Next World Series (Vol. 3): Families First [Second Wind]

by Ewing, Lance K.

  “Rico is ten times the man Ralph is,” replied Mac, getting a look from Samuel.

  “Is there something I should know here?” he asked, looking at both Sarah and Mac.

  “Yes, father. Please take me home, and I’ll tell you on the way.”

  She hung back, as Samuel headed for his truck.

  “Nice job,” she told Mac, punching him lightly on the shoulder but smiling. “You’re going to owe me for this one.”

  “What did I say?” asked Mac.

  “It was hard enough getting one group crossover relationship approved, and now there may be another. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of it. And Mac,” she said, followed by a long pause, “don’t let me see that son of a bitch Ralph ever again!”

  “Yes, ma’am. That I can surely do,” he replied.

  * * * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Saddle Ranch ~ Loveland, Colorado

  Mac, heading back up the road, was updated by Cory.

  “The doc is taking a look at him as best he can out here. He’s insulted the good doctor here twice already, but the doc is still trying to help,” said Cory, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Well, I’m done with him is all I know,” replied Mac. “Looks like he brought a few friends,” he continued, looking down the road, “but at least they are keeping their distance.”

  “Can you finish up here, Cory, and let me know when it’s done? I need to check up on Sarah and should give the generators at the hospital a tune-up while I’m there. Let’s get the new security team together for job duties first thing after breakfast tomorrow.”

  “Sure thing,” Cory replied. “I’ve got this, and I’ll let you know when it’s done or when the doc here gets tired of helping.”

  * * * *

  Does every day have to be so complicated? Mac thought, riding to The West hospital. Can’t we have just one day to be bored to death?

  He recalled his first few months here on Saddle Ranch, while dating the girl he found hitchhiking from Montana. On their days off, they would explore the Colorado mountains, hiking most weekends with his dog, Bo. He didn’t miss her since he met Sarah, but he did miss having an entire day with no violence or drama of any kind—just the wind in the trees and the often-found hidden stream or small lake that most on this earth would never see.

  * * * *

  Sarah relayed what she knew about Rico and Patty to Samuel on the short drive back.

  “It’s too quiet in here,” said Sarah, entering the hospital with Samuel. “So, I just wait for someone to get sick or hurt?”

  “No, it doesn’t always have to be that way,” said her father. “I believe you have another birth on the way from one of the Ranch mothers-to-be.”

  “That’s right,” said Sarah, realizing that she was so caught up in the situation with Bradley, and then Jimmy, that she had put the expectant mother to the back of her mind.

  “I didn’t abandon her, you know,” she told him. “She’s had the nurses at the Ranch keeping an eye on her.”

  “I was not suggesting that,” Samuel replied. “I only mentioned it as a positive reason to get the hospital ready.”

  She smiled, hugging him, whispering, “I love you, father, and always will.”

  * * * *

  The doctor patched up Ralph as best he could, and the small entourage carried him off down the road.

  “Is he going to make it?” Cory asked the doctor.

  “A few weeks ago, absolutely he would, but now I wouldn’t place a bet on it either way.”

  “We’re done down here, Mac” called Cory on the radio. “He’s patched up as good as the doc could do, and his friends took him away.”

  “What are his chances?” asked Mac, not caring much about the answer.

  “Fifty percent either way, according to the doc. Can I help with anything else this afternoon?” asked Cory.

  “Just let the new security team know we will meet after breakfast. Then spend some time with your boy. And Cory, I was real proud of your son today. He stepped up and earned his spot on the team.”

  “Thank you, Mac. That means a lot coming from you.”

  * * * *

  Mac left the southern barrier as the guards were being switched out for the week.

  He wondered if any of them would be better suited on his team.

  Sarah walked the Ranch freely, as all seemed to do. Gone were the days of an invite into either property for the right people.

  She checked in on the pregnant woman, who was officially due in 22 days.

  “It could be right on time, sooner or later, she told her, and your little girls will be here with us. It will most likely be early, though, with twins.”

  Sarah was a little nervous about the birth. She had delivered multiple singles over her career, but never twins. She would not relay her concerns to the expectant mother but would get a plan together with the two new doctors, with only one of them having limited experience in births.

  “You can stay here until you start having contractions. In the old-world, you could wait until they were maybe three to five minutes apart and lasting 45 to 60 seconds each, but now I want to see you at the hospital after they start. We will transfer you to our hospital when I think you are ready. Sound good?”

  “Yes, Doctor. That sounds wonderful,” the new mother replied. “I’m just glad I’m not out in the bush or walking down a deserted highway!” she added. “How do I pay you? I mean for your doctoring services.”

  Sarah paused, as even now it was a legitimate question. “This one is on my father, Samuel,” she replied, with a wink.

  * * * *

  Sarah met up with Mac, this time opting for dinner and a stayover for the first time at his place.

  “This cabin is tiny,” she joked, having never been in it before.

  “It’s more of a chalet,” he said, with a jokingly fancy tone.

  “I just hope there’s enough room for Bo and us in here,” she joked.

  “There is always room, my dear,” he replied.

  They reminisced about the happenings from the time they first met, tending to a wounded John until now, leaving out the part about Bradley.

  He told her of the Miller boy and the flowers. “I knew you didn’t think of that all on your own,” she teased, punching him lightly on the shoulder. “Who knew the Miller kid was such a lady’s man?” she added.

  “He’s complicated,” Mac replied, “but he’s still not staying here on the property.”

  She didn’t care to talk about Ralph, now or ever again, but they discussed Rico and Patty’s budding relationship at length.

  “Now, can we talk about guns and ammo, or hunting and fishing?” Mac asked, only half-joking.

  “I’m not sure about hunting, but I will fish you under the table, Mac.”

  “Is that so?” he replied, playing along.

  “It is, and I’ll challenge you tomorrow…unless you have something better to do,” she added.

  “I’ve got security training until early afternoon, but after that, you’re on.”

  “Three p.m., up at the canal, and I’ll even give you first choice of spots,” she bantered.

  How great is my girl? he thought, drifting off to sleep.

  They were awakened by Bo at sunup, pushing his dog bowl around the hardwood floor. “Clang! Clang!” was heard, as he flipped it into the air with his nose.

  “A couple more weeks, my friend, and we will be completely out of dog food around here. After that, it’s table scraps,” Mac told this furry friend.

  Bo barked and pushed his bowl toward Mac, getting a laugh out of both the humans.

  * * * *

  Training this day was different, both Mac and Cory noticed. All took it seriously, and each stood out with their various talents.

  “We’ve got a good group of men and women here,” pointed out Mac. “You up for a midnight security check with me, Cory?”

  “Absolutely,” he replied.

  Mac che
cked his watch, one of the few from the Faraday cage. It read 2:45 as he grabbed his lucky pole.

  “Time to show the ladies how men fish!” he told Cory.

  “I have got to see this!” Cory replied, dismissing the trainees, pending their upcoming shifts.

  * * * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Saddle Ranch ~ Loveland, Colorado

  Mac and Cory arrived with Bo to see Sarah and Samuel at the ready.

  “Good luck, son,” said Samuel. “She’s been fishing since she was five.”

  “I’m from Montana, sir, and it’s practically a requirement for kids to learn, so I’m ready,” replied Mac.

  Mac picked his spot, having fished it many times before.

  There was a monster (at least for this canal) rainbow trout at nearly five pounds somewhere down below that he had seen pictures of Lance catching and releasing nearly 30 years ago. It had been caught several more times since then, and released, in hopes of another great fish story.

  Mac wondered how long a trout could live, since the last sighting was nearly ten years ago. He asked Cory if he knew.

  “I know the answer on this one,” replied Cory, and unless your fish is supernatural, it’s not the same one from before. They live about seven years, and up to eleven occasionally. So, your monster is a great-grandchild of the one Lance caught back in the day. If there’s even one in there anymore!”

  “There’s fish in here for sure!” replied Mac.

  “Let’s go, tough guy,” Sarah taunted. “Pick your spot and the one with the most pounds of fish in one hour wins.”

  Mac picked his favorite spot at the front of the underground siphon, leaving her to fish the back end.

  The canal was full of rushing water 15 feet deep year-round, only slowing to a crawl twice a year during scheduled maintenance and repair, regulated by the Parks and Recreation Department.

  Since it last happened, the level remained steady with a strong current, Mac had observed.

  Every few hundred yards, the canal ran underground for 500 feet into what was called a siphon, covered by the dirt road and providing the best fishing spots on either end.

  Mac put two salmon eggs on his hook, grinning with the thought of his first catch. “You ready, Bo?” he asked, patting his trusted friend on the head. Bo barked once, focusing intently on the line to be slung.

  Casting into the opening of the canal where it started to go underground, he let the line sink halfway to the bottom. His pole jerked with the current, pulling the bait under quickly.

  “It looks like you’ve got one on the line!” said Cory.

  “Not yet,” Mac replied. “It’s just a fast current under the surface. The big guys are right down there at the midpoint.

  Five long minutes later, Mac got a small bite but couldn’t hook it.

  “What’s she doing over there?” asked Cory, pointing to Sarah in a flowing red summer dress, probably just to tease Mac about fishing gender roles, he thought.

  Sarah was walking through the tall grass, waving her arms, moving the blades side-to-side. “She hasn’t even put her pole in the water,” commented Mac. “This will be easier than I thought.”

  Walking to the edge of the canal, Sarah threw something into the water. Mac couldn’t see the juicy green grasshopper, as it was immediately taken by a large fish.

  “Just a few more samples and we will be in the fish,” said Samuel, excited for the next part.

  “I call it the Costco phenomenon,” she told him. “Give them just a small taste, and they will fill their carts or, in this case, their fish stomachs.”

  “I loved those free samples,” replied Samuel, “but I always spent more money than I intended to.”

  “Exactly,” Sarah replied.

  Mac hooked into a medium-sized fish and made a loud announcement: “Fish on! The first one of the day!” he added, so all could hear.

  “I’m sure he’s a good fisherman, but this here fishin’ hole ain’t Montana,” said Samuel.

  Sarah loved it when her father threw in some good country slang every now and then. “No, it’s not, father,” she said. “I’ll bet he thinks I’m throwing rocks in here.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Mac pulled up fish number two.

  “About a two-pounder!” Cory said. “Nice fish.”

  Mac was happy to be in the lead, since he felt this was one of his God-given talents.

  He was curious why, after almost half the time had slipped away—25 minutes to be exact—Sarah still hadn’t put a pole in the water. He was starting to feel bad about the gloating and thought about calling the whole thing off.

  “Are you ready to forfeit the competition?” called Sarah loudly. “You’re not in Montana anymore,” she quipped.

  “I’m up to two to none,” he said. “You can take the boy out of Montana, but you can’t take fishing out of me,” he called back, hooking into another good-sized fish.

  “Got a big one on the line,” he called to Cory, as the monster fish zigzagged back and forth across the narrow canal. He fought to keep the fish towards one side. “That’s it, big guy. Stay right there,” he said, as the fish seemed to be resting on the side.

  Mac kept the line tight and made his way slowly down the metal ladder on the side of the canal wall.

  “No, no, no!” he called out, as the fish jerked into the middle of the flowing water, zinging his line in a high-pitched test of his drag tension.

  “What’s the problem?” asked Cory.

  “He’s tangled up in the chains!”

  The chains he referred to were a series of one-inch link chains spanning the mouth of the canal, just before it went underground. They hung into the rushing water, flowing freely side-to-side. The ten chains across were suspended by a single cable spanning across the top of the cement canal.

  Nobody knew exactly why those chains were there, but it was thought that they might be the last line of defense before someone falling into the canal went underground and caught the blades that every kid thought were there to break up ice chunks in the winter months as they headed underground.

  There were stories of the canal occasionally drying up entirely, allowing someone to walk all the way through, keeping the scary stories of the ominous blades alive and well.

  Rumors of an occasional mountain-bike mishap or a curious child falling into the canal over the years kept a healthy fear in most residents’ minds. A small metal ladder, having each rung secured to the cement sides, ran down to the water’s edge.

  “Gotta let that one go,” called out Cory. “He’s tangled up good.”

  “I’m pretty sure I can reach him,” called Mac, stretching farther than he was comfortable going.

  “Almost got it untangled,” he called, as he held on with two fingers to the metal step.

  “Fish on!” yelled Samuel, distracting Mac enough to lose his grip. Plunging into the cold water, Mac held on to his pole.

  “Grab the chain!” Cory shouted, rushing towards the ladder.

  Without losing his pole, Mac swung his left arm wildly to grab a chain moving freely in the water. The current sucked his legs towards the underground blades, and everything slowed down.

  Cory yelled, “Drop your pole and grab the other chain!”

  No longer panicked, Mac couldn’t hear Cory’s yelling, but clearly saw his mouth moving.

  His grip on the chain was weakening as the current pulled his work boots towards the underground grave. Looking down, he saw his fish caught up in the chain next to him. Mac dropped his favorite pole, letting the current rip it away.

  Lunging forward, he grabbed the other slippery chain with his right arm. It seemed to help at first, but his hands slipped slowly towards the end of each chain, link by link.

  Memories of his mother, friends from school, old relatives, and new friends flashed through his mind. Sarah and Bo were front and center in the visions.

  Cory quickly descended the metal rung ladder, reaching an arm out, but he was tw
o feet short.

  Bo ran back and forth across the top of the road, barking and looking at Mac.

  Sarah was now at a full run, hearing Cory yelling instructions, followed by a slower Samuel.

  Stopping just above the rail, she saw him stretched out, as if he was laying on his stomach feet towards the underground.