Curva Peligrosa
By Lily Iona MacKenzie
Genre: Literary magical realism
When Curva Peligrosa arrives in Weed, Alberta, after a
twenty-year trek on the Old North Trail from southern Mexico, she stops its
residents in their tracks. With a parrot on each shoulder, a glittering gold
tooth, and a wicked trigger finger, she is unlike anything they have ever seen
before. Curva is ready to settle down, but are the inhabitants of Weed ready
for her? Possessed of an insatiable appetite for
life and love, Curva’s infectious energy galvanizes the townspeople,
turning their staid world upside down with her exotic elixirs and unbridled
ways. Toss in an unscrupulous americano developer and a one-eyed Blackfoot
chief, stir them all together in the tumult of a tempestuous tornado, and the
town of Weed will never be the same again. A lyrical account of one woman’s
journey and the unexpected effects it has on the people around her, Curva
Peligrosa pulses with the magic at the heart and soul of life.
About the Author
A Canadian by birth, a high school dropout, and a mother at
17, in my early years, I supported myself as a stock girl in the Hudson’s Bay
Company, as a long-distance operator for the former Alberta Government
Telephones, and as a secretary (Bechtel Corp sponsored me into the States). I also was a cocktail waitress at the Fairmont Hotel
in San Francisco, briefly broke into the male-dominated world of the docks as a
longshoreman (I was the first woman to work on the SF docks and almost got my
legs broken), founded and managed a homeless shelter in Marin
County, co-created The Story Shoppe, a weekly radio program for children
that aired on KTIM in Marin County, CA, and eventually earned two Master’s
degrees (one in creative writing and one in the humanities). I have
published reviews, interviews, short fiction, poetry, travel pieces, essays,
and memoir in over 150 American and Canadian venues. My
novel Fling! was published in 2015. Curva Peligrosa, another
novel, will be published in September 2017. Freefall: A Divine
Comedy will be released in 2018. My
poetry collection All This was published in 2011. I have taught at
the University of San Francisco for over 30 years, and I
blog at http://lilyionamackenzie.wordpress.com.
On Twitter: @lilyionamac
On Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lily.iona.mackenzie/
On Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lily.iona.mackenzie/
On Amazon: http://amzn.to/2tQb5eS
Bones Will
Be Bones
They didn’t think
much about it when the wind picked up without warning late one summer afternoon and a dark cloud hurtled towards them
over the prairies. Alberta residents are used to nature’s unpredictability:
snowstorms in summer; spring thaws during severe cold snaps; hail or
thunderstorms appearing out of nowhere on a perfect summer day. At times, hot dry winds roar through like Satan’s breath,
churning up the soil and sucking it into the air, turning the sky dark as ink.
Months later, some people are still digging out from under the spewed
dirt.
But this wasn’t just
a windstorm. A tornado aimed directly at the town of Weed, it whipped itself
into a frenzy. To the Weedites, it sounded like a freight train bearing down on
them, giving off a high-pitched shriek the closer it got, like a stuck whistle.
The noise drowned out everything else. Right before the tornado hit, a wall of
silence descended, as if the cyclone and every living thing in the area had
been struck dumb.
And then a
completely intact purple outhouse dropped into the center of town, a
crescent-shaped moon carved into its door. It landed right next to the Odd
Fellows Hall and behind the schoolhouse. Most people thought the privy had been spared because its owner—Curva Peligrosa,
a mystery since her arrival two years earlier—had been using it at the
time.
Meanwhile, the
tornado’s racket resumed, and Curva sat inside the outhouse, peering through a
slit in the door at the village dismantling around her. The funnel sucked up
whole buildings and expelled them, turning most of Weed upside down and inside out. Unhinged from houses, doors and roofs flew past, along with walls
freed from their foundations. The loosening of so many buildings’ restraints
released something inside Curva. Never had she been so aroused. It was more
exhilarating than riding the horse she’d bartered for recently, a wild gelding.
The horse excited her, especially when she imagined herself riding its huge
organ. In the midst of the noise and clatter, just as the tornado reached its
climax, Curva had hers.
A heavy rain
followed, some of it seeping into Curva’s sanctuary and dampening the walls as
well as her nightdress. So much rain pelted the town it created a flood that
overran the main street. Protected from the worst of the storm, Curva drowsed
and dreamt that she fell through the hole in the seat, landing on the ground
with a soft thud next to a pile of bones, each about ten inches long, worn
smooth from the elements. She grabbed one and—still aroused—used it, waking to
the melting feeling of another orgasm and the sound of rain pelting the roof.
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