by JL Curtis
He was interrupted by Yogi’s woofing and realized he was still standing at the door. Sighing, he walked into the house and flipped the lights on. Yogi turned around and paced back toward the kitchen as the old man slowly followed him. The old man rustled around in the fridge and found what Olivia had left for him. He dumped it into a plate and heated it in the microwave, while he started the coffee pot.
After he fed Yogi, he sat down and ate supper, then poured himself another cup of coffee. Debating whether or not to have a piece of pie, he heard the photocell bong, and eased toward the front door. Yogi barked as usual, but it wasn’t an intruder bark, so the old man cracked the front door. Seeing Clay’s car in the drive, he stepped out on the porch as Yogi bounded down the steps to go welcome Clay.
Clay cuffed Yogi around the head and played with him for a minute, then stepped up on the porch. “Hey, John, hope you don’t mind me dropping by. I’m on my way back from Austin and I needed a pit stop.”
The old man chuckled. “Oh, that’s what I’m good for now? A pit stop on the road of life?”
Clay laughed. “Hell, at our age, a pit stop is an important part of life!”
“Yeah, but what happened to the world is our oyster, and we can piss anywhere?”
“You know that was back in the days when there was a lot less traffic, and we weren’t needing to piss every two hours. ‘Sides, I haven’t seen you since Christmas, and Ronni wanted me to see if you were doing okay.”
The old man led Clay into the kitchen. “Pie? I think its blueberry. And there should be some Blue Bell in the freezer.”
Clay replied, “You know I’ll never turn down pie.”
The old man served the pie and poured two more cups of coffee. He filled Yogi’s toy with some treats and dropped it to Yogi, who promptly flopped down and proceeded to try to get to the treats. Clay wouldn’t be put off and asked again, “How are you doing?”
The old man sighed. “Honestly, pretty shitty. The house is empty, Toby, Francisco and Juanita are dead, and Jesse’s gone.” Shrugging, he unconsciously rubbed a finger over one of the bullet gouges in the table top. “I’m almost to the point I hate coming back here at night. It’s just not right, not sleeping real good, either. I’m going to get out tomorrow and work some cows, simply so I don’t sit here and mope all day. I know my temper is a lot shorter, and I keep waiting for the cartel to make another try at me. I mean, I’ve always been pretty much a loner, but now I’m afraid of some innocents getting into the line of fire and I don’t want that to happen.”
Clay replied, “John, if you give into them, they win. And it sounds like they’re winning right now. You’re a better man than that. Hell, what you’ve been through and dealt with in your life-”
The old man leaned back, looking tired. “Yeah, but that was all on me. Not on Juanita or Toby and damn sure not on Jesse. Juanita and Francisco had their own battles they fought, and they sure as shit shouldn’t have died in one of mine. Toby? He was just trying to make a new life. This was his way out of a bad situation in North Carolina. And Jesse? She didn’t deserve any of that! I was the damn target, not them! They just barely missed me the last time, and that was only by luck!”
Clay set his coffee mug down on the table. “You and I both know the cartels have been making it personal for a few years now. They know if they light up the family, they’re going to get a response out of the original target. I don’t want to know what you did in Mexico, I really don’t, but from the little things I’ve picked up, you’ve got to admit Francisco got his back in spades. And Harrington, well, he saved your life. Jesse’s out from under now too. Are you going to throw all that away?”
“I don’t want to, but at the same time I don’t want anybody else to die in one of my battles, Clay. If they get me, they get an old man. Hell, I never thought I’d get out of ‘Nam alive. And Jesse’s the only one left. If she dies, well, that’s it for the Cronin line. I don’t want that to happen because of me!”
Clay nodded. “I see your point. But if you try to protect everybody, you’re going to open yourself up even worse. Then you’ll be an easy target. Hell, you are now. Not sleeping, you’re off your game. Your situation awareness is shot and you’re not thinking clearly.”
The old man thumped a fist on the table. “I know, but dammit, I feel like I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t. I’ve got enough people haunting my ass in my dreams, without adding any more innocent people.”
***
In Cozumel, Montoya had finally had enough of waiting for Commandate Ruiz to find out the identity of the shooters who had killed his cartel guards and caused the coyotes to lose the Muslims they were smuggling across the border. Even worse, Montoya had been forced to refund the $50,000 to the Middle Easterners who paid for the smuggling.
“The El Paso phone,” Montoya demanded. Raul found it and handed it to Montoya, who dialed and shook his head when Raul started to turn on the recorder. When it was answered, Montoya told the man on the other end to get someone into the cleaning crew for the CBP offices at Marfa and leave them there until they had the names of the shooters.
After listening for a minute, he ended the call and flipped the phone back to Raul. “Maybe now we will get answers. Those two bastardos cost us the possibility of five million dollars in smuggling fees. I want them dead!”
***
Saturday morning, the old man was up and out the door at sunrise. Saddling Diablo, he rode up to the North Forty and rousted the cows out of the bottom and moved them to the high pasture. He rode back to the ranch house after noon, a sense of accomplishment buoying his mood. Diablo was drooping a bit, so the old man took extra time to give him a bait of corn and molasses as he curried him. Yogi was content to just lie on the barn floor and pant. After the old man finished with Diablo, he cleaned the saddle and bridle, and hung the saddle blanket out to air out. As he finally walked back to the house, he realized he was sore. That meant he hadn’t been getting enough time in the saddle and he vowed to change that.
After fixing a sandwich, the old man went to the office and pulled one of the M-16s out of the safe, along with four magazines. Hiking down the creek bottom, he pulled three targets out of the old pump house and set them out at fifty and one hundred yards. Walking back to the bench, he checked the M-16 and loaded a mag. Checking his ear protection and glasses, and putting the doggie ears on Yogi, he proceeded to start working on basic shooting skills with the M-16, easing back into it and stopping regularly to go check his targets. By the fourth magazine, he was back into shooting and moving. He did a series of rapid-fire head shots to finish the last magazine, then drew his 1911 and put a magazine of 230 grain hollow points down range, four at the fifty yard and four at the one hundred yard target.
He dropped the mag and quickly reloaded the 1911, reminding himself to top off the mag when he got back to the house. Walking down to the targets, he looked at the last magazine worth of shooting and was happy with what he’d done. He had put three of four .45 rounds into the head, but missed the fourth on the fifty yard target, and on the one hundred yard target, he’d placed all four inside the 8 ring on the target. Nodding to himself, he counted his rounds, and was happy to have only dropped three shots, well four counting the .45 out of 128 rounds.
Picking up the targets, he stripped them down and put the backers into the pump house. Climbing out of the creek bottom, the old man was puffing a little bit, and resolved to do more walking and exercise. Age wasn’t an excuse for getting lazy.
After he’d cleaned the rifle and pistol, the old man decided he deserved a treat. He took a shower, and fed Yogi, then put him in the kennel, apologizing to Yogi and telling him he just wouldn’t be accepted at the restaurant.
The old man drove back into town and finally decided on Alfredo’s for dinner. The young lady at the register told him to sit anywhere, so he found a table that was sort of hidden, but still gave him a good view of the front door. After perusing the menu, he decided on the enchilada di
nner and iced tea.
The service was quick, the food excellent and the old man decided to have the sopapillas with butter and honey for desert. They hit the spot, and the old man was whistling under his breath as he paid and walked out into the night.
The more he thought about what Clay had said last night, the more the old man realized Clay was correct. He was letting the cartel win. Screw them, he thought. I may be old, but I ain’t dead yet. And if they take me, it’s going to be standing on my own two feet. Not cowering in a corner.
Driving back out to the house, the old man felt as good as he’d felt in a long time. After he fed Yogi, the old man took a long shower and headed off to bed.
The next morning he woke up having slept better than he had since the attack. He decided it was time to get back to living and let the chips fall where they may.
Dinner
Jesse cussed as the alarm clock went off, and she rolled gingerly out of bed. Staring blearily at the clock, she confirmed it really said 5:00AM. Staggering down the hallway, she punched the brew button on the coffee pot with an unaccustomed vengeance and leaned on the counter. Boo Boo padded up and sat beside her and cocked her head up at Jesse. Looking down, Jesse said, “Yes, Boo, Momma is crazy. Whatever possessed me to do this damn BBQ is beyond me.”
Matt answered and scared the hell out of Jesse, “Maybe because you appreciated what you and they have been through. Is the coffee done yet?”
Jesse looked at the coffee pot. “I can probably get two cups out of it.” Saying that, she pulled the carafe and poured a cup for Matt and a half-cup for herself, then stuffed the carafe back into the machine. “I’m sorry you’re having to get up this early on a Saturday, Matt! I never thought this would blow out of proportion like it did.”
Matt sipped his coffee and shrugged. “Hey, good cause. ‘Nuff said. I’ll jump through the shower and head on out and get the smoker started and the brisket, chickens and sausage on.”
Jesse came around the counter and hugged him. “I really appreciate it, Matt, and I know I couldn’t have done it without you and Felicia, Toad and the guys. Maybe I should have just had it catered.”
Matt rounded on her. “No! That would have been the easy way out. This, what you are doing, will be more important to those guys than a catered steak dinner. Trust me!” With that, he disappeared down the hall, leaving Jesse slightly stunned.
Jesse poured herself the rest of a cup, and then took Boo Boo out for a quick walk so she could do her business. Matt was pulling out as she walked back into the apartment and Jesse hurried to get a shower and collect the things she needed and follow him to the pavilion they’d reserved on the beach. As she showered, she suddenly felt sick, and threw up. She figured it was just nerves. She hoped it wasn’t a stomach bug. She decided to ignore it and got Boo Boo into her crate in the back of Aaron’s truck, then finished loading the pots, beans, seasonings, plates, disposable silverware and cups.
Driving quickly onto base, she got to the pavilion just as Matt finished getting the big smoker backed into position. He connected the propane tanks to provide the main heat, then quickly loaded charcoal and got that started as he added the mesquite chips.
Jesse popped open the coolers Uncle Billy had brought yesterday, and grabbed the bag of seasoning the Ramos brothers had sent with the two briskets, chicken and sausages. The light wasn’t really good, so Jesse pulled her flashlight out of her pocket, and made sure she was putting the right spices on the right meat. Hefting the briskets into the smoker, she turned to Matt, “Those damn things must weigh twelve or fourteen pounds apiece. I hope they’ll be done in ten hours! I’m going to go ahead and put the rub on the chicken, but I don’t want to put it on yet. The whole chickens need about six hours but the breasts and the sausages only need about three hours.”
Matt grunted, and said, “Did you bring coffee?”
Jesse slapped her forehead. “Damn! No, I knew there was something I was forgetting. I’m sorry, Matt!”
Matt shook his head and laughed. “Okay, make a quick check and see what else is missing, then I’ll head back to the apartment and get it. I’ve got to go pick up the coolers for the beer and get that iced down and I’ve got to make sure Felicia is doing okay with the tamales.”
Jesse pawed through the bags and the truck and finally turned to Matt. “Uh, the only other thing missing is the long leash for Boo Boo. Dammit, I’m surprised I didn’t forget my head this morning.”
Matt chuckled. “Okay, I’ll get it and some more coffee too. I think we’re going to need it!”
***
At noon, Jesse flopped down on a picnic bench and sipped a coke, glad to be off her feet for a few minutes. Boo Boo sat next to Jesse nuzzling her hand, and Jesse reached down and ruffled her fur. “You’ve been a good girl today Boo, but this isn’t going to be an everyday thing.” Boo Boo barked and whined as if she understood and Jesse laughed. “Good girl!” Reaching across the table, she picked a dog treat out of the bag and made Boo Boo sit, then gave her the treat. Just then her cell rang. Pushing the speaker, she answered, “Hello?”
“Jesse, where’s this dinner going to be?”
“Uncle Billy?”
Billy said, “Yes, me. Now where’s this dinner going to be? After I hauled all that food out to you, do you think I’m going to miss it?”
Jesse rolled her eyes. “Uncle Billy, it’s not a dinner per se, it’s at a picnic pavilion on Camp Pendleton for a bunch of Marines.”
Billy replied, “Then it’s better than a dinner. ‘cept for the Marines.”
Jesse bristled, “Don’t you dare, Uncle Billy.”
Billy laughed and said in a hurt tone, “Jesse, Jesse, do you think I’d really do something like that?”
Jesse said, “In a damn heartbeat, Uncle Billy! I’ve seen you and Papa get after Aaron and Matt.”
Billy chuckled into the phone. “Okay, I’ll be nice. Now where on Pendleton is this place?”
Jesse gave him directions and Billy told her he’d see them around five. As he hung up, Toad pulled up in his Excursion and hopped out. “Felicia called and said you probably needed a break and a chance to clean up. I’m here to relieve you, ma’am!” Toad popped to attention and saluted her, making Jesse giggle.
Toad handed her a McDonald’s bag. “And she said you probably hadn’t eaten either, so here’s a burger and fries.” At that Jesse’s stomach gurgled and she realized she’d only had a couple of cups of coffee and a coke since this morning.
Jesse gobbled the burger and shared the French fries with Boo Boo. Afterward, she stood and stretched. “Okay, I’m going to go back and get a quick shower and I’ll be back. Everything is cooking, and you don’t need to do anything but make sure it stays at around two hundred fifty degrees. In about an hour, you might add some more hickory to the pan over the charcoal.”
Toad nodded and said, “Got it, ma’am. Now go clean up.”
Jesse laughed. “Yes, sir! Can I leave Boo with you?”
“Sure. I’ll watch her.”
***
By four, Matt, Felicia and Toad had the tables covered, and a rudimentary serving line set up. Ross and Marlene Eberhart, with Darlene in tow, pulled up shortly thereafter, and the ‘Lenes pitched in as Ross pulled Matt aside. Dr. Fischer and his wife parked and walked over, closely followed by Petty Officer Hawthorne and Chief Holt and his wife. Jesse was starting to get worried about the guys, who were the real reason for doing this, until a string of cars and trucks pulled in.
Wojokowski and his wife, Baldwin and a date, Lopez, and Corporals Martin, Forsythe, and Handfield, all now graduated and back on full duty arrived together. Sergeant Parker and his wife, Sergeant Al Bakir and his wife, and Gunnery Sergeant Plummer and his wife and teenage daughter all arrived almost simultaneously.
Doc being Doc, he was circulating and while introducing his wife, he manhandled some of his patients, seeing if their joints were healing properly. As Jesse was introduced to Doc’s wife, Melissa, he poked and prodd
ed her leg.
She saw another car pull in. Billy Moore walked slowly toward the pavilion and casually flipped his pony tail out of his jacket as he stepped into the pavilion.
Jesse hugged him and said, “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming, but I’m glad you’re here. How did you get on base?”
Billy said, “I have my ways. Besides, I don’t think anybody here knows how to actually cut brisket right.”
Jesse laughed. “You’re probably right.” Turning around, Jesse wolf-whistled to get everyone’s attention. “Hey everybody! This is my Uncle Billy. He drove down from LA. He’s ex-Army, so don’t believe a word he says. It’s all lies!”
Everyone laughed and Billy waved to everyone, as he proceeded to the smoker. Shaking hands with Matt and Toad and then hugging Felicia, he flipped the doors open, speared the first brisket and pulled it onto the cutting board. Matt began taking out the chickens and sausage as Felicia started taking the trays of tamales out of the far side of the smoker. Toad started uncovering the beans and the coleslaw Felicia had also made. Billy expertly carved the first brisket, and then started working on the second as people started filtering through the line and getting food.
‘Lopes’ Lopez looked at the tamales and started crying, prompting Felicia to pull him gently to the side and talk softly to him. Doc Fischer’s wife, Melissa, also came over and between the two of them got him calmed down and eating.
Chief Holt whispered, “Doc’s wife is a clinical psychiatrist and professor at UCSD. I think she donates a lot of time to our folks up here. She’s been working with Lopez since you told me about his issues.”
Jesse nodded. “Yeah, Lopes is having a hard time. I just hope this didn’t set him off.”