by Stephen Bly
“You don’t know our names now. But we’re leaving anyway.” Hap drove the truck up on the blacktop and headed out of the park.
Rosa sat up and handed Hap his hat. She tossed Laramie’s denim jacket behind the seat. “Do you think we can trust Erika?”
“We’ll find out at Tiny’s Café in Fort Stockton. But this whole deal sounded much more logical in your cabin.”
When they reached the junction of Highway 90, Rosa pointed to the For Sale signs on the southeast corner.
“This is barren, godforsaken country. Who would be crazy enough to buy out here?” Hap said.
“You want to hear something bizarre? A few months ago, when I had more freedom to come and go, that property sold. So, out of curiosity, I called the county recorder to see who purchased it. It was an outfit called Out West Development Corporation…”
“Of East Orange, New Jersey?” Hap replied.
“Have you heard of them?”
“When Erika and me were visitin’ by the horse trailer, she said those two pickups at your gate were registered to that same company.”
“Wait a minute.” Rosa slapped her hand down on Hap’s knee. “There’s a connection between this barren five acres on the crossroads to nowhere and those thugs at my gate?”
He studied her hand on his knee. “Kind of leaves my head spinnin’. It’s got to be oil wells or somethin’ dealin’ with a lot of money. Maybe you’re sittin’ on a gold mine.”
“Sure, a west Texas gold rush. That sandstone on the ranch is as far away from gold as you can get.”
“Diamonds, maybe?”
She let out a smooth, easy laugh that tickled Hap’s throat, then pulled her hand off his knee. “You’re getting delusional.”
“Yeah…” he let out a long, slow sigh. “But I know an old guy in the Ruby Mountains of Nevada who claims to have a platinum mine.”
“I wish I knew what Out West Development Company really developed.”
“It gives us somethin’ to ponder, don’t it, Rosa?”
The blacktop never bobbed all the way to Fort Stockton. The diesel engine roared, the radial tires hummed, and Hap and Rosa talked nonstop for almost two hours. In the pitch black of night, Texas resembled New Mexico… or Oklahoma… or even parts of Wyoming. No buildings. No lights. Little traffic. Empty land lay dormant for another century, or millennium, before development.
“Do you realize we haven’t seen a town for a hundred miles?” Rosa said.
“But it wasn’t a dull trip. I enjoyed our visit. I can’t believe all the places you’ve been. The canopy walks along the Amazon… living in a tent all winter in Alaska… savin’ those little white birds from extinction along the Great Wall of China. You make my life sound monotonous.”
“I don’t think so. You know what I like about your stories, Hap? It’s like all your exploits come to you. You just get up in the morning and adventures happen. Me, on the other hand, I travel all round the world to discover a cause, a challenge, a daring summons. And if they aren’t readily available, I have to create one.”
“Like the stand for the Rodríguez Ranch?”
“Yes…”
“Rosa, I asked you this once before. I really would like to know. What’s next on your list of things to do?”
She was quiet a moment. “I think I’d like to go back to the university, get my doctorate, and teach at the college level.”
“Why don’t you do it?”
“You know the old adage… if you can’t do it, teach it?”
“That ain’t necessarily true.”
“Yes, but right now, I can do it. I can get involved. I can work for a cause. I can deliver results. At least, I could until this family deal.” She flopped her head against the back of the seat. “Do you know I haven’t talked personal to a man for two straight hours since I was eighteen?”
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t think I’ve had a captive audience. Most times guys just walk away. They get tired of my rantings. Some think I’m too bossy and controlling. Some believe I have a messiah complex, that I’m out to save the world. What do you think? How would you describe me?”
Hap rolled down his window halfway and siphoned the night air into his lungs. “You want my honest opinion?”
“I don’t want you to lie.”
“Don’t change your strengths, but soften up once in a while. You don’t need biting rebuttals all the time.”
“Soften up?”
“Do you have a soft voice? Do you ever giggle? Do you do anything crazy like get your toenails painted and lay out on the beach in a bikini just to make the men act like dadgum fools?”
“Is that all you’re really interested in?” she snapped.
“You weren’t listenin’ to me, Rosa. I said, don’t change the strong parts. If I ever needed a gal to work alongside of me to make a project go, you’d be the one. After hearin’ about your causes and campaigns, I can’t imagine any goal you can’t achieve, if someone don’t shoot you first. But my point is, sometimes I need to crash. To unwind. To forget about my troubles… the world’s troubles… and just enjoy being a man. Don’t you ever have those kinds of days when you just want to enjoy bein’ a woman?”
“Are you talking about sex?”
“Forget it. This ain’t comin’ out right. All I’m sayin’ is that you’re way too smart and too beautiful a gal to wake up one day an old lady who’s all worn out and lonely.”
“I might be tired and alone, but I’ll have a list of accomplishments that mean something to this world.”
“That’s true, but a list don’t keep your feet warm on a cold night. All the accolades on earth can’t whisper in your ear, ‘You’re beautiful,’ on a day when you feel ugly. And a letter of commendation won’t comfort you for hours in the middle of the night when you’re depressed.”
She glanced at her watch. Her voice mellowed. “I know. I know, Hap. You’re right. But all of that is a luxury I won’t allow myself.”
“Why?”
“Because of my mother.”
Hap tried to read her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Was she hard-drivin’ and goal-oriented, too?”
“No, the opposite. Family was everything. She treated Daddy like a king. She adored the man. She turned down a career so she could stay home and raise us kids. She once told me she couldn’t bear the thought of him coming home from work and her not being there to hug him and welcome him. She fixed her hair the way he liked it best. She wore the clothes he admired. Mamma’s goal in life was to make that man happy.”
“Did she achieve her goal?”
“Apparently not. Dear Daddy left Mamma with six kids when she was thirty-four. He ran off with a ‘Budweiser girl’ less than half his age. But that was four wives ago. Mamma survived ten years after that, but I never saw her smile again. She soured into a bitter lady who looked twenty years older than she should when she died.”
“So you’ve said to yourself, There has to be more in life than adorin’ a man?”
Her reply was quiet. “I don’t have the courage to invest that much in a relationship. It’s too scary.”
“That’s about as honest a reply as I ever heard. In that case, let’s go find Tiny’s Café and challenge the tactics of the National Park Service.”
“You know what, Hap, standing up against the government is much, much easier than attempting to love someone.”
Neither said anything until they rounded the corner on Fourth Street.
“Tiny’s Café must be the best spot in town. Look at that crowd,” Hap said. “Maybe we should have agreed to meet someplace a little more private. I don’t think there’s any room in the parkin’ lot.”
“Drive around the block,” she motioned.
“I wonder who we’re lookin’ for?”
“If Erika didn’t reach anyone, I’ll make some phone calls. I know a guy in Odessa who covered a story about me one time, though we might have to drive up there.”
“What was you
r cause that time?” Hap slowed the rig.
“Brine flies.”
“Did you win?”
She grinned. “What do you think?”
“I think that’s the first candid smile I’ve seen since you spied the loaf of bread. Rosa, you got one awesome smile.”
“Well, it wasn’t this beautiful smile that saved the brine flies from extinction.”
“Yes, but it might save Rosa Rodríguez Tryor from extinction.”
“Good point, cowboy. Park by that vacant lot.” Rosa glanced in the mirror before getting out. “I should never look. I need to comb my hair.”
“Go ahead. We can take a few minutes.”
“It’s a mess, isn’t it?”
“I’ve always been attracted to thick black hair.”
“I know, I know, you told me… like your Juanita.” She stabbed a comb through her hair. “Wish I had a clean blouse. And I was told I need a bra.”
“I can’t help you with underwear, but I think there’re some clean shirts in that duffel bag.”
Rosa sorted through the shirts. “Hey, can I wear this one with the big loud flowers? I like yellow.”
“Isn’t that about the ugliest…”
“I like it.”
“So did my sis when she sent it to me. It might be huge on you.”
“I’ll tie it around my waist. Turn around and don’t look.”
Hap stared out the window.
“Can I wear your horsehair belt with the silver buckle?”
“Help yourself.”
“I know how to braid horsehair,” she said. “I learned from a ninety-year-old man when I was in prison in Cuba. Does that surprise you?”
“No, neither your braidin’ horsehair nor bein’ in a Cuban prison surprises me.”
“I suppose it would be too much to ask if you had any lipstick?”
“Actually, I do. Look in the glove compartment.”
“In this little leather box with the rock? This Wyoming bracelet looks a little small for you. Is there a story behind that?”
“A long story.”
“Oh, here it is. I can’t believe you have lipstick. I won’t ask you why.”
“And I’m not going to tell you.”
“You can look now.”
Hap spun around. “Whoa… my shirt never looked that good.”
She glanced at the rearview mirror again, licked her fingers, and mashed down her bangs.
“Okay, now I look decent enough to interview.”
“You look good enough for most anythin’.”
“Come on, cowboy, I’ll try to ignore that sexist remark. Let’s just hope they didn’t bring a camera.” She stepped out of the truck and slammed the door.
They crossed the crowded parking lot. A dark gray side door flung open. A boy about sixteen scurried out with a large, red “hot bag.”
“Is this the entrance?” Hap asked.
“This is the carry-out and delivery door. But go ahead and use it. Just hug the south wall until you get out front.”
“Do you always have a big crowd like this?” Rosa asked.
“We never do. It’s crazy.” The delivery boy jogged out to an old red Mustang convertible, then ripped out of the parking lot.
The take-out entrance brought them into the kitchen. Employees darted around like a frantic last dance. The dining room tables were full. A large group of noisy men and women crowded the front door.
Hap took Rosa’s arm as they shoved toward an opening by the front window. “How are we ever going to tell if there’s a reporter here?”
“Ask the first person with a camera or a clipboard. No one comes to a café with a clipboard but the health inspector or a reporter.”
Hap tipped his hat at a woman with short blonde hair and a tape recorder fastened to her belt. “Ma’am, are you a reporter?”
“Watch out, comin’ through!” a man boomed. As his video camera case swung toward them, Rosa squeezed against Hap’s chest to avoid getting hit.
The blonde looked them over. “Cute couple. Yeah, I’m a reporter, but I don’t do the society stuff. I’m really kind of busy right now. A potentially big story’s about to break.”
More people herded into the room and the noise level raised so high that Rosa clutched Hap as they both leaned closer to each other. “I haven’t been this crammed into a crowd since my cousin’s wedding.”
“Was her name Juanita?”
“No, LaDonna.” Rosa turned to the blonde reporter. “We were hoping to talk to you about…”
The woman’s high-pitched voice pierced into a shout. “Did I hear wedding? You two getting married? Hey, that’s sweet. Call or email the paper and ask for Gretchen Mourey. She’ll take care of the announcement.”
Hap pointed to the television camera. “Is this story a secret or can you tell us?”
The lady gawked into the jammed parking lot as a white van with satellite receiver pulled in. “Oh, not KTVT Channel 11. What are they doing way over here?”
“That’s bad?” Rosa asked.
“CBS affiliate out of Dallas. Everyone in America will know about this story before the morning papers hit the front porches.”
“What kind of story?” Hap asked.
The lady leaned close enough for him to smell the pepperoni on her breath. “There’s a rumor of a Waco or Ruby Ridge kind of uprising at some remote place in west Texas called the Rodríguez Ranch. Almost a civil war, but no one can find out where it is. The state and federal governments deny everything. We received emails circulating from inside the compound that several of the combatants risked their lives to storm past government agents. They’re going to meet us here within the hour and give proof of what’s going on.”
Hap stared at Rosa. “Now, that ain’t exactly…”
“Geraldo’s here!” someone shouted.
Rosa tugged on Hap’s arm. “We’ve got to go. I have a bunch of bride books to look at.”
“What?” he stammered.
“Come on, sweetie.” Rosa tugged him through the kitchen to the delivery entrance and into the parking lot.
Hap stopped her in the parking lot with his hands on her shoulders. “What are you doin’, runnin’ away? The place is crammed with reporters. Isn’t that what you want?”
She rested her hands on his. “No. I don’t want this. They aren’t looking for the truth, they’re looking for sensationalism.”
He began to rub her shoulders. “Erika must be majorin’ in public relations to round up this many.”
“I think she’s more into creative writing. Never underestimate the power of a good internet lie.”
He dropped his hands to his side. “What are we goin’ to do?”
“I don’t know, Hap.” She wove her hand into his. “I wanted to talk to one or two people in private. This is a feature story, not a tabloid front page. I’m still in shock about this mob.”
“Chalk it up to instant messaging, twenty-four-hour news radio and TV, and a slow news day. Let’s give them what they want.”
She wound her arm around his waist. “I’m not going to lie.”
“No lies. Put your old shirt on. Pull your hair back. Wipe off the lipstick. Mess your bangs. Smear a little dirt on your face. I’ll bounce this rig right into the parking lot. Then jump up in the bed of the truck and tell the absolute truth. No embellishments. You don’t need to please them all. Just get one or two to take the story and run with it.”
“You’re not going to feed me to the wolves and leave, are you? I might need a fast exit.”
“I’ll keep the truck runnin’.”
While Rosa slipped back into her grubby shirt, Hap unhitched the trailer. Her hair mussed up and cheeks smudged, she motioned to him. “What do you think?”
“That should do it. But there’s a certain kind of beauty that cain’t be hid. Are you sure your name is Rosa?”
“You confusing me with a boyhood dream?”
“Do you mind?”
She leaned over
and kissed his ear. “No.”
Hap steered the truck around the block, then roared into the parking lot with squealing brakes. Dozens of reporters and cameras converged on them. Hap ushered Rosa to the back of the truck. He straddled the side rail while she tried to calm the media frenzy and answer questions.
“How many people have been killed?”
“None.”
“Is the FBI involved?”
“No.”
“Are children being abused in the compound?”
“Of course not. There aren’t any children. There is just a cabin. No compound. Why would you even think to ask that?”
“Is it true all of you agreed to a suicide pact, if the government decides to move in?”
“Pact? I’m the only one there.”
“Is it true your surface-to-air rockets brought down an army helicopter?”
“That’s absurd.”
“What about the rumor that a Colombian drug cartel uses the Rodríguez Ranch for a drop zone?”
“Look, give me a chance to explain…”
“Then, it is true?”
“NO!” she shouted.
“What about the charge that you’re one of the wives of a radical Mormon fundamentalist?”
Hap stood up and raised his hands. “Quiet,” he shouted. “Rosa came here to make a statement. Give her a chance. Then you can ask questions.”
“Are you her husband?”
“Her brother?”
“Her lover?”
Hap reached over the side of the truck, grabbed the man by the tie and yanked him straight up. “I will turn this man loose when you remain silent long enough to listen to Rosa.”
Twenty-two minutes later, everyone had dispersed except Hap and Rosa. The only vehicles in the parking lot were his pickup and the delivery kid’s red Mustang.
Rosa plopped down on the rail next to Hap. “That went well. Normally, it takes me an hour to chase off reporters.”
“They were lookin’ for somethin’ else.”
“You said to tell them the truth. Didn’t they believe me?”
“Oh, they believe you. That’s the problem.”