†
Carlos squeezed his right eye tightly in an attempt to wring away the salty, stinging liquid that blurred his vision. Eerie silence surrounded him. Even the chickadee that offered his disapproval a few moments before was silent or had fled to safety. Carlos held his breath and stood motionless in the middle of the valley. The Reagan Library complex on the hill a mile away seemingly waited to see what would happen next.
Carlos’s ears started ringing and sweat now poured into both of his eyes. “Be still,” he thought to himself. “Don’t move.”
The chestnut mare made no sound. The ringing in his ears raged louder and louder against the nothingness of the wilderness. Even the wind that usually whipped through the valley in late August offered no comfort to him or his horse.
Suddenly the silence was broken by something in the brush behind him. Something he couldn’t quite make out. He opened his stinging eyes.
“Move again,” Carlos whispered. As if by command, the brush moved again. “There,” he said softly. “Come out.” He closed his eyes again. He searched his mind for an image to go along with the faint scraping sound that played tricks on his ears. Silence again.
“Once more,” said Carlos.
Then the scraping began again. The sound came from a position more to his right and behind him, but was more dull and muffled. He suddenly found the image he was looking for inside his head. It was brown like the coastal desert floor. Small. Dangerous.
“But wait,” said Carlos. “There are two.”
Carlos was right. There were two.
†
The door to Colleen and Augie’s room saw more traffic than a Starbucks on a Monday morning.
“Knock knock,” said a raspy voice from the doorway. A woman in her mid-thirties with thick glasses and short dark hair stood with a plastic tray in her hands and waited. “Time for lunch,” she said.
“Oh, thank God,” said Augie. “I’m starving.”
“Me, too,” said Colleen as she shifted her position and elevated the head of her bed. “Somethin’ smells good.”
“Here we are,” the woman said to Augie. “Do you want me to pull your table closer?”
“No, thank you,” replied Augie with a grunt.
Colleen’s stomach growled as she watched the woman slide a tray onto the long table beside Augie’s bed. “Please tell me you have another one of those somewhere,” said Colleen.
“Lunch is served, Miss Caldwell,” Father Francis Jones called from the doorway. He sauntered into the room with a tray in his hands and the smile of a Wal-Mart greeter on his face. Colleen turned and glared at Joan.
The woman that brought Augie’s tray passed by Father Jones on her way out the door and said, “Thank you, Father,” over her shoulder.
“You’re welcome, Ava,” he said and then stepped toward the foot of Colleen’s bed.
Colleen closed her eyes and shook her head. The sides of her jaws tightened as she gritted her teeth. “Beware of priests bearing gifts,” she said with a directness that caught Father Jones by surprise.
“I believe you mean beware of Greeks bearing gifts,” Father Jones replied cautiously.
“No. I don’t,” said Colleen.
“Is this a bad time?” he asked.
Colleen glanced at Augie, who had already disappeared beneath her covers.
“Not at all, Father,” Joan piped in nervously. “We were—”
“Yes,” Colleen interrupted, and then paused as she took in a deep breath before speaking again. “This is a very… bad time.”
Joan’s jaw dropped to the floor and she whipped her head around so fast that Colleen thought it would twist itself off. Colleen tightened her lips and stared directly at Father Jones through squinted eyes. She began to breathe heavily through flared nostrils while Leah busied herself by searching through the large pockets of her scrub top. Leah hoped the awkward pause would pass quickly, but she knew better.
“Leah, would you pull the curtain shut, please?” Augie asked in a low, muffled tone.
“Sure will,” said Leah.
“Oh,” said the priest. “Maybe I should… come back later.”
Another awkward pause filled the room. Colleen saw that Joan was about to speak. “Or not at all,” she spat through her teeth.
Joan was paralyzed. She couldn’t bring herself to turn and look at Father Jones. Instead she stood with her chin to her chest and watched Colleen’s lips turn white and her face turn red.
“Fair enough,” he said meekly and stood dumbfounded with Colleen’s lunch tray.
“That’s what you said the first time,” Colleen sputtered in the same tone. “But here you are.”
The clergyman was taken aback by the elevated tone in the young woman’s voice. Suddenly he felt hot all over. “I thought—”
“You thought wrong,” Colleen interrupted again.
The privacy curtain slid slowly along its rails as Leah pulled the curtain most of the way around Augie’s bed.
“Would you like me to put your lunch on the table?” Father Jones asked submissively.
“That’s not my lunch,” Colleen scolded. “I don’t give a shit what you do with it!”
“Colleen!” Joan belted.
Augie started to sob, which enraged Colleen even more. Adrenaline pushed Morphine aside as it pulsed through her broken, horse-trampled body. Somewhere inside the gorgeous young woman’s body, an invisible “hot button” was punched just a little too hard.
“Colleen, my ass!” shouted the red-faced owner of Triple C Ranch. “I asked you to do one Goddamned thing for me, and you didn’t do it!”
Joan erupted in a sob of tears.
“I’m sor—ry!” Joan bawled. “I couldn’t find him and I didn’t get the chance to tell you!”
Suddenly the lights from the hallway were blocked by someone standing in the doorway. “Everything okay in here?” asked David.
Joan’s shoulders shook as she completely broke down into a mess of sobs, bawls, and incoherent grunts and groans.
“David, would you mind buying Father what’s-his-name here a cup of coffee?” Colleen asked forcefully without breaking her stare from the shocked priest. “I think he could use one.”
“I’d be happy to,” replied David in a deep, commanding voice. “Father?”
Father Jones opened his mouth to say something, but was having difficulty putting together words for a complete sentence. He knew that no matter what he said, it would only make things worse. Tiny beads of perspiration dotted his forehead. “Peace be with you, my child,” was all he could come up with.
Joan turned and dropped the bags into the recliner next to Colleen’s bed. She covered her mouth and sobbed uncontrollably. August Riley joined in a chorus of sobs with her. Father Jones turned and headed quickly out the door, followed closely by Leah. The lunch tray that was originally intended for Colleen made its way back onto the cart, untouched.
David leaned in the doorway, balanced himself on one foot and then pulled the door shut with the same loud thud as before. Colleen heard muffled voices in the hall between Joan’s sobs, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. Her aching chest rose and fell with each adrenaline-filled breath. Augie’s sobs turned to sniffles and Joan held her breath while tears poured from her eyes.
Colleen knew she had to say something before things got really out of hand. She shook her head in disgust at the fact that she reacted the way she did. She knew instantly that she was too harsh on Joan. She couldn’t help it. Something inside her kept pushing and pushing and wouldn’t stop. She felt evil and ashamed. Tears made their way down her cheeks as well. She had to speak.
“Mom,” said Colleen calmly, but got no response.
The metal latch of the door clicked once again and Colleen opened her eyes. She was alone, save for Augie who had shut herself in and isolated herself from the outside world. Joan had left the room before Colleen could say a word.
&nb
sp; †
“I see you,” whispered Carlos with his eyes still closed. “Pass me and I will not hurt you.” The scraping sound behind him to his right stopped, but almost immediately the one to his left started again. “I see you, too. Pass and I will not hurt you.”
Suddenly the scraping stopped. Carlos opened his eyes and the ringing in his ears returned. He stood motionless and struggled to adjust his sweat-filled eyes to the light. “Your answer is the wrong one, my friend.” Carlos said aloud. “Today one of us will die.”
He placed his thumb on the Winchester’s firing hammer and pulled it back as far as it would go. He then squeezed the trigger and eased the hammer back to its original position. The rifle made no sound as he released the trigger, caressed the ribbed hammer with his calloused thumb and thought about his next move.
The ringing grew louder inside his head. He closed his eyes and the grainy flashes of desert landscape danced across his eyelids and then faded. He tried to paint a picture of the scene behind him. He knew that when it came down to brass taxes, which his assistant foreman often misquoted, his survival depended on how accurate he was with the seven-pound, hundred-year-old rifle in his hands.
A wisp of air brought the fragrance of worked leather and sweat from his companion. He opened his eyes again and blinked away the stinging sweat.
“Chick-chick,” Carlos commanded softly.
Ka gave a low nicker in response, but didn’t move an inch.
“Chick-chick,” Carlos repeated.
Ka nickered again a little louder, and then took in a deep breath. She snorted and pawed at the dirt with a dull thud. Small clumps of sand sprayed into the bushes on both sides of the trail.
Suddenly the sound Carlos had been waiting for presented itself loudly.
“Ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka!” both rattlesnakes warned.
“Si,” said Carlos softly. “I see you now.” He closed his eyes once more. Images of the angry, cold-blooded killers came together in his head like a jigsaw puzzle. He listened as both snakes shook their tails furiously at the sweaty chestnut mare. Ka continued her nervous digging at the compacted trail dirt, and the tiny maracas in the middle of the trail grew even louder.
Carlos knew they had the drop on his position, but was sure that Ka would more than make up the difference. Ka was his ace in the hole. Carlos remembered what he was told by his father many times when he was just a boy.
His father’s words echoed in his head. “There is no match for an honest man, a well-trained horse, and a good rifle.” Carlos had all three and the experience of two lifetimes under his straw hat. That was all the edge he needed.
The dull pain of fatigue built in his arms as he became painfully aware that he was still holding the seven-pound rifle in the air in front of him. Salty pools of sweat gathered at the corners of his eyes and waited for their chance to deliver their stinging cargo.
Suddenly one rattler stopped shaking its tail, and Carlos knew what that meant. It meant he was about to move, and if he didn’t act soon, someone would soon have a dangerous elixir coursing through their veins.
“Chick-chick-chick!” Carlos sputtered loudly, his eyes still closed.
Ka whinnied loudly, which signaled her readiness.
“Chick-chick-chick!”
Ka chunked at the dirt with authority and lowered her head, which made the second rattler start in again with a frenzied clatter. Carlos turned his head slightly and honed in on the serpent’s position. The snake had moved further forward, nearly in front of him.
“Bueno,” Carlos whispered softly and opened his eyes.
Ka waited anxiously for the command that would put an end to the disorder in the dusty valley that shared boundaries with the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library, one of the most peaceful places on earth.
†
“You sure know how to bring down a room, don’t you?” Augie asked between sniffles.
“Why did I do that?” Colleen asked as she reached for a tissue.
“Well, let me ask you this: why do you feel like you have to do that?”
“What do you—?”
Augie interrupted and said, “I mean, did you do that because of what I told you about my history with the priest? Or is there something else behind all of that bullshit?”
A long pause followed Augie’s question. Colleen didn’t know what to say, or how to say what she was thinking. “What bullshit?” she finally asked defensively.
“You upset your mother pretty bad,” Augie scolded.
“She’s not my mother,” Colleen sputtered.
“Yes she is, you ungrateful bitch!” Augie shouted, mirroring Colleen’s sudden hostility. “She’s the closest thing you will ever have, and you shit all over her like she’s nobody!”
“I—I—” Colleen stuttered.
“That’s twice I’ve heard you treat your mother like she is some fucking peon!” Augie interrupted again. “My own mother hasn’t said two words to me since… I don’t know how long, and I would kill to have someone cater to me the way that woman caters to you!”
“I—” was still the only sound Colleen could manage.
“You!” Augie shouted. “You need to swallow some of that bullshit pride of yours!”
Colleen’s sniffles turned to sobs. The heavy sledgehammer of rage began to build in her chest. “How… dare… you!” she bawled. “Nobody—”
“Nobody what?” Augie continued, disgusted. “Huh? Nobody talks to you like that? Yeah, I know. Nobody talks to the all-knowing and all-powerful Colleen like that, is that it?”
“No,” Colleen sputtered between choppy breaths and fountains of tears.
“Well I got news for you,” said Augie condescendingly. “I’m not just anybody.”
“I just thought—” Colleen couldn’t finish her sentence.
“You thought wrong! Jesus, what a fucking little princess!” Augie shouted. “I don’t ask nobody for help, especially a one-legged prom queen like you!”
Colleen no longer felt rage. What she felt at that moment was much worse than the sledgehammer of rage. She felt the mountain of shame.
“And besides,” Augie continued. “I’ve had my ass kicked by bastards far bigger than you!”
“I… SUCK!” blurted Colleen.
Augie started to say something even more demeaning, but caught herself. Her ribs ached from yelling, and she felt she had already done more damage than the woman in the bed next to hers deserved. She took a long pause so that they could both breathe.
“Look,” said Augie. “To that woman… you… are her daughter.”
“I know,” Colleen said meekly.
“And her daughter was almost killed yesterday,” Augie added. “You don’t think she’s scared shitless because she almost lost the only daughter she’s ever known?”
“Yeah,” Colleen sniffed. “She’s probably not thinkin’ straight.”
“You bet your ass she’s not thinkin’ straight,” said Augie. “She said she couldn’t find the priest, right?”
“Yeah, but—”
“But shit,” Augie scolded lightly. “She tried and couldn’t find him. That’s hardly her fault, is it?”
“No. It’s just that—”
“It’s just that for some reason, you felt the need to lash out at her like it was her fault. Am I right? Don’t even answer that,” she continued before Colleen could say a word. “Of course I’m right.”
“You’re right,” Colleen said calmly, and then took a deep breath.
“You can repair the damage you did,” said Augie. “I guarantee she will let you.”
“I almost said something after the priest left, but…” Colleen said as she wiped her nose.
“She was already gone,” Augie finished her sentence.
“Yeah,” said Colleen.
“Would you have stayed in the room for more of the same after what you said to her?” Augie reasoned.
“Well… no,” Colleen said and then took a deep breath.
“Even if she had stayed in the room, she didn’t look like she was in any shape to listen to anything you had to say,” said Augie in a tone that was calmer and more soothing than before. “She looked like she was in outer space even before you started in with the yelling.”
“Yeah,” said Colleen as she tilted her head sideways like a confused puppy. “She was…”
“She was all fucked up already.”
“Yeah… all fucked up,” Colleen repeated. Colleen replayed the events in her head. She thought about the look on Joan’s face while Augie was screaming.
“What was that all about?” Colleen asked herself softly.
“What part?” asked Augie.
“Sorry,” said Colleen. “I was just thinking about the look in Mom’s eyes.”
“What did it look like?”
Colleen thought about Augie’s question. “Have you ever seen a snake up close?” Colleen asked.
†
“Ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka!” the rattlesnakes scolded in unison.
Ka pawed at the packed trail one last time and let out a short, nervous whinny as she awaited a command from her master. Carlos took in a long, deep breath and held it for a few seconds. He slowly lowered his chin toward his chest and the puddles of sweat that had gathered in the corners of his eyes dropped to the ground.
“Vamos!” he shouted loudly.
Ka did exactly as she was trained to do. She reared her powerful body into the air and let out a long, high-pitched whinny that sounded like a woman’s scream. Her back feet kicked streams of dirt in front of her, which made both snakes immediately turn their attention away from Carlos.
Carlos quickly flipped the rifle end-for-end so that the barrel pointed straight at his chest. With the speed and accuracy of a professional baseball player, he gripped the end of the barrel with both hands, whipped his upper body around and swung for the fences.
The thick end of the sturdy Winchester bat hit its mark, and the snake’s skull cracked like the sound of a home run at Dodger Stadium. The snake flew through the air and broke into two bloody pieces. The smaller, fatter piece, which Carlos assumed was the head, flew further than the rest of the snake’s body. The rest of the body tumbled through the air and landed in a clump of prickly pear.
Remembering August (Triple C Ranch Saga) Page 22
