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To my surprise, within twenty-four-hours, a dozen men arrived with a wagon to collect the bodies. With a proclamation. “The bounty on your head is now doubled and anyone associated with you will have a bounty placed on their head, DEAD or ALIVE. The Regional Governor, expects you to surrender within forty-eight hours or else the Governor’s militia will return to finish the extraction.”
Looking around now see all eyes now on me. I have no words. Best I can do is shrug and wonder what the ramifications of this threat may ultimately mean. Turning my attention to the rabble, something felt familiar. I’m not good at recognizing faces, especially in an unfamiliar context, but scanning this group, pause. Is that near the back, Brett, and Cord? Overgrown beards, hats lowered, coated in a layer of dust, not making eye contact.
The wagon loaded, heads out. Addison, standing nearby, “You recognize those hombres?”
“Should I?”
“Yeah.”
Hum, waving, yelling, add, “Please let the Regional Governor know we’ll set a table with snacks for her arrival.”
The lead flips me off.
“Let her know she should come alone, unarmed. Tomorrow, I will meet her here at the gate. If she does not drop by, I’ll be moving on, so there’s no reason for you, your companions, to return, to die. I will soon be elsewhere, but eventually we will meet.”
As if on cue, a flash of lightning followed by a crack of thunder echoes off the nearby mountain. The wagon pulls out. Meanwhile, two seem to lag behind. Looking closer now, I see it’s Brett and Cord. Brett dismounts, acts as if his horse pulled up lame. Waves and yells, “We’ll catch up.”
Approaching the gate, grinning, “Open the gate, we’re baaack.”
Hugs all around. Then, mixed feelings feel overwhelming. They’re back. But, with good news or… bad. Frank offers to stable their horses as we head to our table. The walk takes forever while my mind races.
At the table, Addison, with a joyful salutation, said, “First, welcome home! I mean, how did they not know you? Not…?”
“I think they did. They just thought they were playing us and besides, their goal was to find Jesse, seeking retribution,” Cord added.
Sitting at the table felt uncomfortable, perplexed, wanting to know, not wanting to know. They do not appear as two men with good news to share. Looking at each other, Cord begins, “Good news or bad?”
For a moment, I felt unsure. In the background, voices beginning a new day. Steps plodding along the walkway, folks headed to the kitchen or the fields. Each taking a quick look at us, some displaying anger, others fearful, none amicable. We represent unrest. A necessary immorality.
Looking down, elbows on the table, holding my head, breathing deep, sigh, “The good.”
“We found them, both nearby, alive, and, well.”
“The bad.”
“They have no desire to see you, or talk to you, have anything to do with you.”
My throat tightens, the air feels thick as I stare downward. This information begs the question I fear asking. I hear a chair move, looking up, see Diana has joined the group. I think about the sacrifice her father made, leaving her here entrusted to us to protect, to train. Not having seen him for months. I recall how fondly Addison speaks of her dad and his devotion to her education and ‘talents’ to survive in this decomposing world. And now my daughters, so close, wanting nothing to do with me.
Looking up, facing reality, “It’s time for the rest of the story,” Addison adds, “Or walk away.”
“The rest of the Story,” I mumble.
“You, your family, it was a setup from the start engineered by Max, the elder Eldridge son. You were scheduled to tutor that afternoon. Knowing this, Max sent his hooligans to town to, do what they did, except to your wife, that was unplanned, an unpleasant situation that got way out of hand. It seems that Mr. Eldridge owned the cafe and was planning to give it to your…to Stacy and Max was being cut out. This crew sent to threaten your family. To send a message. To walk away from Mr. Eldridge’s offer.”
He was going to do what? I was unaware of this arrangement. She never mentioned this. “I don’t understand. She was about to take over. Why, what…this makes no sense.”
“Apparently, it was to be a surprise? A birthday gift? Or a precursor to the announcement of… another child.”
My head spinning as I try to grasp this narrative. Choking back anger, the absurdity of such news. Surely a fabrication. The world around me now, gone silent. The only sound, the sound of my hands striking the table. Looking up… “child?”
“Mr. Eldridge, did he know about this plot?”
“No, at least, not at the time.”
“This crew, as you know, attacked your family, and as you know raped your wife, and kidnapped your daughters. Brought the girls back to the ranch. Hide them and... The next day, Mr. Eldridge found out and sent his son, your daughters, and this deviant crew to his ranch in Wyoming.”
“I spent two years searching, and he said nothing.”
“He eventually moved with his wife, younger son and daughter to northern Arizona to a place called Meadview to reestablish his domain. His ranch here was unproductive, no grassland or water. Meanwhile, Max ran a semi legit business, a cattle ranch with a cathouse on the side, where he provided young women for his clientele.”
“A whorehouse?” Addison surmised.
“Yes,” Brett nodded.
Cord continues, “Sandra became pregnant. They, the girls, then sent to Meadview. She gave birth to a daughter and soon after, both returned to the Barrio.”
“They’re here now?”
Ignoring the question, Cord states, “So, Max, not actually disowned. Still ‘family’ by blood, but more of a business partner. An associate, an inherited accessory.”
“He operates a sex slave operation,” Addison scoffs.
“Yes,” Brett said.
Cord continues, “The girls conditioned to believe you never tried to find them. That you may actually have been a part of this scheme. That you wanted the cafe.”
“How could they believe that?”
“They were young, trusting, with few options.”
“Susan now owns ninety percent of the cafe. Mr. Eldridge, the other ten percent.”
“How can she partner with him?”
“She now owns ninety percent of the cafe? He treated them well. At least compared to Max. And we all do what we can to carry on.”
“Simple,” Addison adds, “Mr. Eldridge kinda protected them, got them away from Max and the ranch, medical attention, returned them to a familiar setting and handed them a livelihood. It’s just ended with Sandra choosing a different path.”
“Sandra? A distinct path?”
“Sandra, hum, returned with her daughter and hooked-up with local criminal elements and excelled in exploiting others. Mrs. Eldridge, a talented businesswoman in her own rights, taught Sandra well the art of manipulation, of utilization. Sandra has risen in rank and now, somehow, deemed the Regional Governess. But you knew that.”
“Changed her last name, Rojo,” Brett added.
“One wants no contact, the other wants me dead? And both thinking I abandon them, betrayed them. And a granddaughter that will never know me other than stories built on lies.”
“This world has always and will always exist on the lies we tell others and ourselves,” Joshua added.
Sitting up, Frank interjects, “Something needs to done, man! This is wrong on so many levels.”
Dazed, I slouch, sighed and feel emotionally exhausted and physically beaten.
To know one in particular, “I.”
“You need to meet with her… Susan,” Diana said, completing my thought.
“Susan?”
“An emotionally intelligent man your are, not, no offense. There are two things you need to consider: the note you’re carrying about, and the fact she’s not trying to liquidate you… to neutralize you permanently,” Diana replies.
“Brett… Cord…, how? I need this. Please, find a time and place I can bump into Susan unexpectedly, alone, just her and me.”
“I’ll try. I’ll need a day to cleanup,” Cord volunteers.
“As will I,” Diana adds, looking at Cord.
How could they believe I would do such a deed? Sun rising in the sky feeling the sweat dripping down my neck. Time to seek shade. Time for lunch.
“Brett… Cord…, thanks for finding the girls and willingness to bring back good news, bad news, hope.”
“Hope,” Addison says, “can be a cruel joke.”
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