Chapter Seven
Well, things didn't actually happen quite so fast as either
of them expected. Jimbo got an unexpected call in the middle of that night from
his brother Jacob, who claimed that someone had broken into the ranch and
raided all the horses. When asked what happened next, Jacob had said, "I
shot the bastard!"
Jimbo looked over at Samuel, who had fallen asleep on his
sofa. Samuel rubbed his eyes. He had heard everything, but wasn't clear enough
yet to make sense of it. "Is he in trouble?"
"In jail." Jimbo answered.
"Oh."Samuel answered.
"I have to fly there immediately to get him out."
"What about the rest of your family?"
"In jail."
"Why?"
Jimbo blushed a deep red. "They all shot the
bastard."
Samuel laughed, then he realized what that meant and grew
sober. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh, but it's so damned absurd and
utterly ridiculous..."
"I know." Jimbo said. "I should have known
better than to leave my machine guns unlocked."
"They shot the raider with machine guns?"
Jimbo sighed. "Emotions can do strange things. My
family comes from a long line of horse breeders and there's always been someone
trying to take away what they rightly brought up. Guess the tradition wasn't
lost on this generation either."
"How so?"
"Every generation has been in jail for shooting
rustlers."
"It isn't against the law to shoot someone for breaking
into your property." Samuel insisted.
"No. But is against the law to shoot their horses
too."
Samuel groaned. "They machine gunned the Raider's horse
too?"
"Yup."
Samuel laughed again. "You Texans!"
"Hey! I'm not the one who did it, besides if I had no
one would have found out about it."
Samuel considered that sobering thought.
Jimbo waved his hands. "Whoa, pardner, I have never
done that though. Not in this life."
"Okay!" Samuel said, sitting up and putting his
feet into his shoes. He stretched, then climbed to his feet. "I'm going
with you then."
"No way."
"Way...pardner!" Samuel insisted. "Someone's
gotta protect all those airline hostesses from the love mangler."
Jimbo laughed at the stupid words. "Lover
mangler." Then he stopped. "You don't really think I mangle the women
I love, do you?"
"Jimbo, how many of those heinies did you do?"
Jimbo gestured to the kitchenette where four empty six packs
were on their sides with empty bottles all about them.
"Case closed."
They almost ran out the door. The earliest flight left in
thirty minutes. They were only twenty minutes away, but if they weren't fast,
they wouldn't be able to run up the double flight of stairs in time to catch
their flight, which Jimbo reserved by phone in the Taxi they took.
They both tipped the Driver, who gave them surprised looks,
then ran for the escalators as they dashed into the terminal. They hit the
stairs running and didn't stop, even with others ahead of them, somehow
managing to get around them without tumbling them down or hurting anyone.
They finally had to slow down on the main floor, because
Home Security Guards were everywhere. There had been a recent scare from some
kind of political terrorist in the Middle East. There were always one or
another going on. Had never stopped. Samuel knew why, but he didn't talk about
it. No one really wanted to know, so he kept it to himself.
They reached the Southwest Lines ticket taker at the door as
the last passenger was boarding. She was a knockout. Even Samuel, who was
usually quite sedate when it came to lookers, had to admit she was stunning.
Jimbo, of course, immediately tried to get her phone number.
She stonewalled him and he shrugged it off to win one lose one and stomped
after Samuel, trying to hide his frustration with failing in front of his best
friend.
They were greeted by an even more stunning hostess at the
jet cabin door and Jimbo lit up like a Christmas Tree. "Christmas really
does come twice a year in Vegas." He said to the Hostess, who had no idea
what he was talking about as she took his ticket and motioned towards the back.
Samuel nodded to her, then looked back. Something about
those eyes. What was it. He shook it off and carried on after Jimbo, who helped
an old lady stack her baggage in the rack overhead and beneath her chair,
before sliding into his own seat on the opposite side of the asile. Samuel slid
past him next to the window. They were right over the wing section.
The old lady looked over at Jimbo and smiled. "You
going to Texas, young man?"
"I am." He answered politely.
She gave him a card which she hastily scribbled a number on
and offered to him. Politely, he took it and grinned at her. She winked, then
slid a pair of blinders over her eyes and ear muffs over her ears and went to
sleep.
Samuel elbowed Jimbo. "Christmas happens three times in
Vegas."
"I hate you." Jimbo replied.
The flight was a bumpy one on take off. It always is over
the Nevada range of mountains. The air currents play hell with the jets,
shaking them like a milkshake for a good five minutes before settling down.
It didn't bother Jimbo any, but it always brought back
memories to Samuel, because he had been involved in a plane crash once in
Arizona near Sedona. It had been a special flight. A tourist flight and not a
passenger jet like this one, but flying is flying and it took him a couple of
years to get over his fears of flying after that. Even to this day he got a bit
anxious if the plane suddenly jerked or veered, but when he shut his eyes he
could always see the smiling face of a beautiful woman glowing with white light
about her telling him "Everything is going to be fine, Sammie."
It was his mother. He was the only one who saw her. She was
his Whisperer. Everyone had one or more. They were people who had gone on into
the Light and had chosen to help from the other side by being Jiminy Crickets
to the humans still caught up in nonsense of Earth living.
