1

    Room 258 at Los Robles Hospital was quiet, save the dull grinding noise of the PCA pump at Colleen Caldwell’s bedside.  Morphine made its way through strong veins and dulled the pain from broken bones and bruised muscles.  The beautiful young Triple C Ranch owner’s body had seen better days, but was well on its way to recovery.

    Colleen’s roommate, August Riley drew shallow, lumbered breaths as she slept in a slightly reclined position with her hands folded across her aching belly.  A rogue frown appeared on the blonde overly-tanned woman’s face as the events from the night before appeared in a dreamy replay for an audience of one.

    “Please… not in the face this time,” Augie slurred out loud.

    The heavy wooden door swung open a few inches, and Joan Caldwell peered inside at the sleeping beauties of Room 258.  The sight of Colleen’s battered body made Joan’s heart ache once again.  She doubted that she would ever be comfortable with the sight of the strongest woman she ever knew in such a frail state.

    Joan swung the door open wide enough to step through and close it behind her.  She took extra care to hold the door handle so that the heavy latch wouldn’t make its usual loud thud when it was closed.  The plastic bags of supplies that hung from her left hand rustled lightly as she tiptoed quietly toward the recliner in the corner.

    “I don’t have any more money!” Augie said loudly.

    Joan turned in her tracks, startled by Augie’s sudden outburst.

    “What?” Colleen asked from the depths of her drug-induced, late-morning nap.

    “I said I don’t have any more money!” Augie yelled at the top of her lungs.

    “Oh my God!” said Joan as she dropped her bags on the floor and quickly covered her mouth with both hands.

    “Mom?” Colleen called, still confused.

    Before Joan could answer, Augie screamed loudly.   

    “Mom!” Colleen yelled.  “Get some help!”

    Joan remained frozen in her tracks, unable to move.  Colleen fumbled frantically for the nurse call bell as Augie continued to scream at the visions playing out their horrible actions inside her broken skull.

    The heavy wooden door flew open and Amy the nurse bolted into the room, followed closely by a man in blue scrubs who looked more like a bodybuilder than a nurse.  Yanette the CNA appeared in the doorway and two female nurses stood on their toes behind her as Amy and the muscular man rushed to Augie’s bedside.

    “Somebody help her!” Colleen yelled helplessly.

    The man in blue scrubs grabbed the end of the heavy privacy curtain and pulled it from its position between the beds.  The metal wheels in the tracks that held the curtain made a loud tinny squeal that nearly matched Augie’s screams, both in pitch and volume.

    Joan stood and stared blankly at the curtain, transfixed and unblinking as her hands slowly dropped to her sides.  Colleen could see the feet of the man in blue scrubs shuffle from side to side as Augie’s screams turned to loud gasps.  Odd, unidentifiable sounds filled the gaps between screams and gasps for air on the other side of the curtain.

    “Augie!” called Amy loudly.  “Augie!” Amy called again.  “She’s hyperventilating… David… call the Rapid Response Team.”

    “Got it!” replied a deep, businesslike voice, which Colleen assumed belonged to the man in blue scrubs because his feet disappeared from view shortly after.

    “No!” Augie exclaimed.

    “Augie?” Amy called loudly.  “Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

    Augie’s loud gasps turned to more controlled heavy breathing.

    “No… rapid…” said Augie hoarsely.

    “Augie?” Amy repeated.

    “Yeah,” said Augie with a hard swallow.  “What…”

    Augie gulped air and tried to compose herself as the feet of the man in blue scrubs reappeared at her bedside.

    “Just take slow, deep breaths and try to relax for a minute,” Amy instructed.

    “O-kay,” replied Augie between deep gulps of air.

    “You still want me to call R.R.T.?” asked the man that Amy referred to as “David.”

    “I don’t think we’ll need it… are you sure you’re okay, sweetheart?” asked Amy loudly.

    “I’m… out of… breath,” replied Augie.  “I’m not… hard of hearing.”

    David chuckled at Augie’s comment.  Colleen let out a breath that she didn’t realize she was holding.  Joan stood and stared blankly at the heavy privacy curtain as if she were in a trance.

    “Mom,” Colleen whispered, but got no response.

    “Why is the curtain like that?” Augie asked.

    “Why is the curtain pulled?” Amy asked for clarification.

    “Yeah,” replied Augie.

    “Mom,” said Colleen in a normal tone, but again got no response from Joan.

    “We thought you were in trouble,” Amy said to Augie.

    A long pause followed Amy’s statement.  Joan continued her stare into the thick privacy curtain, which made Colleen feel uneasy.

    “In trouble?” asked Augie, which finally broke the silence.

    “Mom!” Colleen shouted.

    “What!?” Joan mirrored in a shout as she blinked for the first time and came out of her trance.

    “What the hell is the matter with you?” Colleen scolded.

    “Nothing,” replied Joan as she composed herself and bent over to pick up the Wal-Mart bags she dropped earlier.  “She was… screaming.”

    “Shhh!” Colleen sputtered.

    “Don’t shush me!” Joan fired as she stood up and glared at Colleen.

    At that very moment, Colleen didn’t recognize the person that stood at the foot of her bed and glared back at her.  The face was that of Joan Caldwell, but the eyes were completely unfamiliar and cold.  A chill made its way up Colleen’s spine and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

    “Did you take care of that… other thing that we talked about on the phone?” Colleen asked Joan.

    Before Joan could answer, David pulled the privacy curtain back toward the wall between the two beds.

    “Is there anything else I can get you, young lady?” David asked with his back turned to Augie as he fastened the curtain to the wall with a fabric strap.

    Amy helped Augie lean slightly forward, adjusted her pillow squarely behind her neck and head, and then went to the sink to wash her hands.

    Augie turned her head and studied the back of David’s body from head to toe.  The fabric of the blue scrubs strained against huge biceps as David worked with the privacy curtain.  His upper body was shaped like a large, blue upside-down triangle.  Augie was sure that this man’s shoulders were going to split the blue fabric down the middle like an enraged Incredible Hulk, but the soft blue fabric held its ground.

    David’s scrub top gathered at the bottom and was tucked inside the waist of loose-fitting, matching bottoms.  Augie just knew this man had a chiseled ass that you could crack a walnut with.  Augie stared at David’s behind in a trance of her own, and then caught the sight of Colleen out of the corner of her eye.  Colleen had leaned forward and was watching the overly-tanned blonde turn a few shades of red.

    “Can you fix my pillow, please?” asked Augie as she tore her eyes from David’s walnut-cracker, looked squarely at Colleen and stuck out her tongue like a three-year old.

    “Sure can,” replied David as he finished his work with the stubborn curtain and turned toward Augie.  “How do you want it?”

2

    Carlos Guzman wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his gloved hand and shook his head in disgust.  The chestnut mare beneath him shifted her weight and kicked up a lazy wisp of dust from the dry valley floor.  The hot August sun held her mid-day position overhead and kept watch over a pale brown chickadee that flitted from shrub to shrub nearby.  A short “peep” of disapproval followed each move to a new perch from which to survey the monstrous horse and rider before him.

    The Triple C Ranch was home to countless critters, drifters and reptiles, but none was more hated by Carlos than the one sunning himself in the middle of a clear patch of hardpan, forty yards off the trail to his left.

    Carlos bit the leather tip of his right middle finger, removed his hand from the well-worn glove, and then leaned forward in the saddle and patted “Ka” twice on her shiny deep chestnut neck.  The mare’s ribs expanded as she took in a deep breath followed by a loud sputter as the chickadee continued his series of disapproving “peeps” amongst the prickly pear cactus a few feet away.

    As he grabbed the leather glove from his teeth and stuffed it in his back pocket, Carlos held his stare at the vermin that made Swiss cheese out of prime Simi Valley ranch land.  Ka let out a low, short whinny as Carlos leaned forward once again, gripped the deep brown Western saddle’s horn and swung his right leg over the powerful mare’s rump for the hundredth time that day.

    “Easy, Castaña” Carlos said as he gripped the mare’s bridle with his left hand and ducked under her neck.

    Carlos stood at Ka’s withers and patted her on the neck once again.  Ka’s ears twitched back and forth as Carlos gripped the heavy stock of the 1892 Winchester rifle that was held firmly in place by the thick leather scabbard under the right stirrup.  The rifle slid easily from its wool-lined sheath and its shiny edges gleamed brightly in the hot August sun.

    Carlos moved the always-loaded rifle to the crook of his right elbow and rolled his shoulders as he walked a few feet in front of the mare’s nose. He stood silently in the middle of the worn dirt trail as Ka lowered her head and pawed at the dirt with her right foot.  Small clumps of earth rolled backward from her shiny metal shoes as she dug at the packed trail beneath her hooves.

    “Sssss!” hissed Carlos as he held out his left hand and pointed two fingers at the well-trained mare without looking in her direction.

    Ka lifted her head and shuffled backward a few steps without turning.  Her hooves scooped shallow tracks in the dirt along the way until the Triple C Ranch Foreman dropped his hand back to his side.  Fine trail dust floated into the air and dispersed slowly as Ka stood motionless in the hot sun.

    Carlos spied the California ground squirrel that continued sunning himself on the bare patch of earth forty feet away.  His thin, shiny whiskers twitched in the hot sun as he sniffed at the dry air indifferently.  Carlos thought to himself for a moment.  He thought about how ironic it was that life on the Triple C, or any other ranch for that matter, can turn in an instant.  One minute you could be sunning yourself in the warmth of the California sun, just like the squirrel, and the next minute you could find yourself in a hospital with broken bones, or even dead.

    Carlos looked down at the 1892 Winchester rifle that also seemed to be sunning itself in the comfort of his right elbow.

    “Time to go to work, old friend,” Carlos said softly in his native tongue.

    Carlos hoisted the Winchester into position against his right shoulder and searched the patch of ground for his target once again.  The squirrel had moved since Carlos took his eyes off him only a few seconds before.  He stood on his back feet with his nose in the air.  Carlos thought for a moment that the squirrel had been alerted to his presence, so he quickly placed his thumb on the rifle’s hammer and cocked it into position.

    A bead of sweat made its way down his forehead and raced toward his right eye.  Just then, the chestnut mare let out a high-pitched whinny that Carlos knew all too well.  Something wasn’t right.  Something bad was about to happen, and Ka knew it.  The bead of sweat that raced toward his eye hit its mark with a stinging vengeance.  Ka let out another whinny that sent a shiver down the sixty-four-year-old Carlos Guzman’s spine.

3

    Joan Caldwell glared at Colleen for a few more uncomfortable moments, and then began fumbling about with the Wal-Mart bags as if she didn’t hear Colleen’s question.

    “Can you put it so it’s lower?” Augie asked David the nurse.

    “You betcha,” replied David.

    Augie leaned slightly forward and David leaned closer so that his chest was a few inches from her face.  The overly-tanned blonde drew in a deep breath through her nostrils and closed her eyes as David adjusted the thin hospital pillow behind Augie’s neck and shoulders.

    “How’s that?” asked David as he held the pillow in place against the mattress.

    “Unbelievable,” said Augie softly.  “Do you make house calls?” she asked as she wriggled against the pillow and batted her one good set of eyelashes at the hulking man that hovered over her.

    “For a price,” chuckled David.  “Anything else I can do for you?”

    “I can think of a hundred things,” replied Augie with a girly chuckle.  “Do you like walnuts?”

    “Love ‘em,” said David as he stood up and put his hands on his hips like the Jolly Green Giant, only he was blue and wore more than leaves as a tunic.  “Did you want me to call the kitchen and ask if they have any?”

    “Nevermind,” said Augie as she turned her 9^th shade of red and glanced at Colleen, who was studying the same walnut-cracker she saw only a minute before.

    “Okay,” said David.  “You’re in good hands here.  I’ll be floating around all day if you think of anything else.”

    David looked at his watch, then back at Augie.  He gave her a playful wink, and then headed for the door.  Amy dried her hands, turned toward Augie, and leaned against the edge of the counter.

    “Sounds good,” said Augie.

    David grabbed the door’s handle on the way out and pulled it shut behind him.  The latch made a dull thud and the door bumped loudly against its metal frame.

    “Sounds good,” said Joan as if she were part of the conversation, but was clearly in a world of her own.  All eyes turned to Colleen’s sixty-one-year old mother-in-law, who stared out the window, still in a trance.  She stroked the loops of the plastic bags between her fingers over and over.

    Colleen turned her head back toward Augie.

    “Sounds good,” Colleen repeated in a high-pitched, mocking tone.

    “Oh… my God,” said Augie as she brought her left hand to her upper chest.

    “August Riley, you should be ashamed of yourself,” said Amy playfully.

    “Why?” Augie asked, but already knew the answer.

    Amy paused before she answered.

    “Do you like walnuts?” Amy repeated in the same kind of mocking tone as Colleen.

    “What’s wrong with that?” asked Augie.  “I just wanted to know if he liked walnuts.”

    “Uh huh…,” said Amy through a heavy smirk.

    “I don’t get it,” Colleen chimed in.  “Why would you ask him if he liked walnuts?”

    Augie turned a deeper shade of red and wriggled against her pillow again, but said nothing.  Amy wadded her paper towels into a ball and tossed them into the trash bin, and then checked her watch.

    “Hello?” said Colleen, but again got no response from Augie.  “What does that mean?”

    Augie pulled her covers over her head and tried to keep from laughing.

    “It means…,” Amy started, and then took a deep breath before she continued.  “David could crack walnuts with his butt cheeks.”

    Colleen turned her head to one side tried to picture in her head what Amy had just said.

    “Crack walnuts with his butt cheeks,” Colleen repeated softly, straightened her head, and then closed her eyes.  “Oh… my… God.”

    “Can you see it now?” asked Augie from beneath her covers.

    “Uh, yyyyeah,” replied Colleen, who still had her eyes closed.  “I’m getting a signal now.”

    Suddenly there was a light knock at the door.

    “Come in,” said Joan, who instantly came back from the world she was lost in.

    All eyes turned to Joan again.  She stopped stroking the plastic loops of the bags and turned around toward the three confused women in Room 258.

    “What are you all looking at?” asked Joan as she glanced from Colleen to Augie, and then to Amy.

    “Nothing, Mother,” said Colleen.

    “There’s someone at the door,” Joan said as she pointed her Wal-Mart bag in the door’s direction.

4

    Carlos squeezed his right eye tightly in an attempt to wring away the salty, stinging liquid that blurred his vision.  Eerie silence surrounded him.  Even the chickadee that offered his disapproval a few moments before was silent or had fled to safety.  Carlos held his breath and stood motionless in the middle of the valley that separated the Triple C from the Reagan Library complex on the hill a mile to the East.

    Carlos’s ears started to ring and sweat poured into both of his eyes.

    “Be still,” he thought to himself.  “Don’t move.”

    The chestnut mare made no sound.  The ringing in his ears raged louder and louder against the nothingness of the silent wilderness.  Even the wind that usually whipped through the valley in late August offered no comfort to him or his horse.

    “She knows better,” Carlos whispered and then took in a slow, deep breath with his eyes closed.

    Then the silence was broken by something behind him.  Something he couldn’t quite make out.  Carlos opened his stinging eyes.  The brown shrubs and green prickly pear screamed brightly past the gleaming black barrel of the rifle that he still held suspended in the stale air.

    “Move again,” whispered Carlos.

    As if by Carlos’s command, the silence was broken once again by whatever was behind him.

    “There,” Carlos said softly.  “Come out.”

    Carlos closed his eyes again.  He searched his mind for an image to go along with the odd, faint scraping sound that played tricks on his ears.  Silence again.

    “Once more,” said Carlos.

    Then the scraping began again.  The sound came from a position more to his right and behind him, but was more dull and muffled.  Carlos suddenly found the image he was looking for inside his head.  It was brown like the coastal desert floor.  Small.  Dangerous.

    “But wait,” said Carlos.  “There are two.”

    Carlos was right.  There were two.

5

    The door of Room 258 at Los Robles Hospital opened and closed more often than the door of Starbucks across the street from Malibu Country Mart on a Saturday afternoon.

    “Knock knock,” said a raspy female voice as the door opened to reveal a woman in her mid-thirties with thick glasses and short dark hair.  “Time for lunch.”

    “Oh, thank God,” said Augie.  “I’m starving.”

    “Me, too,” said Colleen as she shifted her position and pressed the button on the bedrail that elevated the head of the bed.  “Somethin’ smells good.”

    The woman in the doorway held the same kind of plastic tray in her hands as the one from breakfast. 

    “Here we are,” said the woman to Augie.  “Do you want me to pull your table closer?”

    “No, thank you,” replied Augie with a grunt.

    Colleen’s stomach growled as she watched the woman slide Augie’s tray onto the long table beside her bed.

    “Please tell me you have another one of those somewhere,” said Colleen.

    “Lunch is served, Miss Caldwell,” called a man’s voice from the doorway.

    Father Francis Jones sauntered into the room with a tray of hospital food in his hands and the smile of a Wal-Mart greeter on his face.  Colleen turned her head and glared at Joan.  The woman that brought Augie’s tray passed by Father Jones on her way out the door.

    “Thank you, Father,” the woman called over her shoulder and then headed out the door.

    “You’re welcome, Ava,” he replied and then stepped toward the foot of Colleen’s bed.

    Colleen closed her eyes and shook her head.  The sides of her jaws tightened as she gritted her teeth and opened her eyes again.

    “Beware of priests baring gifts,” Colleen said with a directness that caught Father Jones by surprise.

    “I believe you mean beware of Greeks baring gifts,” replied Father Jones cautiously.

    “No I don’t,” said Colleen as she glanced at Augie, who had already disappeared beneath her covers.

    “Is this a bad time?” asked the seventy-one-year-old man of the cloth.

    “Not at all, Father,” Joan piped in nervously.  “We were-“

    “Yes,” Colleen interrupted, and then paused as she took in a deep breath before speaking again.  “This is a very… bad time.”

    Joan’s jaw dropped to the floor and she whipped her head around so fast that Colleen thought it would twist off.  Colleen tightened her lips and stared directly at Father Jones through squinted eyes.  She began to breathe heavily through flared nostrils while Amy busied herself by searching through the large pockets of her scrub top.  Amy hoped the awkward pause would pass quickly, but knew better.

    “Amy, would you pull the curtain shut, please?” Augie asked in a low, muffled tone.

    “Sure will,” said the nurse softly.

    “Oh,” said Father Jones.  “Mmmmaybeee I should come back later.”

    Another awkward pause filled the room.  Colleen saw that Joan was about to speak.

    “Or not at all,” Colleen spat through gritted teeth.

    Joan was paralyzed.  She couldn’t bring herself to turn and look at Father Jones.  Instead she stood with her chin to her chest and watched Colleen’s lips turn white and her face turn red.

    “Fair enough,” said the priest meekly as he stood dumbfounded with Colleen’s lunch tray in his hands.

    “That’s what you said the first time,” Colleen sputtered in the same tone.  “But here you are.”

    The priest was taken aback by the elevated tone in the young woman’s voice.  Suddenly he felt hot all over.

    “I just thought-“ Jones started.

    “You thought wrong,” Colleen interrupted again.

    The privacy curtain slid harshly along its rails as Amy pulled the curtain most of the way around Augie’s bed.

    “Would you like me to put your lunch on the table?” asked Father Jones in a submissive tone.

    “That’s not my lunch,” Colleen said loudly.  “I don’t give a shit what you do with it!”

    “Colleen!” scoffed Joan.

    Augie started to sob, which enraged Colleen even more.  Adrenaline pushed morphine aside as it pulsed through her broken, horse-trampled body.  Somewhere inside the gorgeous young woman’s body, an invisible “hot button” was punched just a little too hard.

    “Colleen, my ass!” shouted the red-faced owner of Triple C Ranch.  “I asked you to do one goddamn thing for me, and you didn’t do it!”

    Joan erupted in a sob of tears.

    “I’m sor-ry!” Joan bawled.  “I couldn’t find him and I didn’t get the chance to tell you!”

    Suddenly the lights from the hallway were blocked by someone standing in the doorway.

    “Everything okay in here?” asked David, the massive walnut-cracking nurse.

    Joan’s shoulders shook as she completely broke down into a mess of sobs, bawls, and incoherent grunts and groans.

    “David, would you mind buying Father what’s-his-name here a cup of coffee?  I think he could use one,” Colleen said forcefully without breaking her stare from the shocked priest standing in front of her.

    “I’d be happy to,” replied David in a deep, commanding voice.  “Father?”

    The priest opened his mouth to say something, but was having difficulty putting together a complete sentence.  He knew that no matter what he said, it would only make things worse.  Tiny beads of perspiration smattered his forehead.

    “Peace be with you, my child,” was all Father Francis Jones could think to say.

    Joan turned and dropped the Wal-Mart bag into the recliner next to Colleen’s bed.  She covered her mouth and sobbed uncontrollably.  The emotionally and physically scarred August Riley joined in chorus with sobs of her own from the other side of the curtain.  Father Jones turned and headed quickly out the door, followed closely by Amy.  The lunch tray that was originally intended for Colleen made its way back onto the cart, untouched.

    David leaned in the doorway, balanced himself on one foot and then pulled the door shut with the same loud thud as before.  Colleen heard muffled voices in the hall between Joan’s sobs, but couldn’t make out what the voices were saying.  She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself.  Her aching chest rose and fell with each adrenaline-filled breath.  Augie’s sobs turned to sniffles and Joan held her breath while tears poured from her eyes.

    Colleen knew she had to say something before things got really out of hand.  She shook her head in disgust at the fact that she reacted the way she did.  She knew instantly that she was too harsh on Joan.  She couldn’t help it.  Something inside her kept pushing and pushing and wouldn’t stop.  Colleen felt evil and ashamed.  Tears began to make their way down her cheeks as well.  She had to speak.

    “Mom,” said Colleen calmly, but got no response.

    The metal latch of the door clicked once again and Colleen opened her eyes.  She was alone, save for Augie who had shut herself in and isolated herself from the outside world.  Joan had left the room before Colleen could say a word to her.

6

    “I see you,” whispered Carlos with his eyes still closed.  “Pass me and I will not hurt you.”

    The scraping sound behind him to his right stopped, but almost immediately the one to his left started again.

    “I see you, too,” said Carlos softly.  “Pass me and I will not hurt you.”

    Suddenly the scraping sound stopped.  Carlos opened his eyes and the ringing in his ears returned. He stood motionless and struggled to adjust his sweat-filled eyes to the light.

    “Your answer is the wrong one, my friend.” said Carlos aloud.  “Today one of us will die.”

    Carlos placed his thumb on the Winchester’s firing hammer and pulled it back as far as it would go.  He then squeezed the trigger and eased the hammer back to its original position.  The rifle made no sound as he released the trigger, caressed the ribbed hammer with his calloused thumb and thought about his next move.

    The ringing grew louder inside his head.  He closed his eyes and the grainy flashes of desert landscape danced across his eyelids and then faded.  Carlos tried to paint a picture of the scene behind him.  He knew that when it came down to “brass taxes,” which his assistant foreman often misquoted, his survival depended on how accurate he was with the seven-pound, hundred-year-old rifle in his hands.

    A wisp of air brushed Carlos’ face and brought the fragrance of leather mixed with the sweat of his well-worked companion to his nostrils.  He opened his eyes and blinked away the leftover sweat that continued its assault on his stinging eyes.

    “Chick-chick,” Carlos commanded softly out the side of his mouth, hoping that Ka heard the familiar noise that usually preceded the “Vamos!” command.

    Ka let a low, soft whinny in response, but didn’t move an inch.

    “Chick-chick,” Carlos repeated.

    Ka let another whinny that was a little louder than the first one, and then took in a deep breath.  She snorted and pawed at the dirt with a dull thud.  Small clumps of sand sprayed into the bushes on both sides of the trail.

    Suddenly the sound Carlos had been waiting for presented itself loudly.

    “Ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka!” the rattlesnake to the left warned.

    “Ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka-tick!” the other rattler to the right announced.

    “Ssssssi,” said the Triple C Ranch Foreman softly.  “I see you now.”

    Carlos closed his eyes once more.  Images of the angry, cold-blooded killers behind him and to his left came together in his head like a jigsaw puzzle.  He listened as both snakes shook their tails furiously at the sweaty chestnut mare.  Ka continued her nervous digging at the compacted trail dirt, and the tiny maracas in the middle of the trail grew even louder.

    Carlos knew that the snakes had the drop on his position, but was sure that Ka would more than make up the difference.  Ka was his ace in the hole.  Carlos remembered what he was told by his father many times when he was just a boy. 

    “There is no match for an honest man, a well-trained horse, and a good rifle,” Carlos repeated his father’s words in his head.  Carlos had all three and the experience of two lifetimes under his straw hat, which gave him the edge he needed.

    The dull pain of fatigue built in his arms as he became painfully aware that he was still holding the seven-pound rifle in the air in front of him.  Salty pools of sweat gathered outside the corners of the tanned ranch foreman’s eyes and waited for the chance to deliver their stinging cargo to their destination.

    Suddenly the rattler to his left stopped shaking its tail, and Carlos knew what that meant.  It meant that the rattler was about to move, and if he didn’t act soon, someone would soon have a dangerous elixir coursing through their veins.

    “Chick-chick-chick!” Carlos sputtered loudly out the side of his mouth, his eyes still closed.

    Ka whinnied loudly, which signaled his readiness to his owner.

    “Chick-chick-chick!” Carlos commanded.

    Ka chunked at the dirt with authority and lowered his head, which made the second rattler start in again with a frenzied clatter.  Carlos turned his head slightly and homed in on the serpent’s position.  The serpent had moved further forward, and was nearly in front of him.

    “Bueno,” Carlos whispered softly to himself.

    Ka waited anxiously for the command that would put an end to the disorder in the dusty valley that shared boundaries with the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library, one of the most peaceful places on earth. 

7

    “You sure know how to bring down a room, don’t you?” Augie asked between sniffles.

    “Why did I do that?” asked Colleen through short sniffles.

    “A better question might be; why do you feel like you have to do that?” inquired Augie.

    “What do you-?” Colleen started, but was interrupted by Augie.

    “I mean, did you do that because of what I told you about my history with Priests?” asked Augie.  “Or is there something else behind all of that bullshit?”

    A long pause followed Augie’s question.  Colleen didn’t know what to say, or even how to say what she was thinking.

    “What bullshit?” Colleen asked in a defensive posture.

    “You upset your mother pretty bad,” Augie scolded from behind the thick privacy curtain.

    “She’s not my mother!” shouted Colleen.

    “Yes she is, you ungrateful bitch!” Augie shouted, mirroring Colleen’s sudden hostility.  “She’s the closest thing you will ever have, and you shit all over her like she’s nobody!”

    “I-I-,” Colleen stuttered.

    “That’s twice I’ve heard you treat your mother like she is some fucking peon!” Augie interrupted again.  “My own mother hasn’t said two words to me since… I don’t know how long, and I would kill to have someone cater to me the way that woman caters to you!”

    “I-I-,” was the only word Colleen could manage to push from her lips.

    “You!” Augie shouted.  “You need to swallow some of that bullshit pride of yours!”

    Colleen’s sniffles turned to sobs.  The heavy sledgehammer of rage began to build in her chest.

    “How… dare… you!” bawled Colleen.  “Nobody-,”

    “Nobody what?” Augie continued, disgusted.  “Huh?  Nobody talks to you like that?  Yeah, I know… Nobody talks to the all-knowing and all-powerful Colleen like that, is that it?”

    “No,” Colleen sputtered between choppy breaths and fountains of tears.

    “Well… I’m not just anybody,” said Augie condescendingly.

    “I just thought-,” Colleen began, but couldn’t finish her sentence.

    “You thought wrong, Princess!” Augie shouted.  “I don’t ask nobody for help, especially a one-legged prom queen like you!”

    Colleen no longer felt rage.  What she felt at that moment was much worse than the sledgehammer of rage.  She felt the mountain of shame.

“And besides,” Augie continued.  “I have had my ass kicked by bastards far bigger than you!”

“I… suck!” blurted Colleen.

    Augie started to say something even more demeaning, but caught herself.  Her ribs ached from yelling, and she felt she had already done more damage than the woman in the bed next to hers deserved.  She took a long pause so that they could both breathe.

    “Look,” said Augie.  “To that woman… you… are her daughter.”

    “I know,” Colleen said meekly.

    “And her daughter was almost killed yesterday,” Augie added.  “You don’t think she’s scared shitless because she almost lost the only daughter she ever knew?”

    “Yeah,” replied Colleen.  “She’s probably not thinkin’ straight.”

    “You bet your ass she’s not thinkin’ straight,” said Augie.  “She said she couldn’t find the priest, right?”

    “Yeah, but-,” Colleen started.

    “But shit,” Augie scolded lightly.  “She tried and couldn’t find him.  That’s hardly her fault, is it?”

    “No, it’s just that-,” Colleen started again.

“It’s just that for some reason, you felt the need to lash out at her like it was her fault that the priest showed up again.  Am I right?” asked Augie.  “Don’t even answer that,” she continued before Colleen could say a word.  “Of course I’m right.”

    “You’re right,” Colleen said calmly, and then took a deep breath.

    “You can repair the damage you did,” said Augie.  “I guarantee she will let you.”

    “I almost said something after the priest left, but…,” Colleen said as she wiped her nose with her right hand.

    “She was already gone,” Augie finished her sentence.

    “Yeah,” said Colleen.

    “Would you have stayed in the room for more of the same after what you said to her?” Augie reasoned.

    “Well… no,” Colleen said and then took a deep breath.

    “Well, even if she had stayed in the room, she didn’t look like she was in any shape to listen to anything you had to say,” said Augie in a tone that was more calm and soothing than before.  “She looked like she was in outer space even before you started in with the yelling.”

    “Yeah,” said Colleen as she tilted her head sideways like a confused puppy.  “She was…,”

    “She was all fucked up already,” Augie finished Colleen’s sentence again.

    “Yeah… all fucked up,” Colleen repeated.

    Colleen replayed the events in her head.  She thought about the look on Joan’s face while Augie was screaming.

    “What was that all about?” Colleen asked herself softly.

    “What part?” asked Augie.

    “Sorry,” said Colleen.  “I was just thinking about the look in Mom’s eyes.”

    “What did it look like?” asked Augie.

    Colleen thought about Augie’s question from the other side of the privacy curtain.

    “Have you ever seen a snake up close?” Colleen asked.

8

    “Ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka!” the rattlesnake in front of Carlos scolded.

    Ka pawed at the packed trail one last time and let out a short, nervous whinny as she awaited the command from her master.  Carlos took a long, deep breath and held it for a few seconds.  He slowly lowered his chin toward his chest and the puddles of sweat that had gathered in the corners of his eyes dropped to the ground.

    “Vamos!” Carlos shouted loudly.

    Ka did exactly as she was trained to do.  She reared her powerful body into the air and let out a long, high-pitched whinny that sounded like a woman’s scream.  Her back feet kicked streams of dirt in front of her, which made both snakes immediately turn their attention away from Carlos.

    Carlos quickly opened his eyes, reversed his grip on the end of the Winchester’s barrel, let go of the stock with his right hand and flipped the rifle end-for-end so that the barrel pointed straight at his chest.  With the speed and accuracy of a professional baseball player, he gripped the end of the barrel with both hands like a bat, whipped his upper body around and swung for the bleachers at the snake that was closest to him.

    The thick end of the sturdy Winchester bat hit its mark, and the snake’s skull cracked like the sound of a home run at Dodger Stadium.  The snake flew through the air and broke into two bloody pieces.  The smaller, fatter piece, which Carlos assumed was the head, flew further than the rest of the snake’s body.  The longer part tumbled through the air and landed in a clump of prickly pear cactus about thirty yards up the trail.

    The shiny metal shoes on Ka’s front feet fanned the air like a boxer working a speed bag as the other snake struck at her over and over.  Ka let her heavy body fall back to earth, and her front feet hit the dirt with an eerie crunch.  She immediately reared into the air and continued her screaming, but the ticka-ticka-ticka sound of the second snake stopped.  Ka had hit her mark as well.

    Carlos quickly regained his balance and stood on the hard trail with his feet wide apart.  The bloody severed tail of the second raging rattler lay lifelessly in the dirt a few inches away from its coiled body.

    Ka kicked up more dirt as Carlos flipped the Winchester end-for-end back to the proper shooting position, but the thick clouds of dust made it difficult to see the ground.

    “Oy! Oy!” Carlos shouted, and then backed up a few paces.  Ka lowered her feet back to the earth with a dull thud.  Her screams turned to a series of short whinnies and snorts.

    “Sssss!” hissed Carlos.

    Ka dragged her feet backward a few steps as Carlos commanded, let out a long snort and shook her head.  Carlos reached for the rifle’s firing hammer and caressed the ribbed metal with his thumb.  He searched the ground frantically for the other snake as the clouds of dust began to settle, but the snake was nowhere to be found.

    Ka snorted a response and shook her head again.  The ends of her reins rested in the fine dirt directly below her head.

    Carlos coughed at the dust that rose from the dry trail beneath him.  He turned in his tracks and nervously aimed the Winchester at everything he saw, but the second snake was long gone.  Ka shifted her weight and took in a deep breath before letting out a low, comforting whinny.

    “Another time,” said Carlos aloud.

    Carlos lowered the rifle from his shoulder and inspected it for damage.  A shiny, thin splotch of deep red blood was smattered across the right side of the Winchester’s wooden stock.  Carlos held the gun’s barrel with his left hand and pressed the stock against his stomach.  He reached into his right front pocket and pulled out a red, neatly-folded handkerchief.

    “Aye!” scoffed Carlos.

    The sight of the blood stain turned his stomach into knots.  The thought of using his most prized possession as nothing more than a club disgusted him.  He gently wiped away the serpent’s blood and checked his surroundings in case the other snake decided to have another go.

    Ka stood sleepily with her head lowered below her withers.  Dirty spittle caked her lips as she lazily gummed at her bridle.

    “Si, old friend,” said Carlos aloud.  “I too thirst.”

    Carlos heard the disapproving “peep” of the same pale brown chickadee that had disappeared a few minutes earlier.  The chickadee flitted from pad to pad in the clump of prickly pear cactus where the body of the first snake landed.  He pecked at the tiny spots of dark blood where the spines had been knocked off by the rattler’s heavy body.

    Carlos suddenly remembered why he stopped at that spot in the middle of the valley to begin with.  He thought about the ground squirrel that caught his eye and knew that if he turned and looked that the squirrel would be gone.

9

    “A snake?” Augie asked.  “You mean have I seen one like at a zoo or something?”

    “No, I mean like really close-up,” Colleen replied.

    “When I was like six we caught a garter snake in the yard, but I never really got a good look at it.  It was just this little bitty thing,” Augie added.

    “This is a little different,” said Colleen.

    “Different like how?” asked Augie.

    “Well, I knew this guy once that had this huge boa constrictor,” Colleen explained.

    “Eew!” Augie squirmed.

    “I know, right?  Disgusting-looking thing,” said Colleen.  “He kept it in this big aquarium in his living room.

    “I don’t mind snakes, but I wouldn’t want one as a pet,” said Augie.

    “Same here,” said Colleen.  “I don’t mind ‘em and we see so many at the ranch.  We just let them go about their business, and if you leave them alone, they leave you alone.”

    “Uh huh,” said Augie sarcastically.  “That’s what I thought about my boyfriend, and look what happened to me.”

    Colleen wasn’t sure what to say next.  She couldn’t read the look on Augie’s face, so she continued as if she didn’t hear her comment.

    “Anyway, they used to feed this boa constrictor these big damn rats,” Colleen continued.  “Now that’s disgusting.”

    “Oh yeah,” added Augie.  “I fuckin’ hate rats.”

    “What I learned was, once they start the process of shedding their skin, you gotta be careful when you feed ‘em,” Colleen said.

    “Why?” asked Augie.  “I mean, I imagine you gotta be really careful when you feed snakes anyway, but what difference does it make how you feed them when they start shedding?”

    “Before they shed their skin, they get this thick, milky film over their eyes and they can’t see too good,” informed Colleen.  “It’s really creepy-lookin’.”

    “Well,” Augie corrected.

    “What?” asked Colleen.

    “They can’t see too well,” Augie said with a chuckle.

    “That too,” said Colleen sarcastically.  “Anyway, they can’t see too good, so if you make any sudden movements while you’re feeding them, they strike at whatever they see because they think it’s food.”

    “No shit,” said Augie.

    “No shit,” Colleen assured.  “My point is… that look in their eyes… that milky-white film that they get before they shed their skin…,”

    “That’s what your mother’s eyes looked like when she was in outer space somewhere,” Augie added assumingly.

    “Exactly like that,” replied Colleen.  “It sent a shiver up my spine.”

    “Hmmm,” Augie added.  “So she wasn’t herself by any stretch of the imagination.”

    “Not at all,” said Colleen.  “I didn’t know who it was standing there.”

    “So… what do you do now?” asked Augie.  “How are you gonna repair the damage you did?”

    “Fuck, I don’t know,” said Colleen in a defeated tone.  “I’ll just let it blow over, I guess.”

“No… you won’t,” Augie instructed.  “You will meet it head on and take care of it before it’s too late.”

    “But…,” Colleen said, but trailed off.

    “But what?” asked Augie.

    “But what if it’s too late?” asked Colleen.

    “It’s never too late,” replied Augie.

    “Does that go for you, too?” Colleen asked.

    “We’re not talking about me right now,” replied Augie smartly.

    Room 258 had calmed down once again, but both tenants knew that there were more storms headed their way within the next few hours.

    “Where the hell is that call bell thing?” Colleen asked aloud as she searched the covers around her.  “Here it is.”

    Colleen pushed the call button and shifted her position in the uncomfortable bed.  She stared at the metal pins that protruded from her left leg and shook her head in disgust.

    “Can I help you?” asked Amy’s voice from the call box on the wall.

    “Amy, can you come in when you have a minute?” asked Colleen loudly.

    “Sure can,” said Amy.  “It’ll be about five minutes, is that okay?  Or did you need something before that?”

    “No, that’s fine,” said Colleen.

    Colleen heard the sound of a can of soda being opened on Augie’s side of the heavy privacy curtain.  She suddenly realized how hungry she was and looked at the mostly-empty bedside table.  It had a small plastic pitcher of water, a foam cup, and the leftover bacon from breakfast wrapped in plastic.

    “Augie?” Colleen called quietly.

    Augie slurped her soda loudly and swallowed before she answered.  The bubbles from the warm Sprite tickled her nose.

    “YEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHH?” Augie belched thunderously.

    Dead silence.

    Augie cupped her mouth, surprised by the loud eruption that emanated from deep within her.  She tried to contain her laughter, but knew if she held it inside that her whole body would hurt even more.  Her eyes watered and her nostrils burned from the acidic bite of the soda’s carbonation.

    “Un… fucking… believable!” scoffed Colleen.

    “HA HA HA HA HA!” Augie blurted and then gulped a painful, choppy breath before bellowing another round of uncontained laughter.  “HA HA HA HA HA!”

    Colleen closed her eyes and shook her head.  She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.  Either of them hurt her chest too much, and her left shoulder ached worse than her leg. 

    “Good one,” Colleen said finally with a smirk on her face that no one else could see.

    “Hooo-eeee!” Augie said in a high-pitched chortle.  “That one burned-id!”

    “How can something so small let out something so loud, for Christ’s sake?” Colleen asked in a faux scolding tone.

    “It’s a gift,” Augie chuckled, and then slurped a smaller sip of her soda.  “I learned from the best.”

    “And who was that?” Colleen asked.  “Britney Spears?”

    “Ha!” spurted Augie in response.

    Colleen shifted her position and the pillow that supported her left leg had worked its way out to the end of the bed between her feet.  She settled to a less-comfortable position and grunted as she turned her head and looked at her broken shoulder.  She was sure that the blue sling that held her arm in place wouldn’t be there long if she had anything to say about it.

    “Camorrista,” said Colleen with a chuckle as she recalled what Carlos had told her about the troublesome filly.

    “What?” Augie asked and then took another sip of her Sprite.

    “I was just thinking about what my foreman said about the horse that did this to me,” said Colleen.

    “What was the word you said a second ago?” asked Augie.

    “I said Camorrista,” replied Colleen.  “It means trouble in Spanish… or more accurately… troublesome.”

    “Huh,” said Augie.

    “So that’s what my foreman named the horse,” Colleen continued.  “Cah-mor-ee-stuh.”

    “Everything settled down in here now?” Amy called from the doorway.

    “Speaking of trouble,” Augie chided.

    “Uh huh,” Amy mocked as she stepped in the room and closed the door quietly behind her.

    “Thank God Amy’s here again,” said Colleen.

    “Why?” Amy asked as she pulled another pair of gloves from the box on the wall.  “What’s wrong?”

    “My pillow fell out,” said Colleen in a girly voice.

    “My pillow fell out,” Augie mocked sharply.

    “Eat your lunch, Godzilla,” Colleen scolded.

    “Wuh-ever,” said Augie through a mouthful of food.

    Amy approached Colleen’s bedside and re-worked the pillow under the gorgeous blonde’s mangled leg.  The other pillow behind Colleen’s head and shoulders had worked its way over to one side.

    “You are just a mess here,” said Amy as she straightened covers, untangled covers, and helped Colleen adjust to a more comfortable position.

    “That’s not the half of it,” said Colleen with a deep sigh.  “I made a huge mess of things all around.”

    Amy said nothing as she continued checking everything around Colleen’s bed, including the amount of morphine dispensed from the pump.

    “You haven’t needed any extra morphine over the last couple of hours?” Amy asked.

    “Well,” Colleen began.  “I wouldn’t say I haven’t needed it… I just keep forgetting to punch the damn button.”

    “Okay.  You know it’s there if you need it,” said Amy reassuringly.  “It’s a good sign that you’re forgetting it already.

    “It is?” Colleen asked.

    “It is,” Amy replied.  “It just means that the pain is subsiding or that you have a high threshold for it.”

    “It’s the second one,” said Colleen.  “I’ve been through a lot of pain over the last year… or more than that, actually.”

    “And there’s more to come,” Augie added from the other side of the curtain.