Chapter 4
What the boys were faced with was unlike anything they had ever been through before. It was hard, brutal physical labor under the strict command of a man called Mighty Joe. Mighty Joe was a big man, with broad shoulders and rippling muscles. His face was always contorted into a scowl, usually aimed at a new employee not used to his demands. His demands were that you do what he wanted when he wanted it done and he didn't care if you couldn't lift that piece of machinery, you just had to. And if you complained, you wouldn't see the sun for days. Which would have been fine for Jack. The scorching sun blistered his skin, sweat was his drink and he now had the startings of a scruffy beard. Trick didn't look any better. His skin was like paper, it didn't blister any more, for he was used to being out in the sun, yet the heat was getting to him.
"Man, I'd prefer Snyder over this anyday." Jack groaned picking up the sack of feed for the cattle. "This ain't no life of a cowboy."
"Sometimes it is…depends on where ya work. But I'se never been in anythin' this bad before." Trick shook his head. He was not happy with this work. It was like they were the cattle and Mighty Joe was the cowboy. The overbearing, evil Snyder of all cowboys.
*****
Everyday had basically been the same for the past month for them. They had not been allowed to quit and running away seemed out of the question. One morning Mighty Joe had to leave the ranch and the hands were able to take a rest. This was a rare moment, and a first for Jack and Trick.
"Jackie boy, I want out…and now. I can't take this place anymore. They're draining me of all my greatness." At this Trick just laughed, but he was serious. He needed out and so did Jack. Badly.
"I know what ya mean, I still think we need to make a run for it and go to El Paso and find Shasta…"
"Who the hell knows where we are anyway! We could be in Mexico for all we know, and I ain't good wid directions."
"We can ask…somewheres there has to be a town…they'll know where we are." Trick wanted out so desperately, and to where he did not care. Jack had his hopes too. He had wanted to come to Sante Fe right? And he made it; well, kind of.
Jack looked out over the scruffy landscape that was doomed to call home for now. Jack couldn't wait to get out of this place; the bunk beds were hard and uncomfortable, the nights unbearably cold with only a thin shit to keep him warm. His clothes weren't fitting him right, they hung loose from his frail body made thin from malnourishment. He hadn't had a good meal since he left New York, and that wasn't even saying very much. The wages were next to nothing but considering they never left the ranch, it was well saved up.
"Look Trick, I have nearly 50 dollars, we can make a go for it and find somewheres else to stay." Trick looked at Jack…the offer was tempting. Trick had about 50 dollars to his name as well, together they could buy a train ticket to wherever they wanted to go.
"Alright, we both have about 50 bucks, so lets get the hell outta heah." They continued to talk about their escape plan until it was time to get their grub. The time was set for late that night after everyone went to bed.