Cant Judge A Book By Its Cover
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“Why’d you go and buy them sodas,” Slim asked when we were in the truck. “Mr. Holland keeps our fridge stocked with about anything we want to drink.”
“Where does Mr. Holland buy the stuff he feeds us,” I asked.
“Well, he usually sends a truck of supplies out every couple of weeks,” Slim said. “If there’s anything special you want, you just let them know and they’ll bring it with the next load.”
“So another words, he buys this stuff from a place like Walmart or Sam’s Club,”
“I guess,” he said with a puzzled look.
“In the meantime, Angel and Bill are doing everything they can to keep from going under,” I said. “They’ve supported this community for years. But when a big chain store goes up, they lose their customers who are trying to save a few pennies. I know a twelve pack of sodas isn’t going to pay the electric bill, but it is a sale for them and I’m sure I’ll drink them eventually.” I pulled one of the sodas from the box and handed it to him and then took one for myself.
“I see your point,” Slim said. “Angel and Bill are nice people. I’d hate to see them go under.”
We rode for a few minutes in silence before Slim said, “We’ve got weekend chores. You know, feed’in and water’in the animals at the barn. We usually rotate weekends and this was to be my weekend off.”
“I think I could handle it if you had something planned,” I told him. “Just let me know how much grain to feed the horses.”
“No, it’s not a problem,” he said. “I have a lady friend I see occasionally. I’ll give her a call and she’ll understand.”
“What does Todd do with his time off,” I asked.
“He’ll go into San Isidro and find him a Mexican hooker for the weekend,” he said.
We made it back to the ranch just as Todd was pulling out for his weekend of fun.
“Ya’ll have fun this weekend,” he said through the truck window. He had actually washed his face and there was no tobacco juice running from the corners of his mouth. “I’ll be think’in ‘bout you when I’m laid up between some nice warm thighs.” He gave out that sickening laugh and drove off.
I helped Slim feed the animals and made sure everything had water, and then I put my new gear on my saddle. Slim said we would drive out to the windmill site tomorrow and drop the supplies. Monday we would ride the horses to the site and camp until we finished with the windmill.
I was anxious to try out my new gun so Slim set up some cans and we fired off a few rounds. I was very pleased with the accuracy and how it felt.
After supper I got out my cleaning kit and gave it a thorough cleaning. Since I had my stuff out, I went ahead and cleaned my Marlin 1894 Cowboy model and 1874 Sharps Buffalo Rifle. The Marlin was a rifle my dad had purchased with the idea that we would get into the Cowboy Competition shooting. He bought the Sharps after watching the Quigley Down Under movie. Both were very accurate. The Marlin was chambered for .45 Long Colt, just like the Colt I had bought today. The Sharps was chambered for .45-70 and could easily take something down out to six or seven hundred yards.
Slim showed me his guns, a .22 Long Rifle 1873 Great Western made by a company called EMF. It had an interchangeable cylinder where you could also shoot .22 magnums. His rifle was a Rossi .30- .30 lever action. Both had cosmetic wear but were in good condition.
After putting my cleaning supplies away, it was obvious that we were both tired from the day. We climbed into bed and were soon asleep.
The weekend was uneventful. After the morning feeding we drove the supplies out to the site where we would be working. It was only about a quarter mile from the Rio Grande so Slim took me over and showed me the river. It was not as impressive as I had imagined. The river seemed shallow and the water was muddy. He also showed me around the southern part of the ranch and some of the other windmill sites. Each had a large metal tank where cattle could come and drink. We also saw some mule deer and a few elk.
On Sunday, Slim took me to the northern part of the ranch. This was much more mountainous with high plateaus. While there were several streams from natural springs, I understood why it would be harder to install windmills in this area. The depth to the water table would be much deeper and you would have to drive through a lot of rock.
On our way back Slim stopped on a plateau that overlooked the barn. It was still about a mile away but you could see the valley to the barn and beyond as well as a road that led to the plateau. Behind the plateau was a cliff face. I thought this would be an ideal place to build a home.
Todd returned late Sunday night. He was drunk and stumbled into his house.
“I keep tell’in him he’s gonna kill someone driv’in like that,” Slim said.
At daylight Monday morning we were off to the windmill site. It was good to be on Blaze again and he seemed to enjoy getting away from the barn. We set up a makeshift pin for the horses and gave them some water and hay we’d brought out on Saturday.
Driving the pipe was hot and strenuous work. Even in this lower section of the ranch we would occasionally have to bust through layers of rock. We were down almost one hundred feet when we decided to stop for the day.
My muscles ached and I felt dirty. Because the air was so dry, sweat would dry quickly but it still left your skin feeling sticky.
“How often does Todd come out and help you drive a well,” I asked.
Slim gave one of his classic laughs. “Well, let’s see. I’ve been at this ranch pretty near five years. I ain’t never seen Todd drive a well.”
“That’s a shame,” I told him. “He could sure use the exercise.”
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