Jeremy managed to direct them down the street and to the Malecón where they found a wall overlooking the sea. He ordered Paul and Emma to sit on it to avoid the masses of people in the streets. Next to the wall, there was a table and chairs where some gringos were comfortably drinking and celebrating. Jeremy stood over them and told them that the table had been reserved and it was time for them to leave. They laughed at him, so he snapped his fingers and two mean looking men appeared, terrifying the gringos. Jeremy waved for Paul and Emma to take a seat. The scary men sat on the wall next to them.
Emma was shaken when she put her hand into her purse to find her phone. “Jeremy, my phone, didn’t you put it back in my purse?”
“I said I did, it’s in there. You women and your big bags. I tell ya, it’s in there.” Jeremy was watching her hand search the bag. “If it’s not there, then maybe I missed when I dropped it. Maybe it’s in your car.”
Emma stopped a boy walking by to ask if she could borrow his phone but he laughed and said, “Sin Miedo!”
Next, she looked around and saw people wearing buttons that either said the words in English or Spanish. Off in the distance, she heard cheers from drunken patriots of the Carnaval, No Fear! or Sin Miedo! “Paul, Jeremy. Listen to the people. And the buttons, how on earth did they do this? It only happened yesterday.”
The men sitting on the wall next to them acted like they were Jeremy’s friends, making Emma uncomfortable. “Excuse me, why don’t you find another place to sit?”
“Oh Emma, these guys are here because of me. Paul, why don’t you tell her what we did to that poor Pablo boy?”
Hearing this, Paul felt the immediate horror flood his body. Jeremy had lost it. He’d seen him grow in strength the past few days, and as much as he hated to admit it, had felt himself grow weaker, even meek. But now, hearing Jeremy, there was no more room for him to dismiss it. Emma was in trouble and it was too late for him to do anything about it.
“What’s he talking about, Paul?” And then to Jeremy, “Tell me what you mean by that.”
His laughter was daunting, and it brought chills up her spine.
“Cat got your tongue, Paul? Emma,” His eyes had a crazy look. “How would you like to have these buttons made with your name painted on them? I can’t guarantee that your death will have the same effect as Pablo to the great people of México, but who knows, it might.”
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