General Fiction posted April 6, 2024

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Headin' fer the hills

A chapter in the book Right in the Eye

Right in the Eye, ch 9

by Wayne Fowler

In the last part Slim and Mary fall in love. Her ex-husband and Slim fight. Mary kills her ex. Slim is investigated as a possible murder-for-hire suspect.

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“Pack your bag, Slim. We’re going for a ride.” It was detective Albion.

I didn’t have a bag, and he knew it. Guess it was just his way. He walked faster’n I could. Had to kinda jog to keep up with him to his car, a personal car it looked like, since it was a green pick-up truck. He hadn’t said another word ‘til we were on the highway.

“Had a real nice visit from your girlfriend, Mrs. Worley. She’s a good one, Slim. Cool-headed, smart, and persuasive. More persuasive than you. Even if she did have a tale that was, well … sort of unbelievable.”

I guessed that Mary told him my story, convinced him.

“We were still talkin’ when I got a call from Denver. Seems you’re pretty important to some Colorado uppity-ups. They called the FBI in on it. There’s only one thing upsets me more’n gettin’ called away from my wife’s dinner table … and that’s for the Feds to take a case away from me. It’s happened twice, and you know what they say.”

I didn’t know what they said. But I think it was workin’ for me.

“I just happen to have a cousin across town that’s a veterinarian. And he has an x-ray machine in his clinic. Now. If you’re willing to let me have a peek inside, I might be convinced to lean in your direction. Not sayin’ I buy everything your Marian said, but it’s proved out so far. And like we’ve said before, all you’re guilty of in Colorado is driving without a license. And the Bronco is illegal to drive.”

+++

“Aren’t you somethin’,” the vet exclaimed toward Albion as he unlocked the door to let me and the detective in. “Missed you at the picnic.”

“Yeah, got a call-out halfway there.”

“That’s what Jean said.”

The vet introduced himself to me, shakin’ my hand.

“This won’t be like when I x-rayed your hand,” he said, lookin’ at Albion. “That was a lot like a dog’s leg. A man’s head will take a stronger burn.

“Oh, sorry Slim. I didn’t mean burn in that sense. Just a stronger, uh, beam. You won’t feel a thing.”

“’Preciate it, Al. Like I said on the phone, I just need a little help in the believing area with this guy.”

“A bullet in the eye, huh, Slim?”

“Right in the eye,” I answered.

After the exeray they plopped me in the waitin’ room. Prob’ly so Albion could tell my story. Payment for the exeray.

It was about twenty minutes before they came out. The vet locked the door behind us after lettin’ us to the parkin’ lot. Albion didn’t say anything until we got in his truck.

He looked at me hard before talkin’. “You have about a hundred years scar tissue growth around that bullet.”

He shook his head an’ stuck to his driving. It was several miles before he spoke again.

“Here’s the deal. Paperwork is gonna show we cut you loose after 24 hours because there was no paper on you, no warrants. Slim Goldman is not wanted in Colorado. Your Herschell secret is safe with me. I happen to know that there are no warrants for that name either, but the Feds don’t need to learn your real name. I want you and your Bronco out of state like right now. And drive so’s you don’t get stopped. You be well advised to go back to Missouri, or Arkansas, or wherever, and get a birth certificate. But that’s up to you. That’s the best way to lose the Goldman name that might get you hauled away. All I’m saying is that Cerrillos is not any place for you to be for a while. Get it? Southern Colorado is my beat. Get it? And I don’t especially care for what I don’t understand.

“See, I… Let’s just say I got a thumb on things around these parts.”

I got it. I was something he didn’t feel he could keep his thumb on. He let me off at an all-night truck stop and gave me his card, Donald Albion. Told me to have anyone call him if I thought it might help some minor entanglement. He called Mary and told her where to find me.

Driving back home, Mary let me out at a motel in Madrid, a little town south of Cerrillos. She’d either call, or come get me in the morning before my check-out time. She was bein’ careful considerin’ who might be at Cerrillos lookin’ for me.

Check-out time came an’ went. No call, no show. I bought a canteen, some beef jerky, and a package of crackers at what passed as a general store and took out to the west hills figurin’ to get around and across the Galisteo River, which was prob’ly dry, unseen. Come dark I could get to the Bronco, which was parked at her place. I left the key in it. Should still be there. If I could get it out without crashin’ into too much I might make it. Call Mary from somewhere.

Despite my still weak condition, I made it fine. Fell a few times. Got hung up on a wire fence that shouldn’ta been there. A piece of deadwood for a walkin’ stick helped a lot. It was plenty dark to hide, but was light enough to see to walk. Got a lot of stick cactus pricks, though. The other eye mighta helped.

I saw a dark sedan outside Mary’s house. The weather was cold, but I knew a vacant dog house around the corner that I could fit into. The next mornin’ I got ‘em at the Cousins to give Mary a call for me. Told ‘em I turned my ankle an’ needed her to come get me. They handed me the phone. Mary started talkin’ right away.

“No, tell him he can’t have a room today without paying first. He knows the deal. No, we don’t want a check. He could probably cash one at the Starlite Caberet tomorrow at noon when the owner gets there. They serve a decent lunch, anyway. Good luck.”

That was all I needed to know. Either the FBI, or Denver, or both were there lookin’ for me. At noon the next day, after another night in the doghouse, I was at the Starlite. Across the street an’ down just a little was an auto repair shop. That’s where Mary stopped an’ got out of her car to go into the shop for a minute. I’d spoken with Ray, the mechanic, before. You couldn’t say nothin’ to him in just a minute. Tellin’ him it wouldn’t start would take ten, at least. Mary knocked on the sedan window, it having stopped just behind her. Then she took off at a brisk walk back toward the motel and her home. I saw the sedan driver spin like a top, tryin’ to decide whether she’d brought the car out for me to escape in, or if she was going to meet me somewhere else, or what. He stayed with the car, letting her get out of sight around a corner.

That’s when I thanked the kind lady at the Starlite and ran myself out the back headin’ for my Bronco at Mary’s. Once there, it was quick work to get on the highway pointed north. Didn’t even look for Mary to wave. Next time I called her, she said, “Tell him we should have room for his group in a couple weeks. To try back then.” I sure wish we coulda spoke.

I don’t know how she did it, but there was a tote in the front seat with some clothes and some money. And a note that said she loved me. My eye leaked like a holey bucket.

Alamosa was just as bad as I’d remembered. First thing I saw was a public drunk. Then a cop car racin’ down the road with lights and sirens goin’. There was a military surplus store, so I bought a pup tent and sleepin’ bag. A grocery had what I needed to keep outta sight for a couple weeks. There’d be plenty hideouts on Medano Creek up Mount Herard outside a’ Alamosa.

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Slim Goldman (Herschell Diddleknopper): miner who Ben Persons rescued in 1886
Ben Persons: young man with a calling from God
LouAnne: Saloon girl that Slim loved/idolized.
Marian (Mary) Cerrillos motel owner, LouAnne's great granddaughter
Detective Albion: Colorado state investigator

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Headin' fer the hills

A chapter in the book Right in the Eye

Right in the Eye, ch 9

by Wayne Fowler

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