Trailer Trash: chapther twenty five

in #writing7 years ago (edited)


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Letters from an empty trailer




the Valley of Decision



chapter twenty five

Red got three strange calls, all within an hour of each other. The most interesting one to him was news of Sanchez’s arrest. News travelled fast in Reds world. It had to, considering his cash layout for such matters. Red knew Sanchez, and he knew that if things got really hot for him, that he would sing like a parakeet. It’s just the nature of the business. Red told his team of lawyers to offer him big bucks to keep quiet, and that he would pay for his defense.

What Red didn’t know at the time was that his source in the police department had also been arrested, and Sanchez was already making deals with the detectives.

The second call was from his head ranch hand, telling him that his foreman, on his day off, thinks he spotted Angela and another man, in a bar in Tortilla Flats. Red’s ranch was near there and was only a front for his Arizona crime compound. ‘Angela should have known better than to stay in the open around there,’ thought Red. He also knew that she wasn’t a crook and didn’t think in those terms.

“You think it’s for real boss?” asked the head rancher.

“O ya. And I know the guy that’s with her!” exclaimed Red. “I’ll bet the two love birds went to check on their dollar bill on the walls of the superstition saloon.,” replied Red.

“O ya. I have mine there too!” piped the rancher excitedly.

“Give that man a good raise, for his loyalty,” continued Red. “I want to encourage that.”

The third call was the strangest of them all. It was from his CEO, Les Dickout from his oil company in Brazil. But the man wisely didn’t want to discuss the matter over the phone lines. His Les asked Red if he should fly out to meet him somewhere?

“No,” said Red. “I’ll fly there; make arrangements for me. I need a change of scenery anyway.”

Red called his in-house manager and cancelled his plans to fly into the ranch later that day. “I apologize for any trouble I may have caused,” said Red and hung up.

He redialed his head ranch hand and had him send Angela’s horse, and a randy mare for her gentlemen friend out to her trailer along with one of his best and discreet men, on horseback. Tell him to secure the animals in the shade of the cottonwoods near the trailer. If no one shows, in a few days, tell him to bring the horses back. He’s to stay there a few days and watch, and report to you whenever he has something worthwhile. Have my helicopter flown into the ranch as soon as possible. If that pilot is drunk again, fire him. I’ll fly it myself. I won’t be away from the ranch for more than a few days, to a week. I gotta fly to Brazil.


Axle found the final leg of the journey to the trailer hard, and admired Angela’s stamina. He could have stopped and slept right where he was. He began to worry about the baby. Angela felt the same. They should have stopped and camped because the last storm had bashed in the trailer door and it was full of desert again. That meant lots of deadly night creatures. And they would have had to sleep outside anyway.

They arrived late, but long before the ranch hand had arrived with the horses. He was still a longways off, but still a lot further than any other man would have been. Red hadn’t given the cowboy enough time, to execute his plan. When Axle and Angela sussed out the situation in the trailer, they slept under the stars. And were both asleep the moment they hit the blankets. The hired hand arrived two hours later. Since he was around for the moving of the trailer, he knew where to station himself, for the best possible view undetected.

Even with all the desert night noises and Coyotes howling, neither one had heard a thing all night, and the sun was already high and hot when she awoke first. The first thing Angela did was dig out the old woman’s supplies, from her saddlebags. Naked she walked up to the prayer stone, looked around, then left the meager supplies. Returning she saw Axles bedding was empty. Then saw him down at the watering hole naked with the mustangs. She noted that two wild burrows stood off watching warily. But as soon as they spotted the carrots they began to slowly move in. She was so happy to see that the same wild scruffy horses still came to the trailer, now with a little one in tow.

The poor old trailer needed work, even when the desert was removed. Angela, fearing disease from old mouse droppings, masked her face with her bandana, and began shoveling out the sand with a broken shovel from under the trailer. Axle popped his head in through a broken window, admiring her beautiful body. Then offered to make breakfast, if she’d stop and wait for him.

Axle had his first taste of road runner eggs, with prickly pear stakes, and roasted devils claw pods. “Its an acquired taste then?” were his second words that day. “But beggars can’t be choosers…?” Axle stopped talking and held his hat over his balls and nodded up the hill toward the prayer stone. Angela followed his eyes to see the old woman walking painfully away with her gifts. Angela grinned from ear to ear.

After a hard-sweaty morning they had the trailer empty of sand and desert junk. Their naked bodies were covered in sweaty dirt, but both had the wonderful feeling of accomplishment. Only then could they start cleaning house. Axle removed bits of broken glass from the window and cut out some plastic to cover the opening. After pulling out and straightening some rusty nails, he sealed the window.

Angela went to the spring, that was slowly drying up, drew water and began washing herself. The horses were off feeding in the willow scrub, swatting flies with their long scraggly tails, and shivering their skin. Other eyes were watching her bathe, while trying to get a phone signal.

“I’m going to share half our lard with her, I’ll be right back,” said Angela.

“Shouldn’t you put something on?” “Why? It’s so hot and there’s just you and an old woman?” When she arrived at the prayer stone, someone had written in charcoal, “you be’in watched.” Angela left the gift, and without drawing attention to herself, slowly walked back to the trailer, wishing she had listened to Axle, and put some clothes on. She felt her body being ravaged, on her long walk back.

When Red got the news, he ordered his hired-hand to take Angela the horses and tell her that he would give them sometime together before he comes to speak to her. Angela was just telling Axle about the message she had read on the prayer stone, when the young cowboy rode in with their horses. A shocked Angela, hiding behind Axle, quietly listened to Reds message, through the cowboy. She knew the tough young rancher and knew him to be a good man. They watched the young man drop a bag of her horse’s favorite apples as he rode off. A thoughtful gesture from the young man, not from Red.

Angela’s heart softened when she looked into the black eyes of her wonderful horse, Night. They both stood there rubbing each other faces, her arms around his neck, while Angela cooed into his mane. Axle saw first hand how manipulative Red really was. Angela turned to him, and said, as if coming out of a dream, “He’s not fooling me, if that’s what you’re thinking?”

Then turned, and knelt down onto her bedroll, gathering up her clothes. Axle put her comments down to stress and wearing only his floppy hat, led the horses down into the shade of the cottonwood spring. A sleepy screech owl opened an eye and looked down on them. Bored, he looked around and closed it again. Then went back to sleep.


Dan Ger

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