Jaguar's Mirror

Excerpts from Chapter 1 of Jaguar’s Mirror, by M. A. Mogus (2006) November 1, 1519 A thick, choking fog shrouded the small depression where two men and one woman stood talking. Waves died against the dried stalks of weeds lining the shoreline of the lake. Hidden by the mist, the city of Tenochtitlan with its massive temples and palaces was a dark shadow, menacing and cold, as it hovered in the background blotting out the rising sun. “You made a deal with us.” Hazen roughly shook his mass of red hair and glared at the short, bow-legged man before him. “Keep your part of the bargain or I’ll have you removed.” The clipped order sent chills through Cortez. He had grown to hate and fear those allies. Now he dared to break off his agreement with them, if such were possible. They had come to him secretly as he marched to the Mexica capitol and had offered him their support in his conquest of Anahuac, as the Mexica called their land. In return for finding some ancient book and a single precious stone, they would give him power. Whatever else he found would be his. But what had seemed so simple on that march had now become a nightmare. “We made no deal,” Cortez insisted, nervously clutching the hilt of his sheathed sword. His eyes strayed to the strange black uniform Hazen wore. The front had an inverted red triangle whose apex began at the waist and whose base reached across the shoulders. On the left side of the uniform was a black disk, as if a metallic solar eclipse had been ripped from the sky and stitched to the triangle. The uniform should have told him he fronted demons, Cortez thought. But lust for fame and fortune had easily brushed aside doubts. “Oh, but a deal was made,” Hazen reminded Cortez. “You agreed to my terms. You accepted my help.” “What help? I have lost men and horses in these accursed waters while you did nothing, while you yet do nothing?” Cortez remembered what was whispered among his Mexica captives about his bargain with the demons called the Dark Suns. “I gave you the advice you needed to get this far,” Hazen maintained. “You took it and you have succeeded. Now the patterns of history move again to our will.” “Indeed? My informants tell me the tribes to the North are sending aid.” Cortez was rewarded by a startled look on Hazen's face. “You said nothing about these tribes in your advice to me. Now what you claim was a bargain is so no longer.” Hazen scowled, his lips twitched. “No one breaks their promise to us.” He motioned to the woman. She nodded, the action revealing the silver highlights in her hair in the mist that caressed skin almost as dark as the uniform she wore. Cortez glanced at her and she returned his stare, lifting her chin in an act of superiority Cortez found amusing. She was young and pretty, but he knew that she was only a woman. “I made no real bargain with you,” Cortez equivocated. “I have my soul to think of. Never would I bargain with you demons. My men are in danger and I have no more time for this nonsense of a hidden treasure. I have found all the treasure there is in this city.” Hazen laughed. “Your soul should’ve been on your mind when the bargain was struck, not now. As for treasure, you think only of gold. What a fool you are.” Cortez spat, turned, and took two paces away from Hazen. The woman caught up to Cortez in a few quick steps. She brushed her hand against his neck in a sensuous gesture, but he paid no attention to her movements. He barely felt the prick on his skin, but he felt the sudden bite of the poison eating through his bloodstream. His limbs grew icy and leaden and he began to stagger. His body would no longer obey his command as he fell onto the cold, muddy bank. Hazen moved and turned him face-up. “Behold,” he ordered and pointed toward a spot several yards away. Cortez’s eyes stared, forcing his mind to watch the air turn opaque, then transparent. A hemisphere outlined in blood red ripped apart the early morning air. When the opening stabilized, a stranger stepped through and looked around. Fear churned in his mind even as Cortez felt his heartbeat slowing. He was certain now that Hazen and the others were demons. Not only had they opened a gateway to hell, they had summoned someone through it. The new arrival was a man dressed in a leather tunic, metal armor, hose, and boots. The man walked to Hazen and acknowledged him by removing the helmet that concealed his face. Turning toward the dying Cortez at his feet, he spoke. “This is the man I am to replace?” Cortez could not answer. He merely stared at the stranger who was his double even to the clothing he wore. His lucidity faded, his heart stilled. But before his breath ceased, Cortez marveled at the alchemy that had allowed Hazen to create his identical twin. Cortez knew he should have kept to the bargain. He should have found the Jewel. Excerpts from The Phantom Detectives, Greensburg Writers Group (2006)

Who Killed General Braddock?

“Who Killed General Braddock?” by Mary Ann Mogus Detective Brendan Manelli smiled like a wolf about to eat his prey. Only Brendan’s smile was slightly crooked and way too apologetic. “You’ll recognize this cold case, Laconia. After all, you were personally involved.” “There was only one case in which I was personally involved. It happened a few years back. I was involved in a crazy incident concerning the murder of a re-enactor during the filming of a movie for public broadcast. No one blamed me for General Braddock’s murder except his wife, Julia Simmons, but she was such a bitch in any case. Carl Simmons, playing the part of General Braddock, was shot while walking across the Youghiogheny River Bridge near Connellsville. Why was it my fault? I was supposed to drive him across in my Hummer. Instead I took George Washington and two Wyandot Indians, Paul and Mark Hardcastle, out for pizza. I mean, who could resist George, or rather, Jim Stevens. Jim was a six-foot-three well-built, handsome man in colonial clothing, with dark hair, dark eyes, and all his teeth. Not to mention Paul and Mark, clad only in loincloths and body paint. They graciously draped my back seat with a blanket to keep their body paint off my seat covers. People will do anything for a pizza and beer on a hot June day. I drove them across the river instead of driving Braddock, and he was murdered shortly afterwards.” “This could be considered a really cold case depending on how you view it. What are the facts concerning the murder?” Laslo Flannahan asked. “By the way, Laconia, you’ve held up well since the French and Indian War.”

Sweets from West Overton’s Kitchen

Linda’s Recipe for Chocolate Truffle Cookies from Sweets from West Overton’s Kitchen (2003) 1 ¼ cups of margarine 2 ¼ cups of powdered sugar 1/3 cup of cocoa¼ cup of sour cream 1 tablespoon vanilla 2 ½ cups of flour 2 cups of chocolate chips ¼ cups chocolate sprinkles Cream together margarine, sugar and cocoa until light and fluffy. Beat in sour cream and vanilla. Add the flour and mix well. Stir in the chocolate chips and chill the dough for one hour. Remove from the refrigerator and roll dough into 1 inch balls. Dip in chocolate sprinkles and place sprinkle side up on ungreased baking sheet. Bake at 3250 for 10 minutes.

Walworth: “Valves and Fittings for all Services”

Excerpts from Walworth: “Valves and Fittings for all Services” by M. A. Mogus, Westmoreland History (2004) Contact Westmoreland County Historical Society, for copies of this journal. Each August former Walworth employees gather for an annual reunion at Mammoth Park in Westmoreland County. They gather to remember a time when manufacturing industries flourished in Westmoreland County, and Walworth made some of the finest valves and fittings in the world. Walworth, founded in 1842 in Boston, needed an iron foundry to provide the metal for their valves. In 1925 Walworth bought the Kelly and Jones plant located south of Greensburg for their foundry. When Walworth acquired Kelly and Jones they also inherited the first reinforced concrete building in the world built using the window-wall method. The building was designed and built by Earnest Rutherford and his firm at the request of Kelly and Jones in 1903-1904. This building form allowed the use of a large number of windows increasing the ambient lighting for a factory. It was the long three story building that lined Route 119. Around 1906 an extension along Huff Avenue was constructed using the same method. Walworth housed the Malleable Union Department in this building. Walworth manufactured iron valves at this plant until the early 1930’s when Walworth began producing Sigma Steel valves, the first carbon-steel and carbon-moly (molybdenum) valves. The plant flourished, employing around 3,800 people, one of the largest industrial employers in the county.

Other publications by M. A. Mogus

Other publications by M. A. Mogus Mogus, M. A. and Grant Gerlich (2005) “The Great Whiskey Trail” Westmoreland History, vol. 10, p.20, a study of the history of Old Farm Rye and Old Overholt original products of Overholt Distilleries. Photos are included in this article. Mogus, M. A. (2005) “Cold Iron” Loyalhanna Review 2005, Ligonier Valley Writers, Ligonier, PA. Never excavate a site when you don’t know what to expect. Mogus, M. A. (2005) “Squirrel Daze”, Focus Magazine, Tribune Review, May 15. Just when you thought it was safe to plant tulip bulbs.