Tumbleweed Logic

by ZaneDoe

Charlie and Jose shared a bit of rye but even the rye couldn’t diminish the aching Jose was enduring from hours of rocking and bouncing on the hard wood seat. He felt like he was stuck on one of Charlie’s old steel carnival rides, praying for it to be over. Charlie sought an adequate place to pull over to rest the mules for the night and set up camp. Though Jose thought his chosen spot was too close to the road, he had no desire to ride any longer in search a better location therefore kept his observations to himself.

  “Charlie, you must have an ass of steal,” Jose exclaimed as he descended from the wagon.

  “You get used to it; you get used to most things in life, even grow to like it.”

  “Well, I’ll miss ya when you ride off, Charlie, but my ass won’t.”

  “Geezus Jose, don’t be saying shit like that, somebody hears that, my lord.…”

  They settled in for a quick cold, straight-from-the-jars dinner.

  Everyone was eager for Jose’s return but fully aware of the speed of Charlie’s travels. On Scout’s advice, they refrained from driving out to pluck Jose from Charlie’s wagon and get him home faster in a more comfortable vehicle. Scout told them not to waste their time since she knew that Jose wanted to ride all the way back with Charlie.

  Scout spent the day enjoying Broken Arrow and thanking those who helped take care of Pepper and those who extended themselves to participate in the search party. She was surprised, in light of Jose’s characterization of Tom, that he had joined the search. When she spotted Tom trying to knock something out of a tree with a rake handle, she made her way over to thank him.

  “Tom,” she said apprehensively. He turned to face her but said nothing. “I wanted to thank you for helping out with the search party; I really appreciate it.”

  He looked directly into her eyes, just for a second, nodded then turned away. Words came forth that she hadn’t intended. “I’m sorry about your brother,” she said in a near whisper. Tom continued as if he hadn’t heard her, as if she were not there. “My best friend was murdered and her killer is free.” Scout finished. A knot twisted in her stomach. She may have felt a certain bond with Tom due to their shared experience but it was doubtful he would feel the same. “Well, I just wanted to thank you. Jose told me a little about your brother and I wanted to say I was really sorry, that’s all.” She paused. “Okay, I’ll leave you be.”

  “Why is he free?” His voice was gentle, at least compared to what she had expected. He stood erect with both hands wrapped around the rake handle looking at Scout. Then he looked past her, past Scout to the approaching Burt. Burt’s chatter was often unwelcome and it was particularly unwelcome by Scout at that moment. Tom turned back around and continued to try to remove a stuck golf club out of the tree.

  “Scout!” hollered Burt.

  She took a deep breath with wide eyes and turned to respond.

  “Scout, Lila would like to speak with you.” It was apparent Burt had had his coffee. “Have you eaten yet? Where’s Pepper? Ya got him tied up or does Penny have him. She’d keep that dog if you’d let her….” Scout walked alongside Burt back to the office, Burt chattering the entire way. Lila wanted to talk to Scout in private while the office crowd was buzzing over a planned welcome home party for Jose. Before Lila could say much, Martha, Bella and Mary burst into the office full of excitement, demanding that Lila and Scout come at once to see Jose’s RV.

  With their craft skills and a few donations, the three cleaned and redecorated Jose's metal home. They whisked Lila and Scout out of the office; they “just had to” see the finished product, the works of love for the campground hero. Jose was a hero, he saved Scout from the carjacker; he deserved a hero’s welcome and due reward from those who loved and appreciated him. Scout had never been in Jose’s RV but she had the accurate suspicion it did not look like this before the thoughtful women got to it--immaculate and with ruffles. The windows donned ruffled country curtains in a manly dark green. A crocheted version of an Indian dream catcher hung from the wall in powder blue. A large Aztec design wall piece hung on another wall. A bowl of hard candy and a bouquet of artificial flowers stuffed into a plastic vase sat on the little kitchen table. On Jose’s bed lie a folded quilt of pastel colors and a thick cotton bathrobe just waiting for Jose to relax in. Scout smiled, partly from the heartwarming efforts of these women and partly from imagining Jose within the décor. She looked over at Lila, who had an appreciative smile that was successfully holding back a laugh.

  “You guys did a lot of work in here; he’s going to really appreciate this. It looks so, comfortable,” Scout said to the proud women.

  “Come see the bathroom, Scout.” Mary waved her over.

  The tiny bathroom was well groomed. There, on the back of the toilet, sat a hand crocheted toilet paper cozy in the shape of a teepee. Scout had heard of them but had never actually seen one, so she had to ask to be certain, “Is that to cover the toilet paper?”

  “Yes, it’s called a toilet paper cozy or cover for your spare toilet paper. Cute isn’t it? Martha made it. Pretty blue.”

  Eric stuck his head inside the door to look around. “Nice,” he commented and left.

  The ladies were hungry for Jose’s approval. They worked fast and hard at their labor of love to make sure it was ready when Jose arrived.

  Scout and Lila walked back into the office leaving the three women to fuss over last minute details. Burt and George waited in the office to take everybody to Elena’s. The talk with Lila would have to wait. They climbed into the cars and were off, passing Lester on the main street. They honked and waved.

  "I bet he’s buying new clothes for his date,” said Martha as she stared at Lester heading to the western clothing store.

  “Why waste the money; they never go out with him more than once. He could wear the same clothes every date,” Mary added with a touch of annoyance.

  Burt added his two cents, which turned into twenty dollars. “If Lester would just learn to stay off the goddamned dead bodies he could get a second date. He’s damned morbid. Who wants to hear someone talk on and on….“

  Eyes rolled and they listened to Burt without a break until they pulled in and parked at the front of Elena’s.

  That evening when the campground was quiet, the closed sign was hung on the office door and most were tucked away in their metal homes asleep, Scout saw a tiny light glowing through the window of the old Airstream. She doubted Lila would answer but she got up her nerve and knocked on the door anyway. Much to Scout’s surprise, the door opened and Lila looked delighted to see her.

  “Thank you for coming, Scout,” Lila said and opened the door wider. The inside was untarnished, as if new, and had the feel of another era.

  “I wanted to talk to you in private, I guess you know that. Thanks for stopping by. Please sit down.” Lila offered her a seat.

  “It can be a challenge for you to have your privacy it seems.” Scout sat down at the table.

  “Can be damn near impossible.”

  Lila made some small talk about the campground and its residents and reflected back to how it came into existence in the first place. Scout eagerly listened to the birth of Broken Arrow: Lila and her late husband purchased the land and decided to camp out on the property for a couple of weeks. During those two weeks, they had a steady flow of travelers asking to camp out for the night next to them. They saw the need and potential. One thing led to another and Broken Arrow was born, named after a broken arrow her husband dug up on the property and viewed as a good omen of peace and prosperity.

  “Scout, are you going to stay with us?” Lila asked.

  She felt a slight change in Lila’s voice, more serious. “Do you mean will I be going back to California?”

  “Yes. Do you plan on heading back to California soon?”

  “Are you running out of spaces?”

  Lila laughed lightly. “Of course not. Dear lady, you have a place here for as long as you want.” She placed her hand on Scout�
��s, gently patting it.

  “Thank you but why do I get the feeling you are really asking me something else?”

  “Oh, probably because I am. It’s a delicate subject.”

  “You can come right out with me, whatever it is.” She smiled hoping Lila would feel at ease getting straight to her point.

  Lila returned the smile and asked, “I imagine you and Jose became friends, or at least friendly?”

  “Yes. He saved me from the whacked kid. I’ll always be grateful to Jose.”

  “Jose is a wonderful person if you have the pleasure of getting to know him.”

  “I agree. I did have the pleasure of getting to know him. The circumstances kind of required it. He is a wonderful person.”

  “Jose’s wife, ex-wife, came to the office looking for him while he was gone,” Lila informed, then paused.

  Scout decided to refrain from commenting until she got an idea where Lila was going with the conversation.

  “The people in the office just loved telling her they didn’t know where he was. No one here thinks much of her, as I am sure you have gathered by now. She has no appreciation for Jose, his kind nature. All that man has endured in life.” She paused again. Scout remained silent. “They have been divorced for many years and separated for many before that. She has a mean spirit; after all this time she finds reasons to show up and give Jose one kind of hell or the other. I would ban her from the campground if I thought it would help.”

  Scout sat steady and listened, watching Lila meander into the reason she wanted to speak with her in private.

  “Jose is quiet, maybe defensive at times but he’s not mean and he has a huge heart with a couple of holes shot through it. You may know that by now.”

  Scout had indeed experienced the quiet Jose, the quite rude Jose and the quite entertaining Jose. She wondered what Lila was working up to.

  Lila folded her hands on the table. She continue to talk about the troubles Jose had with his wife, about him being an unappreciated veteran of an unpopular war and about his self-imposed seclusion--the reason he stayed at Broken Arrow.

  “I know there is something you are getting at, Lila. I’m ready, just hit me with it.” She hoped she hadn’t offended Lila with her blunt interruption.

  “Jose’s heart is carefully guarded for a reason. Do you understand?”

  “No, I really don’t understand. If you are saying Jose’s heart is fragile, I understand that, most hearts are pretty fragile but I can’t say I understand what you’re getting at. Is someone trying to hurt him? Can I help?”

  “I saw that Jose was drawn to you. The silly banter, well, it is Jose’s way. From Bowzer’s comments, I believe Jose has opened his heart to you and I am concerned for Jose. I’m worried. He opens his heart and you leave.”

  “You’re worried I’m going to hurt him by leaving to California?” Scout asked fully aware of Lila’s maternal concern for Jose.

  “Of course,” Lila answered softly.

  “Jose is so loved here. He is a lucky man.”

  Lila waited for Scout to say more.

  “I care about Jose a great deal. I don’t know what is going to happen but I can assure you, I have no intention of hurting him in any way. We talked about everything, about my journey from and back home.” They had spoken about most everything except their relationship. “I had a crash course in the Jose everybody loves. I respect who he is, Lila. I think no matter what happens we will always remain friends. We can’t be a date that’s gone bad after all this.” She lifted her eyebrows and smiled. “I appreciate your concern, your love for him. Don’t worry, Lila; I think Jose understands me quite well, he’s not going to be hurt by me.” She got a bit tongue-tied. “Just know, the last thing I would want to do is hurt Jose in any way. I am very grateful to Jose for many reasons. You really don’t need to worry.”

  “I do love him like a son.”

  “You know, you may not be too pleased but what if Jose wants to visit Monterey?”

  “That would be very good for him, Scout, very good. You may want to pose that to him. We would miss him dearly but he may have more of a life out there than here.”

  “It really is a wonderful place. I told him about it.”

  “I’ve been there, dear. It might be the best thing for him. He deserves to be back in the world, a world other than here. He’s young. Take him with you.” She smiled. Lila was satisfied and cheerfully changed the subject. “So, Scout, how has Jose fared through the adventure?”

  Scout relayed bits and pieces of the humorous side of their time away. Lila loved the clown suit story and Scout promised to share the photograph once developed. They easily spent another hour talking; Scout found Lila endlessly fascinating.

  Word traveled quickly alerting Broken Arrow that Charlie’s wagon was a few miles out of town. Mary and Martha made the decorative adjustments they deemed necessary to Jose’s RV. George began washing out the coffeepot in the office to prepare for their arrival. Burt interrupted.

  “George, my God, they’re in Charlie’s wagon with those mules as slow as slugs. That coffee will look like molasses by the time they get here….”

  George was only prepping but he let Burt carry on until Bella quieted him by entering the office.

  “Why don’t you go out there and get Jose, Burt?” Bella was enthusiastic.

  “No, Scout said he wanted to ride all the way in with Charlie so let him do what he wants,” George firmly interjected.

  “That’s true, Bella. That’s what Scout said Jose wanted to do.” Martha agreed, always one to respect Jose’s wishes.

  John walked into the office, oxygen tank in tow. Bobby’s watchful eyes followed his every move from their trailer window.

  “Mail’s not here yet, John.” Marianne informed with a tone of satisfaction from the thought she might disappoint John.

  John growled back, “I’m not here for the goddamned mail, Marianne. Go back to reading your magazine, that’s what they pay you for isn’t it?” annoyed by what he deemed a completely worthless employee.

  “Did you need something, John?” Martha asked, friendly, concerned.

  “I heard Jose was on his way. Where the hell is he now?”

  Burt was quick to answer. “Well, he’s coming a long way and he’s on Charlie’s wagon so who knows how long it’s going to take for Jose to get to the campground. You figure those mules must only go---“

  “Oh shut up. I came in here to find out where he was, not to listen to you ramble.” Everyone assumed John’s lack of oxygen caused him to be short tempered and gave him a wide berth for his rudeness.

  “If you didn’t have those tubes up your nose, John, you’d have my fist there,” Burt shot back after a few seconds of silence. The comment surprised everybody in the room including Bella. Burt had had enough.

  “Would you now?” John replied and actually smiled. “Don’t let these little tubes stop you, come on Burt, get your fists out of your pockets and give it a try.”

  “Oh boys, stop it!” Bella stomped her foot.

  The two postured a bit. John got off the last shot. “Aaaah, go back to your tea time with the women.” He exited the back door, his tank thumping over the ramp boards.

  “Women?” Ralph laughed. “Look at that woman John goes home to.”

  “Is that a woman?” Penny asked Ralph and everyone quieted for his response.

  “We think so, Penny,” Martha answered.

  “That ain’t a woman?” Ralph was now asking the question.

  “I thought he, or she I guess now, was John’s brother. That’s a woman? Could have fooled me.” George shook his head.

  “We really don’t know.” Bella added. “He could be a she, or she a he. We don’t know and no one is going to ask John.”

  “And live to tell about it.” George laughed.

  “Maybe John’s gay and Bobby’s a man, his lover.” Jarred had stepped into the office and joined in.
<
br />   “No one knows for sure,” George commented. “Wanna ask John, Penny? We’d all like to know but we have to live with him; you’re taking off so you can ask.” He looked around at everyone in the office. “The million-dollar question. Anyone wanna take bets?”

  “Ten dollars it’s a woman,” Ralph was ready to take him up on it.

  The betting idea caught on fast with the folks in the office, all expecting Penny to determine the winners. George took down the names, amounts and checked male or female.

  “I think Bobby is a she. I think she just got too much sun. Sun will age your skin. You should always wear sunscreen and a hat,” Martha chimed in then placed her bet. “Five dollars Bobby’s a she.”

  “Sun? Too much John ‘ll do that to a person. He could put anyone in an early grave. Twenty bucks it’s a woman.” George was busy writing.

  “Place your bets or not, I’m not asking,” Penny proclaimed and put herself down for ten dollars on Bobby being a man.

  The conversation slowly made its way back to Jose’s arrival.

  Like a one-float parade, Charlie’s wagon rocked and creaked its way into the campground to the awaiting crowd. Jose and Charlie waved with flat palms like beauty queens. The beloved son of Broken Arrow was home safe.

  The crowd arrived at Charlie’s usual camping spot alongside him, eager and welcoming. Charlie only basked in the warm welcome a few minutes then went about releasing his mules. Jose found himself surrounded in hugs, handshakes and welcome-home kisses. He was beaming. Scout watched in the background, deeply touched by the scene. Between hugs, Jose made eye contact and there was no doubt in Scout’s mind what had been awakened by the lake was still breathing.

  Tom had stacked bales of hay for Charlie’s mules as Lila instructed. When he approached the wagon with a bucket of molasses soaked grain with Wiggie trotting alongside him, the mules caught the scent and charged. Tom tossed the bucket and got out of their way as fast as he could. Wiggie was like metal to a high-powered magnet, reaching the spilled grain before the mules and letting them know that she was not fond of sharing.

  Woody wasted no time getting to Broken Arrow. He needed to finish his report by interviewing Jose. Before Jose would speak with Woody, he wanted a word with Scout.

  “Happy to be back?” Jose asked.

  “Yes and no. How’s your backside faring?”

  Jose moaned.

  “So, Woody wants to talk to me. Anything you don’t want me to say?”

  “I told him about everything.”

  “Everything?”

  “Everything.”

  “How are you?” Jose asked before leaving her side.

  “Well, just look.” She smiled. “A shower. No more spotted long johns. Shoes. And I have been eating identifiable food stuff.”

  “Good to see you.” He leaned forward and kissed Scout on the cheek, with a flock of witnesses looking on.

  “We have an audience,” Scout whispered. Jose shot back the biggest smile she had seen on his face yet. He was both amused and overjoyed about life at that moment--how could one not be, he was surrounded by more love at that moment than some will experience in a lifetime.

  Lila offered the showers and some of her late husband’s clothing to Charlie. He surprisingly accepted, which eliciting muffled laughs from the others. Lila’s late husband certainly donned a different style than Charlie.

  “Let’s barbecue!”

  “Now that’s a good idea, George.”

  All agreed and went about getting ready for the feast. By the time Jose returned, the coals were hot and ready to do their job. There before him, on Bella’s denim tablecloth, was a feast for the starving guest of honor.

  “I can stuff it into jars if it will make you more comfortable,” Scout whispered from behind.

  Jose hardly had time to finish a dish and Mary was signaling Scout to get him to his RV. The three lined up outside, eagerly waiting.

  “Jose, now is that the proper attire for a feast in your honor? Wouldn’t you like to go get out of those coveralls and put on some nice clean clothes? Take a shower maybe?” She lifted her eyebrows and grinned.

  He sensed another agenda behind the request, took a second to think, his eyes locked on Scout’s. “Will you accompany me?”

  “Come on.” Scout waved him on.

  The men tossed the meat on the grill and made promises to each other that they would never let the “girls” get at their trailer while they were out of town.

  “Well, what’s this gathering?” Jose asked the women standing next to his RV. “What do you ladies have up your sleeves?”

  “Go on, Jose, go in,” Mary demanded, obviously excited.

  Playfully, Jose turned the knob slowly and opened the door in slow motion. The smell of peaches from the potpourri hit like fumes as he stepped up and into his metal home. The ladies waited, Martha with her shoulders pushed up and her hands folded to her chest. Jose leaned out the door.

  “You did this?” he asked, knowing from the décor that it had to be the three. “Well, it’s never looked better, or cleaner. You did a lot of work in here; it looks great. Thank you!” Jose was beaming. “Come on in. All of you, come in.”

  They rushed to join him. Each enthusiastically pointed out a detail they didn’t want him to miss. Scout nodded her head towards the little bathroom thinking he’d get a kick out of the crochet teepee.

  “We have to let Jose get ready for the barbecue.” Mary began hurrying everyone out the door.

  “Did you see your bathrobe, Jose?” Martha asked before exiting.

  Jose was standing by the bathroom door, smiling, and answered, “Yes, Martha. Thank you. This is all very nice, very nice. Thank you, really nice. Thank you, lovely ladies.” He asked Scout if she had helped.

  “I helped by not helping. They get full credit for all this work.”

  The campground was alive with people and chatter. The sky was a massive display of orange, blue and purple swirls. There were lively conversations accompanied by the sound of Jarred’s guitar. The smoky smell off the grill kept Jose’s appetite going. Jose was fielding questions quite well, amusing Scout as she listened. Charlie just plain ignored questions regarding his two unexpected companions. The evening was festive, filled with all the good things that bring people together--love, laughter, music, food and friendship.

  The next morning Jose was up early. Between the numerous “Hey, Jose, glad you’re back” and “Good morning, Jose” shouted in his direction, he checked over and made adjustments to his new bike. Eric learned the fate of Jose’s main mode of transportation and gave him his own rarely used bicycle. A pair of cowboy boots appeared between the spokes as Jose spun the wheel of the bike. They were attached to Lester who donned a John Wayne grin.

  “Howdy stranger, finally made it home did ya?” Lester greeted Jose with his affected cowboy accent.

  “Hey Lester. Thanks, man, for going out and trying to find us.”

  “No problem.”

  “What’s up, buddy?”

  “I’m going into town tonight,” Lester informed and paused, waiting for Jose to inquire further but he didn’t. Jose knew it wasn’t necessary; Lester was going to explain before he could finish the question anyway. Lester continued, “I’m taking a lady out tonight.”

  “First date?” Jose asked.

  “Well, yep. We’ve talked on the phone a few times though, briefly. She’s Shirley’s cousin.”

  “Didn’t you go out with Shirley?”

  “Once.”

  Jose looked up at Lester from behind the wheel, “Just once, huh?”

  “No, I wouldn’t say that. I took Shirley to a horse auction too. She was so busy I may as well have stayed home. I think you would consider it a date.”

  “She pretty?” Jose was making small talk, more interested in fixing the bike while he waited for Scout to exit from her camper than another one of Lester’s about-to-be-first- date announcements
.

  “Shirley’s not bad so her cousin couldn’t be too bad….”

  Jose listened until Lila relieved him.

  “Morning Lester, you’re up early this morning. There’s fresh coffee and donuts in the office.”

  “Why thank you, Lila, I think I will. I’ll talk to you later. Good to see you back, safe.”

  “Lester would you bring some coffee and a couple of donuts to Charlie for me, please?”

  “Yes ma’am.” Lester tipped his cowboy hat and left for the office.

  “That’ll keep him out of your hair for a while. Sometimes Lester can be a bit much first thing in the morning. He’s an acquired taste.”

  “As we all know. I’m not in the mood to listen this morning, so thanks.”

  “Didn’t think you would be.”

  “He’s got another first date,” Jose informed.

  “Yes I know; we all heard. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “I’ll head into the office in a few.” He stopped what he was doing. “Have you seen Scout this morning yet?”

  “No, I haven’t yet, but Jose I’m here to get you to go to Caballeros tonight; the guys want to give you a welcome home party. Well, they’ll have the party if you’re there or not, you know how that goes but it would be nice if you showed up.”

  He looked up at Lila. “I oughta to do this more often.”

  “Once is enough, thank you, Jose. You had us very worried.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t plan it, Lila.” He gave her his winning smile. “What time tonight?”

  “I would imagine around seven. You’ll be there then?”

  “Of course!” He added with adolescent enthusiasm, “Can I bring a date?”

  “Scout is invited. I was going to tell her as soon as I saw her. She should be up soon, has to walk Pepper.”

  “Look.” Jose’s hands were occupied so he scooped his head in the general direction of Wiggie who was out of her pen and munching on hay with Charlie’s mules again.

  “Oh, Wiggie!” Lila shook her head back and forth. “Damn goat! This means she broke her gate again.”

  “You love that ‘damn goat’ no matter what she does. I’ll take a look at it when I finish,” Jose shouted to Lila as she hurried off. Wiggie watched Lila stomp towards her, unfazed with a clump of hay bobbing up and down then disappearing through her rubbery lips. She begrudgingly left hay heaven and ended up tied to a tree.

  Penny and Scout took Pepper for his walk. Penny was all chatter about a trip to Yosemite; she hadn’t been there for forty years and was looking forward to it. They passed and waved to Jose as he struggled to fix Wiggie’s gate then were seized by Lila. She wanted to extended invitations to both Penny and Scout to Jose’s welcome back party at Caballeros.

  There was a buzz of excitement about the evening’s events--the big party for Jose, Lester’s new first date and Scout getting away for dinner with Penny. Most everyone was heading out for the evening. As six o’clock neared, the men at the campground started leaving for Caballeros, including Tom who typically decline invitations to such events. Jose had his new bike ready for the evening. He figured he would be doing a good amount of drinking and chose to take his bike instead of Lila’s car. No such thing as DWI on a bicycle in Pista, yet.

  Lester removed what qualified as a good suit from his closet. The jacket was western style with an ultra-suede yoke. The pants belonged to another suit. He changed his shirt several times until he was satisfied that he had accomplished his desired look. He pulled on his best cowboy boots, splashed on more cologne than necessary then ran his fingers through his hair one more time before adding his signature brown cowboy hat. He was off to pick up his date.

  Lester was nervous on the ride to her house. He wasn’t sure where she lived but ended up finding it without any problem. She was waiting outside for him as he drove slowly up the dirt drive. His date rose from her chair on the porch and he got a good look at her. Lester was truly nervous now. She was pretty, much prettier than Shirley. He already knew he wanted her to be at least a two-dater. He didn’t want to blow this one.

  Lester stepped from the truck straightening his coat as he shut the truck door. She greeted him at the steps, looked him up and down and smiled. A good sign, he thought to himself. They exchanged semiformal introductions.

  “I think we should be on our way, the party starts at seven.” Lester stood rigid. He was very nervous; she was even prettier close-up.

  “All right, I need to lock the door.” Her voice was sweet.

  Lester took a deep breath trying to relax, mumbled low enough that only he could hear, like a mantra, don’t blow it, don’t blow it….

  Lester opened the passenger door in true gentleman style. He continued to mumble “don’t blow it” as he rounded the front of the truck. He hopped in behind the wheel then took another look at his date. She smiled back. His heart sped up. Lester started the truck and for the first time since dating in Pista he instinctively knew to keep his mouth shut. She made it easy for him. She was planning to buy a horse, the details of her venture were cumbersome, and she talked about it without hesitation or many pauses, much to Lester’s relief. He kept glancing at her as she spoke; she was so attractive.

  Jose sat on his bed putting on his shoes and had to stop, amused and beholding, to admire his new décor. Eric blew his car horn as he passed by to hurry Jose along. All good things come to an end, shortly. That was the philosophy Jose lived by. If it felt good, particularly too good, don’t hang around for the disappointment--walk away or distance yourself. Dreams and hopes for the future were a thing of the past, an ancient past. He was content in his life since he had it all figured out. Life rarely contradicted or gave error to his philosophies. Then came Scout. With his pessimistic predictions now absent, or at least on hold, Jose began thinking about a future. He knew that if Scout left he was going with her; if she stayed, he was staying with her. This, with all his cynical life predictions, was unimagined prior. Life was new for Jose. The last thing he wanted to do was distance himself.

  Jose checked his look in the mirror then took a shirt from the closet and draped it on the bed. He placed a bottle of tequila on the table next to the bed with a note to Scout taped over the label. Carefully, he plucked a cactus flower from outside and placed it on the pillow. He was off. Wiggie called out to him from her little yard now held secure with a rope snaking around the gate. The breeze carried all the familiar smells of the campground and of Pista as he peddled into town. He peddled fast and sailed through Pista by rote, he could have done it with his eyes closed if it weren’t for all the holes in the roads.

  “Hey, Jose!” yelled Harold from the front of his store. He was closing up, locking the door and heading to Caballeros too. “Good to see ya back!” Jose waved back, holding on tightly with the other hand as he maneuvered the bumpy unpaved road.

  “Come down to Caballeros,” he yelled to Harold.

  “I’m on my way.”

  Jose grabbed onto the handlebars with both hands as he negotiated the turn at an accelerating speed. Watching for cars wasn’t Jose’s main concern; it was the deep holes and rocks in the road that posed a hazard to a cyclist. He wanted to make it to the party quickly but without cuts, scrapes or anymore bruises than what already adorned his backside which he raised inches from the bicycle seat for relief.

  Lester’s date ran through most all anyone could say about buying a horse. He knew little about horses but didn’t want to admit it and God knows he didn’t want to blow his chances for a second date so he said near nothing. When she finally quit talking, the sudden silence made him anxious and eager to get to the party at Caballeros where others would take up the slack. Lester stepped on the gas.

  Penny and Scout left Elena’s and as they neared Pista’s main street, they discussed whether they wanted to stop at the party. A party appealed to Penny but Scout had the same idea in mind as Jose. She wanted to talk about their time at the lake.
She wanted to ask him to join her in Monterey. She wanted that evening to end next to Jose.

  “I’d rather go home, Penny.”

  “I think the party might be for you too, Scout.” Penny slowed her speed, giving them more time to decide.

  “Oh no, the party is definitely for Jose. This is his town.” Where there was a party that’s where Penny wanted to be. “Why don’t you just drop me off at Broken Arrow and you can go back to the party. I bet it’ll be fun. Myra should be there, now that would add to the fun. How can you resist such an adventure?”

  “Sounds good to me.” Penny sped up. She dropped Scout off, did a sharp U-turn and was off to Cabelleros.

  Pepper’s evening walk was short. Scout cautiously made her way through the campground, careful not to be seen, and disappeared into Jose’s RV. The smell of peaches was smothering but their origin was comforting. She turned on the main light briefly to find a smaller one and found the note on the bottle. Scout made herself comfortable on the bed and read Jose’s request in the dim overhead light. She undressed, slipped into the shirt left on the bed and poured herself a shot of tequila. Jose’s belongings were sparse. There were no books in view. She hoped to find a magazine in the tiny bathroom but no such luck, only a piece of mail set next to the crocheted teepee. She opened the closet. In the tiny enclosure were only a few pieces of clothing on hangers, a couple pairs of shoes and an open box with papers, folders and what appeared to be photo albums. She hesitated at first. Then she gave herself permission to steal a look inside the photo albums.

  The dim overhead light illuminated an important slice of Jose’s life. The albums contained page after page of Jose with his army buddies: Jose outside of a jungle, Jose dirty and sweaty with others soldiers strewn about some overgrown terrain, Jose next to helicopters, Jose posing playfully with other soldiers. And, Jose looked happy in every picture, as did the other soldiers. Jose was laughing or smiling in most every picture. There was writing next to several of the photographs. Jose posed kneeling with a German shepherd, obviously a sanctioned companion. “Paco” was written at the bottom. Scout wasn’t aware that the soldiers had dogs. She realized how little she did know about a war that occurred in her time, fought by her contemporaries. Suddenly ashamed of her ignorance, Scout wondered how such a thing could happen--how could she live during a war and not know or understand what went on or what it was actually about. Worse, she knew she wasn’t alone in her nescience. She wondered how it was for Jose to come home to ignorance such as hers. There were letters in envelopes stuck between some of the pages. She was curious, of course--to open them was to see deeper into Jose’s past life. She respectfully left them in place, untouched. Scout looked over the pictures again and again. The more she stared at the pictures, like stepping back from an impressionistic painting, the more distinct and clear the picture of Jose became: his eyes, his stance, the changes, the man--the animated man in the photos was the man by the lake.

  Scout placed the album back, poured herself another shot of tequila and reclined into the comfort of Jose’s bed and new quilt with her thoughts about Monterey. She thought about the places that she would show him and pictured his reactions. And about the people that she wanted him to meet and to meet him, like Sam. She imagined where in town she would reopen her store and could picture Jose helping and enjoying all the weird and wonderful things that filled the store. She eagerly waited for Jose to return; there was so much to talk about, so many plans and decisions to be made. It was all so exciting. She felt like a child on Christmas Eve. The gifts of tomorrow were so exciting that she could hardly sleep.

  Lester barreled down the side street hardly slowing to negotiate the turn onto the main road. He was focused on seizing a parking space directly in front of Cabelleros. Lester’s eyes were on the empty parking space as Jose’s eyes were on the maze of potholes and rocks. The party had already started at Cabelleros without them.

  Suddenly Lester’s date threw her hands up and covered her face. She let out a frightful scream.

  “Oh shit, what did I hit?” Lester whipped his head from side to side as he slammed on his brakes.

  She pulled her hands from her face and exclaimed in a panic, “Lester you hit a man, on a bike!”

  He jammed the shifter into park and leaped from the truck but suddenly froze in place. Lester couldn’t move. Jose’s bent bike lie in one spot and Jose lie in another. Lester couldn’t make his legs move. He couldn’t step forward to reach his friend. Harold seemed to appear out of nowhere and at Jose’s side, yelling to Lester, instructing him to get help as he kneeled over Jose who, like Lester, was motionless. Lester didn’t move, his eyes were fixed on Jose. He didn’t hear Harold.

  “I’ll call, Lester, I’ll call.” She looked up at Lester then ran for help.

  Lester moved his hand and the rest followed. He made his way as though fighting a strong wind. He brushed the small bloody pebbles from Jose’s face then looked at Harold. In a low monotone Lester declared, “He’s dead.”

  “You’re going to be all right, Jose. You’re scratched up a bit. Don’t move, just lie here….” Harold continued to try to comfort Jose.

  “Harold, he’s not breathing,” Lester whispered.

  “Fuck off, Lester. Save your dead body crap. Get the hell out of here.” Harold reached up and with the strength of one arm shoved Lester away.

  Lester could hardly steady his own weight.

  “Just hold on, buddy…” Harold continued.

  Lester turned to his date, pale and staring beyond her pretty face. She did her best to comfort him.

  “I didn’t see him…” He cursed himself and began to sob in her arms.

  The news spread like an earthquake, down the main street and into the campground.

  It was a gentle shake on the shoulder. Scout awoke. She sat up, self-conscious about being found in Jose’s bed and pulled the quilt up to her neck. He poured her a shot of tequila and grabbed the bottle for himself. She was perplexed by Eric’s brazen entry--uninvited and pouring Jose’s tequila into his mouth straight from the bottle as if at a party. It was awkward being just the two of them while she was in Jose’s bed.

  “What’s up?” Scout asked, bewildered by Eric’s behavior.

  Eric suggested she drink down what was in her glass. This wasn’t the Eric Scout was familiar with and she shifted her position so she could see his face.“What’s going on, Eric?” she asked again, this time a bit louder. His eyes appeared frightened. Scout felt her adrenaline pumping, not knowing why.

  “I don’t know a good way to tell you this, Scout, so I’ll just tell you straight out. Jose was hit by a truck on the bike last night, and, ah---“

  “Where is he?” Scout swung her legs over the side of the bed ready to dress.

  “Scout, he didn’t make it. Fuck, I gave him that fucking bike. I should’ve given him a ride. I should have stopped and given him a ride….“ Eric’s voice faded to a whisper as he repeated himself.

  “He didn’t make what?” Scout grabbed his arm and leaned forward, waiting for his answer and watching his face intently.

  He offered Scout the bottle as if that was his answer.

  Scout wrapped the quilt around her and went to the door.

  “Fuck, Scout, he’s dead. He’s fucking dead. I’m sorry.” Eric poured tequila into his mouth as though he was filling a glass.

  “Where is he?” Scout asked as she opened the door. Burt stood on the back deck to the office. His face said it all.

  Scout slumped onto the floor as she had at the news of Lauren’s death only this time she couldn’t get back up.

  Burt called out at the sound of her cries. He wanted to help. He didn’t know what to do other than to call out her name, let her know that he was there. Then he could no longer hold back his own cries.

  Soon others joined Eric and Scout in Jose’s long-time home. Penny held onto Scout as tight as she could. Eric could no longer handle the sounds of th
e cries; he passed the bottle of tequila to Jarred and rushed out the door.

  The world that was Broken Arrow stopped that day.

  Jose’s funeral was packed, as packed as Cabelleros the night of his party. Manny showed up with Kim by his side. Scout sat next to Charlie, holding on tightly to his hand with Charlie’s grip anchoring her through the ceremony. The past weeks replayed for Scout, flickering like home movies in her head with the volume turned up high. When it was all over, Charlie led Scout, like one would guide a lost child, out to join the others. Cars filled with friends in mourning waited. They were to follow behind the weathered truck transporting Jose’s coffin to the old graveyard where Pista’s loved ones were laid to rest for over a hundred years. Scout could not bear to watch Jose being lowered into the ground and covered with dirt, to see where he was to lie stationary along rows of others for eternity. Scout went back to Broken Arrow and immediately packed the Cadillac.

  She decided to leave the camper. Maybe someone else would need it, maybe Jarred. She fumbled with the keys to the Scout; she couldn’t bring herself to go near it. Like Scout, Tom chose not to watch Jose being lowered into the ground. Scout saw him sitting by Wiggie’s pen and walked over. Holding back tears, she held out the keys to the Scout.

  “I’m not taking it with me. It’s yours if you want it.” She felt at ease with Tom for the first time. She tossed him the keys and Tom caught them with little effort.

  “Goodbye, Tom.” She didn’t expect him to respond and she turned immediately to leave.

  Scout slept in Jose’s bed her last night at Broken Arrow, talking to him as if they were again by the lake. It felt as if he were there, every bit there, she just couldn’t touch him. The tiny overhead light turned off briefly then came back on, which is all she needed to confirm his presence and to know she was spending her last night at Broken Arrow with Jose. Whether real or not, it’s what she needed to believe.

  The next morning, determined and somewhat numb, Scout said her good-byes. Nothing seemed right besides going home. Half in a muddle, she took addresses and promised to write and some day return for a visit. Scout extended, to each, her sincere wish that they come to visit her in Monterey, anytime; they would always be more than welcome. She now knew what it was like to love a group of people, a family; people who would never leave her life or heart.

  “Lila.” She had a favor to ask. “Would you send me a copy of the picture of Jose and Charlie, with Jose in Charlie’s clown suit?”

  Lila nodded then looked away as she fought what tears she had left. She would miss Scout but mostly, looking at Scout made her think of Jose finally ready to meet the world again when fate gave him a mortal blow.

  “We’ll miss you, Scout,” Martha said sweetly.

  “I’ll miss you all more than I can tell you.” Scout took several deep breaths, pushed her hair back and tried to stop her eyes from tearing up. “I guess it’s time to go home,” she said and smiled, “before I break down and start crying.” She took in each face. “I don’t want to start crying, I may never stop or may not leave and I have to go.” Scout’s voice reached a pitch mix with pain and desperation. “I don’t know what else to do.” She turned away and quickly walked to the Cadillac. Pepper hung half out the window amusing Penny with his barking which she tried to turn into a howl. Scout climbed onto the driver’s seat and took another look at everyone gathered on the office porch. Lila looked drained and, for the first time since Scout met Lila, so very fragile. She walked to her garden, opened the gate and stepped into her sanctuary. Wiggie’s head immediately strained through the fence posts to reach Lila and the green bounty of Lila’s well-kept garden.

  Lena turned the key and the old Cadillac rumbled to life. She kept her eyes focused on the road ahead, intentionally avoiding the group on the porch waving their good-byes. She slowly drove out of Broken Arrow and pulled onto the main street of Pista. She turned down a side street to avoid the spot where Jose died on his way to celebrate his safe return with those who loved him. Lena sped onto the freeway. She let down all the windows so the air would rush in and over her, consume her. Pepper hung out the window with his ears and jowls flapping in the wind. Lena suddenly stepped on the brakes. Pepper lurched forward as the Cadillac swerved to a long screeching stop. She put the car in reverse, weaving backwards to the off-ramp out of Pista then turned the Cadillac towards the dirt road that aimed out of town--all under the watchful eyes of Woody parked on the overpass. She drove down the well-worn road to a narrow turn-off leading to Pista’s old graveyard. Once there, she stopped at the wrought-iron gate and stared at the maze of wood, iron, tin and stone markers--every grave long standing, but one.

  She left the car running, rumbling in the background as she pushed past the gate and past the weathered graves to a mound of fresh dirt. She witnessed an incredible display of love for Jose, even in death. There were flowers, fresh and artificial, and gifts of all sorts decorating every available space. A bicycle leaned against the shade tree like a headstone. A handmade card reaching over a foot-tall proclaimed the love for a lost friend. The handmade crocheted dream catcher from Jose’s RV adorned the grave. A poem, written on cardboard and covered with cellophane, was propped up against an empty bottle of tequila that had a ribbon tied around its neck. Charlie left a fishing pole; it had line and a hook--ready to go. Lena stepped back to capture it all: the New Mexican sky, the ravens standing guard in the graveyard trees, Jose’s grave, the distinct smells of the trees, grass and air. She wanted to remember and take it all with her. Jose’s face, framed, stared back from the center of the shade tree. She stepped closer to read the writing across the bottom: Jose, a good man, Burt. Jose looked handsome in his uniform.

  “You breathe life into me, Scout.” She could feel the cool water and Jose’s warm body pressed against her.

  The sound of the Cadillac’s injured muffler and the whimpers of Pepper called out. She took Jose’s picture from the tree; she knew Burt would understand.

  Once back on the freeway, ignoring the speedometer, she pushed all the way down on the gas pedal. In a whirlwind of hot New Mexican air, she flew out of Pista with no intention of letting up on the pedal--until, the flashing lights in her rearview mirror caught her attention. She immediately lifted her foot from the pedal. It was Woody. He pulled up alongside as the Cadillac slowed. Woody only wanted to make sure Scout was okay. She smiled, relieved, and was again reminded of how she loved and would miss the people of Pista. Woody turned off his lights, tipped his hat then sped off.

  With Jose’s picture sitting on the passenger’s seat and Pepper hanging out the window from the backseat, she crossed the border from New Mexico into Arizona--a distinction only noticed by a sign. She flipped through the stations on the radio and turned the volume all the way up. It was a good omen, though it sounded as if it were being broadcast through a tin can, “Old Blue, ya good dog you...” was rattling the speakers. Lena sang along, loud, in a voice best heard in the vast landscape of a desert. The sound of Lena’s off-key voice caused Pepper to howl, just like Penny taught him.