Your Time Is Coming: The Constrictor vs. La Meako

Ray Gotti walks into The Constrictor’s room, his hair dragging against the top of the doorframe before springing back. Inside, the mostly-bare walls are obscured by a variety of leafy potted plants, giving the room a jungle-like feel. The room bustles with activity: The Constrictor watches from his perch atop a chair as several workmen wrestle a large circular something toward the back wall. Gotti frowns as he studies it.

“What’s that? Dis is what you blow your money on? Man, I’m payin’ you too much. Remind me to re-negotiate your contract.”

The dark-skinned man doesn’t turn, but hoots at Gotti as he supervises. The workmen rotate the disk between them, exposing its painted face. A deep green paint forms the base, but much of that is covered with stylized figures in gold, red, orange, and other earth tones arranged in concentric circles.

“A calendar? Fuggedaboutit—you’ve already got a calendar, over there.”

Gotti points to a now-bare spot on the wall, blinking in puzzlement. Finally he shakes his head and turns to leave.

“I don’t know how you can even tell what day it is with that thing. There ain’t even no numbers on it. Do whatcha gonna do, though, I guess.”

The Constrictor hops down as Gotti leaves and the workmen release their grasp on the calendar and step back. As they too file out, he begins running his finger over the circles, his expression intent.

His finger stops over the stylized figure of a jaguar.

B’alam— the jaguar.

The Constrictor pauses, his finger still hovering over the image on the calendar.

I don’t know yet what it means, but I know one thing- your time is coming, La Meako.

He turns and walks away, a thoughtful expression on his face.