“Y’all sit tight. I’ll get ‘em up,” the hotshot man declared as he jammed the electric prod into first one and then the other.
“Lose the hotshot!” the older cowboy spat as he spurred his way over to a gate that separated the pen he was in from outside where the hotshot-happy man was. “They’re stuck! You’re gonna make them too weak to get up!”
“If you give anything enough inspiration, it’ll set itself free!” the man with the electric prod shouted gleefully, like the cowboys need not worry; he had it all under control. With that, he went back to holding the hotshot on first one heifer then the other as they thrashed around and bawled.
Jason saw the older cowboy come spurring up behind the man who was so deeply enthralled with his pointless torture that he didn’t hear the horse coming until it was almost on top of him. In an act of self-defense, he tried to turn and stick the cowboy’s horse with the hotshot, but the cowboy grabbed it directly behind the metal prongs and snatched it from his grasp.
Raising it above his head in sword-fashion, the cowboy charged his horse forward and, like a medieval warrior on a mission to cut down the enemy, swung the hotshot at the back of the cattle trailer, sending the base of it flying into splinters.
With that, he slide his horse to a stop, spun it around and trotted back over to the ex-hotshot man who starred wide eyed at his demolished prod as it was dropped at his feet.
“I should’ve known better than to ask a moron to do a man’s job,” the cowboy spat. “Now crawl back up in that trailer where you belong.”
A defiant look came over trucker’s face before he lamely spoke the only words of defense that his little mind could muster. “It’s a free country.”
The big cowboy stared down at him from his horse and began to unwrap the piece of rubber that held a rope to the horn of his saddle. “Maybe – maybe not,” he replied dryly as he began to build a loop. “Go get in the trailer,” he added like it was the last warning.
“Look Tyler,” the young horseman intervened, concern evident in his voice, “we don’t need no hangin’.”
“A hanging around the neck cuts off the flow of oxygen to the brain,” the older man explained to the younger. “Wouldn’t do this fella here a bit of harm seein’ how he don’t have no a brain.” He then directed his attention back to the man of whom he spoke. “Times up,” he said as he began to whirl the rope around his head.
Fear finally registered in the eyes of the trucker, and he began to walk backward before turning to run. As he did, the man referred to as Tyler gave the rope one final whirl before releasing it. The man on the ground was a good ten feet away and running but, in spite of his disadvantage, the cowboy laid a perfect trap; the top of the loop coiled around the man’s shins as the bottom slid across in front of his shoes on the ground. One more step and he was snared. The horseman simply pulled the slack tight, yanking the fleeing man’s feet together and causing him to do a face-plant into the ground. The cowboy then wrapped the rope around his saddle horn as he spun his horse in a half circle on its heels and began dragging the screaming man across the yard.
They went right passed a wide eyed Jason, who was hiding behind the door of his pickup, over to a tree where the crazy horseman unwrapped the rope from the saddle horn and looped his bridal reins over it. With both hands free, he kept the tension with one hand as he tossed the coils of the rope over the limb with the other. Gathering the reins back up, he made a single loop around the saddle horn which allowed the rope to slide across the horn as he trotted away from the tree, yet kept enough tension on the rope to prevent the man from going free. When the cowboy reached the end of the rope, he took another wrap on the saddle horn without slowing down. The rope tightened and the flailing, hollering man was hoisted by his feet into the air where he dangled back and forth like a pendulum.
The horseman then circled the tree at a trot several times before coming to a stop and tying the end of the rope to a post close by. Change was falling from the trucker’s pockets as horse and rider approached him. “If you don’t want to go hang out in your trailer then you can just hang out here for a while,” the horseman said with a smile before he rode off, chuckling to himself about the little joke he’d made.
Jason turned around and looked into his truck. Over in the passenger-side seat, a scared little doctor sat, his window rolled all the way up. As Tomas peered out at the horseman that loped by, headed back in the direction of the loading chute, he reached up and quickly locked the door.
“Jason, let’s get out of here,” Tomas pleaded. “He may decide to hang me, too.”
“Only if you make him,” Jason spoke, unable to refrain from a little mockery. “Remember, you’re in control of this situation.” He then shook his head a little, unable to hold back one last jab. “I just can’t believe you made him hang that poor man.”
With a smile, Jason left the doctor brewing in a mixture of fear, shame and what seemed to be a touch of anger. Jason’s footsteps took him in the direction of the loading chute, where he’d just seen the older cowboy drop down into the channel out of sight. He didn’t want to get roped, dragged, and hanged, but his curiosity was getting the better of him.
“Come help me, man! Get me down!” Jason heard the man hanging upside-down hollering to the doctor who acted like he couldn’t hear the obvious plea. He had probably seen the rope that the younger cowboy had on his saddle and didn’t wish to wind up dangling alongside the trucker.
Upon reaching the loading shoot, Jason peered over the edge. Each yearling had wound up pointing in the same direction, but the one on the top was stranded like an upside-down turtle, pinning the other. The younger cowboy was up under the rump of the calf on top, trying to lift the back half of the five hundred pound beast. The older cowboy, who up close appeared to only be in his early to mid-thirties, grabbed the tail of the bottom calf and pulled for all he was worth. The heifer was still wedged under the other and wouldn’t budge an inch.
“She’s about gone,” the older cowboy spoke to the younger. “We’ve got to get her out.”
It was about that time that Jason was spotted. “Get in here,” the older cowboy instructed without missing a beat. Jason didn’t react instantly. He had always been a little leery about crawling into confined spaces with animals that were more than twice his size. “Now!” the man spoke again in a more urgent voice. Jason cast a quick glance over at the groaning man suspended from the tree then back at the two yearlings, weighing the options. With his mind made up, he dropped down into the loading chute beside the younger of the two, who appeared to be in his late-teens.
When Jason landed it startled the upside-down heifer and as a result he received a hoof to the chest, knocking him back, directly into the older cowboy who caught him, pushed him down then forward as he instructed, “Stay down. Go in low and get up under her. Y’all got to lift her hind-end clean off of this other one.”
Jason still didn’t see how that would help. If they actually could get the top one lifted off of the other there was no way a single man could drag the bottom one free.
“Push!” older cowboy ordered. Jason lunged in beside the kid and began pushing for all he was worth. “Good, were clear,” the older horseman spoke in a quick and excited tone. “Hold ‘er right there,” he said with a grown as he dug his heels in and began to pull. “She’s hung up. Keep holding ‘er,” he spoke as he stuck his head around Jason’s leg and squeezed between the two calves. In position, he began trying to pull the bottom calf’s hoof from the spot where it was wedged.
Jason felt something warm began trickling down his back. “She’s peeing on me,” he cried out in horror.
The younger cowboy chuckled, “Peeing ain’t all she’s doing on you.”
Jason wanted to run away and puke, but the older cowboy’s words of encouragement made him keep holding his position. “Drop ‘er on me, we’ll both be sorry.”
A few moments later, Jason felt the cowboy’s hand jerk as the hoof came free. Cr
awling out, the big man set his boots solid into the ground and began to pull again. His face turned red, veins stood out in his neck, and he began to make a deep growling sound from the strain. The heifer began to move.
Finally, the one on the bottom was pulled clear. “Okay boys, let ‘er down.” Jason let out a grown as he and the younger cowboy lowered her back down. She just lay there on her back with her knees bent.
“Is she dying?” Jason asked, voicing his concern.
“Naw,” the kid replied, “she just a little dazed from laying on her back for so long.” He paused as he looked over at the other calf that had been on the bottom. “That’s the one we need to worry about dying,” he said as he indicated towards her. With that, he turned and gave the dazed one a nudge with his boot. She began thrashing around. The sound of her hooves kicking against the sheet metal made an awful racket, and Jason was sure she’d be stuck there for good. But, finally, she got her feet worked back under her. She was even pointing in the direction of the trailer when she stood.
“Step back,” the kid instructed Jason as he stepped to the side of the chute where he was less likely to get kicked and grabbed the heifer’s tail which he then kinked up over her back. She bawled and kicked backward at the air before lunging forward, up into the trailer.
With that done, they all turned their attention back to the yearling that was still down. She hadn’t even tried to pick her head up. “If we don’t get her up soon, she’ll just lay there till she dies,” the kid said gravely. “Give me a hand,” he instructed Jason as he began trying to hoist the heifer up by her tail.
Following suit, Jason grabbed the tail just above the kid’s hands, squatted down and began lifting. The older cowboy grabbed the calf by the ears, and together they all began pulling her to her feet. With a distressed cry, she trembled, trying to get her legs stiffened out straight beneath her. Soon the heifer was standing on her own, though she was swaying side to side like a drunken sailor in the midst of a tropical storm. Finally, she began to stagger back down the channel, the sheet metal popping loudly as she smashed into first one side then the other.
“She’ll have to catch next month’s load out,” the older cowboy said, “if she don’t decide to die on us, that is.”
As Jason strode alongside the two ranchers, with his previously spotless dress shirt now stained with cow manure and pee, he had never felt such a sense of pride swelling up in his chest. These hard men, who very obviously took nonsense from no one, seemed to have accepted him to some extent.
The older of the two looked at the back of Jason’s shirt, and his mustache moved with his cheeks as he grinned. “You may have to move that shirt over to the work pile,” he commented. Jason wasn’t about to admit it, but he didn’t even have a work pile.
“Yep,” injected the younger cowboy in a laidback voice as he pushed his cowboy hat up with his index finger, “not bad for a city boy.”
At any other place, coming from any other person, any other time, Jason may have taken offence to the comment, but now he accepted it like the tough looking young man had meant it… as the highest of praise.
They opened a gate leading into a small shaded pen with water and feed before gently herding the weak calf into it. As soon as they had closed the gate on her, the older rancher turned to Jason with an out stretched hand. “I’m Tyler,” the man said, introducing himself. He towered several inches over Jason, and his grip said that he was strong, knew it and didn’t have a thing to prove.
“I’m Jason,” he responded. After he released Tyler’s hand, Jason turned to the younger man. “Jason,” he spoke his name again.
“Rye,” the kid responded, giving Jason’s hand a firm shake.
After greetings had been exchanged, a forgotten voice interrupted the small talk that was being made between the three men. “Somebody, let me down… please,” the distraught trucker begged. “Please, let me down. I’ll stay in the trailer.”
Jason, Tyler and Rye all quickly turned and looked in the direction from which the pleas had come. A look of surprise came over each of their faces as remembrance registered on their faces. The image before them was rather sad, regardless of what crime had been committed. The truck driver had managed to somehow coil his way, in sit-up fashion, up to his feet which he clang to desperately.
“You better go let him down,” Rye spoke to Tyler in a concerned voice.
“Yeah,” Tyler responded slowly, “to be perfectly honest with you, I forgot he was there.” As he spoke, it appeared as though a glimmer of humor may have sparked in his eye. Jason had to admit, he was starting to find it a bit humorous. It would’ve been one thing if the guy had done nothing deserving of his punishment, but he had practically begged for what he got. Jason followed the two other men as they climbed over several fences, making their way towards the dangling man.
Tyler came to a stop by a small barn. “Would you mind grabbing Jason here a hotshot out of the shed while I go over and release the prisoner?” he asked Rye before turning to head off towards the hanging man.
A thought seemed to stop him in his tracks, and he spun back around to the two men with an astounded look on his face. “I’m sorry, Jason,” he apologized as he shook his head. “You don’t even work for us, and here I am ordering you around like an old hand.” He paused a moment. “We’re short-handed. The guy who usually cleans the stalls and does most of our foot work went back to Mexico. I don’t know why you’re here, but if you’ll help us get this other truck loaded, I’ll pay you good money.”
“Sure,” Jason spoke. “I’ll help you.” Really, the tall ranchman didn’t even have to offer money. Jason hadn’t felt so good about doing something in a long time. Plus, with a new challenge before him, it was nice to be able to put down, if only for a brief moment, the things that were behind.
Tyler gave him a thumbs-up as he headed back over towards the trucker who still clung to his feet like his life depended on it. Jason followed Rye into the shed where the young man plucked a hotshot from its place on the wall before handing it to Jason.
When they rounded the corner to watch Tyler free the hanging man, to Jason’s surprise he almost ran smack-dab into the tall cattleman.
“Let me have that hotshot,” Tyler instructed as a sly grin spread across his face.
Jason asked no questions. He just handed it over.
“Come on, Tyler,” Rye spoke with concern. “Don’t you think you’ve put that poor man through enough without electrocuting him?”
“I ain’t gonna electrocute him,” the tall horseman said then paused, his grin widening, “but I see no reason for him to know that.”
The kid let out a sigh of despair before falling in step behind Jason who was following Tyler. The two paused a short distance from the hanging tree and watched as the big man approached his victim. He pushed the button on the prod and stood there for a moment seeming to access how to best go about the task at hand. A buzzing sound, caused by voltage looking for a path of travel, could be heard all the way over to where Jason was standing.
“You look stuck,” Tyler commented dryly as he gazed at the truck driver.
“I am,” the man cried. “Please, let me down.”
“Well, actually that’s why I’m here,” the big cowboy spoke solemnly. “I’ve come to help you set yourself free… by the same method you used to help them two yearlings. Now let me see… what were your exact words?” he asked then paused for a moment, contemplating. “Oh yes. You said ‘If you give anything enough inspiration it’ll set itself free.” Tyler smiled as he added, “It would appear that you are now in the same predicament that those two heifers were in. I assume that you’d like for me to show you the same courtesy?” He raised the hotshot to the trucker’s side and began inching it closer to him.
“No, no, no! Please no!” the man bawled. “I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean it! I don’t know why I kept shocking them!”
“It wasn’t because you thought that they could get up?” the tall
cowboy asked in surprise.
“No sir.”
“Then why on earth were you shocking them… even after I told you to stop?” Tyler asked like he still could not comprehend such willful disobedience.
“I don’t know, sir. I honestly don’t know,” the hanging man sobbed while shaking his head.
Tyler ceased his integration and stood silent for a moment before commenting in a much more peaceful tone, “I guess the important thing is that you ain’t gonna do it again… right?”
“Yes sir. I mean, no sir. I mean, I won’t do it again sir… not ever. I, I won’t even…”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Tyler injected quietly as he walked over to the spot where the rope was tied. Reaching up, he snagged the end of it and pulled, releasing the slipknot. As he unwrapped the rope from around the tree, the trucker began to slip towards the ground. Tyler sat back on the rope and checked his victim’s rapid decent before hollering to Jason and Rye, “Y’all come catch ‘em.”
They both rushed over and placed their hands on the shoulders of the shaking man and eased his landing as Tyler began lowered him on down. Once they had him laid out flat, the older cowboy walked up and began to remove his rope from the trucker’s feet.
After that, Jason began trying to help the poor guy up but Tyler stopped him. “Drag him over to the tree trunk, and let him sit there for a while ‘til he gets some feeling back into his legs.”
What surprised Jason the most was the fact that the big rancher seemed to no longer hold any animosity towards the man who had made him so angry only a short while before.
- - - - - -
The next hour or so flew by as Jason squatted down, manning the hotshot at the base of the loading ramp where the guy they had dangled from the tree had been a short time before. Both of the cowboys seemed to be happy with his work. It wasn’t anything extremely complicated, and Jason had always possessed the ability to learn new things rather quickly… when it was something he was interested in, anyways.
Beneath the Tombstone (The Tombstone Series) Page 14
