Up in the Hills

*important* The full story is 3200 words (sorry for passing the limit.) I'm making a collection with the last 700 words in it. If you don't read that the story is going to leave you confused. Thank you.

*Another Thing* This story is not historically accurate; it is inspired by something I read about the small towns in Columbia supporting Pablo Escobar because he took care of them. I decided to get creative and make up a story with references to this. (So don't get mad if it's not how it really happened.)

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The hot Mexican sun slowly crept down the horizon and casted its last light upon a small village that was surrounded by barren wilderness. Other than the indegenous creatures that roamed freely, the village was the center of life in the valley. Rolling hills blocked the sunlight and projected long shadows upon the small dry desert that surrounded the village. The only source of water was a small stream that trickled through the valley.

 Beyond the valley, atop the hills, layed a luxurious estate. The estate’s lands stretched for miles and miles and housed many different people, all kinds of people, but only three of them permanently resided in the mansion that overlooked the desert below, and usually one of them was away on business. Since the lands were so secluded, nobody beyond the village knew of its presence. To the villagers, the mansion’s walls were just a spec in the distance. They knew it was there and many of them knew who lived there, but they didn’t talk about it. An unwritten rule prohibited them from speaking about. They decided it was best to ignore it and continue on with their respectable lives. 

A young village boy, who had only circled the hot Mexican sun twelve times, opened the front door to a small house in the village. He walked inside with his dusty shoes still laced to his feet. He crept on his tiptoes down the narrow hallway, opened another door, and discreetly peaked his head inside. A man was reclined in a comfortable chair in the corner of the room. He was reading through spectacles making use of the fading sunlight that shone through the window as a reading light.

    “Papà?” said the boy.

    He looked up from his book as his young son emerged from behind the door. “Yes?”

    The boy articulated his sentences very clearly, almost as if he was reciting it. “Papà, can me and Lobo go play fútbol in the field by the bend in the stream before it gets too dark?”

    “Did you go and ask his mother first?”

    “She said it was okay as long as Lobo wasn’t out there alone and he gets home before she goes to bed.”

    “Okay, I don’t mind what you do, but you better be home before dark. You know the wolves are out this time of year and we can’t take any chances after—”

    “They’re out all year.”

 “I know, but your mother worries about you. If you get home late, you’ll have to answer to her.”

    “Yes sir. Where is Mamà?”

    “She is still at your abuela’s helping with the harvest.”

    “Oh. I helped her like you asked. After a while she said I’d done enough and that I could go play.”

    “Good, my boy. It’s good to have a balance, especially when you are young,” said the father. He looked down at his son’s feet, and his face tightened. “Why are you wearing those dusty things inside the house?”

    The boy got nervous. “I thought I didn’t have to leave them at the door anymore?” 

    “Who gave you that idea?”

    “I–uh–nobody. I thought it was okay now because the dirt roads are gone.”

    “Just because we have a few paved roads now doesn’t mean your shoes stop finding dirt,” he smiled, “and you happen to be very good at finding dirt, my son. Don’t bring those dirty things inside the house anymore.”

    “Yes, Papà.” 

The boy turned to leave. “Son.” 

 He stopped and turned back. His father continued, “Sometimes I think you’re smarter than I am, but other times you lack common sense. You never fail to surprise me, Raul.” 

“Sorry, Papà,” said the boy. The man looked down at his book again, so the boy left the room and ran outside. His father rarely got onto him and when he did, Raul wholeheartedly listened. He was full of adrenaline now and his swift strides quickly carried him down the paved road to Lobo’s house. Once he got there, he knocked three times on Lobo’s window. Nobody answered. He spat on his hand and was about to wipe some of the dust off the window so he could see through, but as he did, the window was pulled open.  

    “Why’ve you got spit on your hand?” said Lobo, poking his head through the window.

    “I was going to clean the window so I could see if you were inside.”

    “Why didn’t you just knock?”

    “I did but you didn’t open the window.”

    Lobo smirked, “Nah, I’m just playing. I was going to sneak around the front to scare you but I didn’t want my Mà to see me and interrogate me, so I changed my mind.”

    “I thought you already told her that we were going to go play fútbol by the bend in the stream?”

    “I did, but she looked at me with her hawk eyes, and I don’t want to lie to her again because I know she’ll catch me. She’s like that,” said Lobo as he was climbing out of the window. “Especially nowadays.”

    “Alright, then la expedición is going to have to be quick.”

    Lobo landed with a thud on the hard ground then two boys took off racing through the village and towards the stream. They passed by young hispanic children jumping through hopscotch boxes on the asphalt. The smaller ones were toddling around releasing their creativity all over the road through their ineligible drawings with the leftover chalk. They ran by the small village homes that lined the road, some with clotheslines hanging on the side and others with adults socializing on the front porches. They passed by Raul’s abuela’s and he noticed that his mother was still knelt over in the garden beds, so he called out, “Mama! I’m off to play with Lobo before it gets too dark out!” 

    She looked up and responded, “Be home before dark, Raul!”

    They kept running until they were just out of the village and stopped at the pronounced bend in the stream. They could hear each other's panting breath as their chests heaved up and down. Lobo hesitantly turned towards Raul, “Say Raul, you sure don’t want to come back and do this tomorrow when we have more time? It's gonna be dark soon and you know how I feel about being out with the wolves.”

    “We’ve got time. Only a couple more minutes of running ‘til we reach the bottom of the hill and it can’t take much longer to go up. You know I’ve been dying to see what's all up there, and we’re already this close to being out of the valley.”

    “Alright let's hurry then.”

    They kept their same pace until they reached the base of the steep hill. A rocky dirt trail with switchbacks led to the top. Their legs burned as they made the ascent. They had never been this far out of the valley alone; it was uncharted territory for them. They surmised that this was how Columbus felt before he set foot on the great new land. In their minds they were the next great explorers. La expedición was going to be one for the ages.

 The sun was getting closer to disappearing behind the horizon. Only the faint light of dusk remained, but the boys could still see well enough. They had at last reached the top, and their jaws dropped.

    They could see the mansion in great detail now. It was astounding. Spanish-style roofing, tall white pillars, and great glass windows that reflected the orange sky. It made their homes look like nothing but a shed. They could see two housekeepers sweeping the veranda in front of the pool of crystal clear water. Two beautiful women lounged beside the massive swimming pool.

    They laid low to where just their heads poked over the sloped path to keep from being seen. “Oh my God,” said Lobo. “This is paradise.”

    Raul was still lost for words. Finally, he spoke up, “Outside of our very own village, and we’ve never been up here until now.” He said with disbelief. He pointed to the smaller buildings adjacent to the mansion. “Do you see all those mini-mansions? I wonder if people live in those–or maybe–maybe, it's the pool houses.”

    “Why in the world would they need that many pool houses?”

    “Why wouldn’t they need that many pool houses? Do you see the size of that thing?”

    They laughed, then they sat in silence for a minute, in awe. Then Lobo said, “Where in the world even are we? Who lives here? My God Raul, we have to let everyone in the village know what we’ve found.”

    “Let’s explore around some more.”

    They crept on the outskirts and tried to stay out of sight. They were far enough along the hill that they could see the side of the mansion. In the distance, miles away, they could see multiple huge warehouses. Bigger than any building they had ever seen before. The warehouses were practically horizontal skyscrapers.

    “What do you think’s in those buildings?” asked Raul.

    “Probably planes and trucks and whatever else they need to get around this place. I bet they own all the land from the Pacific right down to our valley.”

    “Jeez, how do you think they have so much money? You reckon they’re big farmers or something?”

    “Farmers? Are you serious?”

    Neither of them wanted to leave. It was a completely different world compared to their village. “Raul,” said Lobo. “I really don’t want to leave, but I think we ought to. It’s about dark and just think about the wolv–”

    “Alright, alright. We have to come back, though. Maybe the people here are friendly. Maybe they will let us swim in their pool or give us a tour of the place. We have to come back.”

 The boys awoke from their reveries and started the trek back down the hill. It was dark when they got to the base, and they could hear the wolves howling in the distance. “We need to go faster,” said Lobo. “I can hear them.” His heart was racing and fear rushed through his veins.

They ran as fast as they could through the valley, past the stream, and back to the village. They could barely see where they were stepping until they got to the light of the village. Raul’s house was just around the corner. Lobo’s was a bit farther up. They could still hear faint howls in the distance. 

Lobo turned to Raul. “Come over tomorrow as soon as you wake up and we’ll plan it all out. Let’s go back again in the daytime.”

“Aren’t we going to tell everyone first?”

“No, I changed my mind. Once we’ve gone up there a couple times and seen it all, then we can tell everyone. So let’s go early in the morning.”

“My parents will spot us running towards the hill in the daylight though.”

“But we can’t go at night anymore because of the wolves.”

“Stop worrying so much about that, Lobo. My mamà says the wolves are always watching anyway. And we’re fine, aren’t we? You’re the wolf around here, remember?”

“Yeah,” said Lobo in a low tone. He hated his name with all his heart. How grimly sardonic it was.

They said their goodbyes and Raul went towards his house and Lobo continued on down the street. The excitement from their journey was wearing off, and he was suddenly apprehensive to face his parents. He’d forgotten all about them in his adventure. It was long past sunset and he was just now home. He took his dirty shoes off, left them at the door, and quietly turned the handle.

“Where have you been?” yelled his mother, standing by the door. His father’s expression said I told you so.

“Mamà I–”

“We’ve been worried to death! Where have you been? And don’t you say playing fútbol by the stream, young man,” his mother yelled.

“I was playing fútbol by the stream, Mamà!” he whined.

“Don’t lie to me, Raul!”

“I’m not!”

“Raul!”

“I’m not lying, I swear by it!”

“You have one second to tell me where you were or you’re not going outside for the rest of the summer, young man!” 

He gave up his act, “Mamà, Papà, I’m sorry, but you won’t believe what we found.”

“Who’s we?”

“Me and Lobo.” he said, with a confused look. “You saw us run by when you were in the garden, remember?”

    “Where did you go with Lobo?” she exclaimed.

    “We went past the stream and—”

“You left the village at night? With Lobo? Are you kidding me, Raul? How could let him go with you at night after what happened with his brother? How could—”

“Mamà we were safe,” he explained. “We didn’t see any wolves.”

“It’s too late when you see the wolves,” interrupted his father with a serene voice. “Me and your mother just want you to be safe, that’s all. We couldn’t live with ourselves if one of them happened to get you or Lobo.”

Raul was relieved that his father intervened and settled the dispute. His father’s temperament was always calm and collected, and he never had frantic episodes like Raul’s mother. Raul reassured them that he understood and was remorseful then he made his way towards his bedroom. His father quietly spoke to his wife then followed shortly after.

Raul was sitting on the edge of his bed, pulling his socks off. 

“Thank you for leaving your dirty shoes at the door,” said his father, standing in the doorway.

Raul flinched. He wasn’t expecting anybody to be right there. “Yeah, I remembered.”

 His father walked over and sat next to him. He inhaled a deep breath, then said, “Raul, where did you and Lobo run off too? It–it wasn’t to a girl's house, was it?”

    “No–wait, what? Why would we sneak off to a girl’s house?”

 A wave of relief washed over his father. He thought he was going to have to have a coming of age discussion with his son, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

    “Oh. Where did you guys run off to then?”

    “Well, just like the great explorers, we had our very own adventure. We called it La expedición. We ran past the stream and up the hill all the way to that big mansion that overlooks our valley. And, Papà, it was amazing. You should have seen it. They have everything you can imagine up there. We think they might let us get a tour if we ask nicely.” said Raul, eager to return.

    His father’s whole demeanor had changed. He suddenly turned and struck the bed frame with his fist. The impact sounded like a gunshot. For the first time in Raul’s life, he was scared of his father. He looked like a different man. His veins were bulging and his jaw was clenched. Through clenched teeth, he said, “You went where?”

    His son was speechless, and if he could talk, he didn’t want to. His father had never reacted this way before. He was fuming. Raul’s mother rushed in with a frightened look, “Miguel? What is it?”

    The anger drained from his face. “I have everything under control.” He sighed. “I lost my temper. I’m sorry. Our son is lucky he is alive.”

    “What?”

    “Please go back to the kitchen, Rosa. I’ll explain in a minute. I need to talk to him about something we should have talked about a long time ago.”

    “What, Miguel?”

    He exhaled a deep breath. “He and Lobo went on an adventure to the house on top of the hill.”

    The color drained from his wife’s face.

    “Please go, Rosa.” 

    She nodded and left the room. 

They sat still for a few seconds, then his father broke the silence, “Son, I’ve failed you, and I’m sorry. I let you walk right into harm’s way,” he paused, “I’ve avoided this for so long because–well–you're just so young and innocent.” He looked out the window. “That big house on the hill belongs to some very bad people, Raul. Very dangerous people.”

 

    

You are this far; you might as well finish it. The collection is called "Up in the Hills."