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  • Don and Margaret
    Post count: 527


    As the whip slender Matador raised his head, he felt the wetness. He gingerly touched the back of his shoulder length hair and came away with scarlet fingers.

    He hated blood, especially his own.

    The last thing he could remember, as his senses returned, was a flash of red as a beautiful woman, dressed in flowing red clothing, danced by. He felt that he was in a club of some kind, with sensual music throbbing in the background of the smoky room.

    What could have happened to his head? Man did it ever hurt!

    Suddenly the table his upper body rested on tilted violently sideways and


    Post count: 2373

    He could see her dark brown eyes watching him from
    across the room. His eyes sought hers pleadingly. Help me, he wanted
    to cry out. Help me! She returned his gaze with a look of contempt as he
    battled to overcome his feelings of nausea. Beads of perspiration covered
    his forehead as once more he clung to the table in an effort to stay in control.

    For a brief moment he felt her breath on the side of his cheek and the swish
    of her long skirt against his leg. Then, slowly he sank into oblivion
    the blood flowing freely in long tapering rivers before him…..


    Post count: 502

    He awoke in a darkened chamber, his throbbing head cushioned by gentle pillows and bruised body caressed by silken bedclothes. The faint light from a dim lantern created a halo around the golden curls escaping from the headscarf of the slender maiden seated at his bedside. As his eyelids fluttered, he clandestinely watched her wring out and replace the cool cloth on his fevered brow…

    Post count: 567

    “Ahh, you're awake” she said. “That's a good sign.” She picked up a teacup from the bed table and held it to his lips. “Drink this, it has great medicinal value. I brewed it from the juice of the flower that blooms on the CACTUS, mixed with the juice of a RED CHERRY. It will help you heal.”

    He sipped the drink as she held the cup to his mouth. It was warm and had a nice flavor. His throbbing head started to subside.

    Post count: 976

    For a few hours as the medicine over came him his broken body was at rest and his sleep deep and peaceful.

    Images began to flash through his mind. As the dream became stronger he saw himself standing in the bull ring, he could taste the sawdust and smell the blood.

    A beautiful Senorita threw him a RED ROSE sweeping his cape behind him and bowing low he picked it up put it to his lips and handed it back to her.

    He could hear the crowd roaring behind him and he knew that on this night he would face his old enemy the Shimmering Steer

    He turned to face whatever fate had in store for him never noticing the sneer of comtempt on the face of the Senoritas companion.

    Lying on the bed his body was wet with sweat……………………


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    ''You are awake now'' she whispered. ''You have slept long and
    your fever has passed!' The young woman smiled at him, her golden curls framing her beautiful
    face. Her china blue eyes gazed into his and for a brief moment he
    thought she might be an angel and this was the welcoming Heavan..

    He tried to speak but his voice was hoarse and words tumbled forth which
    were lost and incoherent. ''Drink this'' the angel coaxed, holding a cup
    of the cherry liquid to his dry, parched lips. ''You have lost alot of blood
    and this will help you regain your strength''!

    He sipped on the liquid feeling the blood returning to his aching limbs whilst
    the warmth of colour touched his cheeks. He was no longer afraid and
    smiled back at the beautiful angel.

    ''I must tell you something'' he whispered, reaching for her delicate hand.
    ''I want to tell you about my aversion to blood and ironically, how I am one
    of the greatest Matadors in Spain. How I am hated for what I have become
    and of a Senorita's greed and rage.''

    'You have time Senor! Do not rush. I am here and I will listen…….'

    Don and Margaret
    Post count: 527

    “When I was just a young, brash little boy” he said. “I went one afternoon out to the pasture where my grandfather kept the shimmering steer.”

    “It was a very mean, rowdy animal that did not like anyone. Especially anyone in his pasture. Being the type of young man that I was I, of course, had to test myself against this very dangerous animal and jumped the fence into his pasture.”

    He paused and took a drink of his red cherry drink and then continued. “Dreams of being a great Matador were always running through my head and I drove the dogs and roosters crazy waving a red flag at them.”

    “However, the Shimmering Steer was a very great bull and was not going to stand for an interloper in his field. He put his head down and came for me. My courage lasted until I felt his hot breath on me and then I broke and ran.” Sweat ran down his head as he remembered.

    ” As I turned to run away my foot caught on a clump of earth and I fell. Within just a second the bull was upon me. My life was over, I thought, and thoughts of my loving parents crying ran through my brain. Just as the great bull reached me I heard a fluting voice raised above the bulls' bellows. A beautiful girl had jumped into the pasture and was running towards me and the bull. The Shimmering Steer was distracted from me and turned towards the girl. She was going to die for me!”

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    He paused as a shudder went through his body.

    “If the story is to much for you we can leave it untill you are stronger” she said.

    “No, no I really need to tell you how all this happened” gripping her hand even tighter he carried on………….

    “I lay on the damp earth with my hands over my eyes not daring to look at what might have happened. When I finally got up the courage the scene in front of me was not at all what I imagined”.

    “The shimmering steerhad stopped in front of the young girl and was licking her hand. Out of the pocket of her riding skirt she brought out a red apple, and holding out her hand the steer gentley took it.

    “When I could find my voice I asked her who she was and as she turned towards me a look of pure hatred came into her eyes”

    “Who am I” she spat at me' “To you I'm nothing, only part of the family from whom your Grandfather took this land, now get up little boy and run back to your Grandfather the great Don Migule, and tell him that you are afraid of the shimmering steer.

    “As I ran back to the ranch I could hear her laughter echoing behind me”……..


    Post count: 2373

    'My Grandfather listened to me, his face ashen and gray. His eyes
    brimmed with tears as I told him how I had foolishly confronted the SHIMMERING STEER and what had transpired. ''He pulled me close to him (as an elderly man would do to comfort one that he loved) and I felt secure in the warmth of his nearness. ''It's alright '' he said reassuringly, 'you did well! There
    is much for you to learn before you are able to follow your dreams! Yes,
    there is much for you to learn and before I am taken from this earth, this wonderful earth full of so much promise, wonder and joy, I must equip you for
    your long journey. Your destiny is mapped out for you, but it
    will not be an easy journey!' I felt his body tremble as he continued.
    'Much has happened that you are unaware of. There are evil forces
    which you do not understand. But the time has come, and your father's
    wish would be that I teach you and help you along this path which
    is destined to be yours.'

    I looked into my Grandfather's eyes. There were no tears! Only
    the eyes of one who had travelled far . The eyes of an ageing man, full of knowledge and wisdom……………….and one who knew what was to be!

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    The woman with the golden curles wiped his brow once more.

    “You should rest again now she” told him “and try and regain your strength”

    Clasping her hand even tighter to stop her from leaving, he pulled her down towards him.

    “I need to tell you some more of my story” he wispered, “I think it's important that somebody knows the truth”

    As I sat listening to my Grandfathers words all those years ago I found it hard to understand what he was trying to tell me, after all I was only a small boy and someone who had known nothing of family conflict. My Grandfather must have seen the look of puzzlement on my young face and suddenly placed his head in his hands and when he finally took them away there were tears in his eyes…… With a deep sigh he started to speak.

    “I was going to wait untill you were a lot older to tell you the full sorry story, but I think the time has now come much sooner than I wanted” he said.

    “The young girl who saved you from the shimmering steer is called Pilar and she is the Grand-daughter of my old enemy Don Carlos who used to own all the land next to ours. Carlos was a very rich man, his fields produced the best crop of melons in Spain, but what really made him so wealthy was his bloodline stock of fighting bulls. As you know after your mother died your father left you in my care while he went off and trained to become a matador

    Many years passed and your Father became the most respected bull fighter in Spain and then the day came that he was to fight the most fearless bull in Spain that just happened to belong to Don Carlos.

    One night whilst drinking in one of the local bars Carlos started to brag that his steer would beat your Father in the ring. I knew that it was the drink making him brave but a lot of money had changed hands on this fight and it was the talk of Spain. At the end of the evening Carlos stood up looked over to where I was sitting and in a loud voice bet me all his land that his famous steer would beat my own son. I had no choice but to take the bet, in those days family honour was a big thing, so the fate of one of us was sealed over the raising of a glass of brandy.

    “I think you know the out come of the fight” said my Grandfather “after all it went down in history but not for the right reasons. Your Father died from his wounds that day, but not before he had killed the most fearless steer in Spain…..AND I WAS HONOUR BOUND TO TAKE THE LAND OF DON CARLOS………


    Post count: 2373

    ''It was a sad time'' my Grandfather continued, the pain
    and grief burning in his eyes. ''To lose one's son for such a meaningless
    act and to bear so much sorrow was at times too much to contemplate! Your
    Grandmother and I swore that you would never know the despair and anguish
    which we endured and we tried to keep you away from the sight and smell of
    the Bullring and the notoriety of the Matadors!'' He paused, reflecting for
    a moment on his words. 'But you were a brave young lad and we both felt the
    rebelliousness that your Father once had. I sensed a being inside
    you that seemed to urge you on and on and as much as your Grandmother and
    I tried to hold you back from your impulsive ways and to calm this inner
    turmoil, it was to no avail. We began to accept that your father's
    spirit was with you and even though this gave us deep, deep
    joy, it was also a cause for worry and concern!'

    Post count: 976

    The bright afternoon sun drew me outside to ponder on what Grandfather had told me. In the distance I could see the girl sitting on the corral fence, her legs with victorian boots on swinging back and forth.
    With a confidence I did not feel I climbed the corral fence and sat down next to her, the silence between us only being broken by the sound of the jingle bell around the shimmering steers neck.

    “Thank you for saving my life,without you I would have been in a lot of trouble.”

    Turning to look at me she nodded her head. Ages seem to pass before she spoke.

    “If you had been injured they might have shot the steer, and then I would have been very upset” she told me with complete honesty, “I did what I did to save you both, and to keep the peace between our two Grandfathers.”

    “Do you think they will ever forgive each other for what happened,” I asked her.

    In that instant her eyes changed, “Never,! the feud between them runs far to deep,even I have my life set out for me, I have to marry a man with a lot of money and try and take back the family land”

    Tossing her long black hair over her shoulder she jumped down from the fence. As she walked away she called out.
    “Your life will be set out for you as well, you see!!!!!!!!

    “Never!!!” I called back to her……WHEN I GROW UP I'M GOING TO BE THE MOST FAMOUS MATADOR IN THE WORLD………………….


    Post count: 2373

    'That time seems so very long ago'' I continued, eager
    to relate more of my story to the beautiful young woman who was so caring and
    attentive as she coaxed me back to my former strength.

    ''I never forgot Pilar and the way SHIMMERING STEER succumbed to her charms.
    It was as though she were enchanted and the offering of the apple, like the forbidden
    fruit……….No, I have never witnessed anything like that again and doubt I ever will !'' I paused for a while as images floated
    before me and thoughts started crowding my mind.

    ''Drink more'' the beautiful young woman sighed, her china blue eyes
    daring me to refuse. I drank more of the warm liquid feeling the warmth returning to my aching limbs. ''What is your name?'' I asked hestitantly, afraid she
    might suddenly disappear never to return. ''Petra'' she replied, averting her
    gaze. 'Please continue with your story' she whispered.

    'Aah yes' my story, I mumbled, my mind once more returning to that fateful day.
    'I never lost my dream to become the great Matador and as much as my Grandfather tried to stop me, there was always the face of Pilar taunting me,
    mocking me as I lay on the ground! It was that vision that drove me on and
    on and eventually I took lessons in the BullRing and watched as the great Matadors
    played with the bulls daring them to challenge the holder of the Red Cape.
    It was then and only then that I realised my life was laid out before me and
    even though the sight and smell of the blood which the Picadors heartlessly
    laughed at, made me sick to my very stomach, I knew there was no turning
    back in my quest to become the greatest of them all!

    Post count: 976

    Day after day I toiled in the ring, my body became strong and brown from the searing sunshine, my kills were many and my injuries few…….I thought I was on my way to being the best Matador in Spain.

    One day after I had fought a strong and brave bull an old mentor who had been watching my progress called me over.

    “My Son” he said, “Let an old Matador offer you some good advice.” Standing before him I wondered what an old man like him could possibly teach me, after all was'nt I the best young Matador in Spain?

    Offering me a seat besides him he began to speak……

    “I have no doubt in my mind that one day you will be a great, great Matador, but you still have much to learn.” As I turned to look at him he held up his hand up to silence me. “You kill the bull out of hate and anger as if it is something to get quickley over, this is not how it should be, you need to learn how to focus your mind and have more restraint, the art of the fight is to tease and taunt the bull and to give the crowd the anticipation of the kill, the bull ring is a stage and the people have paid to see the show. Take heed my son you will never be truly great untill you learn this,”

    Taking a card out of his pocket he handed it to me, “THIS PERSON WILL HELP YOU, IT WILL BE TO YOUR ADVANTAGE TO LEARN AND LISTEN TO WHAT THEY SAY”


    Post count: 2373

    Apologies Margaret. Did not mean to leave you sitting there all alone! Everything has been frantic for me right now but will try and post soon…….
    <img src='style_emoticons//huh.gif’ border=’0′ style=’vertical-align:middle’ alt=’huh.gif’ />

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