There Is A Generation WH BUZZARD Cast of Characters Timothy (“Tim”): an adventurous young mischief-maker Hector (“Hect”): orphaned school dropout and Tim’s best friend Tim’s mother: married but basically raising Tim as a single mom Tim’s father: an alcoholic who frequents posh “drying out” centers Phantom: a hallucination that haunts Tim Sheriff: a no-nonsense lawman with a desire to help troubled kids Mauler: sheriff’s dog, half chow, half Irish setter Old man in ‘48 Chevy: murder mystery buff and reader of detective magazines Eli: cowboy owner of The Pines Diner in Ruidoso, New Mexico Snowball: married to Eli and a waitress at The Pines Diner Zelda: girl who picks up Tim while hitchhiking Sophia: bandleader and poetess Lady and her son in Cadillac: rescues Tim off a New Mexico highway T.J.: father of Becca, scam artist and trucker who reluctantly gives Hect a ride Becca: T.J.’s beautiful but cunningly treacherous daughter Rummy: homeless ex-prize fi ghter Fast-One: work café owner known for her cruel practical jokes Jake: arsonist and alcoholic bully Blackie: a gigantic scorpion Copyright © 2014 WH Buzzard Half Ear: one of three mules that befriend Tim All rights reserved. Bernardo and Maria: a farming couple in the desert of Mexico ISBN: 1500385271 Victor: a friend of Bernardo’s ISBN 13: 9781500385279 Juweel (“Ju”): a man without a country from somewhere in Africa Library of Congress Control Number: 2014912531 CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform North Charleston, South Carolina iii Contents Chapter 1: War Games 1 Chapter 2: Flight 9 Chapter 3: The Phantom 15 Chapter 4: Mauler 30 Chapter 5: The ‘48 Chevy 39 Chapter 6: The Cowboy 44 Chapter 7: Abandoned 50 Chapter 8: Sophia’s Band 58 Chapter 9: Hect and the Con Artists 63 Chapter 10: The Poison Log Routine 70 Chapter 11: A Close Call 75 Chapter 12: The Call of Doom 83 Chapter 13: The Pines Diner 92 Chapter 14: Amateur Scammers 100 Chapter 15: An Unhelpful Rummy 107 Chapter 16: Fast-One’s Café 111 Chapter 17: Skid Row 119 Chapter 18: A Fast One on Fast-One 123 Chapter 19: The Wonder Drink 131 Chapter 20: The Room Clerks 140 Chapter 21: Together Again 146 Chapter 22: The Dog Track 153 Chapter 23: Arrest 161 Chapter 24: The Juarez Jail 166 Chapter 25: Ju 171 v WH Buzzard Chapter 26: Jailbreak 183 Chapter 27: Uninvited Guests 194 Chapter 28: A Land that Never Got Rain 203 Chapter 29: An Odd Coincidence 214 TO JOANIE, MY FIRST EDITOR, AND TO LESLIE, MY MENTOR vi There is a generation that curses its father, And does not bless its mother. Prv. 30:11 West Texas Early 1950’s 1 War Games “SNATCH UP THAT rifle, goldbricker.” I lifted my head out of my hands. “I’m half-dead, you know?” “Yeah, yeah, half-dead, I know, I know.” Hect lay atop the fender of the truck’s crushed headlight, positioned his rifl e on the hood, and fi red repeatedly. The shack he aimed at absorbed the shots to no greater effect than if they’d all missed, except for a tinkle of glass now and then when a bullet nicked a shard left in the window frame. Out of ammunition, he sat on the running board beside me. I could feel his disgust. “It’s a mighty sorry soldier what leaves a weapon in the dirt like that. It’d serve you right if they come yelling for blood out’a that bun- ker with guns blazing and your barrel’s clogged up.” “I don’t feel good, I told you.” “Humpteen jillion times, ‘s’all. That’s humpteen jillion and one.” He reloaded his rifl e. Damaged cars lay all around—some turned on one side, others upside down, still others demolished beyond recognition. Many had bullet holes that spider-webbed the glass of several windows. The West Texas sun hammered our heads like nails. Heat off the metal truck body felt hot as off a stovetop. Worse than that, gasoline 1 WH Buzzard There Is A Generation fumes hung in the air, making me dizzy. A fuel tank on the truck “How’d I wind up with such a sissy partner? That’s what I’d like to dripped gas, leaving a dark, crusted stain on the dirt. know. And don’t tell me them skunks ain’t in there again on account Hect squeegeed his brow with one fi nger and popped a line of of they are so. I don’t care what you say. Now, my plan is a frontal attack drops in the dirt. He sweat a lot anyway, and the droplets ran down his while you fl ank attack. We’ll duck best we can, you left, me right.” face as if beads on a string. His buzzed haircut and almost perfectly “If I move, I’ll throw up.” round face, along with his being chunky, made him a target for kids “You ain’t got no say in this, Private. Which one of us is the offi cer at school. They taunted him with names like “Full Moon” or “Charlie here? Me, not you. These are my uncle’s rifl es, and we’ll do as I say so.” Brown,” after the cartoon strip. He’d dropped out of the seventh grade He snorted. “Shoot, your momma won’t even let you own a cap pistol, after failing it the year before, and I wished he hadn’t, as his south-side so don’t tell me I ain’t in command. Now, we’ll rush the enemy head- accent needed improving badly. Because of it, I’d come under my own on. They won’t be expecting that.” share of teasing, especially from my country-club pals. Instead of Hect “Here goes!” I bent over and made a gagging noise. “Ugh, almost.” or his real name, Hector, they called him “Hick.” “I ought to shoot you for insubordination, is what. I’d be within “You hear me, Private? Snatch up that gun. What if them killers was my rights too. It’s legal for a commanding offi cer to kill a coward who to come squalling out of that hut? What’re you to do about it—chunk disobeys on the battlefi eld. If I didn’t need you to help fi ght these dirt clods?” scoundrels, I would too.” “I’m not in the mood.” Miserable, I dropped my head into my “Ack! For real, this time!” I bent over, my shoulders on my knees, hands again. “No one’s inside there anyway.” my head between my thighs, and burped. Nothing else. “Says you, no one’s in there. If you don’t think so, sashay out in the “My blamed luck,” Hect muttered. “Here I am in desperate straits, open and see if them murderers don’t fi ll that ain’t-in-the-mood nog- facing fanatic killers, and I got a pansy for a sidekick. Come on now, gin so full of pellets you’ll be a walking maraca. At least then, you’d be won’t you help?” His tone reduced to pleading. “Buck up and cover useful as a decoy. Now get that weapon out of the dirt, soldier.” me, at least. I’ll do the rest.” He stood up and leaned around the I picked up the end of the rifl e, but only because the gun didn’t fender and emptied his clip into the shanty. Pieces of glass shattered. belong to me, and I felt guilty treating his uncle’s rifl e like that. I “Wahoo! That’ll show them killers. If only I had me a fl amethrower,” brushed the barrel off. he said while peeking over the truck’s hood. “I’d set that place ablaze “We’re in a skirmish here, soldier. This ain’t no child’s play. Them with a fl amethrower and cook them rascals.” cutthroats would die happy as eating pie if they could kill us, so you A humming noise caught my attention and I forgot about being get serious.” sick. “You hear that?” I cupped one ear. “That buzzing—where’s it “I’m not well, I told you. You wouldn’t be either if you went through coming from?” With the barrel of the rifl e, I pushed aside a branch of what I did last night. It was the worst of my li—” a large mesquite bush. “Look at that!” “’Not well’? Is that what you said?” He shook his head as if he’d A wasp nest big as a dinner plate had so many yellow jackets cover- heard all he could stand and returned to loading his rifl e clip. “You ing it that the branch bent under its weight. “You ever see one that big? ain’t half thought ‘not well,’ if them maniacs in that bunker get their Watch this.” I picked up one of our beer bottle caps and tossed it at the blood-crusted hands on you. Now get up here and help out. I ain’t able swarm. The tiny tin disk glanced off a limb, ricocheted off another, and to fi nish them off alone.” nicked the brown, paper-like wad. Wasps broke away like a hunk fall- “Gunfi re hurts my headache.” ing off a cake, dissolving all to crumbs and buzzing furiously. They fl ew 2 3 WH Buzzard There Is A Generation every which way, zipping around, but then returned to their labors, away.