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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."
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. . .
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."
March 07, 2006
Dirty Laundry (to the tune of "My Favorite Things", if you like)
Searching in closet, searching here, searching there, Finding little that is clean that I might wear, A stenchy pile in the corner does lay, These are a few things found on laundry day. Mismatching socks and black shorts for underwear, Hoping to avoid any curious stares, Worries of what other people may say, These are a few things found on laundry day. Empty hampers, Ordered drawers, When laundy day's done, I simply remember my dirty clothes fears, And then I don't feel so stunned.
February 28, 2006
A Mexican Sunrise: Chapter 1: A Meeting
As he stared into the campfire, his mind wandered. How many others have sat at this spot? How many others have sat here, looking up at the sky, losing count of the stars? How many stories have been told here? Who was the first to sit at this spot? Who will be the last? He was certain that in the past, others had built campfires here. He had no evidence to justify his thoughts, just a vague feeling. But it was a feeling that gave him a sense of camaraderie, something he didn't have in reality. These were also the sort of thoughts he kept to himself and anyone who knew him would be surprised to find a man with such a rough exterior and few words capable of these types of sentimental thoughts. He looked up from the fire and out over the mountains on the western horizon. It was a clear night with not a wisp of cloud in the sky. The new moon, appearing to be covered by a black veil, was beginning to settle behind the mountains. He scanned the landscape unconsciously stroking his reddish-blonde beard, a full beard covering sun-worn skin. Although he was only thirty-three, he had deep lines firmly entrenched across the leathery skin of his forehead. The darkness of his skin was sharply contrasted by the azure blue of his eyes. As he scanned the horizon, pondering where he stood in the long line of people that had seen and felt the things he was seeing and feeling, his concentration was broken by a second man who came into view. "Are you hungry?" the stranger asked. "What? Who are you? What business is it of yours?" he replied, attempting to discretely reach for his hunting rifle. He couldn't clearly see if the stranger had a weapon, and if so, if that weapon was pointed at him. "Well, I have some food that needs cooking, and you seem to have a fire going. I thought we might be able to work out some arrangement. And don't bother reaching for your gun. I'm not going to hurt you. Besides, if I wanted to, I would have done so already." He thought the whole circumstance strange, but he hadn't had a good warm meal for almost a month. The prospect of having a one now was very tempting. With a bit of caution, he decided to see what the stranger had to offer. "Oh, well. . . heh heh, I guess you're right. So, uh, what kind of food do you have?" "How about some elk meat?" "Why are you offering to share it? Can't you build your own fire?" He felt he had to question the motives of this stranger. "I could, but that means I have to find a good place to camp, find firewood, and work at getting a fire going. It's been a long day and I'm tired. So I was thinking why should I do all that when you already have good spot with a fire?" The stranger's answer wasn't quite satisfactory. He's going to share his food with me because he's lazy? But, it is true he could have already hurt me if he wanted to. Plus how can I turn down an offer of meat for dinner? With that, he decided to accept the stranger's offer and even make an offer himself. "I guess I see your point. Well, let's have dinner then. I have some beer I can share" The stranger pulled a slab of elk and a large knife from his pack and cut the meat into small cubes, placing them in a pan between them. They cook the meat on the end of wooden sticks held over the fire. For a good while, they quietly sit eating and drinking. Although he was normally a man of few words, the silence between himself and this stranger seemed deafening. He had to say something. After all, most people don't share their food with strangers they meet by chance at night. He decided to speak. "What's your name?" "Charlie." Again, there was silence. He thought the stranger might reciprocate and ask his name, but he seemed content not to know. Finding that unacceptable, he volunteered his name. "I'm Isaac." There was a short pause that seemed an eternity. "Howdy, Isaac." Isaac thought that that was at least a start. He still thought it strange that Charlie would be so friendly in offering his hunting spoils to a stranger but then be so untalkative afterwards. As he was trying to come to terms with this, Charlie spoke. "So, what brings you out on such a night?" "Oh, I've been hunting all day." "Really, hunting what?" "Just about anything I might find. Bison, elk, quail, squirrel. Haven't had much luck. Seems like you did, though." "Yeah, I've also been out hunting. I got this elk awhile back. I haven't had too much luck recently." "Really? If I hadn't had much luck, I don't think I'd be sharing it with strangers just because I was tired. You don't know when you might run out. Then where would you be?" "Hungry, I suppose. But, given that we're two hunters down on our luck, perhaps we should both consider a change of occupation. I've been thinking it over for a while now." "Is that so? I don't know. Hunting has been pretty good to me up to this point." "You may be right, but I'm tired of just barely eking out a living." "You want to be rich?" "No, I just don't want to have to worry about money." "I don't know if that's ever possible. If you don't have money, then you have to worry about how to get it. If you do have it, then you have to worry about other people that want to take it from you." Charlie chuckled. "You're definitely right about the second part." His voice trailing as though some memory was causing his mind to wander. Isaac saw this and decided to press the issue. "What? What do you mean?" "Oh, nothing. Where are you from?" Since it was obvious Charlie wasn't going to be forthcoming and that this enigmatic figure could not be read from his words, Isaac gave up trying to find out where Charlie's mind had just gone. "I'm originally from Tombstone, Arizona, but I moved to Deming when they were building the railroad. Once that was finished I was out of a job. But, I still live there. Every now and then I find work when somebody wants to build something, like a store or church. Mostly I spend my time hunting." After Isaac's answer, there was again a long silence between the men. Isaac had hoped that Charlie would tell a little about himself, but that didn't seem likely. Charlie finally broke the silence again. "Are you married?" "No, not yet. Not sure if that will ever happen. Kind of hard to convince a lady to marry you when you hardly have enough food to feed yourself and money to put clothes on your back." "Ha ha. I suppose that would be difficult. I was married once." Charlie seemed to go off in thought again. "I'm not sure where she his now. . ." his voice trailed. "What happened?" "It's a long story. Let's just say that I married a girl from a town in Mexico and I haven't seen nor heard from her in nearly eight years." "Why not?" "I haven't been home." "What? Why the hell haven't you gone home to see your wife in eight years?" "I said nearly eight years." "Okay, why the hell haven't you been home in nearly eight years?" "I haven't been able to." "Why not? Where is your home?" Charlie seemed to become excited. "I lived in a town far from here." Charlie hurriedly pulled out a notepad and a pencil, flipped through several pages of notes before finding a blank page, and began drawing a map. "We're about three miles south of Deming, right?" Isaac nodded. He was also puzzled at the excitement Charlie was displaying at explaining where his home was. "Okay, then that places us here." Charlie drew a circle on the pad to represent Deming, then an X to mark their current location. "If you walk south for almost a hundred miles, you'll find a road and signs pointing you to a town called Guadalupe Victoria." Charlie drew a dashed line down the page, then a circle at the end for Guadalupe Victoria. "At the south end of town is a sign that points toward Nogales. It's about eighty miles southwest of Guadalupe Victoria." Again Charlie drew a circle for Nogales and a dashed line connecting it to Guadalupe Victoria. "Before you get to Nogales, though, you will come to a village called Rancho El Palmar." Charlie marked an X on the map about three quarters of the way between Guadalupe Victoria and Nogales. "If you then go south about ten miles, you'll come to another village called Del Rio." Charlie drew the final circle on the map. "It's ironic that they call it Del Rio, as the closest trickle of water that can even be called a stream is near Rancho El Palmar." "That's strange. Any stories about why it's called that?" "There's quite a few. I just think somebody had a sick sense of humor." "Oh. I see." "I think I'm going to call it a night. I thank you for sharing your fire and beer with me." "No, I should thank you. I hadn't had any meat for almost a month." "Good night." "Good night." Before he fell asleep, Isaac noticed that Charlie sat staring at the map he had drawn for almost an hour before finally closing the notepad and going to sleep.
February 15, 2006
My spot
It was a spot I spent many hours in during my youth. It offered me a chance to ponder the beauty of the natural world and a place of comfort against my biggest fears. It was a place that at first provided me with excitement about star gazing, cloud watching, digging in the dirt, and all the other things that easily entertain us in our youth. As I grew older, these activities at this spot became less common, but the pleasant memories allowed me to forget my fears. 
--- Alvin Shubert Photograph by Judy Song |
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