Sequoia Trail-A Bo Jon Littlehorse P.I. Novel. Second Edition

by Danny E. Allen

The ‘Carpet-Moon’ and gas-rigs

  Gulf of Mexico, shoreline storms and Mississippi-mastings…

  …David wasn’t ready to see the end of his journey. He had a small-sum of money and a new-car that had began to show signs of wear… His new-name was Dutch Delman. He’d passed official identification through government-registry. He knew all the access-codes to set himself-up. So Dutch Delman settled-along the Gulf coast in a nice seaside oil-rig town. Being trained, he re-enter the oil production-business. Not many questions were asked. He was hired within the week… With what little he had, he set himself in a small-apartment. He was re-motivated. A former-enlistee, was prepared for re-assignment-on notice, within days. Which had, for so long, been David’s status… He was-made for that line of work. It suited-him. Now, work had not been so crucial, exact or frugal. It-required essential, competence and skill yet noting; like the duties-of Eliting. …As the circumstantial, evidence of composure; he-was adept and attentive. The off-coast oil-rig crews flew-out by copter at 4:30 a.m. and came in around 6 p.m. Developing a routine was not hard for David he was often the first to board and last to disembark. Moving up in the ranks, contentiously…

  Yet peril was still number one-priority which-in the last six-months he was skilled. Getting paid and saving money was fast and efficient-by being adhering to contentious, professionalism… By-definition, he did well in-compliance. Bearing a unique-inclinations, aptitude and proffering. He stayed a stable worker often having time to relax before going-home. He was building, basing and progressing-in achieving a high-margin status… He-was stable, studious and high-standard in sufficiency. Everything, was done-by the book. He-was getting a reputation. None of his co-workers thought less-of him. The rig lay in the Mississippi Delta region one of the region’s tenable, oil-depots… Rigging had gone on there since the ‘30’s. Gulf oil was rich; over 30 million barrels a year was normal. Off-shore was different then dry land which provided stable ground to transport sea-floor oil, required constant monitoring, efficient and methodical off-loading with a credible crew… David traveled by copter which reminded and encouraged him as, in other times. As he developed intent and competence his abilities-grew; enabling him to function admirably, with a proactive-drive… Still what lay behind, was in-evitable.

  He kept his mind on his-work. Availing certain, instances now-distance. The work kept his mind working; thus, enacts ability… Apprising proof and precision; easing fears; granting safer proving-grounds by work at-hand. Projecting-sate, well-commute to resolute and calming… Reaching a ‘systemic’-calm united-by the long in-roads to Georgia and now, the Delta. No longer, thinking in placard-indemnity… A granted-conviction to adjust, and obtain. Principles, in past, often advanced or obligated in fault, hesitantly; releasing a ‘grasp’ enduring-to better-times and resolution, by cause… Although David was intelligent and advancing that didn’t make him all knowing, embodied in transition; on-factors and nurturing and vibrancy, he’d known he couldn’t run from himself… This was all trial and trusts of sufficing-dissociate, engendering; collateral to realisms so con-functional. The deliberation was still-inside; while what prevailed was overcoming and the large-dissociates in owning up to having always subjecting-itself. A deficit-of-devising and voided, dignity-in portent-diversion. Despairingly, was not a despot, in the terms of a liberation. His years of discipline and this short-term diversion-desensitized as if having been de-briefed, demilitarized and de-enlisted.

  A certain sort of return, to normal life. In the ’‘self’-of-security and safety, allowed. So per-function, this was civilian-life, freedom and pursuit-of happiness… An ascertained-logistic of being rationally, realized. He had once more come home. Having a duty-of job, work and commitment. He’d developed so many strident work-structures. Having a governmental-’ratings sheet’; which was complicated-by terminable, comprehensive and of conversion. The great-auspice, effective by duty, diligence and factor. As David realized, was an improvisation-of sorts. It had all been projected and protracted, internalized and an edict-to proficiency. Deposition of so much, had been act-of-a Nation and life; of a dedicated-soldier’s construct. ...He never realized-that the terms of duty, virtually-erased personal-permissiveness. He-was simply, following-orders. The long sought and long-held dependability was an act-of sponsored declaratives. David did not become angry-at the inhibited and incredible, in-ordinates. Yet he knew he had to forget for now, as easily. For those enumerates, would be faced; only this-time in inlaid, encumbrance.

  He no longer sought civil-sufficiency; simply, longed-for a peace of complete adductive; a final and new-‘priming’. That as he once operated-under was the decision-of-orders, carried-out. A personal-perception, objected-in the now elusive-of edification. He’d felt a reprise of sorts in ‘civil’-certainty; that was what he thought might over-take, him. Yet in reality, no inclusive-regiment would-occur. Not at the lore-in case was after-years of stressor-attention; perhaps the military had been his dismissing decorum... Yet, as he was as intransitive of trans-actuation… It had been demanding, yet demand wasn’t compelling… He’d eased into military soldiering in college-R.O.T.C. at Princeton at 20. Then, he ‘wasn’t’ to be a ’‘hero’ and steward. He was given the rules-ofwar, duty, honor and integrity; it-was enlisting and enlightening. Then, chose-in charge were orderly, and impeccably of honor. Yet war was ‘hell’. No man wanted to come-out untouched. An imperative consistent, yet-in evidence it was beyond-this... Its importance under-estimated and difficulty, assailed. He chose and succeeded in his-field. It was exemplary yet mission and mastery were two very different things. And hardship, was the envelope through which everything, passed... It was thus a redemptive honor.

  Logically, was a bestowal-of provision inter-rated to chance as gained opportunity, pro-ventured, an estimated-essential… Provisionally, he was inset to tasks-of a simple-grind and with integrative-technical; he-did work reliantly, recoup and recommence-in actual effective in-forging. Yet he knew, a crime had been his… That legally, he ‘was’ the violator… He’d rarely asked for help, he’d given with courage and duty. Now the in-difference swelled, within him. He would do the right thing. And in that supposition his-life formally would be ‘over’ and out. What kept him from it, was the dissonance of finite ‘Oracle’. The disparaging-exposition, once unknown and attentive. These, were few-parallels of extensive, ‘adventures’ in human-logic… It was no-imminently, simplified-logic. Yet those-orientations to securing, depose. What concurring-evidence was the now, figment of his mind. Yet knowing after being in the mountains covered-in soot that something had happen. As he returned to cognizance the imminent-of-fracture was his pre-induced, post-war syndrome of abjured, obsession. The radio in the flight-out had told of a coming-storm…

  Building over the Honduras heading due North. Which meant they had to batten-down and shutter-up. Only essential crew would stay behind… ‘Okay, men estimate E.T.A: 12 hours 30 minutes…’ They rushed to set things ready and bug-out. David approved of the excitement. They ran back-and-forth closing valves, shutting tanks, monitoring levels. The oil-Boatswain had to stay behind “Dutch” was fifth after him in ranking, so he was one of them left to get-off. The second-flight had went-out looking East white-clouds were moving-in fast. Boatswain knew it would be full-strength in less than an hour. ‘Everyone but the skeleton-crew, prepared to evacuate.’ The last copter roared in and landed. The men hurried aboard. They were off in ten minutes. The rain began to fall as they headed-east-northeast. They unloaded as the rig-crew landed, safely. Everyone could see the coming storm moving, over the horizon. Everyone went to crew-meeting then the shift was over. David was tired, he sat on the beach for awhile longer before the storm hit land. He could see the lights from the massive arms and inner-deck. He’d remembered how it looked when he first choppered-out.

  A huge structure set-in the ocean. It went deep into the sea-floor with huge, bo
red-corals keeping it afloat. He studied every part of it. The Titanium, the steel, the grinders the efficiency of bore and retrieval of oil… The oil flow, tanker off-loader. He knew the divers who checked-on well-strength and ‘shifts’. He knew the duties of flight-crew total loads accepted when winds were bad how it slowed flight on, if more power and fewer weights. Dynamics was his specialty. As he left, a red-hue had went over the rig. That meant they were prepared for the worst. He enjoyed his job like no other. He’d flown over the forests of Washington. Parachuted in with exactness. Yet then was not now and he wanted no more to do with the façade of the agency… He knew something had ended long before the working efficacy of oil work. As he’d left Washington, he was confused and frightened yet as he recovered; it was the end of that world. And perhaps the steadfast ‘will’ to overcome, relinquish and gain-success on other terms. His life had not been high-lighted by overture or obliged-assess yet he knew he had the duty to be commended.

  Devotee, he-was donning; he-was no longer. The storm-hit the Delta with near full-force. The rains fell the gusting-winds yet making little affront. The rig had taken on water, yet held together until morning. Next morning by 10 a.m. everyone was at the oil company meeting-hall. Then went over the recovery routine. Everyone listened as Dutch spoke as recovery-leader. He would fly-out as preliminary-routine. David carried out his duty carefully and correctly. The storm, had not caused too much damage. By afternoon everything was back to normal. It was a class-2 storm and the platform could withstand a lever-4. Everyone was back to work by end of day-2. At-sea work was calculative and exact. Sea pumping required circumspect-skills. David had understood the crucial-difference working as a Naval officer. He knew what the sea could do many of the men were seaman working specifically, in other ocean work. They were perceptive at nautical instrumentation. And a fluent sea-worthy technical. The knowledge, had skilled-terminology and facets. The Mississippi Delta’s climate was a known and some spend a career at it.

  It was definitive work. As everyone went about their work David was establishing new-direction... It was as, in his years as Lt. Commander in the Navy. Yet his functional-‘sense’ was especially, adept. The sea was easing his once, vocal. He wasn’t the head, and he was the lowest. He liked being an instrument, getting-off at night and showing up in the morning. His new life was authentic, elaborative and concise he could use his mind-skills, unpretentiously. He wanted to stay awhile. The essentialness of recognition and commitment helped to make for well-suiting. Yet it-had seemed like ’‘defiance’ and ’‘delusion’; a consent, in real-elusion as invoked-attrition. But as the military was once embodied-employed, so were its designs of influence. Duty and definition by compact that vindicate relied on resign and recognition, in-concerting affiliation. Discipline and dedication had been a formative-vantage. So it had been and exacting, scope-sophistication. He served his time and trade, so was his’ ‘value’ as the entitled was sound... Now, it seemed the factors once solely solace in commission-compliment had been a successful-encompass of common-compromise. He still remembered what the intense-training, commitment and honor which existed no-longer. In that ending-conviction, he understood those collective implications were worthy of vowing, contention and consumption.

  ...The weather in the Mexico-Gulf basin had become warm and sunny, the southern breezes blew in as the men attended to oil off-loading. Most of men had a passion for their job. Many were single, venturesome seamen wanted to become well-off by working hard, competitive work. It was not easy but the ‘thrill’, studiousness and courage made for exciting and immaculate-work. They all got to know each other and relied heavily on themselves. For this community-of commitment, went well. The ‘work’ had rarely, anyone not liking their job. Turnover was rare as money and discipline made compliance; ‘ideal’. Although duty had to be first-rate, competence was a ‘norm’. Men whose life was attending to recovery, careful-determination and consistent, vocation. Dutch, as he was called, was installing and resigned to his-job. Some men worked by instinct; which was not an absolute. But with danger, a challenge to overcome. Though some men had issues; work was tantamount. David had learned from his comrades. That life was a self-discipline and duty was a reality of worthy, ‘self-hood‘. Studious, though the work was one’s objective incursion a self-identity, not taken lightly. Engendering and officiated proponent as proctor.

  And the enlisting of engaged and worked, in enterprise… David developed a security of self-conveying, obligated by concealing comprising. It was a true-adventure. David had a few days off and decided to lie down relax, at the beach. He knew he would return to work and be satisfied as rarely, before… The sun-rose over the ocean as David rode onto the sandy beach. He’d rarely been there. Yet now he felt content and resolved. Things seemed to well-off; satisfaction now, came from the act of competence; ’‘deeper’, his heart was no-longer accented by over-accountability and compliance. A new-resting, realm and releasing-had been recombining reason of-capacity and align-divestment. He was comfortable and composed now, able to redefine his once reluctance now, a past active-relevance… Yet with invoked-Trieste; consumptive, was not revolved-into a sentiment or vitality, in-commence. He discovered what ‘life’ was other-wise making an unconditionally, un-repressible... The ‘grand’-difference was the impression of dependence and ‘independence’-he’d seen fear and fate lend to demise of men without consideration. Yet David had mostly been on the denunciating-end of soldier-protocol.

  Never pressing the authority or question, his. He just figured-it would only, work that way. It was a ’‘crime’-to see how indemnity the system; war and military-law had worked. It was as, if some 13th Century-tyrant made declarations in converging ineptitude… David didn’t want to think or acknowledge-it; not only for its credibility but serving ‘incredulity‘. He was less conceding and con-function to the past but as a bounds released himself from it, when he once adored its consolidated mission. It was no longer of consequence or evident; the role the Navy played in his life... He couldn’t excuse yet he could not feel compelled to its long-entitlement… As the days turned-into weeks and then months, what was an ad-vocational-career was an empty apprise and investment in conjugative-confirmation…. He-relied now more-on self-veneration and out-passed the dimension of once infirmed, insistence and core-affront. Dynamics-deeming, accustom as appointed, reality-in-course and affective-atoning... Much had been once, ’incentive’, was now-appellation… The discipline in war and further government work had been a specter of pre-summation and prudish. He’d not guessed anything ’‘undisciplined’ could-perform, in acuity. The joy he once got-out of being a soldier was no-answer to in ’demand and comply’…

  This ’‘disagreement’, was the strata-of-recollection and coming-to reality… He once again gave thought to the inherent-transition that was starting to present-itself. Soldiering as status-mad men. Only discipline, honor and duty were proprieties bestowed to certain ‘sorts’ of men. Men who did their job out of a larger-obligation and value… And rather David believed-it or not, he was one of those men. He continued his work, working-proprietarily… Yet it was a contingent which defining of duty, availedonly; ’restitute’ after working, standard of efficacy, and divisional-ploy didn’t engender ’passion’ but perversity in-stance. The reclusive, conviction; one the defining-lines, was a collective… Workers were not entitled; a force-of one was more a service of compliancy that in force of patriotism. Soon he was not fully-satisfied, by peopled-parties... It seemed a wearing-of-wit, with merging. He thought of the living-venture of the military, which was his-life. As sure as he’d surmounted the most technical-of ‘virtues’; he wanted the honor and modality-of military-manifest. Like a believer-in faith; he-believed in the identity, commending and fortitude of the discipline. His experience had been a proactive-stance of denial. Soldiering of status, war and discipline was his life.

  He
was and proved a gifted-man. He had done something he had to account-for, and that competence had to be brought to-bare. The divergent-reality was more than he could accept and enthuse-over. Within a month, he left the seaport facility with over $20,000 in his-pocket. Leaving once again was not based on bereaving-benign, his-energy, focus and facet was based-on personal ability. He knew he had gained those-abilities through the office-of-regiment. Ostensibly he’d come to recognize that he-needed to come to terms with this ardent-aberration. Incessantly, he further hollowed-harboring of work, and also ‘will’ which was both a privy and impression by what was a reality. The human reality of commitment, imprint of duty and consummate honor; of those as he. And inuniting, he-availed but in-sensed the rational-ratification in strident-humanity. In pretense, he knew his priority was ever, with the commending and competence now an order of vying. Difficult as it was to accept; he knew in-actuality it was greater than running-away. The reverence, he’d given loyalty-to the military, he could not accept that what he did was ‘ultimate’... He realized the deficit-of un-re-quaint, delusion; could account-for desertion.

  He’d seen men court-marshaled, judged and disciplined without contradiction, or in-advising. The distention-in, affording-by those in-charge. This, had been a discipline. Working outside discipline or honesty was not a deductive-choice. Some were reprimanded, allotted and declarative. An ordinal, in-errant. ...Bo Jon focused-on designs and decisive-determination. There-were obvious and deductive-leads, so the now adverse, crime-solving scene in motive, facilitated and in firmament was now upon Bo’s mentality. There was con-volition, extension and allusions to David’s disappearance, yet superstition in somewhat of testimonial, was forming. Somewhat of concise, continuation had became of a suspect. David was 53, a veteran and government-officer in the U.S.F.S. He existed, as Bo Jon had found-out. Fundamentally, the scope that was not to decide but in an absence of apprehension. Unsolved-crimes stood-out mainly, if an assailant stays free; David was on-the-run, from stridency. Since creation of the ‘Most-Wanted’ list the most-wanted, maligning and mortality made amazing fare... It was similar to the archaic kill-on-sight exclamation. If you were on-the-run, things were contributed to you in your absence.

  Yet was what Bo Jon didn’t need to consider. With him the direct here-say, though lilting, was cogent evidence; that, and filial evidence sat orated to Bo Jon’s cause. In his facet dimension of David was shadows, footprints and images pro-faction to what was his exponent. Bo started weighing his evidence, perfecting his ins and outs. Surmising and sub-divertingly, adjusting stating and stand-point to what stood as his deriving case. There was rarefied, ratification in which the soothing of privy had began creating simile assignation. The full-picture evince away from simple terminal. The exploratory, disunity of crimecourse, criminality and forge semantics of incurring-cause... Fortune and framework would help Bo cement further convening. A systematic-dusting-off of venue, to coordinate and recover. These slights, chances and ‘plibs’ to the radio-in his ‘regiment’… Bo Jon’s amendment in casting-clues were nearing, ‘uncanny’. He learnt the skill of tracking, hiding and alluding from being the descent of ‘Indian-trackers’… Men who spent-weeks in the desert; following fugitive, out-laws and fellow Indian-evaders.

  The line went straight to Barthelemew Jonathan Littlehorse… As in the cyclic of math, thinking and perception earned by a masters in economics. His skills readapted in criminal work. Plying now, the ploys of perpetrators his eyes, breathing and concentration began ‘exonerating’, ‘perfect’-clues. David’s brother, Chris, was his only blood-relative. He returned to college and finished his final semester. Bo had conversed much with Chris, they had several dinners together and enjoyed Bo’s rural life-style. Bo had gained much insight, personal understanding and intricacy to his thinking, behavior and contemplation to a lawless cause. From David’s ventures, vision and vocal was in-affect, reaching into David’s reality to factuality and give vigil to bring him in, in a growing-yaw as opponent Bo Jon had David’s best-interest at heart. Tribal-customs had that in difficult times a brother was one in harm and means, then you share with him… This was honor. Chris perhaps had done more for his brother than if he had talked to him, personally. He was colluding all Chris told him. From difficulty to resolution Bo asked and learned as much as he could to facilitate-cognitive, consistency and of character consolidating, consistency to created conciseness by incursion. Chris flew-off to L.A. from Reno airport feeling that both resolve and ‘sanctity’-in what was now his brother’s situation.

  He’d left it in competent-hands. Bo began using a collective of psyche-telemetry to evocated a smooth un-erring, ’‘silhouette’. He’ll hold-up his part of the cooperative, as conducing to status. Peremptory, he was filling-in terminate incursion that would resolve to find and apprehend in inclination; yet conventional-to the commence to the end to a crime-now, abhorrent in-terms. Thus, the smooth-exaction of Bo’s mind had began ‘telling’ what was a number of states, areas and highways. He’d begin rune-collecting and piecing together a reputable solvency. Which would be with the time scheme-of methodology-of the correlative-enacting of the F.B.I…. There officiating, would draw together clues, evidence and accounts, that would direct a solidified-contentiousness. Allowing Bo to do the pre-cursor-sketching. He’d return to the area-prepared to refine, the case. The ‘Carpet moon’ was along the gulf-shores. The stars shine, seemed especially deep. The southern shoreline was calm. David was content. A great weight had been taken off him. His days of freedom were numbered, illuminated by the once great-schematic of opus-duty…

  He’d missed is apprising duties; the government had been his life. Entailing what had been a duty to country. He’d expressed an unknowing behavioral ‘black-out’ yet he knew somehow, it was too serious to ignore. Now having a new resolve to accept what he did a mighty-weight he had to bared. He was alone in the world, alone and wary… He began to theorize, arrive-at and understand the great allusion that now marked his life. He had heard the man-hunt that was after him. He’d follow-ways and get so much deserved R an R change of mindset; and possibly away-with the once great stature-with the sentiment-of ritual. His vision and vocal-an aligning-issue-of acceptance. He’d get a ‘renewal’ by a newer-reality.

  End.

  Eleven