El Poderoso Empalador was first published by Pilcrow & Dagger magazine in August 2017.
El Poderoso Empalador
Pamplona, with its soaring buildings packed tightly together – like the canopy of a dense forest – shadowing the streets below. For an American tourist the rumbling ground was something of an unsettling feeling, but he merrily put it down to his slightly drunken state.
As he staggered slightly from street to street, the tourist’s tongue strained up to his purple-stained top lip to relive the recent discovery of real Spanish wine. For although he kept travelling in the vague hope of happening upon more libations, all the while the unsteady ground beneath him seemed to shake more violently – pounding like his head.
His silent prayers were suddenly answered by a random reveller, who thrust Todd his half empty glass before running away and yelling behind him, “Lo vas a querer para el toro!”
The air suddenly became saturated with screams and fervent, excited cries! Todd did not know where to turn or how to ask what was happening. The vibrations started to become stronger, ever-present, as if they were spreading through the veins of the earth – as though the ground had developed a heartbeat of its own.
‘El Poderoso Empalador’: resplendent, unyielding, and ready at the top of the shaded street. He was fully prepared for his grand charge through the undulating waves of people, who as if brought there by a sudden gust of wind – had gathered to take on the mighty beast.
Todd was not one of these people. He had sauntered entirely unwittingly onto the Calle Estafeta…during the ‘Running of the Bulls’.
People were already diving for the walls, clambering against the sealed shop shutters. Todd, on the other hand, was paralysed, motionless like a statue of Bacchus – trapped in time – just awaiting his inevitable fate.
The bull had begun his unstoppable rampage, the majority of people deftly diving away at just the right moment. Todd was still not one of these people, petrified and panicking, the only clue that he was still living was the wine in his glass – blood red and shaking slightly in its vessel.
‘El Empalador’ was now practically upon him, those who had managed to dodge the bull were powerlessly staring at Todd – unable to bring themselves to rush to his aid. A few of the women above the street, safely sealed inside their houses, shouted down from their balcony windows like boxed theatergoers, “Muévete, idiota!”
Todd was still frozen rock solid.
A moment passed before there was a sudden thrust into Todd’s stomach – then pain flooded his body like a collapsed dam. His wine glass dropped to the floor and smashed delicately into a hundred pieces – the light sparkling sharply off every jagged edge. Then the sound of a frail crunch as the bull trampled it into a thousand fragments more…
‘El Poderoso Empalador’ still beat ceaselessly onwards, his fabled rapidity having been shown to his audacious audience.
Todd’s swiftly sobering vision was left to focus on his Spanish saviour, whose arms were still tightly gripped around his waist. With Todd’s head now resting gently on the Spaniard’s chest, his heartbeat felt stronger than the earth’s rumble ever had…
As he staggered slightly from street to street, the tourist’s tongue strained up to his purple-stained top lip to relive the recent discovery of real Spanish wine. For although he kept travelling in the vague hope of happening upon more libations, all the while the unsteady ground beneath him seemed to shake more violently – pounding like his head.
His silent prayers were suddenly answered by a random reveller, who thrust Todd his half empty glass before running away and yelling behind him, “Lo vas a querer para el toro!”
The air suddenly became saturated with screams and fervent, excited cries! Todd did not know where to turn or how to ask what was happening. The vibrations started to become stronger, ever-present, as if they were spreading through the veins of the earth – as though the ground had developed a heartbeat of its own.
‘El Poderoso Empalador’: resplendent, unyielding, and ready at the top of the shaded street. He was fully prepared for his grand charge through the undulating waves of people, who as if brought there by a sudden gust of wind – had gathered to take on the mighty beast.
Todd was not one of these people. He had sauntered entirely unwittingly onto the Calle Estafeta…during the ‘Running of the Bulls’.
People were already diving for the walls, clambering against the sealed shop shutters. Todd, on the other hand, was paralysed, motionless like a statue of Bacchus – trapped in time – just awaiting his inevitable fate.
The bull had begun his unstoppable rampage, the majority of people deftly diving away at just the right moment. Todd was still not one of these people, petrified and panicking, the only clue that he was still living was the wine in his glass – blood red and shaking slightly in its vessel.
‘El Empalador’ was now practically upon him, those who had managed to dodge the bull were powerlessly staring at Todd – unable to bring themselves to rush to his aid. A few of the women above the street, safely sealed inside their houses, shouted down from their balcony windows like boxed theatergoers, “Muévete, idiota!”
Todd was still frozen rock solid.
A moment passed before there was a sudden thrust into Todd’s stomach – then pain flooded his body like a collapsed dam. His wine glass dropped to the floor and smashed delicately into a hundred pieces – the light sparkling sharply off every jagged edge. Then the sound of a frail crunch as the bull trampled it into a thousand fragments more…
‘El Poderoso Empalador’ still beat ceaselessly onwards, his fabled rapidity having been shown to his audacious audience.
Todd’s swiftly sobering vision was left to focus on his Spanish saviour, whose arms were still tightly gripped around his waist. With Todd’s head now resting gently on the Spaniard’s chest, his heartbeat felt stronger than the earth’s rumble ever had…
