WACO’S
LUMMOX
By
Waddie Greywolf
Chapter
20
Blake talked
with the Stamper boys and told them the only reason they were there was
because Master Charlie and his ramrod told Master Hoot and Cotton if
they were good and cooperating to allow them to come to the Easter
holiday festivities. They were impressed by what the boys
accomplished and heard good things about their work on the new slave
quarters. Blake expected them to be on their best behavior or
their holiday would be cancelled immediately.
It would be the
boys first chance to eat regular food again. Not even Burt would
do anything to jeopardize that. They had no idea they might get
to play some football; however, when the time came the coaches included
them. They knew the talent available among the older Stamper boys
and were interested in seeing what the younger boys could do.
They didn’t know what to think of the four boys that were new to the
Goodnight ranch.
Gavin and Jerry
knew about football and played some with their dads. Their
younger lummox brother, Kurg, was almost the same size as Gavin, Waco
and Lucas. He wanted to play, too. The coaches didn’t know
what to make of a young half-man half-critter, but the rest of the boys
wanted him to play so they went along with it.
Since Lucas’
recovery, and the months he had been drinking pure lummox milk, he had
grown quickly. He was now slightly bigger than his next two older
brothers, Zeke and Jeb. The Stamper boys had no idea he was a
year younger than Zeke. They thought he was about Sam’s age.
The Stamper boys
were in for quite a bit of culture shock that day. Blake
was warned beforehand who would be there and knew there would be more
furry men and critters the boys would certainly ask questions about;
however, he warned them they might see some things they weren’t
expecting but they were not to push. He would have a talk with
them later in the evening and explain anything they didn’t understand.
They certainly
were impressed by the huge, hairy men who seemed to come in three
sizes, big, larger and huge. They found it amusing a huge horse
the boys doted over named ‘Ranger’ was the center of attention and
allowed to wander around everywhere with the boys. Even more
impressive was the two dogs ‘Scraps’ and ‘Happy’ who were constantly
running up and down the sidelines barking at the boys like they were
cheering them on. A couple of the boys swore the male dog
would speak to the boys, and on occasion, would be sent into the huddle
by one of the coaches to tell one of the quarterbacks to send out a
player to be replaced by another.
For all the
player swapping, there was no question in the coaches’ minds who the
two quarterbacks would be. It would be Waco and Lucas.
Blake, Bryce, JR, and Little Bear were used to Lucas being their
quarterback and Waco’s men were used to him. The Stamper boys
were guest so they didn’t object. They were just happy to be
included and getting a chance to play.
The boys spent
several afternoons teaching Bron, Bronc and Ts’gan the game of
football. The men were bright and picked up on the game
immediately. When it came time for the Sunday afternoon game,
they were ready. There were several younger slaves who wanted to
play as well and the coaches were only too happy to have extra men to
run in.
What they
observed that afternoon was nothing short of a miracle as far as talent
was concerned. The teams were almost equally divided and fought
back and forth, play after play, to gain some yardage against the
other. Attempts to run or pass the ball were thwarted by
defensive moves by players from both teams. Finally, Lucas
managed to pull a fast one and passed the ball off to Bronc, and the
rest of the men, including Lucas, ran interference for him. It
just barely worked, but only because Bronc proved to be a consummate
athlete and managed to outrun and evade all of Waco’s men.
Years of running
silently through the forest to catch small animals and to outrun larger
prey perfected Bronc and Ts’gan’s running techniques until they were
almost untouchable. After the touchdown the coaches’ mouths were
hanging open. They couldn’t believe what they just saw. The
could only look at each other in amazement and shake their heads.
Not only did they absolutely have to have Lucas for their school team,
they started inquiring about how soon Bronc and his little brother
would be enrolled. When asked their last names, Bron looked
anxiously at Charlie and Lazarus.
“They’re
relatives of mine, Coach Davis, their last name is Long.” said
Lazarus.
Coach Davis
stuck out his hand to shake Bron’s and spoke,
“We’d love to
have yore’ boys play on our team at school, Mr. Long.”
Bron was pleased
his boys made such an impression. Then the coach went to Charlie
and asked about his relatives who were staying with him. Charlie
already thought about a cover for the boys and spoke with Captain Trong
and Commander Fielding. The boys would be his relatives, Gavin
and Jerry Fielding. The coach accepted that and told him they
were looking forward to them being on the team. Charlie assured
him they would be in school for the fall semester.
Waco’s team
managed a comeback in the final moments of the game and kicked a field
goal. It was good, but Lucas’ team still won. It was the
toughest game either Waco or Lucas played. They were exhausted as
they hugged each other. Waco told Lucas he had to come to school
and play with him instead of against him. None of the teams he
and his men faced the year before were nearly as tough as Lucas and his
team.
The Stamper boys
all got to play at one time or another in the game. The older
boys, Burt, Phil and Sam got to play the whole game, but when the
coaches finally ran in Jeb and Zeke, they discovered two more naturally
gifted young athletes. Their cups runneth over. Jeb and
Zeke were never much interested in sports until they became
slaves. It was about the only exercise and play they had outside
of working everyday. Blake didn’t try to overdo with the boys,
but he made sure he worked them steadily all day long. At the end
of the day, they were too damn tired to considered mischief or trying
to run away.
Cotton and Hoot
gave Lazarus and Charlie updates as to the boys progress. They
were generally pleased with the boys acceptance and developing work
ethic; however, Hoot admitted to some gaps in their training.
“We’re so damned
pleased with Blake Tindell’s work with the boys we ain’t pushed the sex
thing.”
“I ain’t
concerned about that at all, Hoot.” said Lazarus and Charlie
nodded. “They been busy with their building project. There
will be time for that later.”
“Well, we wanted
to talk with you about it. It seems some strange things are
happening. Three of the boys have developed friendships with one
or more of the older cowboys and have sort of started looking up to
them as big brothers and mentors. If what we think is happening,
is it all right with you if’n we let nature take its course.”
“Absolutely.
Sometimes it’s better to let something like that happen as a natural
progression of events rather than forcing them. Are the cowboys
the kind of men who will respect the boys and let them come to them?”
Lazarus asked concerned.
“Yes, Sir.
We’ve talked with each one of the men and with your permission we may
wanna’ talk with the boys. We’ve told the men we won’t tolerate
them forcing the boys, but we don’t see nothing wrong with the cowboys
actively courting them. I know to describe it that away sounds
funny, but we’ve put it to them, if the boys wanna’ participate they
have to go to Blake or us to get approval.”
“Sounds like a
good plan to me. What do you think, Boss?” Lazarus deferred
to Charlie.
“I like the
idea. I waited for Blake to come to me. He knew he was
gonna’ have to participate sooner or later, but it became his
choice. It wasn’t like I took it away from him. He made a
choice to give it to me. That can have a long lasting effect and
go a long way to acceptance.” Charlie mused out loud.
“I can’t help
but be curious which boys are bonding with your other cowboys.”
Lazarus said.
“You might be
surprised, Ramrod.” spoke up Cotton, “Jeb, Sam and Burton.”
“Burt?
No!” exclaimed Charlie, then chuckled.
“I’ll be
damned.” followed Lazarus, “You’re right, I am surprised.”
“Burt’s taken up
with one of the older cowboys who’s sort of acting as a mentor and
father figure for him. You remember Jimmy Joe Russell, don’t
you?” Hoot asked.
“Yeah, he was
world champion bull rider three years in a row. Got too rowdy,
drank too much, ran through his money and robbed a bank. He got
thirty years. Just enough to make him a lifetime slave. He
didn’t have no bullets in the gun he used or he would a’ gotten more
time.” explained Charlie.
“He’s one of our
best cowboys and a trustee. He come to us and asked about him and
Burt bunk’n it in together. Seems like Burt done come right out
and asked him if’n he would break him in. Said he’d rather have a
man like Jimmy Joe he admired and trusted teach him rather than have it
taken away from him.”
“Humm, maybe
there’s hope for ole Burt yet.” mused Lazarus. “Hell,
yes! You handle it, but you men got the right idea. Tell
ole Jimmy Joe he’s got our blessing. The rest we’ll leave up to
you. I couldn’t be happier with your and Blake’s progress with
the boys.”
“You know after
seeing yore’ androids here them boys is gonna’ start put’n two and two
together. H’it ain’t gonna’ be long before one of ‘em figures out
you’re their owner.” allowed Cotton.
“‘At’s all
right. Master Charlie and I thought about that when he wanted to
invite ma’ boys to the party. We knew it might be a
possibility. I don’t want ‘em lied to. If’n they press you
or Blake about it, tell ‘em the truth. They don’t need a lot of
details. Let’s let ‘em work it out for themselves. They’ll
eventually have to be brought into the fold; however, for the time
being they don’t need to know more than we want ‘em to.”
“We agree.
We’ll talk with Blake. We had a feeling you’d feel that
away.” Hoot confirmed.
* * * * * * *
The ranchers
discussed many things over dinner. There were several topics of
conversation that weighed heavily on everyone’s minds. First of
all, the ranchers were losing cattle right and left. Charlie lost
almost ten percent of his herd and according to his figures, if he lost
a few more, he would barely break even for the year. That’s not
why ranchers are in business. They raise cattle for profit.
A lot of Charlie’s cattle and that of his brother and neighbors were
being sold to the government. Beef prices were almost too high
for the common man to afford red meat for his table; however, the
politicians always had plenty of fresh beef and supplied it to their
paid military as an incentive for young people to join and be loyal to
the theocratic regime that had been in power for over a couple of
decades.
Charlie smelled
a rat, especially after the visit from the government men; however, he
had no proof. Slowly but surely the neighboring ranchers came to
trust Charlie’s ramrod and listened to what he had to say.
Charlie asked Lazarus’ opinion in front of Angus, Ranger Gibbons,
Sheriff Lassiter, Hoot and Cotton and several neighbors. The
sheriff invited Chief Tin Penny to come to the Easter party to be with
his grandson again. The Chief readily accepted and was having a
good time. He was sitting with the men. Lazarus spoke to
them,
“I’ve examined
dead and mutilated cattle from all the surrounding ranches and the
patterns are the same; however, not all the cows taken have been
accounted for. Less than two thirds of the missing cows have ever
been found. There’s a reason for that, Gentlemen. I’m going
to tell you what’s happening, but you must keep a completely open mind
and not repeat what I’m about to tell you. If you’re serious
about doing something about your situation, you’re going to have to
rearrange your thinking. You’re gonna’ have to start thinking
outside the box. You can never think about your world and your
family’s place in it the same way again. Too many things have
changed. There’s forces at play you know nothing about, but
you’ve long suspected.
Most of you men
have either fallen away from the hardline fundamentalist religion or
were never very thrilled with it from the beginning. You have seen the
way they’ve perverted anything to do with honest beliefs. I’m not
here to knock anyone’s religion or right to believe anything they want,
but one thing is important. Fundamentalism is an escapist way of
dealing with the greater problems of life. It’s God’s will. Let’s
leave it in His hands. You can’t think that way and survive what
you have to face in the coming days. You have to take your fate
into your own hands and pray God or, more likely, you neighbor is
watching your back. Just remember what your dad and mother used
to tell you, ‘God helps them what help themselves.’
You can no
longer think about what’s best for you. You must start thinking
about what’s best for your greater family, and for those of you who
don’t understand my meaning let me spell it out for you. Your
greater family must extend beyond the boundaries of your homes.
You have to start thinking about the folks in your community as your
greater kin; your friends and neighbors; even your slaves.
Whatever’s discussed here, you must keep to yourselves. Do you
understand? Do I have your promise?”
All the men
murmured among themselves, shook their head in agreement, but Angus
stood and spoke for all of them.
“Captain Long,
if you know anything we’d appreciate knowing what you know. We
understand we live in times where we have to hide most of our lives
from our own government and from those who don’t believe the way we do
about things. The more conservative element among our community
are becoming increasingly more demanding everyone must conform to their
way of thinking and relating to others.
We once thought
we were being conservative by voting Republican. We thought the
Democrats had become too liberal and were giving our hard earned tax
dollars away for programs we didn’t approve of. They were
moderates compared to what we face today. We should a’ listened
to our daddies. They was all yellow dog Democrats.
We got sold a
worthless bill of goods that did nothing but rape our great state and
lined the pockets of the wealthy until it got so out of control we have
nothing left. There is no one to stand up for us ranchers.
I think we’ve all come to the conclusion we must stand together and
stand up for ourselves. If you can give us any idea what we’re
facing, perhaps we can come up with a solution or a plan to fight
against whatever is what’s robbing us.”
“You are being
robbed by three factions, gentlemen. Two are alien and one is
your own government. Have you noticed the government has been
buying less and less of your beef in the last couple of years?”
The ranchers all
agreed with him they were down almost a third what they were in beef
sales to the government even two years ago.
“Why should they
pay for your beef when they can get it for free?”
Lazarus
tossed his comment out and let it lay at their feet for a minute to
sink in. There were a couple of murmurs go through the crowd.
“I understand
what’s happening, Captain Long.” spoke Chief Tin Penny, “I’ve seen it
happening on our reservation. We’ve not only lost many cattle,
we’ve lost horses, sheep and goats.”
“I’m sure you
know, Chief. Would you like to tell these men what’s going on,—
what they’re up against?”
“Gladly,
Captain. Gentlemen, there are two alien factions what are working
with your government to rob you of your cattle. First there are
the small gray critters with the big slanted eyes you’ve all seen
pictured in movies and ads on T.V. They’ve become a part of
modern folklore or at least that’s what your government wants you to
think; they’re just folklore. We’ll they ain’t. They’re
very real.
The grays ain’t
like regular intelligent critters like we have on the Earth. Each
one represents a part of a greater whole. They’re like a hive
mentality. They all share a portion of the same knowledge,— sort
of like insects. Like ants or bees, what one learns and knows,
they all know. They have developed telepathic means of
communication that’s very powerful and can be used to control most of
us primates; however, for all their advanced technology, even they
answer to a higher power. They are a slave race.
They do the
bidding of masters what are rarely seen on Earth. They are
fearsome and loathsome creatures. They are the nightmares of all
men’s dreams and have been seen by mankind as demons and servants of
the Devil. They are a reptilian race and look like lizard
men. The most amazing thing is, the Earth is their original
home. They developed their civilization during the age of the
dinosaurs when our ancestors were little more than night-crawling
proto-primates.
They left Earth
thousands of years ago, but have kept a close watch over it since
then. Because the Earth is so unique in its placement in the
universe and its ability to sustain bio-diversity it became a
way-station for warriors and travelers from distant galactic
conflicts. It became a refueling station for food, chemicals and
sometimes a little R & R for travelers.
Losing livestock
ain’t new. It’s been going on for centuries. It went on
before men learned to domesticate cattle and other livestock. My
people have stories of seeing the buffalo rise up into the sky and
disappear,— never to be seen again. Same with antelope, big horn
sheep, deer, elk and moose. White man came along and destroyed
all the massive buffalo herds, so alien critters now rely on domestic
cattle and sheep. It’s been known about among native peoples for
centuries. It’s just within the last hundred years of global
communication other men have become aware it happens to everyone, all
over the planet.
The reptilian
race leave all their dirty work to their servant race, the grays.
The grays steal your cattle and divide it equally between themselves,
the reptile race and your government; but that ain’t all. Should
I tell them the rest, Captain Long?”
“You’re doing
fine, Chief. So far you’re bat’n a thousand. I know you
know the rest. H’it ain’t pretty, but they need to hear it.
They need to know what they’re up against. ”
“Animal
livestock ain’t all they take. They have been known to take pets
and human livestock, or slaves. The also take freemen, women and
children who are never returned or seen again. They even take
young mothers with their babies.” Chief Tin Penny paused for a
moment, then continued, “Like our livestock, those what ain’t
returned are used for alien consumption.”
There was a gasp
ran through the men. One man, Al Dugan, raised his hand.
“I been missing
four a’ ma’ cowboys for six months. Them and their ponies is all
missing. We found one man,— what we thought was one of our men,—
what was left of him, in a ravine about a month ago. He were’t
kill’t or eaten by scavengers. They wouldn’t touch his
carcass. He stunk to high heaven, but it was obvious he weren’t
decomposing. No tell’n how long he’d been there, but you could
tell he was dropped from a great height. There was no footprints
around his carcass. All the bones in his body were broken and his
head was crushed. There was no trace of blood on or around his
body.”
Another rancher
held up his hand.
“Same with me,
only one a’ ma’ sons is missing.”
Three more held
up their hands they were missing men. Angus and Bill Birdsall
said they were missing a couple of men who were riding night watch on
their herd.
“I get reports
every week from folks missing slave-cowboys and pets.” added the
sheriff and his men, “We thought it was runaway slaves at first, but
only a couple have been found, and they were dead for sometime.
We know the ranchers ain’t killing their slaves. They’re too torn
up over it and most of the time, it was a valuable slave they
lost. Same with pets. I even lost a couple of horses last
week; lost a number of cattle and sheep last year. They even took
one a’ ma’ prized bulls.” Sheriff Lassiter lamented.
“Is there
anything we can do to fight back, Captain?” One of the ranchers
asked.
“Yes, a couple
of things; however, if you consider doing it, you also have to consider
the consequences. Do you really want to get yourselves into an
all out war with aliens who have a more advanced technology than you,
and do you want to have a corrupt, fascist, neo-Nazi dictator
government coming down on top of you?”
“What other
option do we have, Captain Long? If we sit by and do nothing,
we’ll perish. If we try to boycott selling to the government and
take a loss on our beef by selling to the public, they would pass some
outrageous law requiring us to sell to them in the name of national
security. Then they would still be stealing from us. If
they have all the money, why are they picking our pockets?”
“Simple,
gentlemen,” replied Chief Tin Penny, “because they can, and they know
there ain’t a damn thing you can do about it. Not meaning to beat
a dead horse, but maybe you gentlemen can understand the feelings us
native Americans had over the years when the federal government backed
the killing of the buffalo herds so our ancestors would starve.
They robbed and cheated us out of our lands and heritage. We
survived,— so will you. I have faith in Captain Long and the good
men who have come in the ‘long-boats.’ They have been prophesied
by my people for hundreds of years; however, we never considered ‘Long’
would be a noun.”
“The Chief’s
right, men. There are several options you might consider.
You can buy ground to air rocket launchers or more simple grenade
launchers RPGs. You can keep a watch every night and the first
chance you get, blow them son’s a’ bitches out of the sky. Now,
to do that, you must first have something to interrupt your thoughts so
they can’t scan your minds. I know it sounds weird, but they scan
a group of men to see if any of them is thinking about a threat toward
them. That’s why they ain’t been caught or confronted before
now. How do you shield your thoughts from them? It can
easily be done by providing your men with hats lined with an
electrostatically absorbing material. If’n they can’t read your
mind, they don’t know what you’re up to.”
“Wait a
minute. You’re telling us these creatures can read our minds?”
asked one of the older ranchers, Sam Eagleston.
“Yes, Mr.
Eagleston, that’s exactly what the ramrod is telling you.”
Confirmed Chief Tin Penny, “Why is that so hard for you to
believe? You’re pony’s been doing it for years. Why is it
sometimes you could swear he knows what you’re thinking? That’s
‘cause he can.” smiled the Chief. “Many of our young people
communicate with each other, their dogs and ponies. A few even
know how to block any critter from taping their brains if they don’t
want ‘em to. My people have been communicating with a rebel
faction of the grays for many years. They were the ones what
taught us how to protect ourselves from them. If they can’t get
into your minds, they can’t control your thoughts or control you.
That’s how they take folks against their will.”
“Well said,
Chief.” allowed Lazarus, “Once again, the Chief is right,
gentlemen. You can protect yourself and your people against
them. There’s an electrostatically negative material I can get
for you, but you have to teach your people to make their own linings
for their hats. There are several things to consider if you
wanna’ fight back. There is much more involved than I can tell
you now, but you’re gonna’ need to know everything.”
“If’n they can
read a man’s thoughts, what’s to keep them from reading them when
they’s in the bunkhouse? Are the men suppose to wear their hats
inside as well?”
“Good question,
Mr. Eagleston.” replied Lazarus, “Corrugated tin roofs will do
the trick. You can easily put a tin roof over a composition
roof. It also adds a reflective value to keep the building cooler
in the summertime. You have to make sure the roof is completely
grounded with a four foot piece of re-bar or a galvanized piece of
water pipe of the same length hammered into the ground at each end of
the building. Any electrical activity inside the building will go
directly into the Earth and not off into space.”
“What about our
ponies?” asked Hoot Austin.
“Your ponies are
a crafty lot, as you well know. Most have learned to block the
gray critters thoughts; besides, the grays look down upon horses as
little more than cattle. Because they work with us they consider
them beneath probing most of the time. You won’t find as many
horses taken as you will cattle and the reason is, most of the time the
grays can’t locate them. They’ve learned to give them critters
the slip.
Gentlemen, some
of the things you learn over the coming days and weeks are gonna’ seem
weird, strange or too bizarre to be believed. That’s what your
current government wants you to think, so you will be in the dark and
unable to defend yourself from them or the creatures they’re in cahoots
with. Like Mr. Eagleston here, many of you are gonna’ have a hard
time believing until you have it laid at yore’ feet. As time goes
by and we learn who we can trust and who we can’t, more will be
revealed to you. We’ll get into the whys, wherefores, and who’s
later. Right now, let’s consider how to protect yourself,
your families, your friends, and your property.
If you should
take out a spaceship of the grays,— by that, I mean shoot it out of the
sky,— there might be several possible outcomes. We must consider
all of them. Since your government doesn’t want to admit there
are such things as aliens and insist there is no such thing as UFOs,—
if you take one out and dispose of it immediately, there’s not a lot
they can do. They will be operating under their usual confused
ignorance. Why are they ignorant? Because the grays and the
reptoids only allow them to know so much and nothing more. Unless
it’s reported to them by the grays they won’t have any way of knowing,
and communication with them is not an everyday thing. Other than
satellite images, and they can be blocked easily, there is no way your
government will know.
What’s the
government gonna’ do if’n you take one out,— come down on top of you
demanding to know what you did with the alien spacecraft?
What alien space craft? They’ve been denying their existence for
years,— now they wanna’ know what you did with a spacecraft what was
stealing your cows? I don’t think so. You can laugh them
off your property. Get the media out to cover them. If you
can’t, secretly video them and their actions and release it to the
media later. They will come off looking like fools and they know
it.
There is several
options for dealing with the grays. First, you could buy surplus
weapons on the black market. You all know there’s a thriving
trade in illegal weapons of all kinds. If’n you got the money you
can buy anything. So that’s one option. The only problem
with that is you have to be accurate; however, with the newer RPGs and
heat sensing rocket launched missiles, there’s very little chance of
missing.
Secondly, you
can rig cows with plastic explosives with a remote detonator or even a
more sophisticated altitude sensing detonator. As soon as a cow
is in their bay, and the ship takes off, if it flies above a certain
altitude, blam! The bomb goes off,— the cow and ship are
destroyed. The only problem with that is you have to arm a lot of
cows.
The third option
is more subtle but lethal. We inject the cows with a virus that
only affects the grays and the reptile race. The drawback is,
they won’t know exactly who or where they got infected and may return
to your area again. Also you won’t have a clear idea of your
success ratio.
The first option
is probably your best bet, because once they’re missing a ship known to
be in your area last before it went missing, they’ll think twice before
sending another ship to help themselves to your cows. Just
remember, the main goal is to completely destroy or eliminate any trace
of their ship once you shoot it down. I may be able to help with
that. I have access to some toys, of which your government has no
concept.”
“Do you have one
what will bring down their ships?” asked Angus.
“Yes, Sir, I
do. They ain’t complicated to operate. The average man can
handle one. They cancel out the ship’s anti-gravity, and they
crash. The only problem with the device is, it must be used with
care or it will cause a great implosion of matter for a large diameter
around the ship. It will create a mini-black hole that will suck
everything into it that ain’t nailed down for a large area, and
whatever it sucks in simply disappears,— it won’t exist no more.
To use the weapon is sort of a double-edged sword. While it takes
care of the disposal of the aliens and the ship, you might lose more
than the one cow. Hell, you could potentially lose half yore’
ranch. It would be better to bring the ship down by an explosion
and then dispose of it by other means.”
“Then, I take it
you have other ‘toys’ in your arsenal that will make short work of
disposing of what’s left of a ship and bodies after it falls to the
Earth.” said Charlie.
“Yes, Sir,
Boss. There won’t be a trace of it left. Nothing for the
government to find or the aliens to come looking for.”
“Sweet.” said
Sheriff Lassiter. The other men laughed nervously. If the
sheriff of the county was in on it, they considered they had little to
fear from local law enforcement; after all, Don Lassiter had as much to
lose as the rest of the ranchers.
“I also have a
fleet of other small recon ships on board my ship that can make quick
work of the grays inferior crafts. They are invisible to radar or
infrared detection and can’t be detected by any of the gray or
reptiod’s technology. We can take them out and dispose of them
neatly enough; however, before I get involved I want you men to make an
effort to defend yourselves. If I just hand it to you, you won’t
appreciate the fact we’re all in this together. It will
make any man who participates think twice before snitching to the
government what we’re doing.”
“What is the
ultimate goal of the aliens, ramrod? If’n they’s so powerful and
technologically advanced, why don’t they just come down and take over.”
Asked Stan Brown, a tall lanky rancher. Chief Tin Penny started
laughing. He laughed so hard he got Lazarus and Charlie laughing
with him.
“They already
have,” Lazarus said laughing at the Chief, “you jes’ don’t
realize it,— but you will very soon.”
“I have a
question.” spoke up Cotton. Cotton was always the
pragmatist.
“Shoot,
Son.” Lazarus acknowledged him.
“Say we do use
this telepathy cancelling material in our hats,— ain’t them critters
gonna’ git suspicious they ain’t able to read no minds?”
“Good question,
Son. While they’re technologically advanced they have some
limitations. They have a difficult time thinking in the abstract.
Sort of like an animal who gets caught in a trap because he went after
food what was left inside. He don’t look at the metal box and
think it’s a trap. His only interest is to satisfy his hunger
with a nice morsel of food. So it is with them, or— at least the
first time. So we need for them to be able to read a few minds to
throw them off.
You men are
fortunate. For some unknown reason, your children are developing
mental powers never before seen in any sentient race before. We
ain’t real sure what’s causing it, but we have our suspicions.
Your young people are your greatest hope for your immediate
salvation. Living among you are a number of young’uns what
communicate telepathically with each other and their pets. Some
of you already know about them, others have kept it hidden from you
because they’re afraid to appear different.
They’re learning
to block mental tapping from folks they don’t want touching their
thoughts and can allow only selective thoughts to be probed. They
can’t be controlled by the grays or the reptilians. They are
unique in one aspect, but not in another. Animals and certain
races of people, like Native Americans, have been able to do it for
centuries. We’re just now catching up. Lemme’ see a show of
hands. How many of you have suspected for sometime one or more of
your kids has some abilities they ain’t letting you know about?”
Every rancher
there slowly raised their hands.
“I thought
so. Gentlemen, it’s time you had a good heart to heart talk with
your kids. They just may save yore’ butts.”
The meeting
broke up. There were a couple of things agreed upon. Angus
asked when Lazarus would address the entire community of concerned
folks about what was taking place.
“Not for
sometime, Angus.” Lazarus responded. “Right now, we’re on a
need to know basis. The more folks we bring into our greater
family the easier it’s gonna’ be to convince other folks; however, a
number of things have to happen first. We also have to pick and
choose those who we will be forthright with. Can you imagine what
the ultra-conservative loonies would do if they found out we were
including another species into our families when they’re sure they’re
God’s only chosen people? No species or group of people has the
right to make such a claim. Any man who even entertains such a
stupid proposition has a greater agenda. He’s not a fool for
telling someone such an absurdity, he only becomes a fool if he
believes it.
Any man who buys
into such arrogant, ignorant hubris ain’t worthy of
salvation. There are so many sentient species out there in the
universe, it would make them folks pale to know they weren’t the only
ones. We will know when the time is right. The greater
consciousness of the universe will tell us. When your youngest
brother comes to you and tells you, ‘Now is the time, brother.’
You will know.”
Angus mused over
Lazarus’ almost cryptic statement and his lopsided smile.
“I’ve often
wondered about Shane. Even when he was younger, he seemed to be
confused a lot. Not because he had a bad heart, but because he
always seemed to be listening to the beat of a different drummer.
It was like he was listening for a voice that was just beyond his range
of hearing,— like he knew it was there, he could hear it, but he
couldn’t make out the words. I always told myself it was because
he didn’t have any solid grounding because his parents were dead.
Now, I’ve come to believe it’s more than that. I still see that
faraway look in his eye sometimes, like he sees or hears something
other men can’t.”
“Another year,—
maybe less, and he will hear those voices, brother. Then you will
begin to listen to him. That’s when you will become whole
again. You’ll let yourself off the hook and understand in yore’
heart you done the right thing by him.”
Angus almost
shed a tear as he thanked Lazarus for his kindness and his honesty with
the men.
The ranchers
came around to shake the Chief’s hand and thank him for his
honesty. They shook Lazarus’ hand with reverence and told him
what he said about extended family was a realization they came to on
their own but never put into words before. They understood its
meaning and were more than ready to participate. They saw their
task in the years to come as one of survival and not just
existing. Their lives and the lives of their immediate families
would depend on their cooperation.
Lines were being
drawn. The crazier the right wing fundamentalist got the more of
their congregation they lost. There was great changes from the
dog and pony hysterics of a broad based fundamentalism to a more
concerned and respectful meditation. Many folks became weary of
people rolling around on the floor of the church, babbling like idiots,
speaking in tongues no one could understand and being told they were
holy. Folks got tired of being told about lakes of fire and
eternal damnation if they didn’t abide by every crazy new idea some
demagog of a preacher felt he could impose on them. As one old
cowboy put it, “I’m such a sinner, I’m already gonna’ have to swim laps
across that durn lake a’ fire. A few more coals added to the fire
ain’t gonna’ make that much difference one way or ‘tother.”
There came a
great divide between religious philosophies. The more liberal and
sedate churches were gaining in attendance as folks became overwhelmed
by the excesses and abuse of power the fundamentalist clergy imposed
upon their congregations. Giving to the church was raised from a
voluntary contribution to a demanded tithe. Tithe amounts were
adjusted according to an individual’s wealth gathered from tax records
and expected to be paid. The right wing had legislated their way
into every aspect of society and government. Ignorant, small town
preachers became like feudal lords of the middle ages.
Liberal churches
found themselves being persecuted by the more vocal and militant
fundamentalist. The right wing was trying to stamp out the
liberal churches because, under guaranteed freedom of religion, they
had as much legitimate claim to the tithes of their congregations as
the fundamentalist to theirs. Some of the more wealthy ranchers
and members of the community belonged to liberal churches. It was
money the fundamentalist preachers weren’t getting and their greed
overwhelmed their tolerance, to say nothing of understanding or
compromise.
The
fundamentalist began to insist their view of religion was the only
valid one and liberal churches were preaching heresy. Many
historians made comparisons to the early day founding of the Catholic
church wiping out Gnosticism. If the Catholic church didn’t
approve of any aspect of theology that didn’t follow Catholic dogma it
was banned as heretical and forcibly destroyed. The truth of
religion or justification for such actions had no basis in concern for
the souls or betterment of mankind. It was all about power and
money. So it became with the fundamentalist. They were out
to brainwash and control the whole of their societies. They were
working furiously to have what was left of the Constitution changed to
acknowledge fundamental Protestantism as the officially recognized
religion of the United States. All other religions would be
tolerated, but they had to pay a tithe to the fundamentalist to
continue to exist.
It began to
divide the community, but it also had the effect of bonding the
smaller, more liberal congregations together like never before.
There were just enough rugged individualist left in the West who could
see the way their society was going and refused to be caught up in the
fanatical maelstrom of fundamentalism. The religious right
became increasingly warlike in their attitudes and approaches to other
religions and the other churches in their community. They began
to train their ‘Young Christian Soldiers’ at training camps called
‘Jesus Camps’ where children as young as six years old were encouraged
to wear uniforms and taught to drill with small replicas of automatic
weapons, all in the name of Jesus. History has confirmed, in many
instances, organized religion, in particular fundamentalism, marches in
lockstep with neo-conservative fascist political values.
* * * * * * *
There was
nothing settled as to when, where and how the ranchers might take their
first strike against the aliens who were robbing them. There were
several things to consider and plans to be made to protect their
cowboys from thought control by the little gray critters. Lazarus
promised to get the ranchers the anti-static material he told them
about before a fortnight. He would have Cable run off fifty yards
of the material from the ship’s replicators.
Lazarus and
Charlie thanked Chief Tin Penny for his help and support.
“We must stand
together as the tribe of man rather than be individual tribes, Captain
Long.” he spoke solemnly.
“I hope all
these men understand that, Chief.” replied Lazarus.
“I think they do
understand it, gentlemen.” allowed Charlie.
* * * * * * *
The afternoon
wore on and Charlie served homemade ice cream and cake as a final
dessert for the day. It was enjoyed by everyone. It was a
real treat for the Stamper boys. After they finished they asked
their boss if they could talk with the men they thought were their
examining angels. Blake Tindell had already asked Cable if they
were prepared for the boy’s questions and he assured him they were.
“I don’t see why
not, gentlemen, as long as you’re polite and not too personal.
They’re fine men and will tell you the truth.”
The boys walked
over to where Cable, David, and Jonathan were talking to several of the
women folk. They stopped their conversations to acknowledge the
boys.
“Ah, the Stamper
brothers, gentlemen. It’s good to see you again.
Congratulations on the great game you played today.” Cable stuck
out his hand to shake Burt’s and passed him on to David as he took
Phil’s hand and shook it. Cable had something good to say to each
boy as he shook their hand, but he paid special attention to Sam.
“Sam, you’re
looking fit and happy. You look as if you’re adjusting to your
new lifestyle well.”
“I suppose so,
Sir. As well as can be expected anyway. How have you
gentlemen been?”
“We’re well and
happy to be here today. We’re thrilled to have been invited by
Mr. Goodnight to share in the festivities today. We’ve had a
great time.”
“Are you the
gentlemen who examined us for our physicals?” asked Sam.
“Why, yes, we
are. I hope we were gentle enough with you.”
“You were
fine. None of my brothers had any complaints. As a matter
of fact we were all in awe of you and your brothers. Where do you
come from and where is your clinic?” inquired Sam.
“Our clinic
isn’t far from here and we are the sons of Master Long, the ramrod of
this ranch.”
“You’re Master
Long’s sons? I thought Lucas was his son. Oh, but wait a
minute. He looks a little like you men. You’re his older
brothers?”
“You might say
that. We’re considerably older than young Lucas. We’re
helping to raise him. We’re very proud of him and what he’s
accomplished. We’re also proud of the way he played football
today. We were rooting for him and his team.”
“Are you slaves,
too?”
“No, only young
Lucas is our father’s slave. He’s comfortable with his position,
and he has us to help him along. We love him very much.”
“I apologize if
I’ve asked too many questions, Sir. I didn’t mean to be a
bother.” Sam said, remembering his manners.
“Nonsense!
It’s quite all right. You’re naturally curious about the three
nude men who examined you. We’re always nude at the clinic
because when our patients are nude it seems to put them at ease for us
to be nude.”
“It shore’
worked for me, Sir. You men are remarkable. You must work
out a lot to keep your bodies so perfectly fit.”
“We have a
routine we complete every day to stay fit. The better we look the
more at ease our patients seem to be.”
The other
brothers were taking in all of this. Each had a question for the
men and they answered as best they could without giving a lot to the
Stamper brothers. Zeke complimented them on their cowboy outfits
and how authentic they looked.
“Having a cowboy
for a father, we learned how to dress Western at an early age; however,
we prefer to be nude most of the time. We practice nudity when
we’re alone at home. It’s just more comfortable for us. If
we’re warm and comfortable, we don’t see the need for clothing.”
“After seeing
you in the nude, I can understand why.” allowed Burt.
The boys asked a
lot of questions of other people about Lucas and got very little from
them. Lucas himself was cordial with them but wouldn’t linger in
conversation with them. He wasn’t rude to any of the boys, he was
just busy most of the time. When he wasn’t doing something with
his friends he was with his Master or one of the other men who seemed
to be so protective of him. He became more of a mystery to the
Stamper boys than he was before.
* * * * * * *
The afternoon
came to an end. Everyone said their goodbyes and thanked the
Goodnight brothers and ramrod Long for a wonderful day. The
Stamper brothers were most grateful for being included and shook
everyone’s hands in gratitude. They were wowed by the hairy men
at the ranch. They had met Ox but to meet a smaller version of
the big men and play football with him was an altogether different ball
game. They shook Ox’s big hand, Captain Trong’s, and Strom’s huge
paw. It was all Strom could do to keep from hugging each
one. With Captain Jones’ pregnancy, Strom was going into paternal
mode and anyone under the age of twenty fell under his protective urges.
All the guests
left and Charlie invited those left into the ranch house for a late
supper. The boys gave Ida Mae the evening off to be with Hank and
put out left overs from the noon meal. Lucas was in charge and
ran everything like a benevolent monarch. Ida was proud of
him. He’d come a long way and learned a lot from her. She
and Hank Morgan had supper with the men and then retired to her
house. J.R. stayed with his brothers to help clean up afterward
and join the men around the fireplace. It turned out to be a cool
evening.
Captain Trong
and Commander Fielding would be leaving to return to their ship with
their younger children. Kurg had such a good time he became a bit
withdrawn and began to cling to his human dad. The
Commander could read him like a book. There was a closeness
between them that was undeniable. He knew Kurg wanted to stay
with his brothers, but he wasn’t old enough and the time was not
right for him to be accepted into this society yet. His dad
held him, stroked him and told him quietly his time would come.
Trong and Kyle
were impressed with the ranch and whatever trepidations they might have
had about letting
the boys live there were washed away by the comradery of the day and
evening. Kurg’s brothers and Waco finally got him away from his
dad and engaged him in conversation about the day and football.
Kurg was enthralled with the game and spirit of being part of a team
effort. Waco promised Kurg he would see to it he spent a
good deal of time at the ranch. There was always time and room
for sleep overs.
Finally it came
time for the Trongs, David, Jonathan, and Cable to return to the
Bandersnatch. Arlen and Bryce would be staying the night with the
ramrod and his son. The men walked them out to the portal in the
barn to say ‘goodbye’ accompanied by two frisky dogs and one huge young
stallion who insisted on walking right behind Waco and Ox as close as
he could get to them. He was always amazed by the men
disappearing though the door of “blue light-water” he referred to
it. There were final handshakes and hugs and the company
departed.
The men said
their goodnights and headed for their respective houses. J.R.
started to walk with Lazarus and his men and Waco whistled to him.
“Hey, little
brother. Come with us. I got permission from your ma to
sleep over with us tonight. She and Hank need some time
alone.” Waco winked at J.R. and smiled. J.R.’s face
brightened and he smiled back and nodded knowingly.
“Really?
That’s great, brother. Who do I get to bunk it in with?”
“Take yore’
pick. Ox is gonna’ stay in the barn tonight with his dad and
there’s
just the four of us. We can all bunk it in the large bed if’n you
like.”
“That’d be
great.”
J.R. was happy
to be included with the older boys. He played his heart out at
football and was one of a few men, other than Waco and Lucas, who
played the entire game. Waco figured he would pass out as
soon as they got into bed and his prediction came true. They were
all tired.
* * * * * * *
Lazarus returned
with Lucas, Arlen and Bryce back to his house, followed close behind by
Bron, Bronc and Ts’gan. Bron and his boys said ‘goodnight’ and
went off to their room. Lazarus, Arlen, Bryce and Lucas went into
the kitchen and sat down around the table. Lazarus offered the
two older men a bit of bourbon. Bryce accepted, but Arlen
declined. He didn’t think it would be good for the bairns.
Lazarus already started to pour him a small amount but divided most of
it between his and Bryce’s glass. The rest, about one finger, he
sat in front of Lucas.
“Every tasted
good whiskey, Son?”
“Naw, Sir.
Ain’t never tasted any kind of alcohol.” Lucas answered.
“Sip it slowly
in small amounts. It’ll burn like the devil going down the first
time. It’s an acquired taste. If you don’t like it,
stop. You ain’t required to drink it.” Lazarus said firmly.
“I’d like to
taste it, Dad, but I don’t know about drinking it.”
“It’s up to you,
Son.”
Lucas slowly
raised the glass to his lips as the men watched. He took a small
sip and swallowed. His face turned bright red and he began to
choke and cough. Lazarus put his arm around him and patted him
gently on the back. Arlen and Bryce were trying not to laugh, but
Lazarus had such a concerned papa look on his face they could help
it. Arlen stopped long enough to speak.
“We ain’t
laughing at you, Son. We’re laughing at the memories of the first
time we ever tasted strong liquor. I reacted much worse than
you. I damn near passed out. I swore I’d never take another
drink of the shit and didn’t for several years.”
“Me, too, little
brother.” added Bryce. “I still don’t drink very
much. I ain’t that crazy about it.”
“I think that
will be my only try until I’m older, but I appreciate you letting
me taste it, Dad.”
Lazarus took the
rest and shared it with Bryce.
“Was it my
imagination today or were you smoother than I’ve ever seen you on the
playing field?” Lazarus raised an eyebrow at Lucas.
“Yeah, we
noticed it, too, little brother.” Bryce added.
“I shore’ felt
different. Everything just seemed to fall into place. I
think part of it was playing in front of and with Caleb’s
brothers. It was something else though. It was the love and
support I got from by brothers, and the men there what love me. I
could feel it, but it wasn’t only them, either. It was Scraps,
Happy, and certainly Ranger. I could also feel the
Kryscells. I gave them permission to ride along and experience
the game
with me. They were as encouraging and sometimes as rowdy at the
folks on the sidelines; especially, Blue Boy. I actually let him
take control and play several downs.”
“Blue Boy?
You mean the blue Kryscellian we managed to bring back to life?
You let him take control of your body?” Lazarus asked Lucas.
“Yes, Sir, we
don’t call him that, but he knows we think of him that way. He
knows we humans have nicknames for those we like and are close
to. He feels honored we gave him one. He caught on to the
game real quick and he handled my body with great precision. All
I had to do was let him take over, and I sat back and went along for
the ride.”
“Are you boys
working on a way to make them a bit more mobile?” Arlen asked.
“Yes, Sir,
Captain Jones. We’re working with them, Ox, Ping, Pong, Cable,
David and Jonathan. Waco’s in charge and he’s come up with some
remarkable ideas. I’m afraid I can’t tell you too much about
it. I’ve been sworn to secrecy. Of course I told them my
trust would have to be tempered by my Master’s wishes. They
understand my circumstances.”
“I won’t require
you to reveal anything to me, Son.” spoke up Lazarus. “At
some point we have to start trusting each other. I sat that task
for Waco to see what he could come up with. Since he’s included
you and wants your input, it would be wrong of me to insist you share
it. I trust you and Waco. Besides, you have too much good
guidance from some fine folks to go too far astray. Knowing Ping
and Pong you couldn’t go too far for them. Those two have a store
of knowledge we’re only beginning to learn about. They surpass
the Kryscellians in some areas. I’ll be looking forward to what
you men come up with.”
“So will
we. Can you give us a guesstimate about a time frame for
completion?” Bryce asked.
“It will depend
on certain factors of materials and availability of a few extra things
we’ll have to order and have especially made. Cable and Ping
assure us our ideas are within reason and feasible if somewhat
unorthodox.” Lucas chose his words carefully.
“Unorthodox?”
Lazarus smiled wryly at Lucas, took a sip of his drink and winked at
Arlen and Bryce. “I may regret saying this, but I like the sound
of that.” he laughed.
“I do, too, but
why do I get the feeling it’s going to be something us adults would
never think of and are not gonna’ be prepared for?” Arlen
chuckled. Bryce laughed, too.
“Most of the
ideas are Waco’s. The rest of us men have only made suggestions
to enhance or worked to confirm the plausibility of his concepts.
He’s definitely thinking outside the box. If we complete the
project the way Waco conceived it, I think you men will not only be
pleased, you will be blown away.” Lucas said softly, but couldn’t
help chuckle under his breath.
“Damnation!
He sounds like an engineer talking about his pet project and a
corporate diplomat trying to sell it to the government.” laughed
Lazarus.
They all shared
a laugh.
“One other
thing, Dad, since we’re talking about it.” Lucas said quietly.
“Yes?” replied
Lazarus.
“H’it ain’t
gonna’ be cheap.”
“I didn’t expect
it to be. If Waco put you up to feeling me out about it,
tell him and the rest of your crew, financing ain’t no problem.
The Kryscells have saved our butts too many times to scrimp on their
comfort. They are wonderful allies and good friends.
Whatever you men have in mind, it’s first class all the way.”
“I told Master
Waco you’d say that.” smiled Lucas.
* * * * * * *
After returning
to their ranch the Stamper boys showered and got ready for bed.
Blake always managed to have a brief bullshit session with the boys
before sending them to bed. They would discuss things that
happened to them during the day and were allowed to ask questions about
what was going on. It seemed to have the effect of bringing them
together and accepting Blake as their established leader. He
slowly earned the boy’s admiration and respect. They not only
cared about him, they trusted him and were even becoming protective of
him. He threw the floor open for discussion. They were
silent for a moment.
“Well, h’it
ain’t no secret who owns us no more.” said Jeb flatly. The
other boys looked at him quizzically. Sam got a big grin across
his face and chuckled, punched Jeb in the arm playfully and
nodded. Blake just grinned at him real big.
“I might a’
know’d you’d be the first one to figure it out.” Blake smiled as
he complimented Jeb. The other three obviously hadn’t come up
with anything yet.
“Who?” was
all Phil asked. Burt looked at Sam and Jeb.
“I didn’t pick
it up ‘til little brother said that. It was right under our noses
the whole time. It was almost too obvious.” Sam
stated. “Just think who them three cowboy vets work for.
Who’s their daddy?”
“You mean the
ramrod of the Goodnight ranch bought us?” asked Zeke.
“Good for you,
little brother!” Sam complimented him, “He’s got his own son for
a slave. Guess that would make Lucas Long our slave brother.”
“Is that right,
Boss?” Burt asked Blake for confirmation.
“E’aup,— Master
Long owns you men. You be his livestock. Just like his own
son is his livestock, and I’m Master Goodnight’s livestock.”
“Why all the
secrecy?” asked Phil.
“H’it ain’t no
secret. You just didn’t need to know before now.”
“Why ain’t we
working for him?” asked Zeke.
“You are.
What do you think you’re doing here? He’s footing the bill for
all this construction we’re doing. He’s helping expand Master
Hoot and Cotton’s business. He’s got a vested interest here and
in Master Charlie’s ranch. Eventually, you’ll work directly for
him. He’s real busy right now. He’s got a lot on his
plate. He don’t have time to work with you and train you himself,
so he contracted with Master Hoot and Cotton. Master Charlie
loaned him me to work with you men.”
“Where’d he get
money like that?” asked Burt.
“A slave don’t
need to know that sort a’ thing. You can think about it all you
like, but you don’t need to know. As a matter of fact, I don’t
even know. T’ain’t none of ma’ business. My business is
being the best damn slave I can for Master Charlie and doing the
best at any job he assigns me.”
“Are you happy
ride’n herd on us, Boss?” asked Zeke.
“What do you
think, Son?” Blake smiled at him.
“You seem to be
happy most of the time.” Zeke replied
“Of course, I’m
happy. You don’t have to be depressed being a slave. Did
you men have a good time today?”
“Great!”
said Sam.
“Wonderful!”
allowed Jeb and Zeke.
“We had a damn
good time, Boss.” Burt spoke for him and Phil. “I guess
when you don’t have it given to you all the time, when you have a good
day come along it makes you appreciate it more.”
“Good
observation, Burt.” Blake told him.
“All I can say
is there’s some strange things going on at the Goodnight ranch.”
“What’da ya’
mean, Phil?” Blake asked.
“All them hairy
men and animals talking to the humans. When that Border Collie
ran into our huddle and told Master Waco a play to run, I damn near
shit my pants. Can the female talk?”
“Naw, just
Scraps. He’s kind of a fluke.”
“And the big
draft horse,” added Jeb, “I heard him speak several times. How is
it a horse can talk?”
“Uh, he can’t,
Jeb. Ranger can’t speak.” said Blake cautiously, realizing
he might be in over his head.
“Meaning no
disrespect, Boss, but I heard him clear as day.” Jeb insisted.
“So did
I.” spoke up Zeke.
“I did, too,
Boss.” added Sam.
“Okay, I might
be wrong about that. Let me check it out and I’ll get back to
you. I’ve never heard him speak, but you’re right, sometimes
there’s some strange things go on around that ranch. It certainly
ain’t dull, though.”
“I wanna’ go
back as often as we’re allowed.” said Sam. The other
brothers agreed with him.
“Why do I get
the feeling we’re involved with something that’s beyond our
understanding right now?” Jeb asked rhetorically.
“Maybe you
are.” said Blake softly, “But I promise you, it ain’t bad.
Trust me, even as slaves, you’re more fortunate than you know.
Just keep going like you are now. Work hard, cooperate, learn and
keep your eyes and ears open. More will be revealed to you as
time goes on and your master feels you’re ready for it. I’ve seen
things since I was given this job that have made me stop and
wonder. Just give it a chance and let things progress in a
natural manner. You will be as amazed as I was and you will come
to understand why you’ve become slaves to Ramrod Long.”
“Our owner must
be well thought of and important. I seen him talking with the
other ranchers today and they were hanging on his every word.” said Sam.
“He is well
thought of. His ideas and opinions are highly valued, especially
in today’s world and our immediate community. You know how hectic
the world is we live in. You men were born after our country fell
to the right wing and became a one party Theocratic Democracy, they
call it, but h’it ain’t nothing like a real democracy like we had
before. I can barely remember it myself. Since they took
over, times have been rough for farmers and ranchers. They’ve
been left behind in a huge corporate run world.
If I had to
define in one word what’s happening to you men is an “adventure.”
Not just a ho-hum everyday adventure either. As Jeb suggested
earlier, a great adventure you have no concept of that will last the
rest of your lives and you are only in the first days. The fact
that you’re slaves is only a small part of the greater picture of
what’s to come. Have faith, gentlemen. Have faith in me,
have faith in your Masters, have faith in your owner, and most
importantly, have faith in yourselves.”
“I guess it’s
the everyday things what sometimes get to us, Boss.” said Burt.
“I can
understand that; however, look how far you’ve come. What was your
life like as brothers before you became slaves?”
“We was all the
time fighting with each other and our older brothers tried to make us
younger guys do everything for them like it was their due jes’ ‘cause
they’s older’n us. They wouldn’t do nothing for us.” spat out
Jeb, “Except for Sam. I guess ‘cause he’s in the middle he tried
to get along with both sides.”
“I think I’d
give Sam a little more credit than that.” allowed Blake.
“Okay, so it was you against them and all of you against your little
brother. Since you’ve been here how many fights have you had?”
“None.” said
Zeke.
“Why do you
think that is, Zeke?” Blake probed.
“‘Cause we work
side by side with ‘em all day and work jes’ as hard as they do.
We deserved to be respected and treated as equals if’n we’s pull’n our
weight.”
“Do you agree
with that, Burt,— Phil?”
“Yes, Sir,
Boss.” replied Phil for both.
“They ain’t such
little pests here, and we ain’t got nothing for ‘em to be get’n
into.” said Burt.
“How about
getting to know your younger brothers and what their individual values
are?”
“Yes, Sir.
There’s definitely that.” said Sam. “What’s happening is
we’re becoming something we never was before.”
“And what’s
that, Sam?” Blake coaxed him.
“— a
family.” responded Sam.
“Exactly!”
Blake emphasized. “All right,— that’s enough for tonight. Let’s
get to bed. We got us a full day tomorrow. I wanna’ get the
wiring and the last of the plumbing finished up. We’re way ahead
of schedule and part of this coming week I want us to start doing some
much needed repairs to the other cowboys' bunkhouse. It will go a
long way toward good public relations with them men.”
Blake asked Burt
to say an evening prayer and when he was done the boys departed,— all
except Burt.
“Boss,— you know
you’re becoming a part of our family.” he said as a statement and
not a question.
“Yes, I know,
and it feels great. I never had me no family when I’s growing up,
Burt. I never learned to give and take and appreciate folks
around me. Being Master Charlie’s slave-cowboy for these years
has taught me a lot. One thing is, I missed out by not having a
family; however, I’ve been given a second chance, and I ain’t gonna’
fuck it up. Maybe you and I are in the same boat, Burt. You
were ready to step out into adulthood on your eighteenth
birthday. You probably would a’ left your family behind and never
learned to appreciate them. Now, you’ve been given a second
chance. Make the most of it, Son, and I guarantee you won’t never
regret it.”
“Thanks,
Boss. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Son.”
* * * * * * *
When escrow paid
Elam Stamper for selling his boys into slavery, he asked for payment in
cash. He specified he wanted it in one thousand dollar
denominations, in five envelopes of fifty thousand each. They
gave him what he wanted. He took his five heavily ladened
envelopes home and promptly hid them where he could remember where he
put them. They were nowhere in or around the house in case of
fire and were sealed in large, heavy duty ziplock bags.
His female
companion, Betty Blanche Hightower, a local honky-tonk beer hall slut,
wore cheap clothes too young for her and even cheaper perfume.
Her heavily panted lips looked like two night crawlers trying to have
sex when she got drunk. She urged him to sell his boys into
slavery and asked all sorts of questions about what bank he had
his money in and was he going to sign her on as a joint account
holder? He refused to answer her questions; however, she began to
notice him disappearing to the side of the barn when he needed more
money for them to drink and play on.
After getting
Elam really drunk one night and making sure he was passed out in bed,
she took her flashlight and did a quick search of the area to the side
of the barn. She discovered his secret stash of almost fifty
thousand dollars. She didn’t bother to look further. She
quickly packed her bags and drove her pea-green Dodge Dart back to the
only bar on the outskirts of town, ‘Slim Pickin’s’ and joined a big
cowboy she had known for sometime who was in town for a few days
visiting relatives.
After fucking
her a couple of times in the bed of his pickup, out behind the bar, in
a drunken moment he asked her to leave the small town and come to the
Lubbock area with him where he worked as a roughneck in the oil
fields. After buying them both a drink, she told him she was
packed and ready to go. They left in his newer pickup truck, and
she left her car with her niece. She figured she had enough money
to buy herself a newer one. One that actually ran on all
cylinders and didn’t belch fire and smoke after every full stop.
Betty Blanche’s
new boyfriend was Jack Hall. He was a rough talking, beer
swilling, redneck cowboy who went through women like shit through a
long necked goose. He was good looking, knew how to dress like a
cowboy and reportedly had the dick of death. His license plate on
his big black Ford duelly pickup read: HUNG 10 It was no
lie, and he knew how to use it. B. B., as she was called by her
intimates, thought she had it made. She had herself the cowboy of
her dreams and fifty thousand dollars in the bottom of her purse.
They drove to
Lubbock together, but she was wise enough not to flash a lot of
money. She let Jack pay for most everything; however, she did
manage to get a one thousand dollar bill changed at a truck stop and
began spending a little of Elam’s money. It took them two days to
get to Lubbock and another day to settle in before Jack had to go back
to work and leave B.B. at home by herself.
He lived on his
own small ranch out away from town about ten miles. There was nothing
around for miles. Jack’s place was in the middle of
nowhere. There were no neighbors for miles in either
direction. It was pretty bleak and desolate; however, B.B.
figured she’d soon get a small car and could leave any time she
wanted. She just wouldn’t let Jack know about the money she stole
from Elam.
Elam discovered
the next day his sweety had robbed him and skipped town with Jack
Hall. He didn’t let on to anyone she made off with his
money. He drove around town and saw B.B.’s car sitting in the
driveway of her niece. He casually went to the door to inquire if
B.B. was there, knowing full well she wasn’t. B.B.’s niece was
full of regrets and information for Elam as to where she was.
Jack’s license plate was known by everyone and burned into Elam’s
memory like a cattle brand. He had no trouble casually inquiring
of his cousin who worked at the Sheriff’s station the address of his
old buddy from DMV records for the State of Texas.
He went home,
threw a few clothes in a duffle bag, got his twelve gage shotgun he
used for turkey shooting and killing jackrabbits, threw them behind the
seat of his truck and set out for Lubbock. He had no trouble
finding Jack’s spread and parked his truck away from the house behind a
large water tank. He had his field binoculars and watch what went
on for a day. He figured out Jack would leave around six in the
evening, every evening because he was on the swing shift on an oil rig.
The second
evening, a couple of hours after Jack drove away, Elam took his
shotgun, loaded it and walked under the cover of night to the
house. He could see B.B. walking around in her slip in the
house. He watched her get up from the T.V. to walk down the hall
to the kitchen to get herself another beer. Elam silently let
himself into the room through the screen door.
When she
returned to the living room a look of fear and horror spread across her
face as she saw Elam with his gun leveled at her head. She never
had a chance to speak a word when he unloaded both barrels into her
face. The impact not only blew her lovely night crawlers away, it
lifted her up and knocked her backward down the hallway about six feet
into the kitchen where she slammed up against the refrigerator with a
dull thud, then slid to the floor on her ass. Her arms and legs
were flailing about like a puppet whose strings had become entangled
and the puppeteer could no longer control its actions.
Elam walked down
the hallway, stepping over her flopping body and into the main bedroom
of the house. He looked into Jack’s closet and found what he was
looking for. He knew every cowboy living out away from town would
have his own collection of guns. He found Jack’s twelve gage,
fully loaded and returned to the kitchen. B.B. was still
flopping uncontrollably and letting out mewing sounds like a cat that
was going through the throws of death. He cocked the gun and
unloaded both barrels into her chest, stopping her heart
immediately. B.B. stopped twitching.
Elam was wise
enough to wear gloves and threw the smoking gun across the table in the
kitchen. He returned to the bedroom and found B.B.’s purse.
He emptied the contents on the bed and found his plastic, ziplock bag
with the manilla envelope in it. He saw she had cashed one of his
bills and took the majority of the larger bills but left some. He
didn’t bother to open it and count it. He knew, without a doubt,
from the weight of it, B.B. was too stupid to hide any of the
money. She never thought Elam would have the balls to come after
her. She gambled and lost.
Elam got what he
came after, his job was done, and he left. He took an old branch
off a tree he found in the yard and dragged it behind him covering his
footprints in the dirt as he walked away from the house. In ten
minutes he was back to his truck, popped the top on a cold can of beer
and took a couple of heavy pulls. When he finished, he threw the
can into the back of the truck, started the motor and headed back home.
Jack returned
home around two o’clock in the morning to the carnage. At first
he was concerned someone might still be in the house, but when he saw
his own gun on the table he knew there wasn’t anyone there. He
walked into his bedroom and found B.B.’s purse and everything dumped
out on the bed. He began to put two and two together. He
went to the fridge and got himself a beer. He had to push B.B.’s
body out of the way to get the door open. He tried hard not to
look at her. He got an old tarp off the back porch he used for
painting and threw it over her. He went into the living room and
sat down on the sofa.
What was he
going to do? His mind was racing as he took a long hit from his
cold can of beer. What happened while he was gone? His
immediate reaction was to call the sheriff and let him handle it, but
instead he decided to cool down for a bit and think about it. The
only thing he could think of was Elam got jealous and came after
B.B. No, he didn’t think Elam was that taken with her. She
asked him several times to marry her, but he refused every time.
He knew Elam sold his boys into slavery and was rumored to get a lot of
money for them. With Betty’s purse emptied on the bed, whoever
was there was looking for something specific. They didn’t even
take all the money. There was still a couple of hundred dollars
left.
Then it began to
jell in his mind. B.B. ripped him off and Elam came after his
money. She didn’t tell Jack anything about it. She placed
him in jeopardy without his knowledge, and she got her damn head blown
off. If Elam was jealous, he would’ve been after Jack as
well. He could’ve easily taken out both of them, but he
didn’t. He waited until Jack went to work. His beef wasn’t
with Jack, it was with B.B. Elam was smart. He killed her
with Jack’s gun. From the looks of her, she was hit twice, but he
knew the sheriff wouldn’t care about that. She was dead and it
was Jack’s gun that killed her. He would have a lot of explaining
to do.
Finally, a smile
slowly crossed Jack’s face. Elam played his cards right.
Jack knew the sheriff would find no trace of Elam around the place and
in a rush to justice, there was a good chance Jack would be charged
with her murder. Even if, by some slim chance, he wasn’t
convicted, there would be a bundle to pay in attorney fees for his
defense and he knew, beyond a doubt, he would lose his job; probably
lose his truck and ranch as well.
He wasn’t going
to let that happen. His granddaddy told him a story one time of a
dog who had to cross a railroad track to get home and got the tip of
his tail caught in the tracks. The train was coming and the dog
frantically tried to bite his tail off to get away; however, the train
ran over him and cut his head off.
“You know what
the moral to that story is, boy?” his granddad asked him.
“Naw, Sir.
What, Granddad?” Jack asked.
“Don't never
lose yore'
head over a little piece a’ tail.” the old man answered.
Jack was more
relaxed after his beer and returned to the kitchen. He tucked the
tarp in and around B.B.’s dead body and carried her out and laid her in
the back of his pickup truck. He had a camper shell on the back
with dark tinted windows. He threw in his shovel and pick
and locked the back. He returned to the kitchen, made himself a
sandwich, got the three last beers in the fridge, climbed into his
truck and headed out to the badlands behind his house.
It was a hot,
West Texas night. The moon was shining just enough you could see
everything in the desert and the stars were brilliant. There
wasn’t a cloud in the sky. After traveling for nearly forty-five
minutes, Jack came to a secluded canyon he knew about and stopped the
truck. He turned his radio on low to his favorite Country and
Western station and popped himself another beer. He sat it on the
hood of the truck and walked to the back. He got out his pick and
shovel and began to dig a grave in the hard packed sand. It took
him about an hour to dig a hole about three feet deep and six feet
long. He guessed she wasn’t taller than five feet six. He
stuck his shovel in the sand for the last time and leaned his arms and
chin against it to rest. The work made him hot and horny.
He took his
shirt off and threw it into the seat of the truck and walked back to
the rear. The tarp had come undone and he could see B.B. hadn’t
been wearing anything under her slip. He could see her cunt wide
open in the moonlight. He reached in and felt her. It was
such a hot night rigor mortis hadn’t set in. She was still warm
to the touch. Jack’s dick went from semi- flaccid to rock
hard. Should he? He’d heard about weirdos who liked
to stop by a mortuary now and then for a cool one, but he didn’t think
he could do anything like that; however, there it was,— just grinning
at him.
Before he gave
it a second thought, Jack had his Wranglers down to his boot tops and
was easing his big cowboy dick into B.B.’s cunt. It wasn’t as bad
as he thought it might be. Hell, he’d fucked women who were more
loose than her. It began to feel pretty damn good to him.
Jack fucked her for all he was worth and unloaded a huge cowboy wad
into her. He finally pulled out and wondered if he should wait
for a while and fuck her again before he buried her.
‘Naw,’ he
thought, ‘I won’t tempt fate. To fuck her once put the period at
the end of our sentence for old time’s sake. To fuck her twice
would be downright plumb sick.’
He wrapped her
up good in the tarp and placed her in the hole. It only took him
a few minutes to cover her and make the area look undisturbed. He
sat big rocks around on top so the coyotes couldn’t dig her up.
When he was through, he loaded his tools in the back of his truck and
closed it. He got his last beer and sat on a big rock overlooking
B.B.’s grave enjoying the last few minutes of the desert night.
“Sorry it came
down to this, babe,” he said as he toasted her with his beer,
“but you just should a’ never stole that cowboy’s money. I guess
I should say some holy words over you, but I can’t remember me
none. I never was much of a church goer. I hope the good
Lord forgives you and takes you home with him. Wish’t we could a’
had a little more time together,— at least until we got tired a’ one
another. You were a pert-damn good piece a’ ass. Thanks for
the final fuck in the truck. Even dead, you was damn good.
I fucked me some scags in my day what weren’t no better
alive. Maybe my baby boys’ll help you rest in peace.
I know off-load’n ‘em’s gonna’ make me sleep good. Adios,
darlin.’ Until we meet again in that big honky-tonk in the
sky. Say ‘hello’ to Patsy and ole Hank for me.”
Jack finished
his beer and returned to the truck. He threw the can on the
floorboard. He knew better than to leave anything around.
He slowly drove home as the sun was coming up in the East. He got
home and did a cursory clean up of the mess, showered and went to
bed. He slept like a baby. He had the next evening off so
he spent the day burning B.B.’s clothes behind the barn. He
loaded her personal belongings in a black plastic bag and threw it in
the back of his truck. He always carried his garbage to work with
him and threw it into one of the huge dumpsters. No one ever
looked in the bags and they were taken to a landfill daily.
Within a couple
of days everything was back to normal, and there was no trace B.B. was
ever at his place. When a buddy asked about the woman he brought
back with him, Jack told him she’d already moved on. B.B.’s niece
called him a couple of times, and he told her the same thing. He
told her how disappointed he was she left him, but he’d recover.
She invited him to stop in to see her the next time he was in
town. He promised he would.
Jack didn’t
visit his folks until about a year later for the annual Fourth of July
rodeo. He stayed with B.B.’s young niece and fucked her the whole
time he was there. He had no compunction about drinking in the
honky-tonk where he met B.B., and sure enough, after a while, Elam
Stamper strolled in. He saw Jack sitting down the bar and nodded
to him. He bought a beer and told the bartender he wanted to buy
the cowboy down the bar one. The bartender sat another beer in
front of Jack and he raised his bottle in thanks to Elam. Later
they sat together and talked about old times. They never once
spoke of Betty Blanche.
End Of Chapter
20 ~ Waco’s Lummox
Copyright 2006 ~
Waddie Greywolf
All Rights
Reserved ~
Mail to:
waddiebear@yahoo.com