Read The Long Day of Revenge for Free Online Page B

switched drivers various times, but the journey was not a pleasant one, made even more uneasy by what had happened during the training session beforehand.
    When Manolo took his turn at the wheel, Lucinda slept in the passenger seat, but she seemed to be having bad dreams. Perhaps she saw herself still being spanked.
    Hermosillo was the capitol of Sonora and vastly different from Agua Prieta. Far larger, far more cosmopolitan, and far more intimidating, it was considered the gem of the entire state. The Manzano ranch was located at the outskirts of the city, and while this metropolis had no bullring, it did have a reputation for housing a ranch breeding the best bulls in Mexico.
    The trip was a bizarre one and it seemed to take forever, but at long last they fought their way through Hermosillo’s downtown and into the countryside.
    Manolo was the one who drove as they wheeled into the Manzano ranch just outside the city, and all the formalities took place. There were to be the introductions, the common cordialities, and finally the tienta itself.
    Don Eliseo Manzano had inherited the ranch from his father, who had inherited it from his uncle, who founded the herd.
    The grounds looked like Manolo had anticipated, right up to the main gate with the ranch’s brand, a gigantic M, located on the iron entranceway. There was the massive family house, worker headquarters, and a huge dining hall with walls covered in bullfighting memorabilia. Here, the heads of bulls that made the Manzano name famous hung with glass eyes and menacing horns. Don Eliseo took pride in giving a guided tour.
    “This is Brujo,” he announced as he pointed to the head of a large black animal, looking as ferocious in death as it must have in life. “This is the bull that killed Mario Martinez in Mexico City in 1946. The poor matador took a goring in the lung, and that was the end of things for him.”
    “This is Comanche, who was fought by Gerardo Ruiz and together they made history. Ruiz cut the ears and tail from this animal and left on the shoulders of the crowd. This took place in San Luis Rio Colorado in 1958, and people still consider it the greatest showing ever in that town.”
    “This is the head of Gigante, who killed Pipo in Aguascalientes in 1941.”
    Aside from the stuffed heads of notable animals were framed photos, old posters, and other relics from long gone days, reviving the glory of the Manzano ranch. All of the greats from the past and present had faced the Manzano bulls. Procuna, Fernando De La Torre, Joselito Mendez, Cordobes, Manolete, Dominguin, Arruza, Silveti. Some had succeeded and others had failed, but to confront these monsters was a true test of manhood.
    “But enough,” Don Eliseo said with a flamboyant gesture. “On to the testing.”
    These activities took place in a small bullring on the Manzano property. There was a section of bleachers where Eliseo Manzano sat, along with his ranch bookkeeper, who would make notations upon the showings of each young animal. There were others, too. Reporters, managers, and the long retired matador, Vicente Moreno, who sat next to the bull breeder on high.
    Looking up at them from his position on the sand, Manolo could not help but make fun of them.
    “Two old buzzards watching young bulls,” he whispered.
    Lucinda was there also, seated next to Manzano’s wife, who would explain the situation to her as things progressed. She looked like a motherly type, and in his mind, he envisioned her giving Lucinda a spanking on that luscious bare bottom of hers, just as he had done. While the business at hand was serious, little snippets like that kept the tension from being unbearable.
    Standing behind a wooden barrier, Manolo wore not the glittering suit of lights as in a professional bullfight, though he did in fact own one. He wore a cloth cap, pulled down close to his eyes, dark pants, and a white long sleeved shirt. The others dressed accordingly as well, so except for slight