by Ed Nelson
“I think I will pass on the bus ride. If I go, I will arrange my transportation.”
“Okay.”
It was obvious she had written me off as a Hollywood fake. She knew I was here and would pass the word on to my bosses when they arrived. In the meantime, she suggested that I get out of the way of the working people.
She wasn’t nasty about it, just didn’t have much use for us Hollywood layabouts. So, I left, intending to go back to my luxury suite at the hotel.
“Hey man.”
What's with the Hey man?
“You need to get to work before I fire you on your first day. Get over to the corral behind the barn and help with the branding and vaccinations.”
“Yes sir.”
This could be interesting. Better than sitting in a hotel room counting the flowers on the wall as the song went.
Outback it was controlled pandemonium. It was spring and a lot of calves had dropped. They needed to be branded with the Triple R Bar brand and have a set of vaccinations. This required the calf to be caught, branded, and then fed into a chute where the shot could be administered.
It was evident they were having problems catching the calves. One cowboy was trying to teach the Dudes how to do it. He looked very frustrated.
There were several horses saddled up so I asked the frustrated cowpoke if I could use one.
“Please. This is killing me. I don’t know who are the stupider, the Dudes, or the calves. I always thought calves were smart for their station in life. I don’t know about someone who wanted to be a Dude cowboy.”
It had been a while, but I hadn’t lost the touch. Using a lariat and piggin strings held between my teeth I was able to lasso and tie a calf down the first toss.
I wasn’t setting any timed records doing it, but I wasn’t a disgrace either, taking about eight seconds. This wasn’t worthy of rodeo time, but it was a good working time.
After I had one tied down a Dude would run over with a hot iron and brand the calf. After that, he would untie the string while the rope remained around its neck and I would back my horse up to keep tension on the rope and lead it to the chute for its vaccination.
Doing fifty calves can tire you out. I was a dusty, thirsty mess when we were finished. The real cowboy thanked me for the help and was glad to see the foreman had hired someone who knew what they were doing and weren’t afraid to work.
At that I headed back towards my car, I needed a shower. I was almost there when I heard.
“Hey man.”
Now what?
“We are just checking in, carry these bags to the registration area.”
Now I could explain my role, ignore the guy or carry the bags. I chose to carry the bags. I have a sick sense of humor you know.
He gave me a buck tip for carrying five bags, what a cheapskate.
Chapter 31
I went back to my hotel room, showered, and shaved. My body was tired, I wasn’t used to real work like roping calves.
I lay down on the bed to rest a minute and the next thing you know I had an hour's nap. I flipped through both TV channels and didn’t find anything I wanted to watch.
The brown stained walls and wagon wheel lights may have been top-line western decoration back in the day. Maybe around 1890 or so. I wasn’t going to spend a whole evening here.
I had a good selection of clothes with me but thought it would be wise to keep in the working cowboy mode.
The motel was on the edge of town, but it wasn’t a far walk to the town center as the whole main street was only ten or so blocks long.
It was past five o’clock, so the sidewalks had been rolled up. Not really but all the stores were closed except for one bar. It had a sign saying eats, so I decided to chance it. That or go hungry and I was starving.
Inside the bar, the western motif of brown stained walls and wagon wheel lights was continued. That oddly made sense. How many decorators could this town support? There was the traditional bar with bar stools and about a dozen tables with chairs. Along one wall was a row of booths.
A jukebox was playing “North to Alaska”. Three guys were sitting at the bar, all separately. One couple was in a booth and that was it.
I went up to the bar and sat on a stool. The bartender quickly came over.
“Son, you don’t look like you are twenty-one. You can’t sit at the bar in Texas. Please move to a table.”
“Yes, sir,” as I started to move.
“Will I be allowed to order some food?”
“That we can do.”
I moved over to the closest table and he brought me a menu. After a glance, I ordered a cheeseburger and fries with a Coke. Hard to go wrong with that.
Just because the place smelled of stale beer and cigarette smoke didn’t mean they couldn’t make a mean cheeseburger and fries. They were just what the doctor ordered.
I had just finished my meal and paid when three guys came in. They were dressed like townies. That as opposed to cowboys. They had on khaki pants and polo shirts.
“Hey, look, guys, a cowboy has come to town.”
I wasn’t looking for trouble, so I tipped the brim of my hat and attempted to walk around them. The biggest one of them held out an arm to stop me.
“Guys, I’m not looking for trouble. I just want to go get some sleep.”
“Well, trouble has found you. We tole you, cowboys, to stay out of our bar.”
The bartender spoke up, “No fighting in here, take it outside.”
Well, there went a chance for help. I didn’t see any way out of this so started for the door. My new friends followed me. I had a moment to plan as we headed out.
As soon as I cleared the door, I swung to my right up against the bars on the front window. Now they couldn’t come at me from the back. From the front and two sides were bad enough.
As they came through the doorway, they were bunched up with the big guy front and center of them. The one lesson from unarmed combat I remembered was when you were outnumbered take them out as fast as you can.
I didn’t give any warning or fancy speeches, I just lashed out with my boot into the side of the big guy's knee. As he was going down, he grabbed the guy on his left to try to stay up. This threw that guy off balance.
I used this slight edge to slam a right hook into the right-side guy's nose. This resulted in a gush of blood. I then turned to the big guy, but he was down and holding his knee. He was out of the fight.
I grabbed the front of the shirt of the bloody-nosed guy who was still holding his nose and swung him into the last one standing. This knocked them both off their balance.
A kick to the side of the head settled the last guy down. The bloody nose guy was now coming out of his stun, so I hit him in the solar plexus and then another right as he bent over.
Fight over. Not pretty, not sporting, but I was standing, and they weren’t.
I went back inside the bar and told the bartender, “You’d better call the cops. There's some trash on the sidewalk that needs cleaning up.”
I went back to the hotel to get a night's sleep. I was about to get undressed when there was a pounding on the door. It was the local cop and from the looks of him a hastily deputized bartender.
“This him, Bud?”
“Yep, he's the one that busted your son’s knee cap.”
The cop whose uniform looked like he had spilled his dinner down it had his pistol out. I knew I could take both guys; I mean their bellies hung down over their belts. It would do me no good as it would lead to deeper problems.
I submitted to being handcuffed and placed in the back of a 1951 Crown Vic that must have had one hundred thousand bad miles on it.
I was unloaded and put into the drunk tank. I was told I would be booked in the morning. Thinking what a fine mess this was, I did the only sensible thing and got a night's sleep. I won’t say it was a good night, but at least no one else was in with me.
In the morning after using the hole they called a toilet I was led
out to be fingerprinted and a mug shot taken. I asked if I could make a phone call. I was told that would be later.
Next, I was taken to a small courtroom where a wizened old man in black robes presided.
“Is this the guy Caleb?’
“Yep, Uncle Joe, it’s him that busted up little Joe's knee. I reckon he should do a couple of years hard time as an adult.”
The judge pounded his gavel.
“So be it, two years in the state penitentiary.”
Things weren’t looking too good. I could get lost in the system.
“Your Honor may I have a word.”
An unexpected voice came from the back. This was as good as it gets, John Wayne to the rescue.
“And who are you?”
“Who the hell do you think I am?”
That’s shy and bashful John. The policeman turned and faced John.
“What the hell? Are you, John Wayne?”
“Yes, I am and why are you trying to railroad the lead star in my movie?”
“Huh?”
“Lead Star is what I said, from what I understand from the people that were in the bar three guys jumped Ricky and he took care of them.”
“That’s not what my boy said.”
“Did you talk to the other people?”
“No.”
“Well, I suggest you do, or Rick here is going to own this flea-bitten town for false arrest, though why he would want it I don’t know.”
Suddenly things changed in the courtroom the Judge told the cop to get his facts straight and until then let me go.
I was let go. I had to ask Mr. Wayne how he knew of my problem.
“The cab driver that picked me up at my plane was telling me about the big fight last night. He described you well enough I knew it had to be you.
How did he describe me?
“Real tall, mean-looking SOB.”
I never thought of myself that way. I knew I was tall, but mean-looking?
At the look I had on my face John started laughing.
“What he said was a tall kid who knew unarmed combat. He was a former marine and from what he saw you had that training and then some.”
“He was in a booth with his girlfriend and saw it all. He hates the three guys who are the town bullies so was glad to see them get their comeuppance.”
“Thanks for coming to my rescue, John.”
“No problem, pilgrim,” he drawled.
“I have some other news that might not be so welcome. We’ve had some equipment problems, so we won’t be bringing the rest of the cast and crew down till Friday morning. I’ve got some business in Dallas with the Ewing’s, but you need to decide whether to fly home and back again before Friday or just stay here.”
I told him I would be staying. It looks like I have a job.”
“Doing what,” he asked.
“Well,” I replied. “They thought I was a new hand yesterday and I spent the afternoon roping calves. I enjoyed it, so since I’m stuck, I might as well keep at it.”
He thought that was funny and told me to go for it.
Chapter 32
I returned to my hotel room and took a long hot shower. After that, I packed a bag with three day’s change of clothing and my shaving kit.
I drove out to the ranch. As I thought might happen as I was parking my rental the foreman came up to me.
“Where have you been?”
“You’ll hear about it soon or later; I spent the night in jail.”
“What for?”
“You know the bar that stays open late, well past six o’clock.”
“Ah. You didn’t run into the cop’s son, did you?”
“Yep.”
“You don’t look bad, what did they do, stove up your ribs?”
“No, it was the other way around, Little Joe has a busted-up knee. His friends got off with a bloody nose and probably each of them has a slight concussion.”
“Well, hot damn, they have been giving the guys here a tough time, I’m glad to see them get what they deserve. In the meantime, I have a different job for you today.”
“What’s that?”
“The Dudes expect us to break our horses the old fashion way by riding them till they stop bucking. We keep a few incorrigible horses that have been retired from the rodeo circuit to show off. Since you’re the new guy and seem fit, you get to ride them today.”
“I get to ride rodeo bucking broncos, that won’t let anyone ride them and pretend I’m breaking them?”
“Yeah, you only must do two in the morning, and two in the afternoon. That way all the Dudes get to see a show.”
“Did you tell me how much I’m getting paid?”
“The same fifty a week, as the other guys, they all have paid their dues.”
“Okay boss. What time do I start?”
“If you head on over to the corral it will be just about right.”
I went over to one of the corrals behind the barns where a crowd was gathering. One of the older cowboys waved me over.
“You do any rodeo riding?”
“Not horses.”
“If you can stay on board for eight seconds you are good. We tell the crowd that the horse needs to be ridden like that multiple times for them to get the message. Some horses take longer than others. Why Diablo has been ridden hundreds of times and still don’t get it.”
I could see this was going to be a tough day. He took me over and showed me the equipment, the saddle had free swinging stirrups and no horn. The horse would have a leather halter attached to a cotton braided rein.
The old cowboy told me to find a rhythm by spurring forwards and backward with my feet in a sweeping motion from should flank. This part I got from bull riding.
They had Diablo in a chute. As I got up on the rail, I swear the horse turned and winked at me as if he were in on the deception.
The cowboy turned to me and asked, “What's your name son?”
“Rick Jackson.”
He then stood high on the rail and told the crowd, “Old Diablo is going to be saddle broke today by none other than our own Rick Jackson.”
I was handed a pair of leather gloves and I wound the reins tight around my left hand. I hoped I made it past the first buck.
Then just like that Diablo exploded out the chute. He went high and came down stiff-legged which was a new one on me, thankfully I was braced well and hung on.
After that, it was the more traditional bucking. I got lucky and fell into his rhythm quickly. He bounced me around up and down. I hung on like crazy while swinging my right arm up and down to keep my balance.
After about a year of this a horn sounded and another rider came up beside Diablo and I grabbed the rider and jumped to the ground. I had lasted eight whole seconds on the horse!
My cowboy mentor came up and handed me my hat which had gone flying.
“Not bad, you would have been disqualified in the rodeo but not a bad ride at all.”
“Why would I have been disqualified?” I knew full well why but was keeping to my image.
“Your hat came off.”
“What.”
“Yeah, the sissy’s today pin or glue their hats on, so they don’t lose them. It’s an image thing.”
“I saw Bill Pickett when I was a kid. Now he lost his hat every time, but it didn’t hurt his image none.”
No, I thought, anyone willing to bulldog a bull by biting its lip wouldn’t have an image problem.
Anyway, I dusted myself and waved to the crowd. That cute blonde from yesterday was upfront and waved back. I wondered if she would like to take a walk and look at the stars tonight.
In half an hour I had to do it again. This horse was well on its way to being broken because it was bucking at first then ran a few circles around the corral and stopped.
My spokesman told the crowd, “Rick’s been working with this horse for a while, and he is about ready for regular ranch work. If you’re lucky maybe one of you Dudes will get him tomorrow!�
��
When the iron triangle started ringing for lunch, I was first in line. I was starving. By accident, I’m sure the blonde girl was right behind me, so it was natural that Karen and I ate together.
I found out that she was a senior in high school and that this week was their spring break. She didn’t want to come here but her parents insisted. Now it didn’t look so bad.
I managed not to say much about myself, by showing interest in her. That worked well. Getting my nerve up I asked her if she would like to take a walk tonight to watch the stars.
She giggled and asked if that was the western version of submarine races. I admitted it was.
As she was staying in a cabin with her parents, she would need permission to be out with some of the other kids.
We went our separate ways after lunch. The foreman hunted me up and told me I did a good job riding today. I should consider rodeo riding. That was when he glanced down at my belt buckle.
“I may have spoken too soon. This isn’t your first rodeo, is it?”
“No sir.”
“Well good job. Now I have to say something not so good. We don’t mix cowboys with Dude girl., Bad for business, you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
Damn! I had a choice, to tell him who I was or not to go walking with Karen. That was an easy decision.
“If I was one of your cowboys, I wouldn’t go walking with any of the girls, but I’m not on your payroll.”
“Tarnation boy, what are you telling me.”
I held out my hand to shake and said, “Let's start over I’m Rick Jackson I’m in the movie that starts filming here on Friday.”
He got red-faced then started laughing.
“You’re one of those actor fellows that Miss Nellie in the office says are all hat and no cattle.”
“That’s me.”
“This is wonderful. That old biddy thinks she knows everything.”
“I didn’t defend my title, but I was the world champion bull rider in the youth division several years ago. That is where this buckle came from.”
The foreman settled down from his laughing. He got a funny look on his face.
“My wife reads all those scandalous newspapers and magazines, and now I know why you look familiar. I’m going to look you up tonight while you are out walking.”
