Author's note:This story features only one primary character from the series, Manolo Montoya, a mono Mano, if you will The other two primary characters can be found in chapter five of "The Illumination". There is a hint of a relationship therein, which is the basis for what transpires here.
In an episode of the series titled "A Sea of Enemies", Blue is held hostage by a deranged soldier and taken to a place John Cannon refers to as 'The Forbidden Ground"', which is the basis of the geological formation referred to in this story by the name 'The Palisades".
I hope to have all 10 chapters posted within the week. Comments and critiques welcomed
"Oh, Manolo Montoya, you have no one to blame for this mess except... Manolo Montoya."
Mano scooted as far back from the edge of the table-sized shelf of ground as he could. One hundred feet below him an arroyo, bone dry virtually all year long , was a churning brown serpent of mud, brush and water. Above him rested forty or fifty feet of sheer walled stone. To his immediate left stood a needle of rock. This single outcropping is what Mano's right foot slammed into as he fell from the top of the promontory only moments before. The impact arrested his fall and bounced him onto the shelf upon which he now laid. Had he not hit the rock he would've been a mere bit of flotsam in the roil below, joining the random carcasses and other debris which the flood was flushing out to the desert floor several miles below.
Mano grimaced as he tried to make himself a little more secure. The shelf tilted toward the bottom of the narrow canyon. To roll off this island was a distinct possibility, he realized. He pulled off his belt and wrapped it around the base of a stubborn little sage brush which had chosen this unlikely spot to make a stand. Winding the lead of his belt through the rearmost loop on his pants, he secured himself to the defiant little survivor. Any movement was hampered by throbbing pain from his right ankle. It felt broken but it was too late to remove his boot to check. It had swollen quickly, his boot feeling two sizes too small already. If his ankle truly was broken the boot would probably be as good a splint a anything else, Mano thought.
The rain was picking up a little . Mano appreciated the bit of an overhang above his head. It deflected the bulk of the rain, but he was still going to get soaked eventually. He had seen the darker clouds moving in before the fall. In fact, they had been gathering for several days. A front was moving through, one of those rare events which occured every other year or so, when the skies opened for several days and rain would just fall and fall. When these storms happened , the ponds and water holes would fill to the brim while the desert would bloom with flowers and plants one could hardly believe actually existed. For one or two glorious weeks after the deluge, the desert would be a canvas of colors and scents. Mano, though, had serious doubts that he would get to witness this rebirth. He leaned his head back and tried to piece together the seemingly innocuous decisions which had led him to this precarious little slanted piece of ground.
Victoria's birthday was two days away and things at the ranch were going well. Mano wanted to go to town and pick up a gift of some sort for her. After clearing things with John, Manolito left the Chaparral, telling everyone not to worry if he didn't return before dark. "A man with my skills and abilities might be needed in Tucson overnight." he laughed as he departed.
He hadn't traveled far when he remembered the general store in Tubac and the beautiful amber rosary featured in the front window. Victoria had been given one very similar to it, only in turquoise, when she received her Confirmation blessing. Mano knew she would appreciate having another, so he turned toward Tubac. It was a longer journey, but the day was young and the cool air of the incoming weather meant Mackadoo would be comfortable at a faster gate.
Man and horse arrived before the store closed and, to Mano's relief, the rosary was still for sale. After paying for the gift he went to the saloon for a few shots while the storekeeper gift wrapped the rosary. Things were slow, even by Tubac standards, so Mano grabbed some tortillas and smoked meat from the cafe'. Returning to the general store, he took the small, pretty package and placed it securely in the inside pouch of his jacket before heading back to the Chaparral. The incoming weather figured into his reasoning as well, a long ride in the rain holding little appeal. If he could make it to the Palisades by dark, he could spend the night in one of the small protected draws there. His return to the ranch the following day would be a relaxed affair.
The Palisades was a massive jumble of rock and steep, deep canyons north of Tubac, southwest of Tucson and southeast of the Chaparral. Four or five miles wide by as much as ten miles in length, it had long been regarded as a "no man's land" by everyone.. There was little there to attract the Apache, being too steep, remote and difficult to navigate. A few prospectors had tried for silver a time or two, but the lack of any viable ore deposits and constant harassment from the Apache drove them away. The outer reaches of the Palisades held numerous short, secluded draws and alcoves which provided convenient hiding places or campsites, depending on one's given circumstance. There were several different names for this place, but 'Palisades' was the one Mano most often heard.
The towering rocks were visible for miles and Mano rode directly toward them until he reached an opening at the base of the rocks. Soon he had his bedroll laid out and a nice small fire going. The coolness of the air felt good and the beef and tortillas tasted better than he would have thought. Mano fell asleep with a contented smile.
After a quick cup of coffee the next morning, the Mexican was well on his way home when he spotted a single cow by itself, grazing.
" Well little one., " Mano crooned to the yearling as he approached, "Where's your mamacita?"
At the sound of the man's voice, the animal took one look in his drection and then bolted towards the rocks. "So, that is how it will be, eh, pequeno becerro?" Mano chuckled as he trotted after the determined bovine.
The yearling appeared to be an orphan, probably a maverick creation. Normally Mano wouldn't concern himself with such an animal, but he was a good sized youngster and leading him back to the herd outside the Chaparral seemed like easy money.
The little guy was spirited, Mano had to admit, as he weaved himself further up and into the Palisades. The cow led the man and horse up a small ravine and climbed quickly on a trail which wandered back and forth along several flat topped ridges. The trail was no challenge for Mano and Mackadoo. They had covered more serious ground before. There came a point , though, that the man felt more comfortable going by foot. He tied the reins on the saddle horn and followed the orphan up a bit further. The little one finally ran into a dead end and turned around to face his pursuer.
Mano sized up the situation once he came upon the trapped yearling. If this was a maverick, as Mano assumed, he would've spent a full year out in the harsh land learning how to survive. His fight or flight instincts would be finely tuned, and, seeing there was no avenue for 'flight', the animal might charge Mano with violent intent. All ranch hands were aware of this possibility. For every fifty or so mavericks a cowhand found, there would always be one or two who went rogue. These animals developed a taste for the independent existence. They would be fully aware of the usefulness of their horns and the chance of a man or his horse being charged by one of these beasts was a very real danger. The meanest of them were always given a wide berth with a few earning well-deserved nicknames. Big John had always let the Apache know that these rogues were their's for the taking. Unfortunately for the Chaparral, the Indians preferred an animal they could gently drive to their camp.
The rain was beginning to fall and Mano wondered if this yearling was worth the trouble. Looking up, Mano thought he could climb around and behind the trapped cow and drive him out with a few well placed rocks. He had come this far, a little more time and he'd have the yearling heading the right direction. When that happened, Mano planned to run the yearling's tail off, all the way bck to the High Chaparral.
As Mano climbed around the yearling, he found himself gaining elevation quickly. Twice he had to walk around spires which were in his way, climbing higher with each detour. Above him, in the higher reaches of the Palisades, the rain was already coming down in buckets and Mano knew he needed to get off the steep rocks pronto. At length, he looked over a rock face and saw the wayward bovine seventy feet below, still standing in its rock stall. One well placed stone on the animal's butt got it moving back down the trail with urgency.
Pleased to have finally gotten the animal moving, Mano began the steep return to his horse. A roar off to his left caught his attention. Coming from a deep cleft slightly above him ,Mano knew what it was. A gullywasher was churning down the narrow canyon. He had to take a look.
The violence and intensity of these flash floods needs to be seen to be believed and Mano wanted to see it. One quick peek, he said, and he'd be on his way. The rain was beginning to come down heavier as Mano leaned over the edge to look. He had to move down the face of the ridge to get a better perspective, but after a few steps he felt uncomfortable. The rock face was steep and the leather soles of his boots weren't grabbing the rain slickened surface . He slipped briefly and turned to scurry back up to the top of the ridge. He leaned forward onto his hands when both feet flew out from under him. His gloves would have normally been sufficient to retard his slide but they were as wet and slick as his boots. Unable to halt the downward momentum, Mano slid backward , ever closer to the point of no return. Suddenly, Mano felt weightless.
He was falling.