Fistful of Reefer

Fistful of Reefer: scene 59 & 60

Nena dumped the contents of the saddle bag on the cabin floor. Taking the medical kit she opened the lid slowly. An angry beetle clattered inside it. After preparing all the ingredients she cut Muddy's pants to the crotch and gripped the oversized beetle with her thumb and forefinger.

Chancho helped Muddy drink as Nena guided the beetle in its work. The guano salve disinfected the ragged edges of the wound, a through and through, and the water revived him.

"I'm fine." He stroked Nena's hair as she stooped over him.

"You're alive."

"We're all alive." He tried to soothe the warrior in her.

"I'm not sure that is such a good thing," she hissed.

The barbs were too many for Chancho to shrug them off. Nena's temper had flared at him before, but it had always died down quickly. "Lo siento. I'm sorry for bringing trouble." His quiet, happy life had nearly gone from his memory.

"Are you? You speak without change." She narrowed her eyes at him. "I will not listen any more. We should have gone to Mexico."

Muddy clutched her hand. "I stopped us from—"

"You listened to him." Nena put both her hands on Muddy's face. "I need you to listen to me. Jesse is dead." Muddy closed his eyes. Nena continued. "The ranger is still pursuing us and now the cavalry. This will not stop. It is getting worse." Her voice wavered causing Muddy to open his eyes and look deeply into hers. "We had a quiet life."

He pulled her to him and embraced her trembling body. "We will again."

She shook her head. "No, we won't. Not like this. There is nowhere for us to go. Why didn't you fly to Mexico?"

He held her head in his hands, looking again into her eyes. "I was angry. I am angry. Jesse served these people his entire life, for right or for wrong. Four years retired and they gun him down at the very fort he served to protect, like a dog. He did nothing but help us. We did nothing but defend ourselves. I will not allow it to stand. No life lived like that is worth living."

Life returning to him, he shifted his gaze between Nena and Chancho. "These people will know they were served and protected by the likes of Jesse Warrior, by generations of Warriors, even if I am the last one remaining." He stroked Nena's hair. "We must earn the life before we can live it. It is how it has always been. Chancho?"

"¿Si?"

"We're heading east, correct?"

"Si. Toward the boomtown we saw from the air."

"Good. It'll be a lawless place."

"We cannot hide. They know what we look like now, not that we would blend anyway." Nena could not let it go.

Chancho shoveled more coal into the furnace and checked the boiler levels. Bumping against a clipboard he loosed several papers. While gathering them before the wind could whip them from the cabin, a headline caught his eye. "Hola, what's this?" He read out loud from the flyer.

"A dry vote is against Del Rio Villarreal and his friends. A dry vote is against immigrants, yes. But a dry vote is against progress too. A dry vote is against liberty. America will only remain the land of the free as long as it is home to the brave. Blowhards and fear mongers are already destroying both. The evidence is clear for those willing to see."

He looked at the other two. "It is signed Bronco O'Brien." He scanned the inside of the pamphlet, his eyes widening. "It's about us! All of it."

"Everything?"