The Passions of Santos

Chapter 3

Santos looked around the ghastly dungeon where he was imprisoned. Of all the things that depressed Santos about this place-- the windowless walls, the sticky air, the fetid stench caused by being so close to the underground island sewer system-- the thing that bothered him the most was the color of the room: gray, gray, gray. Not an ounce of color anywhere. Surely, this was how people went completely insane.

As you might recall, Santos and Blanca were recently kidnapped by evil pirates on the not-so-deserted island they had stumbled upon the day before. On their journey towards the dungeon, in which Santos and Blanca were dragged in a fishing net for exactly 146 minutes, Santos overheard the pirates murmuring to each other.

"Argh! We better get good gold for this, one, argh," one pirate said to another. "Look at the buttons on his pants-- he's clearly rich. Argh!"

Santos shook his head as he listened to this nonsense. Neither he nor Blanca knew anyone on this island! Who would pay for their lives?

"I thought pirates were supposed to be smart," Santos whispered to Blanca, which just made Blanca cry more. Not only were these pirates evil, but they were dim-witted too.

The only positive outcome of this ride through the dirt was that along the way, Santos spotted a sign that read, "Welcome to Tigrititi Island!" Finally, he had some sense of where they were. Of course, he had no idea where Tigrititi Island was, but it comforted him to know this land had a name and was not completely uncivilized.

Once they arrived at the dungeon, the pirates threw Santos and Blanca in the most gruesome cell they had available, chained them to the walls, and closed the door.

Which brings us here, now, to the morning after this terrible journey. Santos tried to look on the bright side as he looked around their appalling, gray room; at least the pirates had locked him and Blanca in the same cell, together. But as Santos watched his love rub her wrists and ankles, which were throbbing from the tight chains wrapped around them, his heart broke. This was all his fault. His fancy buttons were the reason they were here after all.

"Oh, my love. Yet again, I wish I were just a simple fisherman. This would never happen if I were not the President of North Ecuaduras."

Santos reached towards her, but his arm was jolted back; he forgot he was chained to a wall. Santos and Blanca were only five feet apart, but because they could not touch, there might as well have been an ocean between them.

Suddenly, the dungeon door opened, and the smallest bit of light peeked through, revealing a measly old pirate.

"Excuse me, Mister Pirate!" Santos said. But the old pirate ignored him as he went about his duties: switching out the chamber pot, checking for secret weapons...

Santos pressed on. "I understand you think I am worth millions. But while that may be true, in terms of both money and intellect, there is no one on this island who knows who I am. We are from a faraway land, do you understand? No one will pay you for our lives."

The old pirate barely heard him as he started to go, leaving behind a plate of stale bread and one small cup of water.

"Stop! Don't leave! This is inhumane!" Santos screamed.

Santos reached for the pirate as the door shut, but he was jolted back by his chains once again. Frustrated, he examined the lock on the tight shackles that held his limbs.

"The lock on these chains is the only thing that stands between us and freedom," Santos said.

"Yes," Blanca said. "That is why they put the lock there."