Silverbacks—Ep.7 (Part One)
A La Paz, Bolivia Special
***THIS IS AN AD (scroll below picture for beginning of story). Silver Backs, the short story below, is brought to you by the album Voices in Harmony by Adrian Baker, Roy Morgan, and Andrew Jackman.
Description: a because we can, a nana nana boo boo look what I can do. While being an impressive creation, this album completely disregards human capacity. Overfilled with aesthetics, it frays synapses, causing an itchy irritation to the eardrums (song for refrence). It often leaves listeners in a state of flippant stupor (song for reference), which has uses in specific cases (see below).
Uses: disarms moments of chaos, pandemonium, and stress, often adding a comedic tinge to the hoopla, by combating the over-stimulus with more stimulus (double negative = positive). Proven to be useful in events such as neurotic traffic jams, gnats swarming the face, short stories such as Silver Backs, etc.
Cost: free will
***fine print backslash symptoms***
Note: In some patients, a dull itch has persisted long after consumption. In newly appreciated silence and in noise alike, these patients are left with a longing, a desire to hear something with more depth. It has been reported that periodically reapplying this album has alleviated these symptoms.
***click here for backstory and character list, and here to start from Ep.1
Silverbacks—Ep.7
A floating orb caught Manny’s sight. He brushed his thick, dark strands of hair off his forehead and leaned into the window. The flying 1991 Ford Ranger had struggled to keep a regular flight pattern above the city. Each time the truck pitched and swerved, Manny braced himself against the door panel with his knee and with his elbow against the cloth center console. He had flexed into this position when he saw the orb, even though at that precise moment the flying 1991 Ford Ranger flew clean and true.
It was only when his muscles grew a little fatigued, and he relaxed, that the truck misfired and dropped several feet, leaving them momentarily weightless. After catching gravity again, Manny flashed a look at Jo. Jo’s left foot sat up on the vent that blew constant ambient air. He steered with a single finger on the wheel. Looking back at Manny, he gave two antagonizing raises of his eyebrows as he continued to nibble on the dead skin on one of his knuckles
Normally, Jo hid the abilities of his magic Ford Ranger, but it was not necessary above La Paz, Bolivia, a city with no boundaries for what’s acceptable. The city sat in a natural bowl scooped out of the high Andes plains. Sitting to the north, the ancient silverback mountain of Huayna Potosí looked indifferently upon the city’s fractal bustle.
Jo traced the Ford Ranger around the lip of the bowl before slowly starting a swirling descent. Manny saw another orb in the distance, then another directly below. Blue and shiny, they moved slowly. He found another climbing up to the top of the bowl at around eye level. With a closer look, he realized it, and the rest of the orbs were attached to cables, and that the orbs were, in fact, Gondolas. Dozens of them moved lazily above the hazy brick and cement buildings. As they swirled further down towards the heart of the city, Manny could see individuals inside.
“Told you it was bullshit,” said Jo.
Manny looked over to Jo. Jo dropped his foot off the vent and made a banking turn. He looked down into the city through the side window.
“It still flushes in the same direction down here.”
“You never told me shit,” said Manny.
“I didn’t have to…” Jo straightened the truck out. “It’s what everyone says.”
Manny looked back out the window. On a street in the distance below, he saw somebody in a full giraffe costume running through the traffic. Another person, dressed in a zebra outfit, chased after him.
“What is this place on?” said Manny.
“Welcome to the real país libre.”
A stack of cars waited for a red light. Jo landed his truck right behind them. None of the public seemed to notice or pay any attention to their mystic arrival.
Jo followed the flow of the cars. At the next light, he jumped out, leaving the car running, and walked to the Toyota Corolla wagon sitting in line in front of them. With no hesitation, he climbed into the backseat. Manny clicked his teeth and rolled down the window. The light turned green, and the Corolla pulled away. A car horn blared. Manny looked back to see a van full of people. The driver made a shooing gesture with his hand.
“For fucks sake,” Manny muttered to himself before climbing over the cloth center console and getting behind the wheel. The horn’s blare turned more aggressive as others further behind also chimed in.
It took Manny a moment before he found the Corolla. It had made a right turn down a small one-way street. As he pulled up behind, the Corolla’s brake lights came on, and before the car came to a stop, Jo hopped out with the car still rolling. He left from the opposite side of the car where he entered, and he had thin wire sunglasses that he wasn’t wearing before. Casually, he walked back over to the passenger side of his magical truck and hopped in.
“The fuck?” said Manny.
“Ah, they were nice,” replied Jo.
After they parked, Manny followed Jo into an unmarked building. Dried leaves, spices, and bagged food hung from the ceiling. Jo walked over to the counter and bought a sack of leaves and two large beers.
In the same building, they climbed some stairs to find a small terrace. With plastic chairs and tables, a few people slowly worked through bowls of food. In the corner of the terrace, a kitchenette and a bar stood with large glass jugs resting on top. An older toothless lady sat next to the bar and nodded at the pair walking in. She was chewing on a wad of something in her mouth and spat some of it into one of the large jugs at her feet. As they made their way to the corner table, she grabbed a pinch of yellowish mash from a plastic sack and placed it in her mouth.
“You drugged me again, huh?” asked Manny. Jo sipped on his beer as he scanned around at the sight of the surrounding city. After a couple of quick swigs, he motioned over to the server and ordered some food.
Pushing his lips to the side of his face, he said, “That’s the problem, actually.” He kicked his feet out and started reaching into his pants pocket. Manny brushed the hair back off his forehead. Dropping the bag of leaves on the table, Jo unwrapped the plastic and took some out, holding it toward Manny, “Take. Takeeee.”
Manny grabbed it hesitantly, pinching the dry broken leaves with his fingers. “Do I get to ask what it is?” asked Manny.
Jo picked out another large clump of the leaves and stuffed it into his cheek. He smiled broadly with an open mouth as he sat back. “Coca.” He closed his mouth and sucked and swirled some saliva around the leaves before he said, “Helps with the altitude.”
Manny nodded his head with softly closed eyes. He gave a shallow swallow before placing the leaves into his cheek.
The coca leaves and beer playfully wrestled and fought for superiority in their blood. They shared a silent observation of the unhinged streets below. A llama walked by alone, rope dragging on the floor behind. Another furry costumed person crossed the street and entered a phone store. Down one of the nearby small streets, a small crowd gathered around two foosball tables. At a traffic light, three kids climbed on top of each other while the one on top began to juggle.
Manny took a large swig of his beer. He leaned back and smiled. His eyelids sat low and relaxed. “This place is sick,” he said.
“Costco certified,” replied Jo.
The bowls of food came. Manny did not know what Jo had ordered. Meat on the bone sat in a green, clear broth with a yellowish oil slick sitting on top. Balls of potatoes sat at the bottom. Manny took a first sip with his spoon and started coughing and choking.
Jo followed with a small sip directly from the bowl and laughed with some slight coughs of his own. “Peanuts.”
Manny looked through his bowl as he swallowed coarsely. “What?”
“You’re choking on peanut powder. This is sopa de mani. Peanut soup.”
Manny took another careful spoonful.
“It’s good, no?” asked Jo
“Yeah, it’s good.”
“Personally, prefer it with a little more chalk, a little more choke,” said Jo.
They finished the sopa de mani. The old lady behind them kept chewing on the mash and spitting while watching them. Jo pointed up the hill over Manny’s shoulder. “You see that?”
Manny twisted around in his plastic chair. A mess of beige and brick stretched up the hill with the incessant flow of people spewing between them.
“See what?”
“Down that small alley,” Jo lifted out of his seat slightly as he leaned forward and pointed. “There.”
The alley Jo pointed to had a curtain of furs, dried vines, and other objects hanging from small canopies. A sea of swaying legs and arms swarmed throughout. Further in, a hazy smoke poured out of one of the doorways, veiling what lay behind.
“I see it.”
“That’s a witch market,” said Jo.
Manny glanced towards him with strained eyes.
“No more diluted panchos, my friend. Nobody in North County has what they have down there.”
Manny gave one more look towards the alley before sitting forward again. He let his fingers gently tilt and rotate his empty beer bottle on the table while he studied Jo.
“You want some chicha?” asked Jo.
“Yeah, let’s run it.”
Jo motioned over to the bar and ordered two chichas. The worker nodded and opened one of the jugs of fluid sitting on the bar. Manny watched as they lowered two small glasses to scoop the fluid inside. As they walked over to deliver the drinks, Manny found the eyes of the toothless old lady. She gave him a slight smile and nod before spitting into the jar at her feet. When the glasses clinked down onto the table, she reloaded her cheek with more mash.