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A Mexican Sunrise: Chapter 6: Gambling woes
Isaac sat thinking, sipping his beer. At a
table in the front corner of the room sat a group of three men playing
poker. Isaac had noticed them when he walked into the salon. Had this been
a pay day for him, he probably would have asked to join in their game. The
group had not been able to hear Issac and Charlie's discussion, but they
did see Charlie give Isaac five dollars.
As Isaac was leaving, one of the men yelled
to him, "Hey, partner. Would you like to join us for a friendly game?"
One of Isaac's weaknesses was gambling. He
knew he should go straight to the tailor and buy a suit, but the offer was
very tempting. "I don't know. I don't think I have time. Thanks, though."
He replied, convincing not even himself.
"Oh, come on now. Just a couple of hands. You
got time for that, don't you?"
"Are you playing for money?"
"Wouldn't be poker if we weren't, now would
it?"
"No, I guess not. What's the ante?"
A smile crept across the man's face. "A
nickel."
"That's too expensive for me." Isaac
recoiled.
"What? I just saw your friend give you five
dollars."
"That's not really money I should use in a
poker game." Isaac put his hand in his pocket and began to unconsciously
pick up the coins and allow them to fall back through his fingers.
"Surely you can spare some of it just for a
couple of hands." He knew he almost had Isaac convinced.
"Well, my friend is expecting me. . ."
"A couple of hands won't take too long."
"Okay. Deal me in." Isaac walked over to the
table and put a nickel on the table. The man that had been speaking was
also the dealer. He dealt the cards to each player.
"Give me three." Isaac said. Two of the
other players also took three, and the last took only two.
"What do you want to do?" The dealer asked
Isaac.
Isaac looked at his cards. He had never
gotten such a good hand in his life. He hoped that he hadn't tipped his
hand by showing excitement. He didn't notice that his hands were also
shaking slightly. With a slight nervousness in his voice he said. "I'll
raise a nickel." Don't want to raise too much just yet. Maybe I can bait
them into a big pot. The others saw his raise, and the dealer raised
him another nickel. Uh oh. I wonder if he has a better hand than I
do. He looked at his cards. A straight flush, jack high. There's no
way he can beat that. Only two hands could beat that.
"Okay, I'll see your nickel and raise you a
dime." The other men showed obvious surprise at this move. Ha, got them
on their heels now. One of the men folded, the other saw his bet, and
the dealer once again raised him a nickel. They must be just trying to
bluff me now since the pot has gotten so big. Well, I'll show them.
"I'll raise another dime."
The other man folded, but the dealer saw his
dime once again and called. "Let's see what you got."
Isaac excitedly put his cards down. "Straight
flush, jack high!"
"Dammit!" The dealer said, putting down a
full house.
"I've never had a hand that good in my
life!" Isaac exclaimed, pulling the pot toward him.
"Must be your lucky day. Alright boys, ante
up again."
To his surprise, his won his next four hands
as well. Must be my lucky day! He lost the sixth hand, but won the
next three. He had won over dollar, and an hour had passed, but he hadn't
noticed the time. He was on a winning streak the likes he had never been
on. Once the tenth hand was dealt out, he had four aces. He once again
started by raising a nickel, then a dime at a time. One of the other men
continued to raise his bet. Once again, Isaac believed that since the pot
had gotten so large he was just trying to bluff him into folding. I'll
try raising a quarter. That should scare him into folding. The man saw
and raised that bet. Dangit. Maybe two quarters will end this. It
did not.
Isaac looked down at his cards. He knew he
was going to win this hand. There was no way the man across from him could
beat four aces. Was there? The doubts crept into his mind. But, he had
already dipped into the money that Charlie had given him, and he had to get
it back. He finally put down his quarter. "I see you and call."
"What do you have?" The man asked, flashing
a quick smile towards the dealer.
Isaac gleefully put down four aces. "Four of
a kind."
"That's a great hand. But, is that better
than a straight flush, seven high?"
Isaac's heart sank. He had just lost over six
dollars, leaving him with seventy-five cents.
"Well gentlemen, that's enough for one day.
We should head back to the ranch."
Isaac protested "Wait, you can't stop now.
Give me a chance to win something back. I can't leave here with only
seventy-five cents. I started with over five dollars."
"Sorry, but we have to go. Maybe we'll see
you around tomorrow."
"Come on, one more hand!" Isaac pleaded.
"Well, since you were such a good sport, here
take this." The dealer gave Isaac a quarter.
"No, I need a chance to win my money back.
More than just a quarter."
"We'll see you around." With that, the men
left.
Isaac felt devastated. He had lost plenty of
money in past poker games, but at least it had been his money. He didn't
know if he could face Charlie. Five dollars was a lot of money. Maybe he
could go to the tailor and get a suit for the dollar he had left. Maybe
even on credit. If I give him a dollar as down payment, surely he'll
extend me enough credit for the rest. Then after we're done with our
robbery I can come back and pay him the rest. Or if that won't work, maybe
there will be a nice fitting suit at the ready-to-wear store. He knew
that wasn't likely, but he held out hope.
He stood up and walked slowly out the door.
At the tailor he asked about credit, but was refused. A suit costs four
dollars, and he couldn't just give anybody with a dollar in their pocket a
suit on credit. Isaac then went to the read-to-wear store, but there wasn't
a complete suit that properly fit him. He dawdled at the store until it
closed, delaying facing Charlie for as long as he could.
As Isaac walked toward his meeting with
Charlie, he thought about what he was going to say and imagined how the
conversation would go.
Hey. He would say jovially. I was just
reminded of another liability that I have.
Oh, what is that?
I have a bad habit of gambling my money away.
Is that so?
Yes.
What reminded you of that?
I lost most of the money you gave me playing
poker today.
What!
Isaac didn't know what would happen after
that. He imagined Charlie exploding in anger, but hoped the light
hearted manner in which he was going to tell him would lessen the blow.
Perhaps they could even have a laugh about it.
Isaac arrived at his door. He opened it and
walked it, finding Charlie reading the newspaper, although it wasn't the
same one that he had bought earlier. He saw a stack of newspapers, one from
each of the stacks he had seen earlier at the general store. Before Isaac
could speak, Charlie looked up. "Hey, when will your suit be ready?"
When will my suit be ready? You mean I
wasn't expected to walk out with it? Maybe I don't have to tell Charlie I
lost his money after all. He nervously responded, "Uh, a couple of
days."
"Really! That's one fast tailor. Are you
sure you aren't returning for a fitting?"
"Oh, maybe that's what he meant. I guess I
misunderstood."
Isaac could see that knowing look in
Charlie's eyes again, the same look he had when he figured out that Charlie
couldn't read. Maybe he saw me playing poker when bought those other
newspapers. He decided to change the subject.
"Anything interesting in the papers?"
"Nah, just the usual stuff. What were your
measurements?"
"My measurements?" What is he talking
about?
"At the tailor. What were your
measurements?"
"Oh, I don't know. He didn't say. Just wrote
them down."
"Oh, okay."
Isaac could tell Charlie wasn't convinced.
I should just tell him the truth right now. No, tomorrow I'll get the
tailor to take my measurements and try to find some way to come up with the
rest of the money.
"Did you happen to get the price of a bowler
hat?"
"A what? Uh, No. Should I have?"
"Why don't you go back tomorrow and get one.
Here's some money for it." Charlie put five dollars on the table. "You'll
look pretty sharp in a suit and hat."
Isaac's heart jumped into his throat when he
saw Charlie put the money on the table. He does know! But, if he doesn't
maybe I can get the hat and suit for what I have now. "I don't know how
I'll ever thank you."
"If we succeed in getting that train robbed,
that's all the thanks I need."
"I hope we do. I know how much you want to
get back to your wife."
"Let's get some sleep. We have a full day of
preparation tomorrow."
"Alright."
Isaac didn't sleep well that night. He felt
bad for trying to deceive Charlie. He also worried that Charlie knew. That
made it even worse. What does he think of me if he knows and I'm not
fessing up to it? A few times he decided to admit his mistake to
Charlie, but every time he looked over Charlie was sound asleep. After much
tossing and turning, he finally fell into a restless sleep.
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February 03, 2007
August 28, 2006
A Mexican Sunrise: Chapter 5: More planning
Charlie and Isaac walked to Deming after their breakfast. They did not speak much, as worry about guards on the train occupied Isaac's mind. Isaac also saw that Charlie was wrapped up in thoughts of his own, so decided to remain silent. He might be trying to figure out how to get past the guards. I don't want to interrupt him in the middle of figuring it out. "I have to go to the post office to drop something off." Charlie said once they reached the city limits. "Okay." Charlie handed Isaac a quarter. "Why don't you go get a copy of the latest newspaper? And head over to the train station and look at the train schedule. That way we can make sure when the train stops here." "Okay." Isaac didn't want to admit to Charlie that he couldn't read. He hoped that he could just go to the general store and ask for the paper and ask someone at the train station when the train stopped. "Meet me at the salon once you're finished." "Okay." With that, Charlie headed to the post office. Isaac went to the general store first and headed straight to the cashier, walking past the tables of canned foods and clothing. "I need a copy of the latest newspaper." He said. The cashier gestured to a stack of papers at the end of the counter. "Take your pick." This situation was just what Isaac had feared. He walked over to the papers and looked at them for a moment. He looked up and walked away from the papers for a moment, pretending to study the shelf of dry goods next to the papers. He knew enough to recognize numbers, so he hoped he might be able to figure it out that way. "What's today?" He asked the cashier. "Wednesday." "No, I mean the date." "The 25th." "Thanks." Isaac went back and looked down at the papers. Twenty-fifth. I need a paper with a 2 and a 5 next to each other. He scanned the top paper on each of the four stacks, finally seeing the number 25 on one of them. He picked it up and took it to the cashier to pay. The cashier looked at the paper, then at Isaac with a confused look. Isaac noticed, but didn't react. The cashier told Isaac the total. Isaac put the quarter down on the counter. The cashier counted out the change and placed it in Isaac's outstretched hands. "Thank you, sir. Have a good day." "Thank you." Isaac replied, taking the newspaper and walking out the door. He felt a sense of relief, but was also now worried that he had made an error. But it has 25 on the top, and today is the 25th. Oh, that cashier probably just thought he recognized me. Funny, as long as I've been here I've never seen him. Isaac walked down the street, leaving faint footprints in the fine sand. He passed the barber shop and its faded red and white candy striping, the salon with swinging doors, and the bank. Glancing into the windows of the bank, he saw Charlie standing at the teller window. That's strange. I thought he was going to the post office. I wonder what he's doing in the bank? Isaac stopped and watched Charlie for a bit. The teller pushed an envelope toward Charlie. Charlie took it, nodded to the teller, then turned and made eye contact with Isaac. Isaac quickly looked away and started walking briskly toward the train station. Dangit! I hope he doesn't think I was spying on him. I wonder if he'll mention it later. Dangit, why do I do stuff like this. I just have just gone straight to the train station like he said instead of peeping in on him. None of my business what he was doing in there. Probably just getting money to buy our train tickets. Isaac was so busy beating himself for spying on Charlie that he almost walked right past the train station without realizing it. Once he realized where he was he took a deep breath and walked inside. The only person in the station was the ticket agent. He looked up and greeted Isaac with an enthusiastic, "Howdy". Isaac replied likewise, but had grown nervous again. He could see the train schedule posted right next to the ticket window. Dangit! He knew he would have to ask the agent what time the train left out of here and when he did the agent would know he couldn't read. "Do you need a ticket? If so, don't look at the schedule. The schedule was changed this morning and we haven't gotten the new one posted yet." A look of obvious relief filled Isaac's face, as well as an audible sigh. Sometimes I can't catch break. Sometimes I can. Must be my lucky day. Maybe I'll see if there's any available ladies of marrying age around here today. "Can I help you?" The agent inquired. "Oh, yes. What time does the train leave from here?" "Depends on which way you're going." "Oh." Charlie didn't say which way we would go. I guess I should get both times. "Well, I was sent here by people that need to know both." "Okay." The agent thought that was little strange, but he had seen stranger. "The westbound train leaves each Monday morning at 8:06 a.m. The eastbound train leaves each Friday afternoon at 3:19 p.m. Is there anything else you need?" "No, that's all. Thank you very much." "Have a good day, sir." "Thank you. You too." The agent smiled and nodded at Isaac. Isaac left, again wondering why he had never seen the man behind the ticket counter in all the time he had lived in Deming. I must not get out too much. I guess I never take the train anywhere or go into the general store. Isaac's thoughts began to worry him again as he approached the salon. I wonder what Charlie is going to say to me. I wonder if he's mad at me for spying on him at the bank. Gosh, what am I going to say. Maybe he didn't recognize me. Maybe he won't say anything. I'll just act normal, and maybe he'll have forgotten. Isaac walked timidly through the swinging doors. He saw Charlie sitting alone at one of the tables and there were two beers on the table. He walked over to the table and Charlie motioned him to sit down. "Hey Charlie." Isaac said nervously, but attempting to remain calm. "Can I see that newspaper before you kill it?" "Huh, oh, yes. Heh-heh." In his nervousness, he had rolled up the newspaper and had begun to squeeze it tightly. He unrolled it and put it on the table. He then picked up his beer and took a nervous sip. Charlie looked down at the paper. "Would you take a look at that? The president is coming here to Deming." "Really?" "Yes, it's the headline. Take a look here." Isaac looked down at the headline. Even though he couldn't read it, he took a moment to look at it thoughtfully and took another sip from his beer before replying. "Isn't that something?" Charlie eyed Isaac suspiciously. "Yes, that is something." "That will be exciting." "You can't read, can you?" "What? Don't be crazy. Why would you think that?" "Because this headline says nothing about the president." Charlie knew he had been discovered. Oh well. Probably better he know. "No, I can't read." "Don't be ashamed. There's plenty of people that can't read. And it says nothing about your smarts." "You don't think I'm stupid because I can't read?" "No. But, it is something I'm glad I found out now. We have to know all of our liabilities while doing our planning. If there's anything else you need to share with me, then you should tell me." He did see me watching him at the bank. I guess I should fess up. That's got to be what he's talking about. "I saw you at the bank." "I know. Were you spying on me?" "No. I was just surprised to see you in there." "I was preparing to send some money to my wife. Everytime I get a little bit saved up, I send her what I can." "Oh, I see." "That's why I went to the post office." "Oh, okay. That makes sense." "What does the train schedule look like?" "Oh, do you want eastbound or westbound?" "Westbound." "It leaves every Monday morning at 8:06 a.m." "What time does the east bound leave?" "Every Friday afternoon at 3:19 p.m." "All right." Charlie took a deep gulp from his beer and thought for a moment. "You should get some nicer clothes." "Why?" "We want to look like professionals when we board the train. You'll get better treatment that way." "I guess it will also make me look less suspicious." Charlie's eyes grew wide. "Shhh. We don't talk about that in here." He whispered loudly. "Oh, sorry." Isaac whispered back sheepishly. Charlie looked around the salon. There weren't many people in there, and the few that were there didn't seem to have noticed their conversation. "Drink up and head over to the tailor." "The tailor?" Isaac was surprised. "You mean not to the ready-to-wear store?" "No. The chances of finding something that fits you well there are pretty low. You want to look professional, so we want something that fits you properly." "But I can't afford that." "Don't worry. I'll pay for it." Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out five dollars. "Here, that should be enough for a full sack suit. They are quite fashionable now days." "Well, I just don't know what to say. Thank you." "It's an investment. Now head on over there." He gulped down the rest of his beer, picked up the newspaper and stood to leave. "Where do you live?" "I have a room at the edge of town." v"Do you mind if I go wait for you there? It would be nice to have a nice quiet place to read and think." "Sure, no problem." Isaac pulled a key from his pocket and gave it to Charlie. "Thanks." As Charlie left, Isaac followed him with his eyes out the door. He couldn't help but question what Charlie had just proposed. If he can afford to buy tailor fitted clothes, then why does he need to rob a train?
May 19, 2006
A Mexican Sunrise: Chapter 4: Rosalia
A young boy was running down the street away from the brothel, his feet kicking up dust. Rosalia chuckled to herself. Probably just trying to get a peek in one of the windows and got caught again. Rosalia was sitting on the porch, trying to enjoy what little bit of evening breeze had worked itself up. She was fanning herself with a Japanese fan given to her by one of the brothels richer clients. Of course he had just been passing through, but he thought Rosalia the kindest and sweetest woman he had ever met in such a place, and such a woman deserved the beautiful fan he had given her. He told her that she reminded him of the Geisha he had seen while in Japan. Rosalia herself was not beautiful. She was not repulsive either, but there were plenty of women, even at the brothel, more beautiful in appearance that her. But there was a beauty underneath her physical appearance in how she carried herself and how she spoke. Her skin was clear and the color matched the desert in which she lived. With her brown eyes she followed the boy until he was out of site. She closed her eyes and sat back in her chair, her mind focused on how the breeze felt against her face. She was wearing her favorite dress, a black house dress with a small white flower print. Although the original owner had worn it while performing daily chores, in her eyes it was the most beautiful thing she had found in the ready-to-wear store. Just as she was beginning to nod off, a voice called out. "Rosalia!" I wonder what they need now, Rosalia thought to herself. "Rosalia, can you come here for a minute!" the voice called again. Rosalia knew it was one of the girls, one who typically never had any problems. "I'll be right there." Rosalia replied, shaking off the drowsiness. The planks of the porch squeaked as she walked toward the door. Once she entered she immediately knew what the problem was. "Isdel, what do you want this time? Did Sheriff Antonio send you over here, because we already paid him this month?" "Rosalia, why must you always assume I have some sinister motive for coming here? Is there anything wrong with wanting to visit my true love and future wife?" He replied. "I'm never going to marry you. You're a drunk, a cheat, and a thief." "Now, Rosalia, you're too harsh. I'm sober now." "No you're not. I can spell the alcohol on you. I forgot to mention that you're also a liar." "Come now, my love. The house mother of a whorehouse really shouldn't be passing judgement," his voice showing agitation. "Perhaps not. If all you really wanted in coming here was to see me, you've succeeded. Now please leave." "Is Isabella available?" "You have a lot of nerve!" Rosalia was disgusted. It was not the first time Isdel had dropped by to proclaim his love for her, only to then ask for one of the ladies. "A man has needs." "Yes, Isabella is available. Wait here while I get her." Rosalia left to go upstairs. "I presume I'll get my usual discount." He yelled after her. "I presume we have no choice." She yelled back down the stairs. Isdel said nothing more because he knew it was true. As part of the arrangement that he, the sheriff, and the mayor had with the brothel, they could each visit anytime they liked at no cost. They spun it as a small price to pay for looking the other way and thus allowing the brothel to stay in town. Although, as often as they visited, Rosalia wished they would actually start looking the other way. Five minutes later, Rosalia returned with Isabella. Isabella was smiling and flirtatious toward Isdel, even though she was revolted by his presence. It wasn't that Isdel was an unattractive man. He was handsome. Tall, black hair, and gorgeous brown eyes. What was revolting was the seedy aura around him. Once Isdel and Isabella had gone upstairs, Rosalia went back to her chair on the porch. Her mind drifted to thoughts of how she very nearly married Isdel and then to Charlie. Ten years earlier, she had been set to marry Isdel. She thought him a very handsome man who could provide a good life for herself and the children she dreamed of having. After her parents had been killed by a raiding Indian war party, he had been there to take care of her. He had always been good to her and she looked with eager anticipation toward their wedding day. That was until the night she learned the truth of Isdel's character. She had gone for a walk one night as was her habit when she had trouble sleeping. She normally took a route through the entire town. As she was walking past the brothel, praying for the women and patrons inside, Isdel staggered out, drunk. Another patron ran out after him, yelling that Isdel had taken his watch and money. Isdel seemed to ignore the man, and started walking toward the salon without seeing Rosalia. The man ran toward Isdel, yelling. Once he was almost caught up to Isdel, Isdel turned with his gun drawn. The man stopped short, less than a yard away. Isdel shot him in the heart, turned, and continued walking. Rosalia watched the whole incident in stunned silence. The next morning she called off the wedding, even though it meant gossip and controversy. She just could not marry Isdel. He stood against everything she believed. He protested and denied that he had been at the brothel, but Rosalia knew what she had seen. Isdel even had the mayor and sheriff vouch for him, but she stood firm. It was during this time that she learned of the corruption in her town. The mayor, the sheriff, and Isdel formed a corrupt triumvirate that lined their own pockets at the expense of the citizens. She also now doubted the story that he had told her about her parents' deaths. A short while after ending her engagement to Isdel, a Mormon missionary by the name of Charlie arrived in town. He was deeply devoted to his faith and was very charismatic. Even though he and Rosalia shared different faiths, she was a devout Catholic, they became very close through their common faith in God and in doing good. It was for this reason that he stayed in Del Rio after his two year mission would have normally been completed. One day he surprised Rosalia by asking her to marry him. She happily accepted, knowing that God had sent him to her. Soon after their marriage, it became apparent that they were having trouble conceiving. Charlie had always been strong in his faith and accepted what came his way, but the inability of he and Rosalia to conceive was very difficult on him. On top of that, he had suffered several setbacks in his mission. The temple that he and several of his converts had began constructing burned down. In addition, a few of his fledging congregation had mysteriously disappeared. Rosalia suspected Isdel in the fire and disappearances, but had no evidence or recourse. She only knew of Isdel's vow to marry her and the intense jealously he had for her and Charlie's marriage. She did not tell Charlie her suspicions. The setbacks eventually become too much for Charlie and he began neglecting his mission, at one point declaring that God had forsaken him. He took to drinking and became belligerent toward the town residents, but remained faithful to Rosalia and never hurt her. She remained steadfast in her faith and believed that Charlie would eventually return to his old self. One night after an especially pleasant dinner, Charlie and Rosalia made love. Afterwards, he left for the bar. He simply got dressed, and started to leave. She always caught him before he left and kissed him good by. They said their "I love you's". She had not seen Charlie since that night. The next morning she went to the sheriff, knowing it was likely to do no good, and asked if anyone had seen Charlie. The sheriff rounded up a posse that included Isdel and they went off in search of him. After a couple of nights away, they returned with a story that he had probably been killed by a gang of outlaws. Rosalia knew that wasn't true, but she held on to her hope that Charlie remained alive and would one day return. Soon after Charlie's disappearance, Isdel once again attempted to court Rosalia. He told her she needed a man to provide for her, that she couldn't support herself. She always politely responded that she would rather starve homeless than live a life of luxury with a man the likes of him. However, she did realize she would have to find some way to support herself, and that is how she came to work at the brothel. It was the only place in town that would give her work, and she suspected Isdel was behind that as well. The front door slammed shut, rousing Rosalia from her thoughts. "Nice girl, that Isabella." Isdel said. "Yes, she is." Rosalia replied. "Very soft skin. Beautiful breasts. And that ass of hers . . ." "That's quite enough. Why don't you go find somebody at the bar to harass now." "Oh, don't be jealous, my Rosalia." The young boy that ran down the street earlier walked up the steps and onto the porch. "Why, hello there. Have you gotten yourself into any trouble today? Did you find your father yet?" Isdel asked the boy. The boy remained silent. Even he felt a repulsion for the man that stood on the porch with him. "Leave him alone. Weren't you leaving?" Rosalia said. "Very well. Good night to both of you. And remember that my offer still stands." Rosalia said nothing. Isdel walked away and toward the bar. The boy started to head back down the stairs when Rosalia spoke. "Charlie, we need to have a little talk about what you were doing earlier today."
May 02, 2006
The Lecture
The alarm clock buzzed loudly and David awoke with a fright. Oh crap! I'm supposed to meet with Jim this morning! What time is it? He looked at the now silent clock, its red numbers glowing 7:30. Crap! I only have 15 minutes to catch the bus! He sprang into action, running to the shower to get the water started. He threw off his pajamas and jumped in, frantically washing his hair, face, and body. Five minutes later he turned off the water and opened the shower curtain. Crap! My towel is the bedroom. He climbed out of the shower, opened the bathroom door and felt the chill of the air strike his wet body. He walked slowly toward his bedroom, both to minimize the impact of the cold air as he moved forward and to prevent dripping water on the carpet. He grabbed the towel and slowly dried off the bulk of the water before furiously drying his hair. He looked at the clock. 7:40. No time for breakfast. Just as furiously as he had taken a shower, he threw on some clothes. Over a white undershirt he pulled on a yellow and white striped shirt, a shirt that reminded his girlfriend of eggs over easy. He completed his outfit with jeans and tennis shoes. He packed his laptop into its carrying case and threw it around his neck, grabbing his keys on the way out the door. He hurried toward the bus stop, not quite jogging but not quite walking either. Crap! I forgot my lunch. Oh well, no time now. The previous night he had packed a lunch for the today. At the bus stop he could see people waiting at the stop before his. Good, I haven't missed it. He pulled out his cell phone to call his girlfriend, but felt something nudging his left leg. He looked down to see what it was. "Oh, I'm sorry boy. I almost forgot about you, didn't I? I'm sorry but we don't have time for breakfast today. Come here." He was talking to his pet Chihuahua. How he obtained the dog wasn't quite clear even to him, but he picked it up and put it in a special pouch he had added to his bag. "We have to make sure the bus driver can't see you." The dog looked at him contently, almost to say he completely understood. As the bus approached, he closed the pouch and raised his right arm. The bus lurched to a stop. Great. The driver who thinks she's a race car driver. He got on and before he could take his customary seat in the back corner, the driver sped off, forcing him to grab one of the poles and swing himself into his seat. My goodness, he thought. The remainder of the bus ride went pretty much as usual. At the next stop the bus almost filled up, and at the one after that it did fill so that people had to stand. Then, typical annoyances such as loud talkers and inconsiderate people forcing the bus to stop at places not officially designated a bus stop. Despite annoying occurrences, the world does keep going. Once on campus, he got off and walked briskly toward his building. He pulled out his phone to check the time. 8:10. Good, I won't be late. Once inside his building, he rushed down the long corridor that led to his office. On the way he ran into Jim. "Good morning." He said to Jim. "Good morning, David." Jim replied. "Don't forget about Terry's class today. The guest lecturer is someone we should all meet." Oh, that's right. I don't have a meeting with Jim this morning. There's a special lecturer in Terry's class. "No, I haven't forgotten. I'm going to head over there as soon as I put my stuff away." "Okay." His conversations with Jim often went like this. He felt tongue-tied, wanting to say something more lucid but always feeling he had made a fool of himself. Once at his office he met his lab mates. "Good morning." He said as he entered. Everyone replied likewise. "Hey, David, we're going over to the Union to get some coffee and breakfast before heading over to the lecture. Want to join us?" Thomas asked. "Absolutely. I didn't have time for breakfast this morning." "Okay, let's go." David put his laptop on his desk and picked up his book bag. The Chihuahua scampered quickly into the book bag. David was still surprised that nobody had discovered that he brought a dog with him to work everyday. But it was a remarkably well behaved dog. They went to the student union. The roof was permanent, but in the summer months the walls were opened to allow fresh air and sunlight to circulate through. There were several counters that offered different types of food, much like in a standard cafeteria. The coffee was self-serve, though. After collecting their coffee, bagels, and donuts, they filed into the single register line that was open. David had already eaten his donut. In his pocket he found two dimes and nickel. That should be enough for a donut. "I already ate my donut. How much is it?" David asked the cashier. "$2.56." She replied. "What?" He exclaimed. "Two dollars and fifty-six cents for a donut!" "Two are $5.12. So that means one is $2.56." "Wow." He said, pulling out his credit card. "Didn't think I'd need this to pay for a donut." "Minimum purchase to use a credit card is $5.00." "You've got to be kidding." "No, I'm afraid not, sir." "Okay, I'm already holding up the line. I'm going to come back here for lunch. Can I pay for my donut then?" "I'll ask my supervisor after I've helped these other people." "I have to get going to a lecture. I promise I'll be back at lunch. Here, let me give you my name." "You can go, but I can't guarantee that you won't get in trouble." "Okay." He moved out of the way. Once everyone had paid, they headed for the Math building, where the lecture was going to be held. It was also where Terry went for class every week. The outside of the Math building looked like any other academic building, but instead of a standard rectangular shape, a large portion of the first floor had been removed so that only the outside edges of two sides remained. These edges each held a couple of offices and elevator lobbies. One could walk through and under the building using the cut out. The red-brick exterior belied the appearance of the interior. On the second floor a very spacious lobby, much like in a five star hotel, greeted people that exited the elevators. A great quantity of stained maple paneling, tables, and countertops added to the aura of the lobby. It was impossible not to appreciate the pleasing sound that one's shoes made on the black and blue marble flooring. In the center stood an information desk with snooty greeters. They greeted everyone with suspicious stares and seldom offered any help. If someone did ask them for help, they often received cryptic responses that were impossible to decode. However, today one of the greeters had a knowing smirk on his face. When he saw the group exit the elevator, he called out "David Mirth?" David, along with the rest of the group, seemed taken aback. "Yes." "I have a message for you. Please come over here for a moment." "Okay." He turned to the rest of his group. "I guess I'll catch up with you guys in a minute. I hope it's anything bad." "Me too." Thomas said. "Catch you later." David walked over to the information desk. "What is the message?" "Did you attempt to buy a donut this morning?" "Yes, I'm going to pay for it at lunch." "Hmm. I see. Well, you're under investigation for shop-lifting." "Shop-lifting?" "Yes, you took a donut and didn't pay for it." "Oh, fantastic." "Okay, that's it." "That's it? You mean there's nothing I can do to right things?" "Hmm. No, nothing written here. Have a good day, sir." "Thanks, I think." David walked away from the information desk. Certainly they'll understand when I tell them the whole story. He checked his phone. It's 8:29. I better get going. A realization then struck David. Crap! I don't know where the class is! Terry was the only one of us that knew. What am I going to do? He looked at his phone. The lecture should be starting now. So, I'll be late. I'm pretty sure all the lectures are on the third floor. He took the stairs up to the third floor, but only found hotelesque corridors leading to many offices and small classrooms. He decided to keep going up floors until he found it. Certainly they wouldn't put a big-time lecture at the top of the building. After wandering around searching with no success, he found himself on the fifth floor. The time was now 8:45. Feeling panicked, he decided to stop and calm down for a second. I'm certainly late now. But I should still try to see part of it. Let me check the third floor again. It has to be there. Back on the third floor, he found a previously unexplored corridor. It led to a decidedly different part of the building. The walls changed from dark red maple to large grey rectangular stones. The floor was no longer marble but bare, rough concrete. The lighting, provided by torches, made it appear as if he were walking in a medieval castle. His dog poked its head out of his book bag. "Hey boy. I'm not sure where we are." The dog just looked around, seeming contented just to go along for the ride. "Come on, boy." David took a towel out of his book bag and formed a bed in which to carry the dog. The dog almost immediately fell asleep, wrapped in the towel that David held under his right arm. David continued down the corridor. Just ahead, he could make out the silhouette of a small group of people. I wonder if they can tell me where the lecture is? It's already 8:55. Might as well try. Approaching the group, he saw that they were all dressed in black robes. That's certainly unnerving. Oh well. They still might know. "Excuse me." He called, still walking toward them. They eyed him suspiciously. "Excuse me, could you tell me where the special lecture is? I'm already 30 minutes late." The eyes of one in the group lit up. "Awww. What a cute puppy!" The others then saw the dog, their eyes also lighting up. "Awww." One sighed. "Uh, thanks." David said. "Can I hold it?" One asked. David was always hesitant to let others handle his belongings, much less his dog. "Uh, I don't. . ." "Please, I won't bite." She asked again. The others giggled. "Alright." David said, reluctantly handing the dog over. "Awww." The woman holding the dog said, gleefully stroking its back. "So, do you know where the special lecture is today? I really need to get going since I'm half an hour late." The ladies looked at each other, smirking. "I think you need to take the stairwell at the end of this hall. Follow us." The group moved in unison, toward the darkest end of the hall. David felt he had no choice but to follow, especially since they still had his dog. The lighting became less reliable as they continued forward. Several of the torches were no longer lit. "Here it is." One said, pointing to an open space in the wall. David could make out the faint silhouette of a staircase inside the space. "Thank you very much" David said, reaching to take back his dog. Just as reluctantly as David had given the dog to them, they gave it back to him. "You're welcome, sir. Anytime you'd like to come back with your puppy, feel welcome." "I'll keep that in mind." David said, hurrying up the first flight of the staircase. The first few flights were not as creepy as the upper flights. It was a wooden staircase, spiraling upwards. The walls were the same stone as the corridor he had just left, but it was much darker. He felt that he was climbing through the inside of a stone tower. As if to signal where each floor began, thick wooden beams projected over the staircase, forcing David to duck under them to pass. While the wooden planks protested each step by creaking loudly, they seemed sturdy. On the upper flights, water dripped from the some of the wooden beams David had to duck under. Some of the steps were also missing, forcing David to unwillingly skip a step or two occasionally. The doors of the upper flights had the names of nuns and priests on them, the plaques framed in polished copper and the names carved into black wood and filled in with yellow paint. As he climbed he also saw what appeared to be crypts of deceased nuns and priests built into the stone wall, with the same name plaques but the copper had tarnished green. David finally reached what appeared to be the proper door. He didn't know why it seemed like the door to open, but it just felt right. He opened it and found himself in a circular room. Tall glass windows, fifteen feet in height, surrounded the room on all sides. Across the room stretched a large diameter nylon tube that David could just reach around with his arm if he tried. On the other side of the glass David could see people attending the lecture. The room on the other side of the glass had the same large window on the outside so that natural light filtered into the room that David found himself. Some in the room had their backs to David, but to his right others were sitting so they could see both the lecture and the inner room. In this section sat his coworkers, but they hadn't yet noticed him. David looked at his phone. 9:20. Well, at least I should try to get in there without anyone seeing me sneak in. He looked around, looking for a doorway or some way that might lead to the lecture room. It was then that the most surprising thing of the day happened to David. A great gush of water fell from above, drenching him. Then, the floor disappeared. He grabbed the nylon tube, hanging with a hand on either side. The tube oscillated up and down for several seconds, bringing David for the ride. His dog was able to scramble onto a ledge at the edge of the room. David looked up to see everyone in the room staring at him. So much for a silent entrance, I suppose, he thought, not really fearing the certain death he would suffer if his grip slipped. One of the windows to the room opened and the tube rotated toward it. David could now hear the lecturer speaking. It seemed that this entire setup had been a part of the speaker's act. David expected the speaker to say something profound or provocative after putting on such a show. "Thank you for attending my lecture. I certainly hope that I've been able to educate and entertain you this morning. I'll now open the floor to questions." Why the hell am I drenching wet and holding onto a nylon tube for dear life? Much to David's chagrin, nobody asked about him, though. In fact, all of the questions seemed to be very esoteric and directed more at learning where the speaker had spoken previously and where he would be going next. After the last question had been asked, the floor reappeared and David was able to climb into the lecture room. "What happened to you, man?" Thomas asked. "Is that what happens if you don't pay for a donut?" "I'm not sure. It's a long story and I just want to get dried off." "Is that your dog?" "Yes." "I didn't even know you had a dog." "Yeah, I have a dog. So, what can you tell me about the lecture."
April 27, 2006
A Mexican Sunrise: Chapter 3: The planning
"So how are we going to do this?" Isaac asked Charlie. Charlie loved this question. He had been formulating a plan in his head, and now had a chance to reveal it to somebody. But he wasn't going to just tell Isaac his plan. He wanted to see if he could get Isaac to reach the same conclusion that he had by leading him along. It was a method some believed Charlie used to make someone think they actually came up with the idea, but that wasn't Charlie's intent. He simply enjoyed seeing a person's face light up at the moment of new understanding. "Well, according to this article, these guys knocked the train off of its tracks." "I thought you said that's something we shouldn't do." "It is." "Then how are we going to do it?" "What would you do?" "Well, I suppose I would come up with a plan that didn't knock the train off of its tracks." "We've already established that criteria. Do you have any ideas of what else we could do?" Isaac sat thinking for a moment. "Well, I suppose we could make the train stop somehow. I've heard of other robberies committed by blocking the tracks and boarding the train once it stops." "Okay, that doesn't knock it off of its tracks. But, it does expose us as we try to board the train. There would be no doubt what we were up to or to our identities." "So, we need to get on the train without anybody noticing." "No, we need to get on the train without anybody suspecting us." "What, huh, um." Isaac was not used to making plans of deception, so his confusion and inability to understand Charlie was understandable. "Okay, let me get this straight. We need to stop the train and get on without anybody suspecting us." "I never said we have to stop the train, but you are right about the second part." "Not stop the train? How are we going to get on without raising suspicion if the train is barreling through the desert? Just jump onto it?" "I never said we had to get on a moving train." "What?! You just said we're not going to stop the train. Now which is it?" "How do other people get on the train?" "You mean other robbers? They stop the train or knock it off of its tracks." "Right, and immediately expose their identities as thieves. But there are other people who get on the train and nobody ever suspects them." "Who are you talking about?" "Let me put it this way. If you were to want to get from Deming to San Francisco by train, what would you do?" "I'd buy a ticket at the train station." "Exactly!" "Huh? You're thinking of getting on the train with tickets?" "Think about it. How else can you get on the train without raising suspicion? You buy a ticket and board legally as one of the passengers. You never have to stop the train. Just get on at boarding call." "Okay, I understand. So, we buy our tickets and get on the train. Then what, just start robbing people?" "No, absolutely not! We're not going to steal from the passengers, some of whom probably had to scratch for every penny just to afford a train ticket." "So we're just going to rob the safe?" "Yes, and also from a car containing gold or silver being shipped between banks." "I see. So, once we break into the safe and gold car, we can take all we can carry. Then what are we going to do? Throw our loot off the train and jump off, riding into the sunset?" "If you jumped off a moving train, I think that might be the last thing you ever do. There would be no riding off into the sunset." "So what do we do? How do we get our loot and our intact selves off the train?" "How do other people get off the train?" "You mean we're going to get off with everybody else, just like we got on?" "Yes." "Won't the other passengers and guards notice that we're getting off with stuff that doesn't belong to us?" "What do other passengers get off the train with? Or should I say, what do they claim once they get off the train?" "I suppose their luggage." "Exactly!" "So we're going to add the money and gold to our luggage and just get off the train with it?" "Do you see any problems with that plan?" "How are we going to fit money and gold into our luggage?" The patience that Charlie was displaying at attempting to get Isaac to understand his plan was amazing. "How would you suggest we do it?" "I guess we're going to have to remove our clothes and stuff from our suitcases and leave them on the train." "Why would we do that? Wouldn't it be easier to put empty suitcases onto the train?" "Yes, that would be easier." Isaac thought for a moment. "But, won't the baggage handlers become suspicious if they notice that our bags suddenly got heavier during the trip?" "I don't think the same baggage handlers will handle our baggage at either end of our trip. Plus, just to avoid suspicion at having a really light suitcase, we could put some lead blocks into them. Now those we can throw from the train." Isaac's face lit up. "Oh, that's brilliant. We can get on the train as paying customers, perform our deed, then get off the train as passengers arriving at our destination. The luggage handlers will never know that they're handing us gold and money from the safe." Charlie had a smile of joy on his face. "That's right. And if we're lucky, we could get upwards of fifty to a hundred thousand dollars worth of money and gold." "I can't even imagine how much money that is." "It's enough." Isaac sat thinking it over for a bit. $100,000. Definitely more than the reward money I might get. Plus it's a brilliant plan. But, what if something goes wrong? "Uh, Charlie?" "Yeah." "In the article, the robbers end up dead. There's no chance that could happen to us, is there?" "There's always that chance. But, as long as we don't pull out guns, I don't think they'll shoot at us." "I'm pretty sure they would if they caught us in the safe." "Probably." "And being dead makes it kind of difficult to enjoy the money." Charlie chuckled. "You do have a point there." "So, maybe we should take guns with us." "No. No guns. I don't want the blood of any innocent person on my hands. I'd rather get shot than shoot an innocent man." "I guess I would too. I just don't want to end up dead." "Nor do I. But it's a chance I'm willing to take to get back to my wife. And I think it's finally a chance for you to live the life you've wanted." "You're right." Isaac said absently. He had a lot on his mind. The whole thing sounded like an adventure and the sum of the pay off was mind boggling. But he was still worried that something could go wrong, that they might forget something. Aren't there guards on the train? There would surely be a guard on the car with the safe. And definitely on a car containing a Wells-Fargo shipment of gold or silver. "What about guards?" he asked Charlie. "Guards?" "Yeah, aren't there guards for the safe and gold?" "I think so." Charlie knew there usually were, and had not yet figured out how to get around them just yet. "How are we going to get past them?" "I'm still working on that part." "Oh. Okay. One more thing." "Yes." "How are we going to open the safe?" "I've trained myself in safe-cracking. I can do it pretty fast now, less than thirty seconds." Isaac didn't say anything else. The problem with the guards had numbed his initial excitement. How are we going to get past them?
April 20, 2006
Why do we have five fingers (including the thumb)?
Why do we have five fingers? Including our thumbs? Yes. Well, I suppose because all the four fingered and six fingered monkeys fell out of the trees. Why do we have patches of hair? You mean instead of a coat of fur, like a dog? Yes. Again, it must be because all the furry monkeys fell out of the trees. If the traits we have are because of monkeys that didn't fall out of trees, how come we don't have tails? Hmm. Must be because the monkeys with five fingers, patches of hair, and no tails fell out of the trees but survived the fall. So, we're descended from hairless, tailless monkeys? It would seem that way. Does that make God a monkey? No. But, I thought God made us in his image. How can we have evolved from monkeys and God not be a monkey. The two ideas are compatible. Just think of evolution as God's chisel. Well, that does make sense. Any more questions? Yes. Shouldn't the idea the God could have used evolution as a tool to create us be taught in schools? No. Why not? Because, that idea is a religious belief. Only theories and ideas that are based on quantifiable or measurable observations should be taught in a science classroom. Religious ideas are the responsibility of parents and churches. So, we shouldn't teach science ideas that have no basis on scientific observation. That's right. God created a beautiful and amazing universe, and gave us the intelligence to attempt to understand it. We can study God's handiwork, but we won't be able to find God using science. I think he did it that way on purpose. That makes sense. Okay, good night. I'll dream about four fingered monkeys falling out of trees. Okay. Good night.
Yearning. . .
April 13, 2006
A chain of events. . .
"What was that?" He thought to himself. He had been startled awake from a rather pleasant dream, and thus was immediately in a foul mood. Overhead, he could hear his neighbors arguing. "Not again." He groaned as he buried his head under his pillows. In the apartment above his, a couple was arguing, and both had likely already forgotten what caused the initial spat. He accused her of not caring about his hobbies, of not supporting him and of not giving him enough personal space (she had, after all, deleted some rather lascivious material from his computer not long ago, an act that had absolutely infuriated him beyond reason). She accused him of not caring about his feelings, of being self-centered about his hobbies and need for personal space. What about her needs? As the argument continued, a thought popped into her head. "Perhaps it's time to end this, just like I always do. I'll show him!" With that, she calmed down, yelled one last insult at him and stormed out of the room. She was going to need a little bit of time to make things seem realistic. About ten minutes later, she returned. He was still fuming and ignored her when she walked into the room. "I'm sorry." She said. He was shocked. "What?" "I'm sorry. I want to make things up to you. Here, take my ATM card and withdraw $50 that you can spend on your games and videos." "Are you serious?" He said, still shocked. "Yes. My ATM card is in my wallet with my PIN. Now go before I come back to my senses." "Okay. Thanks. I'm sorry too. I said some things I shouldn' have said. I won't buy any videos." "That's okay. Now go." He stood up and walked over to her, giving her a hug and a kiss. He couldn't believe what was happening. "I'll be back soon!" He cheerfully yelled back to her as he left. As he was walking to the ATM, some thoughts began to trouble him. "She probably just wants me out of the house so she can plot some type of revenge against me. What's the worst it could be, though? At least I'm getting $50 out of the deal. That will buy me the new game I've been wanting." With that thought, his brief fears subsided. He approached the ATM and noticed that there were more people than usual in the area. "No matter. Probably just a tournament or match at the university is letting out now." He took out her ATM card and put it into the machine. It asked for the PIN, and he pulled out the sticky-note that she had written it on. He entered it and the machine asked what he wanted to do. He selected withdrawal, entered the amount as $50, did not get a receipt, took the money and ATM card, and turned to leave. Almost before he could completely turn around, he felt a blow to his shoulder and suddenly found himself on the ground. In the next moment, his face was ground into the sidewalk, a knee in the back of his neck. His hands were being cuffed, and he couldn't fight back, even if he wanted to. "What's going on?" He was able to cough out. "You're under arrest. We got a report that somebody stole a lady's wallet. She told us where she was and that the perpetrator might try to take money out at an ATM since she had left a note in the wallet with her PIN on it." "Well, my girlfried gave me her wallet so I could get some money out. We had a fight and she wanted to make up to me, so she told me I could take some money out. . ." "You think we were born yesterday? How do you think this looks? You have an ATM card that's not yours, and you fit the description of the suspect. And you just took money out of an account that's not yours." "But I swear to you, my girlfriend. . ." "She said she broke up with you this morning, and in your anger you took her wallet." "This is unbelievable!" "Come, let's go!" All of the commotion had not gone unnoticed by the restaurant owner across the street. He had seen the plain clothes officers drive up and take postions around his restaurant. His fear had been that they were there for him. He was already making preparations in his kitchen to make things more on the up and up. For years now, he had offered brown rice as an option on his menu. However, he didn't really sell brown rice. What he did was to scrape the darkened rice from the bottom of the rice pots each day and give that to customers wanting it. Some had complained, but none had yet caught on. The police presence outside made him worry that his time was up. He could see the headlines now. "Restaurant owner jailed for selling browned rice, not brown rice." There were other more serious violations at his restaurant, like underpaid illegal aliens washing his silverware in week old dishwater, the refridgerator humming along at a balmy 58 degrees Fahrenheit, and the lack of hairnets on the cooks. But, he was worried about the rice. Seeing the police take away the man at the ATM had allowed him to relax. Although he had seen his life flash before his eyes, it wasn't enough to make him change his ways.
April 05, 2006
Lonely Chairs
The room was small, probably about twice the size of a typical dorm room. But this room was in an academic building, actually in the basement. It was used primarily for meetings. I was sitting here, waiting to see if any of my students would show up today. As I sat there, I let my mind wander. I noticed the chairs on the other side of the table. They were plushy and their bright colors had now faded. They had once been purple, orange, red, and blue. For some reason there were more purple chairs in here than any other. Mixed in among these chairs were some wooden chairs. Thus the room had a diversity of chair options. The upholstery of some of the plushy chairs was coming detached in places, making it look like a bubble was under the cloth. For some reason I felt a tinge of sadness upon observing this. I thought back to the person that ordered these chairs years ago. They must have been excited either at the chairs themselves or at the anticipated response that coworkers would have to the chairs. Who knows, perhaps a whole group of people was at one time excited about these chairs. But now, the chairs sit quietly in a seldom used room in the basement of an academic building. I know the chairs have no feelings, but I think the sadness I felt was for the person or people that at one time regularly used these chairs. Are they the kind of people that would feel some sadness that their old chair now sat in a basement? Or would they have no feelings at all? And think of all the stories these chairs could tell! Not just the events that unfolded in front of them, but the stories that were told by those sitting in them. I suppose there are other chairs that have suffered worse fates. At least these chairs are still in use, they still have some life. They are able to comfort the bottoms of those in academic meetings and of students trying to grasp new concepts. So, even though their colors have faded, their use has declined, and they have bubbles, they are still active. I hope that the same can be same for me when my hair has greyed, I have retired, and I have wrinkles.
March 15, 2006
A Mexican Sunrise: Chapter 2: The Proposal
The next morning Isaac arose first and finally got a good look at Charlie. Charlie, despite being over six feet tall, was not an overbearing presence. He was clean shaven and had a surprising light complexion for someone who made his living off the land. The clothes he wore seemed remarkably unweathered and fit as though tailored for him. Everyone Isaac knew, including himself, had to buy their clothes at the ready-to-wear store where a proper fit was rare. The newness and fitting of Charlie's clothes made Isaac conscious of his own clothing, all of which was at least one size too large: a pair of black boots, blue wool trousers probably previously worn by a soldier fighting the Apaches, a long sleeve white (or used to be white) dress shirt, a black vest, and a grey blazer. He had been overjoyed the day he found an old train engineeer's hat at the ready-to-wear store, and that hat along with a brown bandana he wore around his neck were his only accessories. Charlie was wearing a pair of black dress shoes, black dress pants and a black suit jacket over a clean white dress shirt. The only thing that was missing was from the outfit was a tie. He also had a black bowler hat. As Isaac was taking this in, Charlie stirred and finally opened his eyes. They were green, and in this landscape seemed almost unreal, like the leaves of a desert rose. "Good morning." Isaac was a little startled. He wondered if Charlie had noticed him staring. After a brief pause, Isaac caught himself and responded awkwardly. "Good morning." "Are you hungry?" Charlie surprised Isaac once more by having breakfast in his bag: eggs and bacon. He cooked the eggs and gave the bacon to Charlie to cook. Isaac could not help but wonder what motive Charlie had in sharing his food. Surely he's not just being friendly. People willing to share such precious commodities as food with you never do so out of the kindness of their hearts or, as Charlie seemed to claim, laziness. But, each meal Charlie shared with him was one less meal he had to worry about later. Much like the night before, they ate in silence, the only sounds the crackling fire and the oil still sizzling in the iron pans as they cooled. Isaac was accustomed to most people talking too much for his taste, but this was the first person he had met that actually talked too little for his taste. It just added to his suspicion. During their breakfast, Charlie pulled out a newspaper. Isaac noticed Charlie read the paper with intense interest. He wondered what could be so interesting about old news, since that paper had to be two or three weeks old if Charlie really had been out hunting as long as he claimed. Charlie began to speak. "You remember last night when I said I was considering a change of occupation." "Yes." Isaac slowly replied, almost as if asking a question. "Well, this here story is why." "What's it about?" Charlie was briefly confused, but then realized that Isaac couldn't read. Most people out here couldn't read, especially those that had to make a living by hunting. "It's about train robbers." Isaac now bore the look of confusion. What could he be thinking? Certainly he doesn't mean to become a train robber? Perhaps he means to chase train robbers, or to become a deputy or bounty hunter. I've heard there's actually pretty good money in bounty hunting, especially with so many outlaws running loose. Or maybe there's hidden loot in some mountain cave and he means to become a treasure seeker. "You look confused." Isaac snapped back from his thoughts. "Oh, well, I don't really follow what you're trying to get at. Do you want to chase train robbers?" "No." "So, you don't want to become a deputy or bounty hunter or anything like that?" "No." The corner of Charlie's mouth began to curl into a smirk. "You want to go hunting for the loot they hide away in the mountains?" "No." Charlie was now smiling from ear to ear. Isaac sat for a moment, furrowing his brow. Certainly he doesn't mean to become a train robber! Does he? His eyes widened at the thought and his mouth opened a bit. "You figured it out?" Charlie asked, smiling widely. "You want to become a train robber?" Isaac asked meekly. "Precisely!" "But why?" "Let me read you the story." "Alright." Isaac absent-mindedly answered. He was a little shocked by the suggestion that somebody as well to do as Charlie seemed to be would become a train robber. He forgot his insecurity at being unable to read and for the first time since he was a child did not protest when someone offered to read something to him. Charlie looked down at the paper, still smiling. It was the Albuquerque Morning Journal, dated March 11, 1884. He cleared his throat and put on a more serious expression before reading the headline:
Isaac sat quietly listening the whole time, reacting to nothing Charlie read. Once he realized that Charlie had finished reading, he asked "Why does that make you want to become a train robber? They all got what they deserved. Just like the story said, I don't regret that they are gone never to return." "But." Charlie paused for emphasis. "They almost got away. If George had not ratted out the others, they would still be free. Plus, Frank Taggart was innocent. What kind of world is it where an innocent man is killed and his named sullied in the paper without so much as a trial? It seems to me that if you can get away with it, you might as well try. Besides, we can view our train robbery as a sort of punishment for the people that unjustly killed Frank." "I don't know. Frank probably was associated with the robbers, so I doubt he was as innocent as you claim. And even if innocent people are killed for crimes they didn't commit, at least they died innocent and will reap their reward in the afterlife. . ." Charlie interrupted. "Hah! Afterlife! I tell you, God is dead to me. There is no afterlife. You have to enjoy what little time you have here. It shouldn't be spent toiling out here in the wilderness hoping to catch a morsel for dinner!" Isaac glared at Charlie. "God is dead? Well, I don't know what path has led you to such a conclusion, but I'd appreciate it if you don't ever say that to me again. I know God is alive and well. I see him and his handiwork everyday. Look at those mountains. Look at the sunrises, the sunsets. Look at the desert flowers. Look into the eyes of a beautiful lady when she smiles. That's all the proof I need." "Okay, I see your point." Charlie replied, trying to calm Isaac. "But I still think that if George hadn't ratted on them, they would still be free, enjoying a good life. They should have gone to Mexico afterwards." "So, you think just because you think you can get away with it, we should do it? I haven't had much schooling, but even to me that seems wrong. You're still stealing money from people that worked hard to get it." "No, we wouldn't be stealing from people that worked hard to get it. We would be stealing from people who earned huge profits off the backs of hard working people. Plus, they should have insurance, so they actually won't lose anything. If they're too cheap to buy insurance, that's their own fault." "But still, it's just wrong." "Let me ask you this, what do you have to lose? You want to get married? Well, with the money we get from the train, you'll finally be able to afford a nice house and be able to settle down. That's my motivation. I want to get back to my wife." Those words reverberated in Isaac's mind. I want to get back to my wife. It was likely the earnestness in Charlie's voice and the intensity with which he said it that made them resonate in Isaac's mind. So that's why he wants to do this. He's just a desperate mine just trying to get home. But, why can't he just go? Why does he need to rob a train? He must have some sort of debt he has to pay off. He sat in thought for a bit longer before he finally spoke again. "I've never done anything wrong in my life, unless you count gambling. But that doesn't hurt anybody but me. I don't want to shoot or be a part of shooting an innocent engineer or anybody else that might stand in our way." "Nor do I, Isaac. That's why we need to come up with another plan, something more covert. These guys threw the train off its tracks and still nearly got away. Imagine if we could pull off a heist with the train still on the tracks. We could be halfway to Mexico before they even knew anything had happened. We won't carry any weapons." "Well, that at least sounds reasonable, if robbing a train can ever sound reasonable." "Plus, if you want you can take some of the money and do some good with it, you will have done more good with it than the previous owners had planned. You could be a modern day Robin Hood." "Robin Hood?" "Take from the rich, give to the poor. Nevermind. Just think it over some more and let me know what you think." Isaac nodded at Charlie but said nothing more. Charlie got up and walked away from their camp, leaving his stuff behind. He wanted to give Isaac some space to think, and he also thought that leaving his things might aid in gaining Isaac's trust. Many thoughts were racing through Isaac's mind. He did want to get married and start a family, and the loot from a train robbery would certainly afford him the ability to do just that. Plus, he could do more good with the money than it was currently likely destined. Then a new thought. If he were to turn Charlie in for plotting a train robbery, there would certainly be a handsome reward. But, the pay off from the robbery would be far greater than reward money. Still, either way he would probably be set for life. But, if he did turn Isaac in, there was no guarantee of reward money. There wasn't even a guarantee of a pat on the back. But here was also no risk of jail time. Unless he ran into a crooked deputy that twisted the facts to make him an accomplice so that he could collect some reward money. He had heard of that happening before. A part of him also felt for Charlie. Charlie seemed more than anything just to want to get back to his wife. You can't fault a man for that. Charlie returned shortly before lunchtime that day. Isaac had only one thing to say to him. "Let's do it." |
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