in a parking lot by the local sheriff's office.
The town lay in the center of a miniature dust bowl, not a hint of greenery to be found anywhere, except for pathetic-looking little semi-gardens out in front of the small houses they had passed coming here.
"You speak Spanish?" Eric Cord asked.
"Some," Rogan turned off the ignition. "It helps in my line of work."
"What's going on here?" Eric Cord got out of the truck.
"Don't know." Rogan looked around. "Looks like a festival…"
People were busy putting green wreathes up on the streetlights, on windows of homes and businesses.
There was also a large poster on the side of a local bank, and Alamo Joe went still at the sight.
A young woman wearing flowing robes, green of hair, eye, and skin…
He had seen her, or someone very much like her, in a dream once, not all that long ago…
"Rogan?" Cord's voice brought him back. "You all right?"
"Yeah…" Rogan locked the truck, turned to the Sheriff's Office, just in time to meet the Sheriff as he was coming out.
"Well hi there!" the man looked to Rogan and Cord jovially. "Sheriff Monte Walsh. You're here just in time for the festival!"
"The…festival?" Cord asked.
"Yeah…the Feast of La Santa Dama del Maiz…"
"The…Holy…Lady of the Corn?" Rogan hazarded a guess.
"You speak Spanish?" the Sheriff looked amazed.
"Some," Rogan cast a sardonic look in Cord's direction. "I'm Joe Rogan, my associate is Eric Cord. We're Bounty Hunters out of LA. Was hoping I could use your office phone and check in with my Bail Bondsman, Eddie Armonni."
"Not for the next couple of days," Walsh apologized. "We only have the festival around every fifty years, so everything pretty much comes to a halt during Festival Week. For folk hereabouts, it's bigger than Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Easter combined. You're welcome to stay for the duration. It's a fun time, food, rides, and at the end, the Mayor chooses the Queen of the Corn."
"If she's Queen of the Corn, why is she Green?" Eric Cord asked.
"Let's go across the street," Walsh said. "And I'll tell you guys the story over coffee."
…..
Enrique Santiago, our Mayor explained it to me. He said, Monte, my friend, this here Festival is what a Roman Catholic would call a Christianized Pagan Ritual…
Of course, back in the old days, before the Conquistadors, and other White Folks came here, the natives sacrificed their Queens of the Corn, in order to insure a bountiful harvest.
We do things differently now. Last Queen of the Corn went to Hollywood, to make her name in pictures. Don't know if she made it out there. But she never came back, so maybe she found something after all.
…..
Much to Eric Cord's surprise, the small inn's prices were quite reasonable; cheap, even…
And it was a proper inn, with a cozy little restaurant-specializing in Tex Mex-on the ground floor.
"We can afford it," Rogan had said. "And there's nothing wrong about taking a week off. Just remember to be careful, Cord. If you have to…Change…get away from town,"
"I think I'll be able to hide in your truck," Cord had agreed. He was fairly sure the Beast trusted Rogan-and his truck-enough by now.
Just one thing bothered him.
"Rogan…is anything wrong?"
"No. Why?"
"When you saw that poster on the wall, you looked like you had just seen a ghost."
"No, Cord," Rogan had sighed. "I'm fine…"
…..
Damn, but Eric Cord was one perceptive sonofabitch. Not much Rogan could do about that.
Except maybe not to give myself away…
That poster of a green lady. He had seen her before. She had spoken to him, had said three words.
Come find me…