We lie in the middle of the New Mexico territory dessert. The sun is subtle as it slowly inches towards sun set. My skin turning from brown to gold as a reflection from the golden sunlight. As I lie here, Billy grabs my hand as he lies beside me. We don't look over at each other, we just feel each other. His hand is calloused and it reminds me of my grandpa. A warm feeling washes over me.
Chavez sings an ancient Navajo song that sounds like my childhood. I remember back to before my parents were gone, my fathers long black hair cradling me as he sang the very song. I try to listen closer, the melody intertwining with the wind, but one does not overpower the other.
Doc and Charlie pass a bottle back and forth between each other. Dick and chip lay against the hard earth exactly like Billy and I, only they don't hold hands. And that brings me full circle as I feel Billy's thumb trace circles on the side of my hand, it relaxes me and soothes me, and the song in the background consumes me. All is quiet. The day turns into night, and the song dies out. I think about today, how my plan worked, and how we got away without a trace.
Someone gets up in the night to start a fire as the cold air creeps into our private nest. But all the while, Billy holds my hand. But there is a small part of me, that wonders what it would be like if it were Chavez in his place.
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YOU ARE READING
Native Outlaw
AdventurePreface I watched my grandpa hang his bloody brass knuckles up by the wooden door. He made his way to the gun safe and put the house riffle away. My grandpa stood there for a long time, hands on his hips and the gun safe standing wide open. He star...
