El Paso Way (16 page)

To Enrique it sounded like a strange fantasy, but he'd seen it going on in Tucson, which was enough for him to believe it. “This money, how will we get it?”

“You find yourself a trade, Enrique. Something that you enjoy doing. Something that you're good at.”

“I'm not sure what I would do. All I've ever been good at is hunting and living off the land.”

“You can read and write, can't you?”

“Yes. Father Gaeta educated me well.”

“That's a hell lot more than I have. You're a good fighter. Good with a bow and arrow. You can throw a knife. You might just make a good lawman.”

Enrique shook his head. “I know a little about politics, and that is something I would not like.”

Dutton laughed. “You got me there. That is definitely the fly in the buttermilk. Always something getting in the way of doing your job the right way, or even enjoying it at all.”

They rode for a little while in silence, pondering all that had been shared.

“This way of life that you say is coming,” Enrique said, “I'm not sure I want it.”

“Don't think you'll have much choice, pardner. I suppose you could go live in the hills and fend for yourself, but what kind of life is that?”

Enrique nodded. “It may be the life for me. I'm not sure.”

“Then I suppose you have a lot to think about.”

“Yes,” he said.
And more than I'd like right now
, he thought.

Paso Del Norte

The three riders pushed the horses as much as they could. Dutton, the better and more experienced rider, knew exactly when to give the animals a rest. He'd look for lather around the rigging strap and watch carefully for rocks and cactuses along the trail that might lame a horse.

Whenever he suggested a break, Enrique went along with his advice, fully trusting the sheriff's expertise in the matter. Pang, however, never hesitated to question his decision.

“We should keep going,” Pang said. “The more we stop, the farther Valdar gets away from us.”

Dutton looked at the Chinaman under the shade of his hat brim. “You push these horses too much and you'll be walking after Valdar. Just how much quicker you think you'd gain on him then?”

As always when they stopped, Pang gazed off into the distance, then frustratingly got down and handed the sheriff his reins.

Dutton took them hesitantly. “One of these days I'm going to have to teach you how to tear down your own horse.”

Pang just kept walking.

Enrique stood next to Dutton and watched the Chinaman with him. “He's still fresh in his misery. I'd be the same way.”

“Yeah, I forget about that sometimes,” Dutton said.

They decided to let the horses rest for an hour, then they'd take off again. Meanwhile, Enrique found Pang, his arms around his knees, perched up on a big rock staring down into a lush valley near the base of the Florida Mountains. Enrique felt a desire to console his friend and allow him the opportunity to get his frustration out. He climbed up the rock, sat down beside Pang, and gazed out to the valley that he knew was just a haze among all of the Chinaman's thoughts.

“I love this country,” Enrique said. “The sheriff tells me that its natural state is facing its doom.”

“We are all doomed to something,” Pang said. “The good times fade to memories, and life never seems to be as good as it once was.”

Though Pang was likely feeling philosophical, Enrique could sense the Chinaman's self-pity. “Not long after my parents were killed, Father Gaeta told me that I had to stop living for tomorrow and live for today. It took me a while to understand what he meant, but eventually it came to me. I lived every day as though it was a step to the moment I sought my revenge against Valdar. I didn't realize I was missing out on an important learning time. A time of preparation. Important time when learning to become a man. The priest instilled in me how living one day at a time required a daily routine of appreciating what God had given me. The sunrise and the morning air. The birds and how they sang. The food in front of me, and how to chew and taste each bite as if it was all I would eat the entire day, or not knowing whether or not it'd be my last meal. From this thinking came patience, and faith.”

Pang turned and looked at him. “But now you are going after Valdar. How can you think of anything else?”

“It is the purpose of each day, yes . . . to get a little closer to him. But I still stop and admire what God has given me. Such as you and
Señor
Dutton. Together we are much stronger.”

Pang broke a slight smile. “You talk a lot like my father did. He was always trying to get me to breathe more, think less. He liked to call me a grasshopper.” He breathed in and out deeply. “You are wise like him.”

“I am only wise to the teachings of Father Gaeta, and what I've learned through reading the Scriptures and other books.”

Pang nodded. “I think it is no chance that we met in the desert. I think it was destiny.”

Enrique laughed. “I knew that the minute you first said Valdar's name,
amigo
. I try not to be overconfident in our purpose, and be humble as well, but deep in my heart I believe that together we are the ones who can bring Valdar's evil existence to an end.”

“What about the sheriff?” Pang said. “Why is he with us?”

“It is not hard, once you think about it. Look at all that he has done for us. He has negotiated and used his lawman experience to help us get this far. Who knows what would have happened to us if he hadn't of helped us at the
taberna
, or put his gun to Mulcov's big bald head.”

Pang smiled wider than he had in some time. “I've never tried to handle a man so big before. When I jumped on him, it was like trying to wrestle a bull.”

Enrique laughed. “I knew I was in trouble when you couldn't budge him. Thank God for the sheriff's change of heart.”

“Why do you suppose he didn't want to help us at first?”

“I think it was because he doesn't have our history, or our misery. I think he came to help us because of one reason, and one reason only.”

“What is that?”

“Because we are his friends.”

* * *

To make better time the riders took shorter breaks to rest the horses and rode also during the night. It was an easier decision because of the full moon, which shed just enough light across the landscape to stay on the trails. Dutton led the way and used the stars to navigate, the Big Dipper and the North Star.

Pang wasn't fond of the nocturnal voices of the wilderness, and he shifted nervously in his saddle, frequently asking Enrique to identify the creature that made a particular noise. The crickets and locusts he understood, but the owl he was unfamiliar with and he cared little for the coyote. What made him fidget the most, however, was when he noticed the silhouette of a wing span flutter in front of the moon.

“What was that?” he said.

“The most worrisome creature of the night,” Enrique said. “The blood-sucking bat is attracted to the scent of sweat, and in humans the salt of the neck.”

Pang kept looking up at the moon, and when two more flew across its light, the Chinaman lifted up his collar and hunched his neck.

Enrique laughed. “I'm only joking with you,
amigo
. The bat is after flying insects. It cannot see, but can sense them uniquely. It will not harm you.”

Pang was not amused, and Enrique's admission of the truth had made him no more at ease.

They rode for another hour, and the night sky began to turn from a deep purple to more of a deep blue, and the moon disappeared behind a cloud low in the western sky. The stars still twinkled, but not for long, as daylight fast approached. Dutton figured they were a six-hour ride from El Paso and that this would be a good time to rest and eat.

Enrique decided not to build a fire and supplied jerky and corn tortillas for breakfast. They drank from their canteens and hoped they'd soon find water for their horses. The grain that Benjamin had given them was almost gone as well, but it was enough to last until they reached El Paso.

Little was said while they ate and rested. Their horses stood behind them, reins hanging loose, eyes closed, and one hind leg cocked at the fetlock.

Dutton was the first to finish eating. “Well, boys, I suppose it's time to roam.”

Pang shoved what was left of his jerky to the side of his mouth, as if he had a bulge of tobacco, and turned to his horse. Enrique kept chewing his jerky and fixed a gaze on the coral cloud on the eastern horizon.

“This is the day,” he said. “The day I've dreamed about for so long.”

Dutton tightened the cinch on his saddle. “Don't start drawin' blood yet,
amigo
. Getting to El Paso is one thing. Finding Valdar is another.”

Dutton scolded Pang for jumping in the saddle before checking the cinch. The Chinaman climbed back down and Dutton checked it for him.

“How long do you think it will take us to find him?” Enrique said.

“Depends. We hit the saloons and start asking questions. We may get into some scuffles, and we need to try our best to stay out of jail. I've been thinking that it might be best to talk to the sheriff first. Then again, he may be on Valdar's payroll and botch the whole thing for us.”

“How do you tell?”

“I can usually read it in people. It's not too hard. It's the friendly people I don't trust. The wolf in sheep's clothing, if you know what I mean.”

“I do,” Enrique said, standing, then brushing his hands together.

The three men mounted and rode, and a mile later they kicked their horses to a trot. An hour later they came to some rough, scrubby terrain near the end of a mountain pass. They slowed the horses. Horned toads sunbathed on the rocks, and lizards of many sizes and colors darted into cover.

Another hour passed and they came to a flat, covered with the same sand and scrubby brush that decorated the valleys, only now it looked like an endless sea. Dutton stopped his horse, and the other two rode up on either side of him.

“Another hour,” he said. “El Paso is almost due east at the end of the flat.”

Enrique stared in that direction and took a deep breath.

Pang held the reins up closer to his chest. “I say we make the horses run. Cut the hour in half.”

Dutton shook his head. “
Amigo
, these horses need water. We punch their ribs any more than we have been and they won't last a mile. If we keep our pace, we'll be in El Paso close to nightfall. We all know that Valdar is more active at night, so there's no hurry. If he's already in Mexico, then we need a new plan anyway.”

Neither of the other men argued with the sheriff, and he drew a nod from each of them. He led them into the flat, riding slow, heat bearing down on them like a stove, seeing nothing but sand and scrub, but with each step of their horses they smelled the sweet scent of blood.

* * *

When they came within view of the Rio Grande, the horses smelled the water and moved a little quicker. El Paso and Ciudad Juárez came into sight as well, with many wooden and adobe buildings, and before long they could see people roaming about and smell the smoke and cinder of urban life.

They let the horses drink to relief then led them along the river. A Mexican woman sat on her knees on a sandbar not far down the shore and dipped a piece of clothing into the river then scrubbed it on a rock. Before long she saw them and stopped her work and watched them cross.

Enrique looked back for signs of Sereno, but was sure he was far from town. He stayed away from cities. Just as in the days when he and Father Gaeta traveled to Tucson, Sereno would stay on the outskirts and surface again somewhere on the trail.

After they crossed the ford, they mounted their horses and rode into a street. Anxiety loomed throughout Enrique as the reality of where he was set in like an anticipated storm. The street was dusty, and dust made a film on everything around them. At times dust devils whirled and a tumbleweed made its way across the street and lodged against a building. Often they'd pass a hitching rack and a water trough, and it required a little effort to keep their horses from venturing off course to take a drink.

They passed a saloon, less like the
taberna
in Hachita and more like the one in Tucson; wood-sided with pane windows and a batwing door. Dutton made a steady acknowledgment of the place, but kept on riding. Eventually they came to a cross street and Dutton stopped. He looked in both directions, right then left, then kept his gaze on the left and turned his horse in that direction. For a while they rode dead center down the street, passing very few pedestrians or other riders, and then Dutton merged to the right and stopped at another hitching rack. That's when Enrique noticed the iron bars on the windows.

Dutton dismounted and tied his horse. “Pang, you're pretty good at keeping a watch on things. Enrique and I will go in and have us a chat with the sheriff here. We shouldn't be long.”

Pang stepped down and held on to the reins of his horse while Enrique tied his and followed Dutton inside. When they got inside, they saw the badged lawman standing, looking out the window and sipping a cup of coffee. His head was hatless but creased where a hat had been, and his hair was dark, parted, and slick with oil. When he turned to look at them, his eyes were gray but gentle and the skin around them creased like spiderwebs. He sported a thick brown mustache that covered his lips and dripped coffee, which he licked off before drying the 'stache with a finger and thumb.

Dutton nodded a greeting.

The lawman nodded back then looked back outside. “Why is it,” he said, “that whenever I see a Chinaman I sense trouble?”

Enrique wondered about Dutton's impression of the man, and whether or not he thought the lawman would help them.

The lawman turned and set his coffee cup on a desk, then sat in a chair behind it. He put his elbows on his desk, rubbed his eyes, then exhaled loudly. “It's Valdar, isn't it?”

Dutton and Enrique exchanged glances.

“That's right,” Dutton said. “We've tracked him here. Do you know where we might find him?”

The lawman pinched his lips and looked out the window again. “You know, I took this job to protect the good citizens of El Paso. But I've had a problem doing that, mostly because of the riffraff that blows in here like grains of desert sand. I was lured here after a spell as a lawman up in Indian territory. I had no idea what I was getting into, and the ones that lured me here knew exactly what I was going to face. But one thing they knew about me was that I was hardheaded and honest. They knew I wouldn't quit if it killed me.”