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Authors: D. Sallen

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BOOK: Circles in the Sand
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Clint said, “Hey, don’t I get anything for bringing you a new customer?”

“Sure” She handed soap to Clint and chuckled, “Maybe not for every new customer. I can’t see all my profits going down the shower drain.”

On the way to their respective rooms, Clint said,” In the morning I’ll take you around town to meet folks…and out to the site. Ruin your day for you.”

“Oh thanks, Buddy.”

Back in his room, Clint wondered why he was vaguely irritated about the encounter between Lance and Dorris.
Maybe it’s because I saw her first. But that doesn’t give me any squatters rights. Down boy.

Lance Werner, unaware of Clint’s interest in Dorris, and indifferent if he knew, thought:
Believe I’d rather have mother than daughter. Shouldn’t be too tough to do,  living here. Wonder who she’s fucking now? Who do I have to shoot out of the saddle?

After breakfast, Clint took Lance to meet the sheriff and Tommy Kerns. When introductions and chit chat was over, Clint said, “We’ll take a run out to the gunnery range. Give Lance a feel for what we’re up against.”

Leaning back in his chair, Radecker said, “The man who knows that parcel best is old Efrain Trovato. He’s got a  sheep camp out there…he stays there most of the time. Probably by those springs near the river.”

“We’ll have to look him up.”

“If I were you, I’d approach him cautiously. He ain’t too friendly to start with. He hears you plan to run him off his range, won’t improve his temper.”

Heading for the door, “I’ll handle him with kid gloves…kid gloves that is, get it, Tommy.”

Laughing and thumbing his nose at Clint, the deputy said “Old Efrain won’t think you’re so funny.”

“Probably not. Can’t win ‘em all.”

Sheriff Radecker said, “Some of us got things to do. Why don’t you two jokers git?”

Back in the truck Lance said, “What dya think of those two? They on our side?”

“Probably. But we haven’t caused any problems yet. Sheriff thinks highly of Fritz Deutsch. When we clash serious horns with him, I guess there’ll be some realignment of  positions around here. Fritz gave Tommy a hard time in Chet’s… front of everybody. Doubt if he’s that fond of him.”

As they pulled out onto the dirt road flanking the southern boundary of the old gunnery range, Clint said, “finding  any property lines out here is pretty chancey. I ‘spect we may have to create our own.”

“When we reach a turnoff to the North, I want to head up it for twelve miles. That’ll put us at the edge of the North side, as near as I can tell.”

When twelve miles were up, Clint turned the truck south. “Three miles back, we should be about opposite where one of the impact zones will be. When I turn east, use my compass and try to keep me going straight for three miles.”

Shortly, “Shit, Clint there’s no way you can go straight out here. Every time you have to jog around a hole, or dodge a gulley, I can’t get us lined up again. No landmarks you can get  a position on…this is some sorry country.”

“Yeah, there’s got to be a better way…three miles on the odometer so we’re somewhere close to where we should be.” They got out and studied the terrain.

“Look over here to the left a little,” Lance pointed.” Looks like some kind of structure.”

“Yeah. Reminds me of one of those gypsy wagons. We’re lucky you saw it. Maybe the elusive Efrain. I don’t know if the truck will make it. Lets walk over and talk to him.”

“How far over there, dya think?”

“Can’t be a very big wagon, so I’m guessing about quarter mile at most.”

Before they got there, Lance was very sorry he was wearing his cowboy boots. “These shoes ain’t made for walking. Can’t go barefoot out here though. These weeds we’re tromping on, got thorns on ‘em”

“Yeah, better unpack your brogans when we get back. No one’s going to think you’re mixing uniform with civies out here.”

As they got closer to the wagon, they could smell the sheep. No human sign yet. Coming up on a small rise, a large dog raced up to confront them…and rumbled a growl from a mouth full of serious fangs. Both men froze.

“I s’pect ‘nice doggie’ is not going to work here,” Clint said.

“He thinks we’re enemies because we’re upright. What you need to do, is slowly crouch down…and offer the back of your hand to him.”

“Yeah? Good advice from a man who’s trying to get behind me. I’d rather you took your own advice. Afterward, I reckon we’ll call you lefty.”

“Senors, Senors. Do not move until I get there. If you don’t move, he won’t hurt you.” Now they could see a small man in a large hat and serape carrying a large stave approach them. He whistled to the dog. It quit growling, but lay down on its stomach to face them. Its eyes never left them;
a coiled spring
, Clint thought to himself. Close enough now to speak in a normal voice the man said, “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“Thanks  for calming the dog. We’re Air Force Sergeants. We’re just scouting out this countryside.”

“Sergeants? How do I know? Where are your uniforms?”

“We don’t wear them on this detached duty.”

“So? And what does your detached duty have to do with my flock in this place?”

Clint said, “From what the Sheriff told us, you must be Efrain Trovato. I’m Sergeant Greybull and …” Clint started to offer his hand, causing the dog to raise on all four and growl. Clint withdrew his hand…”this is Sergeant Werner.”

Travato whistled a command which caused the dog to lie down again. “I don’t care who you are. What are you doing here?”

Clint sighed. “I’m sure you know that where you tend your flock used to be a gunnery ranch. With expended lead, abandoned cartridge cases, and other debris, I’m surprised this is safe ground for your sheep.”

“I’ll worry about that. What is it to you?”

“With the war in Korea going on, the Air Force has to open this gunnery range again…for a bomb scoring site. Your flock won’t be safe when five-hundred pound bombs start coming down here.”

Efrain jumped up and down and spit words in a language they didn’t under stand, then “You can not drop bombs on my sheep! This is my place right here. You can not just take my land. This is America. This is
my
land. You must go away and not come back!”

Not in any position to argue with the angry man, Clint said, “Is your dog going to let us go back to our truck?”

“Yes…” He whistled another command to the dog. “…and I will watch you. Go… and do not come back! I will not warn you next time.”

Favoring his feet, Lance proceeded slowly back to the truck. “This job sure is going to be an adventure. And from what you said, he’s not even the main foe.”

“Yeah, that rancher Deutsh will swing some heavy weight. All in a day’s work for sergeants in this modern Air Force.”

“Reminds me, how close to the bomb site are the towers going to be? I haven’t heard anything about the flyboys being on targets every time. This might be hazardous duty.”

“We’ll find out, won’t we. The watch towers will be sited a mile from the impact zones. I hope that’s far enough away.”

Back on Main Street, Clint said, “How’s a cold beer sound?”

“Music to my dust caked ears…and throat.”

Clint introduced Lance to Chet. “Very best bar tender in all of West Layover.”

“Pleased to meet ya’ Lance.” He drew two beers. “Did he tell ya this is the only bar in town?”

“No, but I ‘spect he was being respectful.”

Tommy Kerns and a dusty, lanky cowboy came into the bar. Kerns introduced his companion as Basil Tree. Clint invited them to join their table and ordered more beer. “Basil rides the range for Fritz Deutsch,” Tommy explained.

Paying for the beer, Clint said, “Basil, you ride the range up in the old gunnery site?”

“Yeah, that’s were most of his steers is.”

“You must know that part of the county better than anyone around. Any chance of you taking us around out there.”

“Naw.  If you ain’t heard it yet, my boss ain’t too happy with you guys. He’d fire my ass, was I to help you.”

Lance put his glass down. “If he’s touchy, he might be pissed with you just sittin’ with us.”

“To hell with that. He’s my boss when I’m working, but when I ain’t, he’s got no say on what I do…or who with.”

“I can see you are your own man, Basil. Just didn’t want to cause any problems.”

“You can’t cause me any problems, Soldier boy. I don’t believe you man enough.”

Lance griped the table, rose, crouched off his chair and stared at Tree. Kerns jumped right up and laid a hand on Basil’s arm. With his hand on Lance’s arm, Clint urged him back down.  “Hey Basil, no need to start your macho bull shit. No ones challenging you!” Kerns said.

Basil sat back in his chair. “Wellll, you didn’t mean no harm…an’ I didn’t either. Just want to let you know who the stud duck is around here.”

“Christ, Basil,” Chet Shaffer said. “There ain’t no use you  preening your feathers in here. This is friendly territory.”

Clint noticed that Chet quietly laid a ball bat on the bar when Basil started mouthing off.

“Yeah, forget it.” He laughed. “Let me buy you guys a beer.”

Calm returned, but Clint wondered if Basil was some kind of nut. Obviously he had a volatile personality and exaggerated view of  himself. They’d have to beware of him.

A honking horn disturbed the uneasy calm. The men looked out the window to see a Cadillac convertible driving up the street, honking as it went. A stunningly beautiful brunet with Amerasian features drove the car. Her companions, two young women were hardly less entrancing  than the driver. Lance said, “Things are really looking up around here. Had no idea there was so much first class snatch around here. But what’s with the horn business?”

Tommy said, “Marie-Elena lettin’ the world know she’s back…and with her college-girl whores. The Boar Pen’ll be open tonight.”

“Yeah,” said Lance. What’s the price of pussy around here?”

“Fifteen bucks for Tawny or Sheree, the two riders, twelve bucks for two local gals.”

“Un hunh. And how about for the driver? She’s a livin’ doll.”

The other men laughed. Chet said, “I don’t think you’ll want to come up with the price for her. A hundred bucks…and your nuts!”

Basil butted in. “Fritz considers her his property, even though she won’t marry him.”

“Huh? I don’t get it.” Lance said.

“No you won’t.” Chet explained the relationship between Fritz, Marie-Elena, and Fritz’s threat.

“Yeah? If that’s so, where is she getting’ her rations?”

Basil said, “not around here, that’s fer damn sure.”

“Where does she go to college,” Clint asked.

“University at Missoula,” Kerns said.

“That’s a hell of a long way from West Layover,” Lance said. “What if she’s getting’ it there? How the hell would Fritz know.”

Basil said, “He don’t. An don’t think that don’t bother him.”

Clint said, “Maybe he’s got someone trailing her. A private eye or someone like that.”

“You smarter than you look, Sergeant.” Basil Tree said.” Fritz don’ take any chances on anything. If she’s screwing some college kid, he better get cock and balls insurance.”

Lance threw in, “I can see why none of the
men
around here are bird-doggin’ her.”

Basil Tree screwed up his face. He didn’t know if he’d been ragged or not. Lance was careful not to look at him when he said that.

Basil said, “Damn shame Tawny comes back when I ain’t got paid yet. I’d sure like to give her a proper welcome.”

Tommy said, “Since you ain’t got in line, wouldn’t make any difference. Unless you want to be tail-end Charlie.”

“Shit no! When I go to see Tawny I expect to be first in line!”

Chet chuckled. “Better plan on middle of the week then.”

Lance asked, “How many girls work in the Boar Pen?”

Chet said, “I believe Olivia herself is retired from active participation. All though that’s a shame. She used to enjoy her work. Anyway, that leaves two regular gals, maybe a part-time Indian gal, and when schools out, those two friends of Marie-Elena.”

“I ain’t never seen an Indian gal in there,” Basil said. “Don’t want to neither. I see any Indian bucks in there…gonna be big trouble.”

When Basil went to the men’s room, Chet said, “Olivia’s no fool. She only has the Sioux gal there when she knows the Indians got money. The bucks slip across the Possum River to the back of her property. Most people don’t know that.”

Clint said, “Sounds like your race problem is with Indians instead of Blacks.”

“That’s right,” Tommy said. “Ain’t no negras anywhere around here.”

“Has anyone here heard that the Armed Forces are integrated now?” Clint said. “Some of the troops coming in for the bomb site could be Black.”

Returning from the toilet, Basil heard the last remark. “Man, you guys gonna cause more ‘n more  problems. Never had no Blacks here, an’ don’t want any. They show up, you better ship ‘em right out.”

“Aren’t there any in the Army down at Ft Peck?” Clint said.

“If there is, they know better than to come up here.” Basil said.

Tommy said, “Basil, you one o’ them clan members? Have your own sheet?”

“Naw. Don’t need any mask. Any show up, it better not be in my sight.”

Lance said, “Been nice talking to you guys, but time to get some chow, and check on the line to see Miss Sheree. Don’ want to cut into Basil’s herd.”

“Now you getting smart fly boy. Don’t nobody get in my way.”

Lance decided to walk. When they got back together in the restaurant, Clint said, “I hope there aren’t many like Basil around, otherwise I’d think in-breeding is popular here.”

“Yeah. Basil is a problem all by himself. I believe a few of his resistors are burned out.”

“Could be. He’s strange. Don’t know if you noticed, but while he was trying to be friendly again, every now and then I could see him glaring at you, his mouth twisting.”

“Yeah, I ain’t blind or dumb. I’ll be wishing I had eyes in the back of my head when he’s in the neighborhood.”

“Yeah, I don’t believe we can trust him out of sight. I wonder how really crazy he is.”

“If he’s Fritz’s trained puppy, I bet when any trouble starts, Basil will be nearby, hiking his leg on the evidence..” 

BOOK: Circles in the Sand
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