by PAUL BENNETT
‘What about a hundred bucks and enough to cover a coffee.’
‘Now you’re talking. I’ll skip the coffee, though – no better than her cooking.’
I wrote down my mobile number and gave it to him.
‘Call me when you get back and we’ll talk over another beer.’
‘Don’t forget the dog.’
‘Juicy steak do him?’
‘Only if we cut it up small.’
‘Nothing’s too good for your dog.’
He reached down and patted the dog’s head.
‘Reckon so,’ he said.
It was good to be doing some physical exercise again. Since arriving in Texas we’d spent a lot of time thinking and planning, and not enough grafting. Red was on mountain watch and the remaining four of us had stripped off our shirts in the afternoon sun. Like a well-oiled machine, we filled the wheelbarrows with spadefuls of earth and rock and trundled back and forth to a new mound we’d created behind the ranch house. Our bodies glistened with sweat and our muscles began to ache. It was a good workout.
I was impressed with Pieter. Since his early-morning training with Bull and a less calorific diet, he was getting fitter day by day. Soon we wouldn’t have to worry about him letting us down when it came to the action.
We’d erected a barrier across the track so that no innocent person would stumble across our pit and fall in; it wouldn’t make any difference to the bikers – they’d just kick it down and ride through. To their doom, we hoped.
As the sun started to set we ceased work for the day and went back to the ranch house to shower and start to relax as best we could. We assembled around the table to talk over progress and have a sundowner or two. Stan had set up a bar on an old side table and stocked it with various spirits, mixers, beer and a bucket of ice. He’d even managed to get some coasters so we didn’t mark the table – not that with that old table anyone would have noticed. I helped myself to a long vodka and orange juice and sat down. Bull skipped the ice in his bourbon. Tooth no better, I thought.
‘A good day’s work,’ I said.
‘Be quicker tomorrow,’ Bull said. ‘Now that we have got a system in place.’
‘If we start at sunrise,’ Pieter said, ‘do you reckon we can get finished tomorrow?’
I shook my head. ‘Not if we’re going to make it deep enough and wide enough to cause a real problem for the Angels. We’re going to have to buy ourselves some time.’
Bull sipped at his beer and looked across the table at me. ‘And how are we going to do that?’
‘I’ve got a man working on it,’ I said.
‘There’s maybe fifty bikers and you’ve got one man working on it!’ Bull said.
‘And his dog,’ I said.
‘And his dog,’ Bull said with a shake of his head.
‘I got to hand it to you, Johnny,’ Red said. ‘I admire your idea of fair odds.’
‘We’re doing the best we can to decrease the odds against us – the pit, the booby traps and so on – but we’re still going to be heavily outnumbered. Unless …’
‘Unless what?’ Stan asked.
‘Unless we whittle down the numbers against us. We need to get proactive.’
‘Does that mean what I think it means?’ said Bull.
‘It do,’ said Pieter.
‘We’re not going to sit here just waiting for the bikers to turn up,’ I said. ‘We’re going to go to them. Catch them off guard. Take some of them out of the action.’
‘And how are we going to do that,’ Stan the strategist asked.
‘I told you. I’ve got a man working on it.’
‘And his dog,’ Bull pointed out.
‘They’ve set up camp at a diner twenty miles away. Jerome’s going to case it out for me.’
‘Jerome the old guy who sits outside the hotel each day?’ Red said, placing the ice cold beer can against his temple as if his brain was overheating.
‘With his dog,’ I said. ‘Mustn’t forget the dog.’
‘Gonna make the world of difference,’ Bull said, shaking his head.
‘This is no ordinary dog,’ I said. ‘You should see him catch peanuts.’
Pieter jangled the ice around in his glass of bourbon. Looked at it for inspiration. ‘Makes sense,’ he said. ‘Not the bit about the dog,’ he hastened to add, ‘but taking the fight to them. They’re not going to be expecting that.’
‘Always expect the unexpected,’ Stan said unoriginally.
I wondered why he didn’t have a Polish proverb for that. Probably best not to ask. He’d only say something incomprehensible about grandma’s soup always tasting better when eaten with a fork.
‘Early start tomorrow, guys,’ I said, getting up from the table.
‘And what’s different about that?’ Pieter said.
‘Don’t blame me,’ Bull said. ‘You shouldn’t have allowed yourself to get out of shape so quickly.’
‘Well I didn’t expect to be facing fifty bikers, did I?’
‘Maybe it won’t be fifty after tomorrow,’ I said.
‘Why do you always have to spoil it by saying “maybe”?’
Bull asked.
‘Because I’m naturally cautious. It’s a philosophy that’s always served me well. But no, not maybe. We’ll find a way of whittling down the numbers. I trust my old-timer.’
‘And his dog,’ Red said.
‘Dog’s gonna make all the difference,’ Bull said. ‘We can’t lose.’
‘Amen to that,’ I said.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I let go of the handles of the wheelbarrow and stretched my back. The sun was relentless and I wiped some sweat off my brow. It was noon and we had been working since seven o’clock that morning. At last we were making some real progress. The hole was now about three feet deep and measured ten feet square. It was our first line of defence; I hoped it would catch us a good few bikers and make some others take us seriously: maybe quit. Maybe. I took a swallow of my water bottle to wash away the dust we were generating from the digger. In the distance I could see three riders on horseback. As they got closer, I recognized them as Fey, Cameron and Lucy. I strolled over to meet them so that they wouldn’t get too near to the hole and guess our plans. You can’t be too careful. Lucy dismounted first and grabbed my hand, looking up at me with dreamy eyes. Since rescuing her from the bolting horse, I suspected I had become sort of knight in shining armour for her – hard act to live up to. Cameron latched on to Red: two half-caste Native Americans together.
‘To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?’ I asked.
Fey came across and kissed my cheek. ‘I’ve got some news,’ she said. ‘We’ve had an offer to buy the Retreat. Arrived in the post this morning.’
‘Who’s the would-be buyer?’ I asked.
‘We don’t know. The letter was from some hotshot law firm in Odessa: Crane, Oaks and Crane. They said it was “on behalf of an interested party”. We’d like to ask your advice on what to do. We’re having a meeting tonight and would like you to come along. Do say yes.’
I had other plans for tonight, but they would have to wait for the cover of darkness. And this news seemed a bit too coincidental. ‘I’d love to come. Can I be away by seven?’
‘We’ll start at six and it shouldn’t take more than an hour – the offer is the only thing we need to discuss as a group.’
‘What are you doing?’ asked Lucy, pointing at the pile of earth that was waiting for us to transport it out of sight.
‘Just some work on the track,’ I said. ‘You might say we’re preparing it for some vehicles. Best you go the long way to the ranch house next time you come. Or come round the back – we’ve taken a post-and-rail down so that we can easily move between our place and the Retreat.’
‘Oh,’ Lucy said. She looked pensive. ‘Are you married?’
I stood there in shock. ‘Not exactly,’ I said.
‘How can you be “not exactly” married?’ she asked.
�
��It’s just that we haven’t got around to it yet.’
‘So is it like being engaged?’
I nodded.
‘So you’re like a family?’
I nodded again.
‘I’ve always wanted a proper family. Can I come and live with you? I’m grown-up for my age. I could help you with whatever you do.’
‘I run a bar. It’s not the kind of work that’s suitable for a young lady like you.’
‘Well, I could help you out at home – sweep the floors, tidy up, cook your meals. Whatever. Please let me stay with you.’
‘I live on a small island. There’s no proper school and a girl your age needs a solid education so you can do whatever you please when you grow up.’
‘You don’t want me, do you?’ she said. I could feel she was on the brink of tears. ‘You don’t like me.’
‘No, that’s not right. Of course, I like you – you’re a lovely girl. But life on the island is different – there’s no riding horses for a start. And there’s Anna to consider – she’s my, er, lady. I don’t think it would work, especially as we’re having a baby.’
‘You’re having a baby! It was supposed to be my family. That you’d look after me. That I’d belong. But it won’t be like that. You’ll spend all your time mooning over some dumb baby.’ She let go of my hand and turned to Fey. ‘Let’s go,’ she said. She turned to me. ‘And don’t think you’re sitting next to me at this meeting.’
She stamped her foot, turned her back to me and mounted her pony.
‘See you at six,’ Fey said, smiling.
I nodded. There was a lot of thinking to do before then.
Bull came across to stand beside me. ‘Mighty big coincidence,’ he said.
‘That’s what I was thinking. We need to know more about this deal and the hotshot law firm.’
‘And whether one of them knows the man in black.’
‘Exactly.’
I broke off from wheelbarrow duty at four o’clock, showered, changed and went into town. Jerome had called earlier and said I needed to see him in person, not just on the telephone. When I arrived he was actually showing someone to their room in the hotel. I went to the gunsmith’s first, bought silencers for all of us, then went back to the hotel. He ushered me inside and took me into the bar area.
He led me to a table in the corner where we could watch anyone coming in. The bar had a lot of wood panelling to waist height, a long highly polished counter with high stools so that lonely folk could talk to the barman, wooden tables and chairs around the perimeter. The dog wasn’t allowed inside so he stayed dozing on the porch.
I bought two beers and, for later, a bowl of peanuts. Jerome spread a large sheet of paper over the table.
‘This is the diner,’ he said, pointing to a pencilled rectangle in the middle of the paper. ‘The bikers are camped to the east of it. According to my sister, after having a meal in the diner they gather round a big campfire and swap stories and drink, maybe smoke a little grass. There are about twenty of them now, too many for the small diner to accommodate all of them in one sitting. Not that there are many other customers – the bikers have scared them all off. They sleep in tents spread around the warmth of the fire.’ He pointed to some triangles on the right-hand side of the small circle that represented the fire. ‘Maybe if you leave it till about midnight, they will all be stoned on something or other.’
‘Where do they park the bikes?’
‘They’re lined up outside the front entrance to the diner so that they can see them in the light from the windows.’
‘What time does the diner close?’
‘Used to be around nine in the evening, but the bikers changed all that. Now it closes when they say so.’ He shrugged. ‘No regular pattern, my sister says. She’s just thankful that they don’t make trouble. And, of course, it’s all extra money. In some ways the diner has never had it so good. Done more meals than they ever had in the past.’
‘Is there anywhere we can park the jeep so it can’t be seen?’
‘The diner is on a bend. If you stop short of the bend, there’s a clump of trees. You will be out of view there.’
I nodded. A plan was forming. Risky, given the odds, but I fancied it to work.
We sipped our beer. I gave Jerome the promised hundred-dollar bill.
‘Where does your sister live?’ I asked. ‘Not the diner, presumably.’
‘She lives in a mobile home about a quarter of a mile away.’
‘Call her and tell her to stay inside tonight – that’s if they let her close up early. There’s going to be some action.’
He nodded. ‘Look after yourself,’ he said. ‘There’s a lot of them and they won’t take too kindly to whatever you plan. I’d rather like to see you sitting next to me on the porch tomorrow. And don’t forget the steak. Dog’s looking forward to it – don’t let him down.’
‘Don’t worry, old timer. I’m a hard guy to get rid of. I’ll meet you here in the morning.’
‘God willing,’ he said.
‘Reckon so.’
On the way back I stopped at the grocery store for a crate of beer and some sugar, then called at the gas station. I already had the silencers I’d bought from the gun shop – the proprietor must have thought Christmas and Thanksgiving had come all on one day since our arrival. I just about had enough time to unload, pick up Red and drive to the Retreat for six o’clock. I gave Jerome’s map to Stan and told him my basic idea – he could put the finishing touches to it. We agreed that our aim was ‘shock and awe’. The bikers wouldn’t know what hit them.
The residents were already seated at the long table when we arrived. They’d kept two seats for Red and me and the rest of the people were standing up clustered around the walls. Red sat with Cameron and I was positioned next to Fey. Lucy, as far away from me as possible, looked across at me and poked her tongue out. I felt like a heel. Maybe I should have played along with the game a bit, but I didn’t want her to take anything too seriously. I looked away from Lucy and across to Cameron. Her eyes were red: she’d been crying.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Red.
‘Some people at my school call me names. They say I’m not as good as them because I’m half Red Indian.’
‘That’s true,’ Red said. ‘You’re not as good as them.’ He smiled at her. ‘You’re better. Much better. We Native Americans were the original inhabitants of these lands. Our roots go back thousands of years. Unfortunately for the kids at your school, their history only spans a few hundred years. We have heritage, you and I, and that takes a long time to get. We can be proud of what we are. We are noble.’
She smiled at him. ‘Wait till I get back to school. I’ll put them in their place, those palefaces.’ She looked at me. ‘No offence,’ she said.
‘None taken,’ I replied.
Her face took on a pensive look, then she looked up at Red. ‘I know you’re a Comanche – and that’s not as good as Cheyenne – but I’d like to know more of our history. Will you teach me?’
‘You betcha. Give me a week to sort out a few issues surrounding the ranch and we’ll get started. Comanche brave teachum littlum Cheyenne squaw.’
Cameron beamed at him and squeezed his hand.
Rafael stood up and clapped his hands. A hush came over the room.
‘My friends,’ he said. ‘My friends of the Retreat and my neighbours who are friends, too. Welcome. Welcome to our humble house.’ His voice became grave. ‘We are gathered here because we face a life-changing decision. Do we stay or go.’
I interrupted his flow. We needed some cold hard facts to balance the emotion. ‘What have you been offered for the land?’
‘A million dollars,’ Rafael said.
‘About what it’s worth, a little less maybe,’ said Red. ‘The offer for mine was two million dollars and my spread is twice as big as yours. Seems a fair price.’
‘I agree,’ said Rafael. ‘I paid six hundred thousand for it out of my inherit
ance from my grandfather only a couple of years ago. But this is not just about money. This is our home. Do we want to give up what we have built here?’
A hand went in the air and Rafael nodded approval.
‘Where would we go?’ a young man asked.
‘Somewhere easier, I hope,’ an old man said. ‘The land here ain’t right for farming. Steers, yes – but we ain’t cowboys. Not good for the sort of crops we want. It breaks my back.’
There were nods of agreement around the table.
Cameron put her hand up and Rafael nodded.
‘I like it here,’ she said. ‘I like riding the horses, the open spaces, watching the eagles in the foothills of the mountains. I don’t mind the work; I guess we all have to do some work and the time passes quickly. I vote to stay, and if you decide to move, then I’ll ask Red if I can live with him. I’m a good rider – as good as any man, and I can help round up the cattle. Maybe cooking, too. Whatever. I won’t be a burden.’
‘That’s a big commitment you’re making for someone else,’ I said. ‘Maybe you should talk to Red about it before making any decision.’
‘I can live with that,’ said Red. ‘It would be good to have a youngster around.’ He looked her in the eye. ‘You’d have to teach me about how to be a good parent, I’ve got no experience of that. But it could work.’
Wow! That was some responsibility he was prepared to take on. I wondered if he would feel the same later when the sentimental home-loving atmosphere of the meeting was over. And when we were going to do things that night that might get us into trouble and certainly wouldn’t set a good example. Or maybe it would. Fight for what you believe in.
A young woman with flaxen hair in pigtails and a baby on her lap spoke up. ‘This is the place where I want to bring up our kids. The air is clean, the weather good, lots of space for them to roam around safely. I’ve got attached to it. I know we’re not popular in the town – long-haired hippies, they call us with scorn – and the senator would like to see the back of us, but we can keep trying to change their minds. This is our home. I’d like to stay.’