Author's webpage: http://members.tripod.com/luxshine/
1 of November is Innocent Saints' day in Mexico, when the spirits of death children return to their homes to spend one night with their parents, 2 of November is All Saints' eve, when all the spirits of the death return to their homes, to share one meal with their living relatives. It's one of our most ancient traditions, since it has pre-Spanish roots. Usually, we always invite our friends to share the meal we make in the 2nd.
This is the second story on a series. The next part will be out around Dec. 10.
Notes, as always, at the end.
Disclaimer: This has been written with just the enjoyment of fans in mind. I'm not making any profit with this, and I don't intent to.
Dedicated to everyone who has lost the chance to say something important to a loved one.
Rating: Humor, PG, M/M premise, and, of course, mexican liquor that isn't
legal in some parts.
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Mexican Nights II
Spirits of Pulque
By: Adalisa Zrate
"Ray... ?"
"Yeah, Benny, what's the matter, this time?"
"Ah... I need your help... I seem to have another problem with a Mexican tradition..."
"It doesn't involve Tequila, does it?"
"Ah, no... none that I'm aware of at this moment..."
"Then I'm your man. I'll be there as soon as my shift is over."
"Thank you kindly, Ray."
"Yeah, whatever."
Ray hung up the phone and sighed deeply. It had been almost two months since he, Benny, Kowalsky and Turnbull had gone to a traditional Mexican party and ended drunk with tequila... He still could remember the hangover. The fact that Benny had yet another trouble with the same traditions wasn't any reassuring. He would have to be very careful and double check all the drinks.
"What's going on" Stan Kowalsky sat in the empty chair in front of his desk, very puzzled. Ray couldn't help but smile. One of the consequences of their Mexican experience was their weak friendship that was much better than their former strong rivalry... And since they had woken up naked in Benny's apartment after the Mexican Independence day, it wasn't much of a surprise.
"Fraser needs help with another Mexican holiday."
"Oh... Does it include Mariachi' suits or Tequila?"
"None that he mentioned."
"Maybe Turnbull and I can drop by later." Stan had a silly grin on his face as he mentioned the other Mountie, and Ray simply ignored him with a nod as he returned to his work. Kowalsky and Turnbull's blooming romance, another result from the 16th Party was boring him since he had much more interesting things to think about... Like his own lover.
"What is that?" Ray asked, pointing to the decorated table in the center of Fraser's apartment.
"It's an "Altar de Muertos", Ray...Or so Mrs. Guzman called it."
"Mrs. Guzman?"
"She's my neighbor from apartment 4C. She is a very good friend of Mrs. Garcia..." As Fraser tried to explain, both women entered the apartment, carrying two big bowls. Behind them, a small boy, Mrs. Guzman's son, carried two weird looking skulls, heavily ornate, as big as his hands followed by Maria Garcia, who had two big flower pots full with yellow-orange flowers which petals fell all over the floor as she walked.
"Es la ltima" Mrs. Guzman said, as she placed the bowl she carried in the decorated table. Ray stared amazed, as his nose identified the smell coming out from it as bolongesa sauce and spaghetti. One of his father's favorites. "Please, have a good, fun night. For you and your fathers."
"Our fathers?!" Ray's eyes grew with surprise as the Mexican woman smiled at him. "What's all this about?".
"It's Da de Muertos." Answered the woman, while she took one of the flowers that Maria was carrying and gave it to the shocked detective. "In Mexico we always give our dead people a party, with the food they liked best... We made this altar for your father, and Contestable Fraser's father... To thank you for what you have done."
Ray wanted to say something. Anything. That his father had been a lousy father. That he never felt anything for the old man, that he had no father... But as he opened his mouth, the little boy handed him one of the skulls with a sign in it's head, 'Pap de Ray' written with shaky letters. "It's your calaverita de Azucar for your dad." The kid said, and Ray had to smile.
"Thanks Mrs. Guzman. I'm sure Pop would have liked this." He said, and placed the skull at the side of the one marked 'Pap de Fraser'. He saw Mrs. Garcia giving his lover a couple of instructions, and then, they were alone again, facing the ornated table.
It was a common table, with a white cloth over it. And, over the cloth, someone had placed cut paper carpets: Orange and Purple. Over the carpets, there was a myriad of different dishes, some Canadian, some Italian... and a incredible variety that had to be Mexican since Ray had never seen them in his life. There was also a few bread pieces, which had some pieces that simulated bones, and a couple of bottles of Whiskey, a six pack of his father's favorite beer... Some jars full of some weird looking white liquid. In the center, where the two 'calaveritas' rested, there were two photographs. One shown a Mountie in his fourties, and Ray knew it had to be Robert Fraser. The other was very known to him, since it was his father.
"Soo... What do we do now?" He asked, as he studied the beautiful ornate skull that was dedicated to his father, trying to see all the flower petals that were plastered in it's forehead.
"Well, I'm not too familiar with the tradition, but I believe this meal was intended for our fathers..."
"Fraser, our Fathers are dead."
"Ah... oh... yes. But Mexican people believe that the souls of their dear departed come back tonight, and since they're hungry, they need to eat. That's what the food is for, and I do believe the flowers are to show them the way in..."
"That explains it. We let it rot while waiting for a ghost to eat it."
Fraser opened his mouth, then closed it. He never discussed with Ray the fact that his father kept appearing in front of him, or at least, that he used to until the short lived trip to Canada with Kowalsky... he didn't want his lover to think he had gone insane. Breathing deeply, he smiled and gave a weak smile. "That's just silly, Ray. We can eat the food in their name."
"Just the two of us? This is enough to feed an army."
"We could call Turnbull and Stan... Or maybe your family?"
"Ma is preparing to go to Florida, and Maria and the kids are still sorting out the candies they got yesterday. You want Frannie here?" Ray smiled as Fraser eyes grew wide and scared at the mention of his sister, and pulled out his cell phone. "I'll call Kowalsky"
An hour later, two cops and two Mounties were sitting at a new table, put out by Fraser in front of the Altar. Even when Kowalsky and Turnbull had arrived soon after the call, none of them dared to touch anything on the table in front of them.
Finally, Ray rose and picked up carefully the bowl that contained the pasta. "I think this should be safe enough to eat"
"Ray, I don't think Mrs. Garcia or Mrs. Guzman would want to poison us. Everything on that shrine must be edible. " Fraser pointed. "It would be rude not to eat everything... or at least try to."
"It was exactly that attitude that got us in trouble last time, Fraser" Stan complained, as his hand reached to take Turnbull's.
"Do you think that, Stan? That I'm a problem for you?" Turnbull asked with hurt filled eyes, his own particular version of the 'Mountie Look' that seemed to work in Stan as well as Fraser's did on Ray, making him feel terribly guilty.
"Is not that, Rennie... I was thinking on getting drunk, going to give the Ice Queen a serenade... and kissing in front of her, just that." Stan said, kissing his lover briefly to reassure him.
At the end, the Canadians convinced their American lovers that the only polite thing to do was try a little of everything in the traditional Mexican food, and they had a very good time tasting the Acitron, and the Camotes. But then Turnbull tried a Chile Relleno, since they knew that in the United States Chiles weren't really hot, and eat it would be safe. But what they didn't knew was that Mrs. Guzman's mother, who lived in Mexico, had the habit to smuggle different foods for her daughter, especially alcoholic drinks and Chile, every time she visited, or that Mrs. Guzman's daughter wasn't very experienced in cleaning them and had left all the seeds inside. But that wasn't really important. What was important was that that particular chain of events lead to Turnbull to eat a particularly hot Chile that made him feel like his mouth was on fire, screaming for water.
Worried for his lover, Stan grabbed the first glass he could find, which happened to be one of the jars with white milky liquid. They didn't knew what it was, but it was o.k. The world Pulque didn't mean anything to them, yet.
Trunbull drank it all in one breath, closed his eyes, and opened them fast. "Oh... Wow! What's that?" He asked, as he picked another of the jars "Tastes good."
Moved by curiosity, Stan took another of the mysterious jars and drank a little. As the liquid made it's way to his stomach, he smiled happily "It's alcoholic." And he continued drinking, making a toast with his lover.
Fraser and Ray, worried, took one jar each, and Ben sniffed his, before sipping a little "It smells odd... like brandy" he said, before drinking more.
"It doesn't taste like Brandy" Ray added, as his own jar was already halfway down.
And so, began another quite interesting night, in a very Mexican Fashion.
Rennie was singing happily, as Stan encouraged him, while Ray and Benny debated over which dish they would try next, in a weird contest to identify all it's ingredients. So fat, they had come with a very good recipe for Black Mole, Chicken and Meat Tamales (Actually, they were supposed to be two different kinds, but the flavors kept mixing in their mouths), but both the pulque jars and the sweet Pumpkin were deluding them. It was then when Fraser lifted his head to meet his father's eyes, smiling from the other side of the shrine.
"Nice party, son. Mind if I join?" As he talked, Robert Fraser took the whiskey bottle and poured the liquid in a glass to offer a toast.
"You're back..." Fraser said, surprise making it's way across the alcohol. "I thought you were with mom..."
"I am... and she sends her love. But it would have been rude to miss this banquet." Robert Fraser's ghost replied, as he took a piece of the bone's shaped bread.
"You can eat."
"Apparently. And this is delicious. Your neighbor is a very kind woman."
Ray frowned a little when he saw his lover talking to himself. That meant that he was more drunk that he thought. He was about to say something, when the sound of a beer opening called his attention.
"I told you, he's looney toons." His father was standing next to the shrine, beer in hand, looking at the Mountie with disgust. "But I guess you're worse, hanging around him after all he has done."
"No one asked you." Ray tried to pull himself together, since he didn't want his father to see him drunk. "You've no right to be here."
"I was invited." The ghost pointed to his calaverita. "Don't go on thinking that I like to see my fag son with his queer friends."
Ray glared at the ghost, trying to control himself. He wouldn't ruin the night for everybody else. "You didn't had to come, Pop. No one would have missed you."
Turnbull stopped his song in the middle of a verse and blinked. He knew that he was slightly inebriated, but he couldn't be hallucinating... and he was quite sure that no one had come into the apartment, but Fraser was talking with another man, an old Mountie like themselves, dressed in full reds, drinking whiskey... an Det. Vecchio was sitting next to a man with an awful leather jacket, who eyed at them with distaste.
"What's wrong love?" Asked Kowalsky, obviously worried.
"C'n you see 'em?" Whispered Turnbull, waving in Fraser's and Vecchio's general direction.
"You mean Fraser and Vecchio? Yeah..." Now it was Stan's turn to blink, as he noticed the other men. "When did they got in here?"
Turnbull didn't answered, as he recognized the Mountie, that had been a legend in life. Sgt. Robert Fraser, Benton Fraser's father... Who happened to be dead. As his liquor clouded mind remembered what Fraser had explained them about Da de Muertos and the dead coming back. So then, everything was perfectly logical and he took a dish with tamales to offer it to the dead Mountie.
"Excuse me, sir?" He asked, a little shaken since his usual shyness around superiors returned. "But... Are you Sgt. Robert Fraser?"
"Yes, I am... Condestable...?"
"Turnbull, sir. Reinfield Turnbull... It's...ah... It's an honor..."
Fraser was quite surprised to see that someone else could talk with his father. And as he turned around to see if Ray was seeing him too, his voice died on his throat as he saw the other ghost, one that he recognized easily thanks to the photograph.
A new thought occurred to him then. He had never talked sincerely with his father about his feelings for Ray. And they hadn't made them public. The only ones who knew were Kowalsky, Turnbull, and due to the unlikely events of the 16th, Inspector Thatcher and the whole Mexican Consulate who hadn't commented anything. But tonight, he could see Ray's dead father and maybe, just maybe, Ray could see his.
"Ray" he said firmly, although his heart was pounding fast. "I want you to meet someone."
Ray let his lover guide him to the other side of the room, where Trunbull was stammering his admiration to another Mountie, and when he could see the Mountie's face, Ray was speechless.
"Dad?" Fraser said, and the Mountie turned to see them "I want you to meet someone."
"Oh, your yank friend. I'm Sgt. Robert Fraser, pleased to meet you. I never could thank you for the help you provided in solving both my murder and my wife's."
Ray just nodded, amazed "Ray Vecchio... It's an honor."
Fraser cleared his throat and hugged Ray closer. "Dad... I think I never told you this but... I'm in love with Ray... He... I... We are a couple."
Ray turned to see his lover, amazed of his boldness. Then, he heard the ghost laugh.
"It was about time you did something about it, son." Fraser sr. said, as he took a bite of sweet pumpkin. "I wasn't very thrilled at first, but he seems like a good man."
"Thank you, sir." Ray blushed a little, both from the drinks and from emotion. It was nice to know someone of their family knew about their relationship and approved it, even if said someone was a ghost.
"He is a good man!" Ray's father yelled from his side of the altar, as he opened yet another bite. "Good enough for your son, anyway."
Ray blinked and considered fainting. It was the first time his father said something good about him, even if it was veiled with an insult.
"What do you mean, 'for my son'?" Robert Fraser asked, eyeing the Italian with distaste. "What's wrong with my son, eh?"
"Besides being a queer and seducing my son, you mean?... I'll never finish telling you what's wrong with him!"
Fraser and Ray exchanged worried looks while both ghost exchanged insults, when Stan walked towards them.
"They sound just like when I took my dad to meet Stella's parents. They might argue until hell freezes, but they'll become friends."
And, as he talked, both ghost exchanged drinks, without even stopping the discussion. Fraser and Ray smiled and kissed each other.
"I'm very glad you could meet my father, Ray."
"I'm glad too, Benny. Thanks"
Morning caught the four men completely asleep at Fraser's apartment floor: Trunbull happily snoring on Stan's chest, Fraser and Ray with their arms entwined, an habit they had acquired since Ray's return.
A soft tapping in the door awoke them, and Fraser stirred to answer, his head pounding heavily.
"Who ever it is, love... grab my gun and shoot him" Ray muttered, and his suggestion was happily received with a groan from Stan.
"I'll never drink any mexican thing ever again..." The blonde cop said, as he covered his eyes with his arm.
Fraser ignored them, and hastly put a T-shirt over his chest, since at some point of the night the four had ended up shirtless. He scanned the room, but if his father was still there, he couldn't see him. With a soft sigh, he opened the door.
Mrs. Guzman was careering a big bowl of a weird looking stew, looking very worried.
"I'm so sorry, condestable... " She began, handing him the bowl. "I forgot to tell you about the Pulque... "
"Pulque?"
"My Mariana put it in the Altar, and I forgot it... your head must be hurting very much now... Pulque is a very strong liquor, and sometimes, one doesn't note that he's drunk. My husband knows about it's crudas... But this will be good. Chilaquiles are the best for Pulque crudas." And without waiting for an answer, she left hurriedly.
Carefully, Fraser put it on the table, and tasted it. The strong taste broke through his headache with amazing speed. He called the others, hoping to find a good reason for them to try something more from Mexico.
In the remains of the drinks, completely unseen to anyone, the two ghosts keep arguing.
"And that's another thing..." Vecchio sr. was saying... "Why must that wacko boy taste everything!?"
FIN
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Notes:
http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Stage/1261/altar.html It's not as big as the one I describe here, but it comes closer.
I hope all of you enjoyed this
Adalisa
Visit the Directo Al Sur site in Spanish
http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Stage/1261 e-mail: marioz@spin.com.mx