Interlude 16: El Milagro de la Luchadora de Cuernos Plateados
Wind blew across the farm, kicking up dust, disturbing the chickens pecking in the hard earth, and fluttering the cape of a mysterious masked hero, who stood atop an old barrel, surveying the battlefield.
Mateo planted his hands on his hips and pointed dramatically forward. “Hault, evildoer! Or you will face the Silver Masked Symbol of Justice, El Santo!”
Said evildoer looked up, still chewing her cud. She swallowed, then let out a playful “Mu,” and pranced about a bit, kicking her legs. That made the blue cape she was wearing flutter in the breeze a bit, which made Mateo grin widely.
“Ah it is the mysterious and evil Masked Wrestler, Vanesa!” Mateo said. His pet cow licked her nose and turned towards him, tail swishing in anticipation.
“TOPE DE CRISTO!” Mateo yelled, and flung himself at Varessa. The calf obligingly let him tackle her to the ground, rolling over in the dirt as Mateo tried to put her in La de a Caballo, which didn’t work very well on a cow: Varessa was happy to let Mateo sit on her back, but him pulling on her neck didn’t do much. Eventually, Varessa got bored and just bucked Mateo off, then licked the salt off his sweaty face as he lay on the brown grass and laughed.
“Mati, why are you playing with the cow again?”
Blushing, Mateo picked himself up and tried to brush off a bit of the straw on him. His older sister Sofía frowned down at him, arms folded over her chest. She was dressed for work, with Jeans and a faded and worn Lady Apache t-shirt. Sofía was in Bivalente, though she had said she probably wasn’t going back to school in the fall, there was too much work to do on the farm.
“I was, um, I was practicing! And, um, Vanesa was helping!” Mateo tried to explain, blushing furiously. He desperately wanted to be a Luchador when he grew up, and spent every available moment
Sofía sighed, then tossed a shovel at Mateo. “Well, we’ve got work to do. Go muck out the hen house and collect the eggs. Feed them, too. I’ve got to go help dad in the field. You stay here with mamá and abuela, in case they need you.”
Mateo looked at Vanesa’s back and noted she had a shotgun slung there. It was the same gun they used to shoot coyotes and javalina that got into the fields or one of the animal pens, but it was odd that she had it on in broad daylight.
“Is…is everything OK?” Mateo asked, clutching the shovel tightly. Vanesa came over and pressed herself against him, and he felt a lot better. The calf had always been friendly and was becoming more so.
“It’s fine,” Sofía said, tucking a lock of hair back under the ballcap she had on. She gave Mateo a smile, and then lied. “Just some wolves that have been spotted in the area, we’re being careful.”
There were no wolves anywhere near the farm that Mateo knew of. His teacher had talked about reintroducing them into the wild, but Mateo thought that was stupid. Wolves ate cows like Vanesa! As well as chickens and pigs. His family were farmers, but they had plenty of animals, too. Mostly Vanesa’s mom, who they used for milk. She was getting old, though, and Vanesa was probably her last calf. When she ran dry, Mateo knew they’d probably eat her.
Not Vanesa, though! She was his friend! He was very glad her destiny was to be a milk cow and not a carne asada cow.
That thought kept him distracted just long enough for Sofía to stride away and jump onto one of their quads before roaring off towards the fields.
Sighing, Mateo took of his mask, then walked over to the gate and opened it. He let Vanesa out with him and told her, “Come on, let’s go feed the stupid chickens.”
“Muuu,” Vanesa said, then tried to lick Mateo’s face. He frowned at her and batted her away, then took off her cape and tossed it with the mask into an old wooden box where he kept his other toys. His mother had made the mask and cape, and the rest of his toys were old and beaten. The family didn’t have much money for new things, especially not toys. But Mateo didn’t mind: He had a Rey Mysterio figure that he treasured nearly as much as the El Santo mask, as well as a Hulk Hogan. But he was a Gringo, so he was the bad guys. That was why Rey Mysterio teamed up with Goku to fight Hulk Hogan and Alexandria. Obviously, Rey and Goku won every time, but only after a fierce battle.
Mateo hoped it wasn’t the gringos again that his sister had the shotgun for. If it were, the gun would be useless. All the Gringos were capes from the Protectorate. They did “patrols,” and Mateo’s father said they were trying to scare everyone and steal their land to make everyone a part of the Estados Unidos, just like they’d done a thousand years ago before abuela was born. Or maybe it was more than that, Mateo wasn’t too sure. He didn’t remember a time before capes like his parents did. He didn’t even remember a time before the Holy Archons had come like Sofía did.
Mateo prayed every day that a Holy Archon would come to Mexico, and soon. If it wasn’t the Gringos and their capes, it was the Cartels and theirs. He didn’t know which was worse.
Mateo fed the chickens, and gave Vanesa a handful of chicken feed as well, which delighted the greedy heifer. He giggled as her wet tongue licked his fingers, then tossed the rest of the fed to the chickens. The rooster tried to pick a fight with Vanesa, jumping and kicking at her while he crowed, but the calf just playfully headbutted the bird and sent him tumbling. The cock picked himself up with great dignity and strutted around like nothing had happened, but then flapped away to perch on top of the henhouse when Vanesa came back for round two.
“Be nice to Don Pico, he keeps the snakes and the rats away, and we need the eggs,” Meteo told Vanesa. She tried to peer into his bucket to look at the eggs, but he shook his head. “Cows don’t eat eggs, silly. You eat feed and grass.”
“Muuu,” Vanesa said mournfully, and Mateo grinned.
“I’ll bring you a carrot from inside, we still have some.”
“Muu!” Vanesa squealed and kicked her hooves to show her approval.
The house was an old stucco building with a red tiled roof. But the paint around the door was fresh, and while the mat by the door was dusty and worm, the building was in good repair and the inside was near spotless.
Mateo brought the eggs to Mamá and Abuela, but something was wrong. Abuela was sitting at the kitchen table, and she had two candles lit, and was holding her rosary as she prayed. Mamá was at the sink, but she wasn’t washing dishes, just staring out the window towards the field, to where Papá, Sofiá, and Mateo’s uncle Ernesto were working. He stood on his tiptoes, but he couldn’t see anything out the window.
“Mamá? I have the eggs. Can I give Vanesa a carrot?” Mateo asked, putting the eggs on the counter.
Breaking her staring contest with the horizon, Mamá turned and smiled at Mateo, reaching down to ruffle his hair. “Yes, that’s fine. You do love that heifer, don’t you? You know she’s not a pet, Mateo.”
“She’s my friend,” Mateo said stubbornly. “We won’t eat her. She’ll give milk, when Doña Muu goes dry.”
“Yes, we’ll have to get Roberto’s bull to visit her soon, she’s almost a year old,” Mamá said as Mateo got a carrot out of the old refrigerator.
He was just feeding the carrot to Vanesa, when he heard the sharp report of a gun. That wasn’t all that unusual. If there was a javelina, or a coyote, or even just a plump rabbit, shots from the fields were not unheard of.
The staccato sound of automatic weapons fire that followed, however, were not. There was a scream from the house, and before Mateo knew it, abuela’s strong leathery hand was on Mateo’s back. “Go! Take the cow, hide in the old shed! Do it, until one of us gets you, Mati! Hurry!”
Fear filled Mateo felt fear fill him, and tears spilled down his cheeks, but he did as he was told. More gun shots as he ran, then silence. On impulse, he grabbed his box of toys, his most treasured possessions, and clutched them to himself as he headed for the shed. As soon as he had the shed door open, Vanesa headbutted him, knocking him inside and causing him to fall amidst the dusty old burlap sacks. The door swung shut behind her, and Mateo breathed hard in the darkness, holding Vanesa tightly to him as he cried in fear.
Soon, he heard loud men’s voices. They spoke Spanish, not English like the gringos. Then, he heard Mamá scream. “No! Take me, not her!”
The men swore, and he heard Sofiá crying.
Then, all of a sudden, there was light. Mateo blinked as purple brilliance filled the darkness of the shed. A young woman’s face peered down at him curiously, and all he could do was stare back.
Then, she knelt down and kissed him on the forehead. “Don’t worry, Mati. It’s going to be OK. A hero is here.”
The woman bent down to the box of toys, and Mati blushed and looked away. She was naked! Fortunately, she wrapped herself in Vanesa’s cape, then pulled on the El Santo mask. There was a ripping sound, though, as it had to go over her two large horns. Then she grabbed the old pair of overalls and shimmied into them.
“Stay here, Mati. I’ll save them!” the girl promised. Then she opened the shed door and ran outside.
Mateo peered out of the gap, and watched as the girl lept into the air. A man in army fatigues with a rifle turned towards her, and had just enough time for a shocked expression before she screamed, “ULTIMATE FLYING KICK!”
There was the crash of thunder, the cartel thug was hit so hard he left his boots behind as he went cartwheeling into the dusty red land cruiser.
“VILLAINS! EL SANTO IS HERE!” the masked heroine declared, planting her hands on her hips, blue cape fluttering behind her in the breeze. “PREPARE TO FACE JUSTICE!”
Two more thugs rushed out of the house with weapons drawn, and Mateo pumped his fist as the Luchadora roared out, “SIX ONE NINE!” and did a cartwheel so that her legs grabbed the top of one of the men’s head, then flipped backward so that she slammed him into his companion.
“ELBOW OF JUSTICE!” resulted in an elbow drop right into the backs of both men in an explosion of purple electricity, and Mateo couldn’t help but cheer.
There were gunshots, and bullets burst out of the thin stucco walls of the house, zipping past the masked heroine. She sprinted inside, and there were more cries of “MYSTERIOSO EXPRESS!” and “LA DE A CABELLO!”
Then, it was quiet. Mateo hurried inside, to find the masked hero helping a shaken Sofiá back into her shirt. Mamá was doing up her bra, and abuela looked dazed, blood matting her hair.
“Mati!” Mamá cried, and ran over to hug him.
“Here, let me see that,” the Luchadora said, and took abuela’s head in her hands. Lighting crackled, and abula groaned in pain, but the blood stoped, then scabbed and crusted over.
“Who, who are you?” Sofiá asked, sounding shaken.
“I am El Santo! Hero of Justice!” the luchadora exclaimed, standing and swishing her cape while she struck a dramatic pose.
“But you’re a girl,” Mateo pointed out. “You would be La Santa.”
“Oh.” Their rescuer blushed under her mask, then hastily amended, “I am…La Santa! Um, daughter of El Santo! Now, brave citizens, fear not! I will go and rescue Papá and Uncle Ernesto! Back in a flash!”
Then, in a crackle of lightning, their savior lowered her head and sped away, legs spinning comically like she was Speedy Gonzales.
Wiggling out of Mamá’s grasp, Mateo hurried after her.
“Mateo, no!” Mamá cried, but Sofiá scooped up a fallen machine gun, then tossed a second to Mateo.
“Into the car! The keys are in the ignition!” she ordered, and they piled into the cartel members’ Land Rover.
“¡Hijo de—! ARR! They nearly- me and Mamá! And killed Abuela! Shoot to kill, Mateo!” Sofia snarled as she gunned the engine and raced after La Santa. Despite putting the pedal to the metal, La Santa pulled ahead of them. There were more gunshots, and Sofiá and Mateo had to duck as several impacted the car’s windshield, which already was cracked from bullet holes.
Sofiá pulled the landrover into a side and jumped out, but most of the cartel members were already down, save for one heavily muscled brute, who was panting and holding onto large piece of scrap metal he was using as a club. He was obviously a cape of some sort, and he was burned and bleeding as he stared down La Santa.
“Punta, where did you even come from!?” the man growled, shaking his head.
“The Planet Vegita, home of the Sayians!” La Santa declared, raising one hand in a V sign. “I was sent by my father, El Santo, to-”
Unfortunately, the riveting and completely real backstory (Mateo was certain, it was the same backstory he had come up with for his own heroic persona, El Santo Junior, who had been trained by Goku on Planet Vegita before coming to Earth to help El Santo save Mexico) was interrupted when the cartel cape rudely charged La Santa. She squeaked and jumped aside just as the dry ground exploded into dust, which made Mateo close his eyes and cough.
There was more crackling lightning, and Sofiá fired off a few rounds, just to be sure. Mateo didn’t think that was a good idea, so he pointed his gun at the sky before he pulled the trigger.
“Cease fire! The villain…is vanquished!” La Santa’s voice called.
The wind blew away the dust, and La Santa stood proudly atop the body of the cartel boot, a triumphant grin on her masked face, Electro Vision sparkling from the pocket of her overalls.
“Where…where are dad and Uncle Ernesto?” Sofiá asked her voice shaking.
“Oh no! PAPÁ! UNCLE ERNESTO!” La Santa screamed, real fear in voice.
They soon found both men. Papá was bleeding badly from his leg which had been, while Uncle Ernesto was unconscious and beaten badly in addition to being shot in the gut.
“S-Sofiá? Mateo?” Papá croaked from the trampled wheat as the three children ran up to him.
“I-It’s OK, Papá! I, I can save you!” La Santa said, tears wetting her mask.
He blinked at her in confusion, but she grabbed his wound in her hands, and her Vision glowed. “La Virgen de Guadalupe, please, don’t take my father and uncle yet, give him healing in his time of need,” La Santa begged.
Mateo and Sofiá watched in amazement as power flowed out of La Santa and over both their father and Uncle Ernesto. Both men shuddered, and Papá cried out in pain, but when it finished, both men were whole, though Uncle Ernesto was still unconscious.
“PAPÁ!” Mateo and Sofiá cried, dropping their guns and running down the short bank to throw themselves on their father as La Santa sat back and sighed in relief.
“My darlings, it is a miracle you are safe,” Papá cried, kissing them both and squeezing them tightly. Then, they turned to their mysterious masked savior. “And who…who are you?”
“Um, um, I-I am…” La Santa sprang up, looking nervous. “A masked hero for justice! Farewell, citizens! My planet needs me!”
Then she sprinted behind the nearby landrover. There was a crack of lighting, and a moment later, Vanesa trotted around the side of the vehicle, still wearing the El Santo mask and blue cape, and the torn remains of blue jeans, which still had a glowing Vision dangling in a pocket.
“Mu,” she said. Only, it sounded like a person saying moo, not a cow. Then, completely ruining the effect, added, “Nothing to see here, citizens. Just a normal cow!”
“You can talk!?” Sofiá gasped, but Mateo jumped up and ran to Vanessa and threw his arms about her.
“You were amazing, Vanesa! A real Luchadora! You saved us!”
“I don’t know what you mean, citizen,” Vanesa said, then licked Mateo’s face. “Hey, I’m hungry. Can we have lunch? Can I try some eggs? I’ve always wanted to try eggs!”
Papá and Sofiá came over, Papá looking stunned, while Sofiá laughed. “I can’t believe it! Mati, do you know what this means?!”
“We should let her try abuela’s huevos rancheros. It’s only fair,” Mateo said stubbornly, and hugged Vanesa’s neck.
“It means…it means we don’t have to be afraid of the Cartel, or the Gringos,” Papá said, and reached down to rub Vanesa between her horns through the El Santo mask. “Thank you. You…you saved my family. You saved my life.”
“Of course, Papá! I couldn’t let my family be- I mean, La Santa couldn’t let our family be hurt!” Vanesa declared, tail swishing happily.
“You’re not fooling anyone, you know,” Mateo told her. “But I won’t tell your secret.”
“Aw, really? Oh, darn it! Is it because I forgot to take off the mask? It’s because I forgot to take off the mask, isn’t it,” Vanesa sighed.
“I don’t think there’s too many talking cows in Chihuahua. Or the world, for that matter,” Sofiá said dryly. “Come on, let’s go back to the house, and I’ll give you some of my clothes. We’re about the same size, though you’re more…uh, thick. So it might be tight.”
Abula and Mamá took the revelation that their dairy cow had become their newest family member rather well, especially since Vanesa had just saved everyone from certain doom at the hands of the cartel. Vanesa went back to being a girl, though she still had horns coming out of her dark brown hair on her head and a long tail with a switch at the end.
Abuela and Mamá prepared a huge fiesta, and when Uncle Ernesto woke up, Mateo regaled him with tales of the battle to his uncle’s shock. The other farmers and their families all came over, many of them bringing dishes to celebrate, and an impromptu fiesta was held.
“Can it be my quinceañera!? I always wanted a quinceañera, like Sofiá had last year!” Vanesa begged.
Everyone agreed, and a sparkling purple dress was procured for her, along with a crown of roses for hear to wear. Uncle Ernesto got out his guitar and played, and their neighbor Senior Roberto got out his mandolin to accompany it. There was singing and dancing, and more food than anyone could eat.
Well, anyone but Vanesa. She seemed to have an endless capacity for food, much to the abuela’s delight.
Close to sunset, however, The Incident happened. Someone had brought over a grill, and begun making hamburgers. Papá noticed and went to scold them and tell them to get rid of them for some reason, but Vanesa had smelled the burgers, and grabbed one before anyone noticed save Mateo. They both prepared their own patties on a bun, which ketchup, mustard, mayo, pickles, lettuce, tomato, and avocado.
They were just about to take a bite, when Sofiá saw them. She let out a startled gasp of horror, just as Mateo and Vanesa bit into their hamburgers.
“NO!” Sofiá screamed, which made Mateo jump and nearly drop his food.
“Huh? What is it? Are there bad guys? Should I get La Santa?” Vanesa asked, using one hand to reach for the El Santo mask she had stuffed down the bodice of her dress.
“No, you…you can’t…You ate it!” Sofiá said in strangled tones.
The party had gone silent, everyone looking at Vanesa and Mateo in horror.
“What is it? Do I have ketchup on my nose?” Vanesa asked, and reached up, wiping at invisible stains.
“No, Vanesa…that burger…it’s…it’s from a cow,” Mamá said gently, looking like she was going to throw up.
“Uh, yeah?” Vanesa said, sounding confused.
“Duh, we know where burgers come from,” Mateo added.
The look of rage Mamá shot him made him flinch and think she was about to take her chancla’s off, but then she calmed down despite his back sass. “No, Vanesa…that’s…you’re eating…you’re eating a cow. You’re…well, you’re a cow.”
“Wow, I’m delicious,” Vanesa said, then took another big bite as everyone gasped in horror.
Mateo didn’t know why, and bit off another mouthful of the tasty meat.
“What? I’m not a cow anymore,” Vanesa said, frowning at everyone. “See? I’m a person now! People eat cows. I’m a people, and I eat cows!”
“F-Father Gregorio?”Mamá said, turning to their local priest, who looked just as flummoxed as everyone else.
“Well, er…I will write Bishop Fernadez,” Father Gregorio said, then shrugged. “But…she is a person. Wait…you have not been baptized! Or said holy communion!”
That resulted in the hasty procurement of a clean basin of water, and Vanesa was brought before Father Gregorio, who had put on his eccumenical collar and a black jacket, though he still had on jeans like when he helped in the fields. Mateo was stuffed into his best Sunday clothes and had his hair brushed, while Sofiá put on a dress and Mamá and Papá put on their own nicest clothing. Everyone stood around solemnly as Father Gregorio blessed the basin, then stood before a nervous Vanesa, while Mamá and Papá put their hands on her shoulders.
“What name do you give this child?” Father Gregorio asked Mamá and Papá.
“Vanesa María Juana Aguirre,” Papá stated, looking proud as Don Pico. Later, he would explain that he named Vanesa for the Holy Virgin, Santa Juana de Arco, and their own family name of Aguirre.
“And what do you ask of God’s Church for Vanesa María Juana Aguirre?” Father Gregorio asked.
“Baptism.”
Father Gregorio nodded, then turned to Vanesa. “And what do you want to become?”
“A Catholic Christian,” Vanesa responded immediately, and knelt.
“Why do you want to become a Christian?”
“Because I believe in Christ.”
“What do you gain by belief in Christ?”
“Eternal life.”
“Do you reject sin to live in the freedom of God’s children?”
“I do.”
“Do you reject the glamor of evil, and refuse to be mastered by sin?”
“I do.”
“Do you reject Satan and Scion, Father of Sin and his Prince of Demons?”
“I do.”
Taking out a small vial, Father Gregorio anointed Vanesa with oil on both hands.
“Now, recite the catechism,” he said.
Mateo had practiced the Catacism with Vanessa many times, though before, she had just listened as he said it. It seemed she remembered though, as she recited the Profession of Faith perfectly.
“Then, in the name of Christ Jesus, our Lord, I baptise you with water,” Father Gregorio said, and poured the basin over Vanesa’s head, then lifted her up to her feet and embraced her with a laugh. “Well, everyone, I think you can now all finally say…Holy Cow!”
That brought laughter from everyone, and the party continued on, long into the night.
This time, no one complained when Vanesa had a second burger. And a third. She would have had a fourth, but they ran out.
Author’s Note:
The baptism ceremony is somewhat abridged and slightly altered. But, I can promise you that the moment an Enlightened Beast emerged, the Holy See was ready with an edict on how to handle baptising one. They have rites for aliens. No, I’m serious, they do.
La Santa will return in!
FullParagon
2025-10-12 04:40:35 +0000 UTCThatFedoraGuy
2025-10-12 04:34:33 +0000 UTCjacob foti
2025-10-11 23:31:14 +0000 UTC