"Oh yeah, real good pick there George," Bill smiled and
shook his head. A few years ago a friend of Bill's had liked to draw cartoons
of the dogs. His favorite had been one of Willie and the Spook. It was a
sketch of the two Whippets standing over the dead body of Bugs Bunny...little
Xs for eyes and all. The balloon over Spooky's head had him saying to Willie,
"We can't let anyone know about this." Bill had to laugh a bit
whenever he thought about it. George had a special affinity for Willie.
They'd shared an early bonding experience together. When the pups were around
six months old, Willie had developed a nasty habit of biting to get attention.
George had been really good and had put up with a lot of the pup's nonsense.
Bill had been in the kitchen one afternoon when he heard a terrible commotion
in the other part of the house. He walked in just in time to see George
bite Willie on the end of his nose. George said later that he was damned
tired of the "little sucker" bitin' him all the time, so he bit
him back. George and Willie were nearly inseparable after that...go figure.
The Whippets were in the truck and were exchanging amenities with the Greys.
Clearly Jack would be the Alpha dog on this hunt, but Bill had no doubts
that Willie would give him trouble before the night was over. He closed
the tailgate, but nothing short of dynamite or a hare would get the hounds
out of the truck now. Bill looked back toward the house and saw Sue standing
on the porch watching the proceedings. "Hey Sis, you wanna go with
us tonight?"
Sue shook her head no and then said, "No thanks guys, but I've got
some dinner laid out in here if you can tear yourselves away from the dogs
for a few minutes."
Sue hadn't even finished speaking and Bill could barely see her through
the cloud of dust George was raising in his rush to get to the table. George
had never met a meal he didn't like. Bill told the four hounds to stay put.
They looked at him in a unified show of disappointment that they would have
to wait to run.
The meal was almost beyond description; veal topped with artichoke hearts
stuffed with crab meat, and all of it doused with an absolutely unbelievable
sauce made of mushrooms and capers...Sue had really gotten into gourmet
cooking when she moved home after the divorce. Not that it bothered them,
but Bill and George didn't even know what they were eating most of the time
anymore. As they finished up they heard David and Carlos out by the porch.
"Go on you two...get going. I'll clean it up tonight," Sue said,
"You can get all the dishes tomorrow. The ice chest is filled with
Cokes and Dr. Pepper. It's by the back door...Ya'll have fun and be careful."
Bill looked over at Sue, "Thanks Sis...I love ya...I really do. We'll
be careful. I'll see ya in the mornin'."
Sue walked over to Bill and kissed him on the cheek, "I love you too
little brother."
George already had the ice chest in the truck and Carlos and his brother
David were in the bed with the hounds. Carlos was around 25 years-old and
worked as an x-ray technician at the local hospital. David was your typical
testosterone fueled 15 year-old. Carlos was a solid citizen and a heck of
a nice person. He was the first in his family to graduate from college and
had more than his share of maturity. David, on the other hand, had left
his maturity in escrow with someone else.
Two years earlier they'd been after coyotes and had two very aggressive
Borzoi in the truck. Bill had stopped on the way out to the fields to buy
a few sodas and fill up the gas tanks. He and Carlos had gone inside the
Quick Stop and had left David with the Wolfhounds. While they were in the
store, a redneck yahoo had pulled in with his Dobermans hanging out the
windows of his car. When he got out, he just let his dogs come over to the
truck and start harassing the Borzoi. After hurling what, David claimed,
were countless mortal insults, he challenged the kid to "Let those
skinny mutts loose so his Dobes could take care of them." Well, of
course, David accommodated him and by the time Bill and Carlos got outside,
one Dobe was dead and the other had taken off for parts unknown. Bill was
certain he'd be sued but Mr. Redneck turned out to be a drug dealer whose
personal standards of machismo, and inherent dislike for courtrooms, forced
him to behave like a stand-up guy. Bill never saw him again but David became
a regular. The older folks, however, had learned to keep him on a very short
leash.
"Hola Amigos," Bill reached out for Carlos' hand, "Ya'll
ready to run some jacks?"
"Right now pendejo...bring'em on," spouted David.
Carlos instantly cuffed him across the back of his head, "Watch your
mouth David. Show some respect."
"Sorry Bill," David tried his best to look remorseful...No one
was buying it tonight, "I'll be cool, no problemo cuz."
Bill checked the equipment and the hounds one last time, waved good-bye
to Sue and climbed in the driver's seat. George was already in his seat.
In the rearview mirror Bill could see Carlos holding Jack and Queenie's
leads with his right hand and the back of David's neck with his left. Bill
and George looked at each other and grinned. Fifteen years ago that had
been them in the back of the truck. Time and many things had come full-circle
for both of them.
"Your ticket Ma'am. May I please see your ticket?," the conductor
asked.
Sue stirred and, in a few seconds, was awake enough to reach in her bag
and retrieve the ticket, "Here it is Sir...How much longer to Laredo?"
The conductor checked the pass and handed it back to Sue, "Around an
hour Ma'am...not too much more'n that anyway. They'll meet you at the station.
The railroad always notifies the proper folks for things like this...You
needn't worry about a thing Ma'am.
Sue thanked him and turned back toward the window and the brush country
beyond it. She loved this place in spite of its rough and arid complexion.
There was an eternal beauty in the mixture of mesquite, cactus, and scrub
oak. It could be a very hostile place but only for those that didn't understand
it and, of course, for those who foolishly rushed in to try to change it.
As she stared into the distance, the rocking motion began to take her again
and the dreams and Bill returned...
Bill turned the key in the ignition and the twenty-year-old motor came to
life. He could afford a newer truck, but that wasn't the point. The faded
and dented Ford had a personality of its own. He didn't consider it expendable.
Trading it off would have been like selling a friend. "She's still
got a little life left in her," he said. George nodded in agreement.
Bill put the truck in gear, engaged the clutch, and they were on their way.
"I was thinkin' about headin' up old 83 to Pipeline Road 'n then takin'
it North to 490...That'd be 'round 20 miles of dirt road, no traffic, and
a mile'a open country on each side of us. What do ya think?," George
asked, "Ought'a be lots'a jacks and maybe even a few 'yotes if ya wanna
give Jack'n Queenie a run on one."
George was beaming...as close to beaming as it was possible for George to
get. He was past sixty now and all the years of hard liquor, chewing tobacco,
fast dogs, and even faster women were truly beginning to catch up with him.
Bill loved him like the Father he'd never really known. He wasn't well educated
and had no social graces, but George was the most genuine human being Bill
had ever encountered. He could not have loved him anymore if he were his
own flesh and bone...Bill knew that it worked both ways.
When they reached Pipeline Road, they turned North and traveled about a
mile up the caliche before Bill pulled the truck over. "Alright, piss
break folks...Bleed the brakes guys. Next stop is after the first run. Let'em
off the slips so they can warm up a bit."
David and Carlos released the hounds. The four dogs instantly mounted the
rubber panels on the bed and launched themselves over the side. They sprinted
full-speed for around 100 yards before they realized that there was nothing
to chase. George set up the lights and tested them once again. The Sun had
almost disappeared below the horizon. As the hounds made their way back
to the truck in wide looping circles, the final rays of light blinked out
and the dusk quickly slipped into night.
"Load'em up Carlos. Get'em on the slips and you and David get set with
the lights and we'll get goin," Bill climbed in the cab and looked
back at the bed, "Everybody ready?" The slap of hands on the truck's
roof meant yes.
The tightly focused beams of lights played over the fields on both sides
of the road. All of the sorghum had been harvested and only the stubby remnants
of the stalks remained in the crop rows. A lot of the grain would have been
shed during the cutting process and these tasty morsels would lure in many
hares from the brushy areas outside the tilled land. The Greyhounds would
be slipped first. A good hard chase would take some of the spunk out of
them. As hard as the Whippets were to control, they were still far easier
than a pair of large and very fresh Coldbloods.
They had traveled less than a quarter mile further when Bill heard David
cry out "Rabbit!" He saw both lights swing over to the left side
of the truck. In the sorghum, maybe 150 yards out, Bill could see the hare
moving away from them down a furrow. He wheeled the truck over hard to his
left, slammed through the bar-ditch, and began to accelerate into the field.
After about 50 yards, he began to slow down and then yelled to Carlos, "Let'em
go!" The lights had now swung back over the front of the truck and
were trained on, and ahead of, the hare's position. As he oriented himself
to where they were, Bill caught a glimpse of Jack and Queenie flashing past
him toward the hare. He pressed the pedal to the floor, wound up the engine,
and quickly shifted into second gear. They were doing around 35 mph at about
100 yards behind the hounds. The Greys were pulling away from them and the
hare was pulling away from the dogs.
After a half mile or so things began to slow a bit. The hare jumped a few
furrows to his right in an effort to shake his pursuers. This gave the Greys
the opportunity they needed. Jack put on a spectacular burst of speed and
pulled even with the hare while Queenie began to hedge to the right. The
fence line and the brush beyond it loomed ahead giving the dogs less than
200 yards to turn the hare or this chase would be over. Jack began crossing
rows toward the hare. Sensing the pressure, the hare turned, in a spectacular
180 degree flip, back toward the truck.
Bill slammed on the brakes, "Hang on...He's comin' back!" The
hare ran directly at the truck. A few yards out he began moving to the North
and obliquely away from the vehicle. The lights and the Greyhounds followed.
As Bill began to start the truck moving again, he could see Queenie traversing
rows in a last ditch effort to cut off the hare's escape. She gradually
began forcing him toward Jack. In another 100 yards Jack lit up his afterburners
and made a phenomenal lunge forward followed by a diving catch. The truck
slid to a halt beside the two Greys and their quarry.
"Yes sir!," George exclaimed, "That's how it ought to be
done...But son you drive like old people screw...Kind'a loose'n sloppy...Know
what I mean?" Laughing under his breath, the grizzled old man climbed
out of the truck and began hugging and petting the hounds. His love for
the dogs was apparent even while he was busy complaining about Bill's driving.
Willie and the Spook were standing on the roof of the truck barking their
approval of the Greyhound's efforts. Willie kept hopping from the roof to
the bed and back again...Which is Whippet body language for, "Hurry
up!" David had all he could do to keep them in the truck, "These
are some damned crazy dogs you got here Bill."
Carlos had Jack and Queenie back on their slips and George had already sacked
the hare. Bill climbed back in the cab, "David are you ready with the
little guys?."
"You bet mi Patron, let's do it," David leaned hard against the
side of the bed as the Whippets struggled with their leads. Keeping them
on the slips till the next hare appeared was going to be a challenge. The
lights began playing across the fields again as the truck slowly moved North
up Pipeline Road. "A grove comin' up on the right Patron. We're gonna
put both lights on it," David moved alongside his older brother. "Hey
Bro, whas shakin over here?"
"Only your mouth little brother, only your mouth." Carlos threw
his head back and laughed. David was David and there was nothing to be done
about it. Carlos knew that time would do the job of changing him and that
would happen all too soon, "Why don't you try slowin' it down a bit
and pay attention to the grove and the dogs...Rabbit, rabbit Bill! Three
rows down and up ahead of us...over there. He's movin'...I'm gonna let'em
go."
Willie and the Spook shot over the side of the bed like a pair of air to
ground missiles. Bill started moving the truck forward to the Northern end
of the citrus grove. Carlos and David played the powerful beams of light
across the trees. The light reflected off the shiny green leaves and spread
itself as a gentle glow throughout the orchard. "I've got'em!,"
David shouted, "They're headed North with him...Speed it up Patron.
We can pick'em up when they break out of the tree line."
Only the Whippets could run in these conditions. All of the other hounds,
even the Greys, were just too large to navigate around the trees with enough
speed and agility to keep pace with a jack in full flight. Willie was the
undisputed king of the trees. His reckless abandon and commitment to the
work made him perfect for the task. Bill glanced over and caught sight of
the two hounds racing North hot on the trail of the hare. He floored the
accelerator as they neared the end of the last row of trees. The truck was
moving at close to 60 miles an hour as they left the grove. They were ahead
of the hounds and the hare. Bill began to slow down as Carlos and David
continued to work the lights over the trees.
"If he don't cut back, we got him," George said, "They were
right on his ass when we passed'em 'bout 100 yards back...Yes sir Bill,
hot shit that Willie ain't he?"
"Here they come Patron!" David had the light on the hare and the
Whippets were pressing him hard, "They've almost got him...Go Willie!
Run you little fart."
The hare moved into the field and the Whippets began to close the gap. The
Spook started hedging to the outside while Willie pressed for the catch.
Bill began to move the truck in an effort to stay parallel with the chase.
He shifted up and the engine died. The electrical system shut down and the
lights went black. This jack would live to run another day.
Saved by a loose battery cable...stranger things had happened. Bill closed
the hood and looked at his hounds and his friends. He was a lucky man and
he knew it. This was the perfect moment for Bill. His favorite hounds and
his closest friends sharing a cool breeze and a quiet moment in the South
Texas night...If his life could be distilled into a single instant, this
would be his choice...He'd share this with Sue in the morning.
The train began to slow and Sue knew that the time for reflection was over.
She saw the station coming up and there, waiting for her, was David. No
longer a wild teenage boy, but a grown man. David had followed Carlos' lead
and had gone to the university and now was about to graduate from medical
school. She was very proud of him...as proud as Bill had been. Bill had
never married and David was as close to a child as he'd ever had. When she
stepped down from the train car he was there to greet her.
"Hey Sue, are you doin' okay?," he asked.
"Bill died on a mountain, David. That's what he always wanted...to
go out doing something he loved," she said, "I know that's only
cold comfort right now but I think it may help me get through this. Maybe
in the long run I can find some peace in it."
"Is that the Patron over there?," David pointed to the simple
wooden coffin on the freight dock, "I brought the old Ford truck. I
got it out of the machine shed. It hadn't been run in years. I hate to make
you ride in it, but I thought the Patron would like it."
"That's nice David, really sweet," she said, "Is everything
else ready?"
"Yeah it is Sue. You know my Momma thinks this is pretty weird. Carlos
tried to explain it to her. I don't know if he got through to her or not.
You need to be ready to deal with it. She won't be there now, but she'll
be over to see you later," David looked at her, "It'll be okay."
The trip to the ranch was completed in silence. David and Sue exchanged
looks and glances, but neither one really knew what to say to the other.
As they drove up to the mesquite trees behind the main house Sue could see
Carlos and George waiting for them. Sue could also see that they'd been
crying. David stopped the truck. She hugged Carlos and kissed him on the
cheek and then she lied and told him that everything would be alright...She
looked at George and he wept openly while she held him.
She looked out across the brush and the fields and all of the memories came
rushing back just as they had on the train. Bill really did know himself
better than most. This place was where he belonged. Not just among strangers
in a strange place. Resting here was the right thing for him. She looked
at the empty grave and then on either side of it. Now she knew the dream
had been more than a dream. On the left were two very small memorials that
read "Texas Jack" and the "Panhandle Queen." On the
right there were two even smaller markers that read "Willie" and
the "Spook."