by JL Curtis
The old man said, “Yeah field medicine by a Thai Seal with me bent over a table in a lounge on a Chinese ship with twenty-two naked women watching and my ass hanging out for everybody to see.”
Felicia’s laughter pealed out and Trey rumbled again. “Sure, John, like I believe that.”
The old man shrugged. “Okay, think what you want, since you don’t want to hear the truth. About a half hour later, we were hoisted off and flown to Bangkok, I’m guessing an hour or so total there. They landed on the roof and I woke up the next night. I was out for quite a while. As far as my being here now, it was the easiest way to get me out of Thailand. Otherwise, I’d probably still be there waiting for my ass to heal enough to be able to sit in an airline seat. ”
Trey shook his head. “Damn Thai doctors chicken scratch is almost as bad as ours. Who was your doctor there?”
“Don’t know his name, but he looked like a Buddha statue. Don’t think he ever said his name.”
Trey sniffed. “Well I don’t see any blood seeping through your pants, your vitals are okay,
and you need a bath. But I think you can last another three hours, so I’m going to rig a drip and get some more antibiotics in you between here and Fort Stockton.”
The ambulance slowed and bumped onto the ramp at Carlsbad. Trey hopped out and directed the ambulance to back up near the airstair and had it stop.
Matt came through the FBO office carrying the old man’s bags, and gave them to the co-pilot as Trey helped the old man down from the ambulance. The Corpsman made a quick pass through the back, and at a nod from Trey, and a quiet comment from Matt, pulled away to return to Pendleton. Trey picked up the old man, much to his embarrassment and carried him up the airstair and gently set him on the entry to the Lear. Holding him up with one hand, he reached back and pulled two canes from the cubby and gave them to the old man. “Okay, ease yourself back there and lay on your stomach, I need to make sure you aren’t putting any pressure on the wound, and we’ll get this show on the road.”
Felicia came onboard, and bent to gently kiss the old man on the cheek. “You get well, Senor Cronin. I want to see you at the wedding in three months.”
She backed out and Matt said, “I’m not going to kiss you, but I do want to hear the rest of the story. I need to be able to give Aaron a ration when he gets back.”
The old man nodded, and Matt backed out as well. Trey closed the airstair, and strapped the old man in after he started an IV as the airplane taxied out.
The old man was slept out after the flight from Utapao, so Trey finally got the story out of the old man, and marveled at the dispassionate, clinical descriptions the old man used. Trey wondered yet again what the old man had done in Vietnam and other places. He shuddered, thinking to himself, this is one man I never want mad at me or my family.
Trey checked the old man’s vitals again and decided to change the subject. “John, I am gonna be so damn glad when this wedding is done. Beverly is on the phone every damn night either with Jesse or Juanita or who the hell knows. Jesse’s asked her to be a bridesmaid, and she’s over the moon; but how many damn phone calls and emails and texts does it take?”
The old man said, “Trey, best thing to do is keep your hands and feet clear and just let them go. If you try to do anything, you’re gonna bring the wrath of every damn one of them down on you and all of us. They’re worse than a damn den of baby rattlers and twice as deadly right now.”
“Dammit John,” Trey grumbled. “I was hoping you’d give me some advice based on your long years of experience.”
“Trey, my only advice is go on vacation until the wedding day; trust me, you won’t even be missed!”
The PA came on and the co-pilot said they were descending into Fort Stockton and would be on the ground in ten minutes.
As they taxied in, the pilot came on the PA. “Looks like quite the reception committee out there. Bout the only thing missing is a fire truck.”
The old man pounded his head gently on the seat. “Dammit, I knew I should have stayed in Bangkok.”
Trey just rumbled and released the strap so the old man could start getting up to get off the airplane.
After the old man got to a sitting position and the airplane came to a stop, the old man said, “Trey you will not carry me off this damn airplane. I will go down the airstair on my own. If I fall I fall, but you will not carry me, do you understand?”
Trey looked solemnly at the old man. “John, I won’t embarrass you, but at least let me get on the ground first in case you fall, alright?”
“Alright, give me the damn canes and put my crutches where I can get them at the door.”
Trey nodded and helped the old man up, then moved the crutches to the door, and climbed off the airplane. The old man got to the door and almost went back to the couch. Jesse was standing anxiously at the bottom of the airstair holding Trey’s arm; arrayed behind them were Doc Truesdale, Angelina, the sheriff, Billy Moore, Clay, Major Wilson, and Bucky.
The old man managed the stairs and Jesse reached out, but didn’t touch him. “Papa?”
“Jesse, I’m alright, I only got shot in the ass, not in the head.”
She hugged him gently and started crying; he tried to hug her and ended up dropping the crutch. Trey slid in and supported him and he held her.
Doc Truesdale finally stepped in. “Jesse, stop that shit, I need to get this old fart to the hospital so I can see how bad those damn Thai witch doctors screwed him up.”
Jesse snuffed and laughed. “Okay, Doc.”
There was a babble of voices as everybody crowded around and asked how he was doing, what happened, and Doc finally yelled, “Enough dammit! Get the hell outta the way so I can get John to the hospital. Y’all can come visit him in four that is F-O- U- R hours.”
Trey, Doc Truesdale and Angelina got the old man over to the ambulance and on the stretcher. Trey and the medic loaded him in, and Doc Truesdale and Angelina got in with him. The ambulance left for the hospital and everyone crowded around Trey, who could only say the old man had made the trip well, and he didn’t know anything about what had happened other than what was in the medical records, which he couldn’t discuss because of HIPAA.
Trey climbed back on the Lear and left for Dallas, and everybody else adjourned to the Sheriff’s Department. Jose broke out more coffee cups and everybody talked about how the old man had looked until the conversation trailed off. Jesse called Matt to let him know the old man was home and told Matt she’d call with an update after she talked to him.
Finally, everyone could stand it no longer, and they piled into their respective cars and descended on the hospital. Angelina met them at the nurses’ station and said, “Five minutes and then it’s two at a time, okay? And you get ten minutes and the next two can go in.”
It was almost comical as the men tried to decide who would get to go in first with Jesse; Billy finally prevailed, being as how he was the lawyer and all. His justification was he had to “warn” his client about all these law enforcement types that were going to try to get him to admit to something.
Jesse and Billy went in as Doc came out, and Billy broke out laughing as he saw the old man lying on his stomach with a tent over his butt.
“Fuck you, Billy. It ain’t polite to laugh at the injured,” growled the old man.
“Hmmm,” Billy said. “I seem to remember you laughing your ass off at me when I got shot at Dak To and you had to feed me because both arms were in casts. So I’m gonna laugh!”
“Papa, are you okay?” Jesse asked.
The old man said, “I’ll be fine, and Aaron is okay too.”
Jesse stuttered, “Wha… Aaron… How…”
“Well, I ran into him while I was there, and he’s doing fine and looking forward to seeing you soon.”
Jesse just sat, totally confused. Billy said, “John, seriously be very careful what you say. I don’t want to have to bail your ass out again.”
The old man tried to roll his sh
oulders, but just looked over at Billy. “It’s all taken care of, Billy. Fibbies are involved, I’m cleared on the shooting I did, and we took down a Chinese smuggling operation that they’ve missed for two years. Twenty-four million in heroin, some of it headed here to the Zetas, and twenty- two women rescued. Trust me, this one is all good.”
Now it was Billy’s turn to goggle at the old man. Jesse reached over and grabbed his hand, “Papa, we are going to talk.”
Angelina came in and said, “Okay you’re done, out, out!”
As Jesse and Billy left, she whispered to Jesse, “Stick around.” Jesse nodded.
Jose and Bucky came in next, and Bucky said, “John, I got the prelim report from Hearns via my DEA guy there; that info on the heroin routes is going to pay off for us. You done good! And I’ve shown it to Jose, Clay and Hank Wilson, but I’m not letting any copies out. Glad that Marine that’s gonna marry Jesse didn’t take one.”
“Bucky,” the old man said, “you don’t know how close he came, and he saved my butt by taking out the Chinese guard that shot me in the ass before he could get something more important. But I’m just hoping my name doesn’t get put out there again… dammit”
“John,” Jose said. “I’m going to consider this a line-of-duty injury, so we’ll cover all the medical expenses and any rehab you need. You take whatever time off you need, okay?”
“Thanks Jose, but I can cover…”
“Stop that shit, John. Just stop it.”
Angelina came in and ran them out, and escorted the two Rangers in. Clay deferred to the major, who said, “Damn fine work again John, and I’m truly sorry you took one in the ass, but from what I read, you saved that little boy, so that should count for something.”
The old man just nodded, and Clay said, “John, I found it really interesting that these guys are using damn near the same routines we’re seeing here. How do you account for that?”
The old man huffed, “Well, whether we like it or not, it is a global business. They are passing what works around the world, and you gotta remember, the Chinese are the original smugglers. This Tong out of Hong Kong is tied to LA, Chicago, Panama, Mexico, New York and who the hell knows where else. And they are using legit businesses as cover, which I don’t think we’ve seen here yet, at least not to the levels they do it. And they had some folks pretty high in the Thai Government, Police and Port Authority involved.”
Clay said he and Ronni would come by tomorrow, and they left after congratulating the old man again.
Everybody had left when Angelina called Jesse back to the nurses’ station, and told her to go back in.
She sat with the old man as he told her about running into Aaron and parts of the story, leaving out how close he’d come to getting shot in the back. He dropped off to sleep and Jesse pulled the sheet up, gently kissed him on the cheek and left the room.
The next morning Francisco, Juanita and Ronni all showed up at 0800, much to a grumbling Doc Truesdale’s displeasure. He made them wait until he’d finished rounds, and then told them ten minutes each.
The next morning Jose, Jesse and Clay all showed up and Doc threw up his hands. “Dammit this is not a revolving door; I’m going to kick his ass loose this afternoon so I can get some peace and quiet around here!”
Jesse picked the old man up at 1600 and drove him home, helped him into the house and turned his care over to Juanita. Rex, knowing something wasn’t right, stayed close by the old man, but never bumped him or jumped up like he normally did. Francisco and Toby kept things running smoothly and Juanita kept him fed and medicated until he was able to get up and around.
36 Winding Down
The old man slowly recovered his strength as he healed, and vowed never to get shot in the ass again. He now truly understood the literal meaning of pain in the ass. He was working on his second rubber donut after Rex ate the first one, thinking it was a play toy. And he’d moved to using the laptop standing at the kitchen counter to do his email and ranch business, much to Juanita’s displeasure. She complained that he was always underfoot, and drinking way too much coffee, and that he was even grumpier than normal.
Sleep had been an issue for a while, too. Every time he rolled over, he woke himself up. But slowly he got back in the swing of things, and finally one morning looked at Francisco across the breakfast table.
“Francisco, I think we need to go check the cows up in the North 40 and see if we can move some of them off the creek and down one pasture to the south. I didn’t like what I saw from the road yesterday, it looks like they’re eating the grass all the way down to the roots, and that’s not good for spring grasses.”
Francisco nodded. “Okay, John, I’ll get Toby to saddle up Buttercup for you, can’t take any chances with your butt can we?”
Jesse laughed and Juanita coughed to cover her laughter, as Toby said, “Okay Mr. John, Buttercup, she will be ready.”
The old man just glared at Francisco and muttered under his breath, but didn’t countermand him.
Jesse looked at him. “Papa, be careful, you’re not as young as you used to be, and I’m tired of putting up with your grouchiness. And I need those figures on the fuel for last year, and depreciation on equipment and hardware for taxes, that crap is all due in two weeks.”
The old man said, “Okay, fine, I’ll be careful, and you’ll have all that stuff tonight. And talk about grouch—you’re not exactly miss sweetness and light around here either!”
Toby, sensing an argument brewing, bolted saying, “I go get horses ready.” And was out the door.
“Alright you two, stop it,” Juanita said. “I won’t have any of this at the damn breakfast table, and yes, John, you have been a grouchy old asshole the last couple of weeks. Now get the hell out of my kitchen and take your grouch out on the cows.”
Meekly, the old man said, “Yes, ma’am.”
The old man and Francisco rinsed their dishes and headed out the door, realizing they were in trouble. Rex showed his loyalty following the old man out. Jesse and Juanita said “men” at the exact same time, and both started laughing.
Jesse said, “Juanita, I don’t know what in the hell I was thinking with the May wedding, and my having to do taxes both here and at work. I’m so damn frazzled I don’t know up from down, and having to put in my forty hours a month of patrol is now burning the candle at both ends and in the middle.”
Juanita smiled. “Welcome to growing up, Jesse. It doesn’t get any better when you have to deal with a husband in addition to your own life. You have a life too, and it’s going to be an adjustment to have to start balancing those things.”
“Juanita, why didn’t you go back to work?” Jesse asked. “I know you’re a certified RN, and I would think you could have made a heck of a lot more that the pittance Papa gives you here.”
Juanita said gently, “Jesse there are reasons, those are not for you to know; but I will tell you that I could not ask for better than what we have here. John has done more for us than you will ever know until after we are gone. I will not speak of this again, understood?”
“Yes ma’am,” Jesse said. “ Well, I guess I better trot my tired ass off to the office. If I get in early maybe, just maybe, I can get some work done before the BS starts.”
“Okay,” Juanita said. “Just remember Saturday morning we’re having another meeting on the wedding and Padre will be here along with your preacher.”
Jesse nodded and headed for the door and work.
Juanita decided to bake a blackberry cobbler for dessert as a peace offering for both John and Jesse, and started making a list for a trip to the store.
The old man, Francisco and Toby mounted up and trotted up the trail to the North 40, bantering back and forth and with Francisco trying to teach Toby Spanish. Considering that Toby barely spoke English, and his native tongue was Degar, it was quite a challenge, but Francisco truly liked the little Montagnard and was truly in awe at his ability with the horses.
Toby was up on a hor
se he called Diablo, blacker than the ace of spades and twice as mean, but in Toby’s hands he was as docile as Buttercup. Old man Johannsen had given Diablo to John, because he was afraid the horse would kill somebody, and he just wanted to be rid of him. As far as they could determine Diablo was a cross between a Mustang stallion and a pure bred Arab that bred truer to the Mustang than Arab line.
That reminded the old man he owed Toby another bonus for the last horse he’d broken to halter. He drug out his wheel book and wrote himself a note.
Once they got up to the North 40, they started hazing cattle out of the bottoms, and true to form the old bell cow trotted to the fore and then moseyed south almost as if she knew what the old man wanted.
They noted three cows and three heifers that were about to calve and decided to drive them on down to the corral at the house to save time and trouble later. The old man thought about all the things that needed to be done and groaned, there were sure as hell going to be some long nights coming.
It seemed like the damn cows just loved to calve in the middle of the night, and they’d either drop every other night or half one night, half the next. He made a mental note to check with the Vet on his availability for the next couple of weeks, and also to call the extension program at the University to come out and record the ear tags, birth dates, sex, markings and tag numbers. He and Francisco discussed whether or not to castrate any bulls and that precipitated the ongoing argument over Dystocia scores and Body Condition Scores.
The old man thought all three of the cows were sevens, and the three heifers were sixes, but as usual Francisco was one number lower. Finally, the old man said, “Okay Francisco, you win, better get out the calf jack and lube that sucker up. And there is a new Dillon dynamometer in the barn, so you might as well test pull and see if it’s going to work.”
“Already found it,” Francisco replied. “I ordered a new case of lube, we were down to one bottle, and that was two years old. I also found some skinning gloves that go to the shoulder, so I ordered a case of them.”
The old man nodded. “Francisco I’m just being a pain in the ass, sorry. I guess this last one shook me more than I thought. Between that and Jesse getting married, I’m about as bad as a damn cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”