Chapter 5
The only sound you could hear was the rustle of the cattle and the crickets chirping in the sparce trees that surrounded the place. The twinkling of the stars over head was the only light that the two boys had as they crept towards the outlining fence. They had made it this far, once over the fence they were scotch free and out of there. They could taste the freedom, it was bittersweet and they longed for it. Working on this ranch felt like a jail, hell they were trying to escape weren't they?!
Trick reached the fence first, and with ease pulled himself over and crawled to a tree to wait for Jack. When Jack didn't pop over the fence a few seconds later Trick began to worry. He listened, nothing. Jack had been right behind him, what was taking him so long? Trick eased over to the fence and peeped through. What he saw made him run, faster than he's ever ran before. Jack had been caught and Mighty Joe was looking for Trick. Trick couldn't go back, he had to get out of there, and he knew Jack would get out, would try again. He could hear the dogs after him, but he kept running. Soon the dogs barking subsided, he was getting away! He didn't slow down until everything was silent, and the ranch was no longer visible on the horizon.
****
Jack had been so close to escaping. So close. When the rough hand closed over his mouth and he was pulled back, he wanted more than anything to be Trick. 'Run Trick, run!' went over and over through his mind, and run Trick did. As the dogs tore after him Jack kept hoping he would break free and get to El Paso, or wherever. And he also wished beyond wish that he could get out again.
What went on over the course of the next few days was pure hell. Anyone caught escaping was given something just short of an execution. And in Jack's book, execution would have been better than this torture. He had to carry the load of ten people and he was denied food. At night he was chained to a post like a dog, with no blankets, only his meager clothes. He shivered throughout the night only to be awoken before dawn by Mighty Joe's dog biting him. He worked long hours under the blazing sun, his muscles ached and his stomach growling. This lasted for a full week before Jack couldn't take it anymore.
The days were all blurry to Jack now, and at about midday all he could think of was a plate of gruel and a nice sleep. That would never happen with Mighty Joe around. He watched over him like a hawk, pacing the perimeter watching Jack carry on with his work. Jack of course did his work, but he would break free, he would conquer over this devil who was proving to be worse than Pulitzer and Snyder combined. This day was exceptionally hot, and the water barrel was being passed around. To everyone but Jack that is. His throat was dry as bone and his voice was just a scratchy record. He longed for the water, needed the water. It was too hot not to drink water. But it passed right by him, Mighty Joe made sure of that. Jack looked after it longingly, and Mighty Joe just laughed, he loved to see his kids suffer. No one escaped under him, yet he had lost one. But he wasn't going to lose this one.
Jack continued doing his chores, pulling one load after another, then the heat and dehydration caught up with him. His knees went week and the world blacked out around him and his body, like the sack of feed he was carrying, made a dead plop in the sand.
****
Trick had found himself on a train to El Paso, the one place Jack had told him about. The train stopped at the edge of this small, dusty Texas town. He walked into town by way of a set of wagon ruts that weaved its way down. He wondered who Shasta was. Jack had mentioned her a couple times, and he needed to find her, maybe she could help him out. He stopped into a trade store and asked the clerk if he knew Shasta. Yea, of course he did and he told him to go to the bar, she was working there.
Trick immediately thought of the prostitutes that hung out in those bars and hoped to God that Jack didn't mean Shasta was a prostitute. That would get him no where unless he wanted a nice fuck. And that he did, but that would get him and Jack no where really fast. He stepped into the bar and was greeted with the same blank faces he was used to. They looked very much like his own, since he had been out west for the past 5 years under this broiler of a sun. He looked at the few prostitutes littering the floor and then saw the bartender who was a site for very sore eyes. He took her all in, her red hair under the dusty cowboy hat, her thin figure in genuine cowboy clothing, and a sweet smile. And hoped to heaven that this was Shasta. He walked over to the bar and sat down.
"You wouldn't know who Shasta is would ya now?"
"Eh, I happen to. Who's askin?"
"Me name's Trick, a friend of mine 'appened ta meet Shasta…"
"Aye, that would be me, Shasta's my name, bartendin's my game and I hope you don't plan on getting away cold without a drink." She gave him a look and he must have been smiling from ear to ear. She was the cutest thing he ever did see. "Now what do you want?"
"Well, see, uh, Jack, the guy who met ya, me an' him used ta work at dis ranch and it was hell. And we'se tried to escape but he got caught and he's stuck dere. He kept talkin' about El Paso and Shasta-you- and so I came ta see ya."
"Ah, another Yank. They seem to be comin' in here a bit lately. Right Lester?" An old man seated behind Trick grunted a reply and Shasta just grinned. "Well now, sounds like you got yerself a problem. What is the name of that ranch?"
"I dunno, a guy named Mighty Joe runs da place."
"Mighty Joe! HA! He's a gonner…" Shasta slammed a pint down in front of him. "Drink this Yank." He took a gulp and almost spit it back out.
"This is horrible!"
"Yes it is! But at least ya didn't spit it back out like yer friend Jack. Drink up, its Texas brew and you'll grow to like it. So what ya want me to do about Jack? Go up to Mighty Joe who hates my guts and tell him 'Ya I'd like that guy I met in my bar back please so he can go work on my brother's ranch.' Yea that would go over really well bud."
Trick didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. He'd hoped Shasta would have some idea, but at least she wasn't some prostitute. "Why does he hate your guts?"
"Ha, funny you should ask. I kinda kidnapped some of those slaves of his that he treasures and—that's what Jack is, a slave ya know—well he's kinda mad at me." There was a glint in his eye and she laughed. Then she got to thinking, or so it seemed to Trick. After a few silent and awkward minutes, she put her hand down on the bar so loud Trick's glass jumped. "I got it! One of Mighty Joe's main men has been in love with me for a while," Trick could see why, "and I'm sure I can arrange a meetin' and maybe I can convince him to help Jack get out." Shasta grinned evilly and looked over at Trick. "This could be fun!"
Trick smiled. He knew it would work eventually. And leave it all up to the female mind to think of ways to get out of trouble. Sure the male mind worked wonders too but if Trick were to walk into Mighty Joe's ranch today he'd be thrown back into slavery as Shasta had called it.
"We'll leave tomorrow morning at dawn." Shasta said refilling his pint and heading down the bar to help the other customers. Trick smiled, he was helping his little Francis once again.