In Search of the Dragon Blanco, El Mision

By James Carrol

At the bottom of the Chesapeake Bay, a gruesome discovery is made by two young boys. Tommy Lewis and his Ronnie, find a body, but it’s Tommy’s avid conjecture that causes him to suffer rejection. He saw the world clueless, traveling about it’s daily life while never questioning the “why” of events. Set on a course u

• Language: English
• Publisher: URLink Print & Media, LLC
• Release date: Oct 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9781643674193

James Carrol

A researcher for civil and structural engineers, early religious life provided a foundation of knowledge about ancient Greek and Roman civilizations from Archaic period to the end of antiquity. Biblical studies centered on languages of ancient text and translations. Returning to university life, the author resumed his interest in Mesopotamian Man, European, Russian 19th and 20th century histories, Mesa-Americana including Aztecs and Mayan - pre- and post-Columbian civilizations, and the Mexican Revolution. American colonial life and a life-long appreciation for American and English literature is of deep interest to this new American writer, residing in Maryland and Florida. As an iconoclastic follower of the teachings of Christ, and Biblical historiography, this author, excludes himself, not, from the orthodox practices of such beliefs into the free expression and world view of love and compassion for all of humanity.

Book preview

Chesapeake… Underwater Find

Pines, alone the Chesapeake lean toward the eastern waters in their quest to soak up the strong rays of summer sun, traveling in an atmosphere, proven to be a lens for the Poder de el Sol.

It was thought that the Aztec god, Tonatliuh traveled north for a time to try the souls of men, burning the sky with a torturing heat baking the earth and drying the oceans. But, it is only this kind of heat that changed the cycle of life in the Chesapeake Bay, causing the great White Rock fish to migrate and stirring the cold water beds of the Blue Fin crab.

Galvanotropism, is the result of radiological energy the Sun injects into the earth’s atmosphere via his long arms, called scientifically, solar flares. In the other side of Tonatliuhs’ nature, he provides food and resources for the people and an industry for the region, otherwise dormit from the cold of the North Atlantic waters.

The Mid-Atlantic watershed basin is full of dense growth rich in a variety of white oaks, white pines and silver maples providing a good cover from the sweltering heat. As Tommy, age 14, views a vast volume trees growing along the lone flat shore road, he notes the slender base of the Pines with its’ dense top canopy of growth.

Like a tree in the Africian Serangeti! said Tommy.

What? Replied Ronnie, age 12.

Tommy nodded These trees are so different, don’t ya think?

Guess so. said Ronnie.

Alright boys, I will be back to your Aunt Net’s at 8:00 o’clock, so please be ready, that means all your swim gear, too! said Tommy’s Mom.

She held a firm grip on the steering wheel as she turned onto the white crush gravel road. The 1964 Ford wagon swayed as the white dust created a billowing line behind the three travelers.

Tommy laughed, Cool… Mom

Bouncing and tumbling with a static sound as the wheel wells turned and refracted the tiny white stones, sucking and drawing with every revolution of the rear tires as the wagon flexed back on its’ own steel spring suspension.

Ronnie surprised I thought we were going off the road! That was really awesome! sitting tall in his seat.

Are you boys still back there? laughed Tommy’s Mom, I thought I lost you back there.

Yeah, we’re here! said Tommy while grappling for his diving mask sliding across the back seat.

His mother straightened the white thin steering wheel and continued down the drive lined with the tall pines with her foot on the petal, heavy on the gas.

Hey remember we found those arrowheads? asked Tommy.

Yeah! answered Ronnie.

My Uncle said sometimes, on a full moon, he can see Indians walking through the woods with their spears and hunting feathers!

Ronnie, rolling his eyes back No way…really, that’s cool.

Yeah laughs Tommy.

Why do they roam the shore? asked Ronnie.

Their spirits have come to claim the land the white man took from their people, back in the day.

Your relatives… Tommy?

No, my Mom says were Italia

My Relatives?

No, Ronnie you’re Jewish …White men.

Ok!

The wagon slows with the drag of centrifugal force as Tommy’s Mom makes a wide turn on to the oval shaped entrance, leading to the front door of the house.

Boys… take your gear out before you run to the water!

With a restless energy, the two boys go running to the water, around the side of the house.

Boys!

Get your gear… guys!

Tommy’s Mom is dressed in an outfit of navy blue and white poke a dot shorts; part of a suite, smart fashion for hot summer weather. Her top was white with blue poke a dots and a collar, formal and casual dress. Most of the time, in the summer months, she had her hair up on her head, to keep her cool. She carried her favorite white purse with her red lipstick. Her favorite gloss she would dig through her purse to find her wallet in the store. Sometimes, she would put on her color while Tommy pushed the cart down the isle looking for groceries needed for the trip.

In his mind, his mother, Frances carried a certain style parnasse with her dark Italian skin, sweet perfume, and those sunglasses, that of a movie star. She also shared a unique beauty with the world, the gift of inward kindness and generosity.

As he would recall later in his life, the one person that loved him, knew him and understood him, besides his Creator.

This was the woman who gave birth and carried his young life through those tender, joy filled years, as he would recall a little creator so are all women in Tommy’s worldview.

Stations of the Cross are a practice of spiritual subjection observing the conditions of the advancement as recorded by the Apostle John.

These were the eyes of a young boy on his mother as she prayed to God. The devotion and spiritual energy that he experienced in the front of the alter.

The Roman Catholic Church has a portal of the Virgin Mary. This scared devotion solomente con oracions and supplications with a strict humility, rosary slipping slowly between her fingers until the final hour.

Then it was time to enjoy life, in the Italian–American way, which is laughter, good food, in a rich red sauce with garden fresh basil, summer days by the water, and on holiday with Papas’ vino at the garden house. The household took pride and great joy celebrating the gathering together of family, friends and a lot of cooking, eating, mixed with the art of conversation.

Frances stepped out of the wagon and opens the back door. Carrying the boys gear to the front porch. They’re all yours, Net! walking through of the front door, standing on the porch with the sun in her eyes.

Net shakes a dish towel, Hey, glad to have them; got any more?

No, but if we gave them a little more time, right laughed Net. They are growing up to be young men so fast.

I gave them instructions, ice them good, try to get two bushels if you can spare them for the feast at my house, Net…Dear? said Frances closing the back door and getting back in the driver’s seat.

Net shrugged her shoulders The traps are probably full, we’ve been so busy here on the shore, we have not pulled them up in days, at least, God knows, I don t fool with them!

Ok….then, I‘ll see you later, tonight! closing the car door Frances starts the engine. And, taking off with the wave of her hand in the air. Aunt Net walks through the house carrying the boys’ gear with her, and poking her head out the screen back door.

What are you two boys doing, looking at the water? It’s still there.

Come in and get some lunch, before you boys head out for the rest of the afternoon. Are you hungry?

No… Aunt Net, we’re starving, com’on race ya… Ronnie! The cedar shake house was surrounded by a group of pines that provided shade all day, with exception to the west where the drive cut through the woods. About three o’clock the strong sun would enter the west corner window; soon to follow, that same light would change to an amber color, and remain on the Western shore until the sunset shown its’ golden rays on the New England style Cape Cod.

Hand cut cedar covered the exterior walls and in the north face elevation of the shore home, a tinsel of green growth, better known as forest fungi, an eukaryotic organism. A natural growth in heavy humid conditions and a lack of direct sunlight to the cedar shakes producing a thick growth. The wall and onto the roof, looked like an enchanted cottage deep inside the forest, which actually for the two boys, it was.

Ronnie sat in the kitchen chair, legs swinging, eating the center out of his sandwich.

Guys, a couple of things for today; do not go out of the lagoon, your Mom is going to be here at 8 O’clock. So… have your gear together and be ready. Be careful with the boat, don’t get bitten, don‘t come across my clean floor with wet feet. If you could, use the outside bath house, please… your Uncle and I appreciate what you are doing, as usual , you are our favorite men for the task… and we want you to come back again…ok? Aunt Net said with a grin like an unrestrained smile.

Aunt Net! That was five things! said Tommy.

You were really listening!

Eating in the kitchen of Aunt Nets’ house was special, the way she made the plate up with the carrots cut length ways and the sandwich cut neatly in quarters. And what was really special, for both boys got their own can of soda with a tall translucent red plastic glass full of ice. Aunt Net only used these glasses in summer months and for the crab fest, or the family would use on special occasions or holidays.

The light was very interesting to look at from the northern back screen door, how the reflection provided a natural glow into the kitchen. Aunt Net had all the windows in the house open with screens. She relied on the breeze from the bay to cool the house.

Excitement and emotions mounted as the boys quietly think about the fun they have been waiting to have for over two weeks and now it’s finally here.

You ready? Tommy asked.

Last one out, has to carry the ice bucket?

With one big slam of the old screen door, the boys rocketed out to the green, green soft grass, past the two tall poplar trees with the hammock in the center and Tommy’s Uncles’ favorite pillow, while running to the waters’ edge.

Stopping at the bulkhead, Ronnie grabs the ores for the boat and the lines.

What are you looking at? asked Ronnie.

Just the way the waves are rolling in; it’s really different, far apart and even… Tommy raised his eyebrows.

That’s the tide coming in, wow, look, at the waves in the bay!

Beat Ya! yelled Ronnie as he dove in the water, swimming to-

ward the platform in the middle of the cove.

Ha… ha, not fair, but ok! Tommy yelled back. He drops his gear, takes a few steps back and does his dolphin dive.

Both boys arrive at the platform.

Hey, I won! Ronnie said, climbing up the platform ladder. Hey right, give ya a head start, ah handicap ha ha laughed Tommy Ronnie shouts, cannon ball making his big splash in the water.

Incoming! yells Tommy with another cannon ball.

After an hour of big slashes, the two boys, lying on their backs and absorb the golden rays, their bodies releasing water onto the wooden platform creating an angel shape.

Wow with a deep breath, "Tommy? What’s your Mom doing tomorrow?

I don’t know! replied Tommy, blowing spray from his lips into the air from the running water streaming on his face.

You, should ask her if we can come back said Ronnie, and see what she says!

We can always try; I don’t think she will. replied Tommy, Hey … what do you say we pull traps and that will give us time to explore the cove?

Sure, let’s go! said Ronnie.

In the apex of the afternoon sun, the massive primeval columns, seated on their tiny little islands carry a matrix of cables and steel, which disappear into the horizon on the great Eastern shore of the Chesapeake Bay.

From the small wooden service boat, Ronnie stares up at the more than forty stories of sun bleached concrete in awe. The road of which the boys had traveled many times, they now viewed from a fish eye as it were.

One half mile north of the traps, the entire bridge seemed to magically float in a dream like suspension of a mystical, material construct of road invisibly connecting to the other shore miles away.

Counting the buoys, Tommy navigates the boat to the west side of the line. Arching out, these buoys of a different color represent the deep water traps, better known as the channel traps.

The juxtaposition of traps were zigzagged throughout the area and had no consistency, making it difficult to land the boat next to buoys in the right place, and hold that position.

Ronnie had a role in the operation as the point man. He controlled the operation in front seat of the boat with a wide paddle, taking off his shirt.

He made the calls like a captain on a ship, they where really experienced partners on a great venture, and co-producers of a sweet bounty, the blue fin and more importantly heroes to those attending the night of the crab feast.

Closer…closer… little more…ok said Ronnie.

Tommy pulls the motor up, then, downs the oars into the water, thus slowing the boat.

GOT IT! yells Ronnie Pull it up, lets’ see what we got! Tommy has a funny, clown like grin on his face.

Moving toward the line Tommy assists Ronnie with the pulling of the heavy line tied to the deep water trap.

Tommy laughing WE OW, it is a heavy one, I am going to drop the anchor!

Ok…hurry, I can’t hold it much longer laughs Ronnie. On three, one …two…three!

Ronnie pulls up on the buoy line, as the trap is coming up. Tommy’s task is to grab the trap and lift it over the side and into the boat. The water level drops, as the trap comes up, falling off the backs of the stack after stack of blue fin crabs.

O my God…look at that, he is the King!" shouts Tommy.

He is eighteen inches long at least, holy moly! yells Ronnie.

And as blue as the deep blue sky said Tommy.

On top of the stack of crabs was the largest one the two boys had ever seen in the Bay to date, and as time would reveal, the largest Maryland crab they would ever see.

The top crab is always the strongest and the heaviest, pushing the other smaller and weaker crabs to the side. Standing on the conquered crabs and kicking off their backs with his large legs, this crab was so big that he could extend from one end of the trap to the other. The two boys witnessed, what Ronnie identified as the King crab attempting to perform an Iron cross.

The boys knew the tremendous strength and power it takes a person in gymnastics to pull his body into such a position.

With his claws firm grip on the bars of the cage, the king crab thrust his heavy body up, trying to climb out the hole that he entered days ago for a nibble on a deliciously irresistible chicken neck.

The timing of the event is incredible as the life scrambles for survival in a matter of seconds. For the crabs, it is a mad dash for the door, which is the hole. The hole that they entered through for the desirable chicken neck days ago is now the goal to exit the cage.

The pulling of the trap does not signal the end for the crabs, but acts as a bell, for the prize fighter to go into the ring swinging.

When all the water escapes from the cage, a brawl breaks out, without regard to size, the crabs fight, now freed from the weight at the top, it is a race for the hole! Claws extend up to other crabs; some crabs grab the king crab’s legs and are pulled ahead as he pulls himself closer to the hole. But, the fighting is feudal because they cannot fit through the hole to exit, the crabs have forgotten how they had gotten in those days prior and their struggle is in vain.

I think we should give him a name said Ronnie.

Good idea laughs Tommy, Ronnie, what are ya thinking?

How about…Bob! Ronnie said with a victorious laugh. Hello Bob, welcome aboard, you are sure going to taste good!

"We have to save his shell, you know? No know would believe us,

and this is the first trap!"

The bushel basket was placed in the center of the wooden boat which gave the boys room to empty the booty from the traps.

Ready said Tommy.

Let’s go! Ronnie shrugged yeah we wouldn’t want to be telling some fish story like your uncle tells at the dinner table.

Yeah Tommy laughs.

Watch your fingers! Tommy said, watching intently.

He opens the secret door and the boys pick up the large trap and dump the crabs into the basket. Tumbling down into their new world the crabs fell linked to each other, some claw to claw, and some even losing their claws in the fall. But, Bob holds on to the cage bars and refuses to fall or even be shaken into the basket.

The king is alone; he is the last one. There is a poker in the boat for such things as stubborn crabs. Ronnie taps on his hard shell, to try to move him, but Bob doesn’t move.

Hit his claw… push him from underneath, maybe he’ll let go shouted Tommy.

He’s not moving yells Ronnie.

Suddenly, the king crab grabs the poker with his right claw, his larger claw, and puts on a dazzling display of fight, like Aero Flynn, as Captain Smith swinging across the bow of the Bounty. Tommy flips the cage, Bob lets go of the bar of the trap and is lowered down into the basket by means of the wooden poker.

With both super claws open, the king dances on his back legs ready for a fight, which is finally over. Tommy puts the lid on the basket, and a stone. The boys watch the lid jump as Bob bangs on the lid from underneath. Bob, hoping for an easy escape makes another attempt. Ronnie puts on the lid a second stone.

The mere appearance of Bob says that life in the channel is different than that of the coastal inlets. This hard shell warrior is a survivor many a predator, including the mighty rock fish which can eat easily fifty pounds of crab per day in the Chesapeake costal wet lands.

Formidable ribbed clad amore, Bob has razor sharp ridges, and an unusual challenge to most predators in the sometimes murky waters of the blue-green sea grass regions.

Dancing on the sandy dunes with an attractive female on a full moon are only a small part of Bobs’ career resume; lighten speed claws and burst of sonic sprints keep Bob content with his ability to cut chicken neck lines, fooling the hunter at the hunt, and maintain a vigilant watch throughout the channel for turtle remains, or flounder, rock and occasional shark.

The brackish waters of the Bay do not contain the desired amount of oxygen. Sometimes Tiger sharks will swim up the Chesapeake, but rarely pass under the bridge from the Atlantic. But, they become disoriented, resting in the deeper water of the channels they die.

For the life of the shark, the top feeder, has become a great supply for the bottom feeders and friends.

In the natural order of the sea, everything will return to the micro’, its’ basic elements, and begin again.

Tommy’s’ Uncle warned the boys that a large Blue could bite off a man’s finger. Put on the big cloves if you are goina handle them, but Tommy left them on the pier when they loaded the boat. Ronnie lucked out with the poker.

Boys, naturally love adventure. The cove contained everything essential to the growth and education of a young mind while viewing the natural world from within. Encountering Bob, the King, would leave an indelible memory upon Tommy and Ronnie, however, it would not be a radical experience, bringing a permanent life change or transformation, but, a paramount one, of which friends would, later in life, doubt actually happened, viewed as another fish story, shared at another crab feast.

The hot summer sun baked the two boys in the boat as they struggled with the heavy cages. They were fixed targets for the merciless sun, and hourly the boys turned redder and darker. Due to a high rate of adrenaline rushing through their young bodies, they did not feel any change to their skin.

In the rest of that afternoon, the balance of traps did not contain a catch like Bob, yet, the boys were able to fill three and one half bushels of crabs. The days catch was double the yield they usually pull from the traps. Partly due to the longer days and the warmer waters of August in the Chesapeake, the catch was more plentiful. The size of the rest of the channel crabs did not come even close to Bob and his thick round claws and super large body.

So what do you want to do Tommy? Swim some more or hang out in your aunt’s house? tapping his snorkel in his hand.

I haven’t tried out my new mask yet! We got the crabs iced so…I say, let’s swim for a while until my Mom comes. said Tommy.

Ok shrugging his shoulders Ronnie smiles.

The sun had completed its’ revolution, and was now hanging above the tree line on the southwest part of the cove. A milky blue sky was visible over the entire Bay accept for the horizon on the eastern shore. Having a line of white cumulonimbus clouds, like tall ships in a harbor they lined the horizon of the shore.

Tommy and Ronnie separated for the first time in the day to explore the cove alone. Their partnership was natural and began eight year before, riding bikes together and exploring parks, trails, and many weekend excursions, the two boys shared a bond that would prove to be unbreakable, and the only truly functional relationship with another male Tommy would ever know like that one.

Sheer freedom is arresting to the heart for a boy, captivating to his senses. The cove opened up the boys to a total capacity of the bountiful world unseen from the shore line.

Tommy pushes his way into water about five foot deep, and then does his dolphin dive, in order to gain depth. Spreading his hands out fully extended, Tommy slows his momentum and maintains buoyancy.

The floor of the cove was covered in grass. He can feel the pulse of the bay from the waves rolling overhead. The natural sea floor topography was neat, balanced and beautiful. Mother Nature has built on the underwater dunes many palatial garden, and in the sandy areas with plants, and a variety of sea grasses she has beautified the entire cove floor.

Tommy! Come here shout Ronnie from across the cove. What is it replies Tommy, I’m coming!

Its’ a ship said Ronnie.

Tommy swims over no its’ not. Putting his mask on, he dives down to the wreck and examines the site. Breathing heavy It’s too small to be a ship, look at the mass! Ronnie!

It’s a small skipjack, my Uncle thinks it is from the 1920’s!" Just then, Tommy catches, out of the corner of his eye, Mr.

Williams, the neighbor, from on his pier, he was casting his rod for a late night fish.

So… are there any valuables down there? laughed Ronnie. Tommy looks down into the surface of the rippling water and says, Not sure, never really checked.

Distracted by the activity on the pier, Tommy looked back, and sees Mrs. Williams. She is standing with her hands on her hips, her neck extended and angled intently toward Mr. Williams, with his hands at his side and he seemed to be lobbing about, like that of a funny dance lifting his feet in place.

What is that shining thing? Tommy!

I don’t know He said, I think it may be part of the mass Ronnie performs a shallow dive to look at the mass of the small boat.

Echoed in the cove, Tommy hears Mrs. Williams’ voice. Your eyes are always looking where they’re not supposed to be! …aaahhh Tommy’s eyes are watching Ronnie as he swims over the wreck site. Ronnie blows water from his snorkel and dives again.

He glances over at the Williams’ home, and sees Mrs. Williams headed into the back door; the only thing left on the pier is Mr. Williams’ bucket.

He swims over to the platform as Ronnie comes up for breath.

Hey where you’d go yelled Ronnie.

I’d rather just swim, my Mom will be coming soon, and …you know what that means! said Tommy in a low monotone voice.

Oh …ok, but… we gotta check it out next time we come…ok? said Ronnie.

Ok Tommy putting on his mask, "We