JIMMY SWANN

#48 - Room With A View - As the Border Patrol Agent got out of his car, he asked Jimmy, “You got an ID?”

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#1, #2, #3, #4 

As the Border Patrol Agent got out of his car, he asked Jimmy, “You got an ID?”  

“Yes, I do,” Jimmy answered as the radio in the vehicle came to life. The officer reached back in the cab for the receiver. 

Jimmy couldn’t make out the conversation, but the agent got back in his pickup in a hurry, started it up and called out as he drove away, “Walk on the side of the road facing the traffic!” 

Jimmy gave him a “thumbs up” and watched as the officer sped off down the highway. 

Jimmy started walking. The stroller pushed easy. Only a few cars passed by on the road.  

It felt like the heat of the day had broken, but after more than an hour, He was feeling the effects of the last couple of days. He needed rest. Some good sleep.

He figured he had made at least a couple of miles, maybe more, and started looking for a suitable place to hunker down for the night.

He passed a good-looking smooth bottomed dry wash. It might do. There was no rain in sight. Upon looking it over, he found a suitable spot in the wash just around a bend about twenty yards from the road. He could set up camp and be unseen from the road. 

Though cactus wouldn’t be a concern, ever on his mind he looked out for snakes and scorpions. He acknowledged to himself he was paranoid about them. 

By sunset, Jimmy had set up his tent and was boiling water for his evening meal - a stew made up of sausages, noodles, lettuce, onions, and potatoes. He ate his bananas. They were getting ripe fast.  

He had forgotten to get any condiments, but the meal went down like a feast. He was famished. 

Most of his ice had melted and he drank a lot of cold water. By tomorrow noon he would only have the five gallons of water left. It would be hot, but it would be enough. 

After cleaning up and stowing away his cooking gear, he was ready to call it a day. He was just about spent, but he also felt better than he had in many a day. 

He thought he might just rest up on the morrow. Rig up his tarps for some shade – and just rest. 

The new moon ducked behind Kitt Peak Mountain as darkness arrived with its showcase of stars. A cool breeze came up the wash. Jimmy got into his tent, closed his eyes and was out like a light. 

** 

Morning came much too soon. Upon getting out of the tent, he was greeted with overcast skies. It looked like it could even rain at some point. It would be a cooler day.  

It would be best to get in some miles. He figured maybe eight more miles at most to the turnoff to Caballo Loco. Four or five hours at his walking speed. 

While coffee water was in the making, he broke camp and packed up. In short order he finished his coffee and was wheeling the stroller to the highway. 

Before reaching the highway, two Border Patrol vehicles sped by, red lights flashing. He couldn’t tell if they saw him, or if it mattered. They were in a hurry.  

Back at the store yesterday, he heard a couple of men talking about how the illegal immigrant activity was up in the area. The town of Sasabe, on the border forty miles south, was a new hot spot for entry. The Border Patrol had succeeded in closing off the Nogales area border to the east of Sasabe.  

There was a coordinated effort between those who brought the illegals in, and those who would shuffle them to other parts of the state and beyond. 

Robles Junction was the next town up the road. 

It was 7:00 am. And cool. Jimmy thought he could make the turnoff by noon if he didn’t tire out. It would be a good hike even without the stroller. It had been a long time since he’d covered that distance in one hike.  

He ate one of the apples and finished off the last of his cooler water. He was good to go. Already he could feel the stroller was lighter in weight. 

There was little traffic. Border Patrol vehicles, coming and going, outnumbered the rest. Jimmy expected one of them to pull over and check him out, but they hadn’t yet. 

Nearing 10:00 am, he was getting tired. The overcast had gathered itself into rainclouds and it started to rain lightly. Welcoming a break, he pulled over into the cactus, and pulled out a tarp and his camp chair. Draping it over the stroller and himself, he snacked on some trail mix as the rain commenced in earnest.  

He relished the rest break and his front row seat in the desert rain. 

Maybe half an hour's rain and not a gully washer. There was no runoff. The earth smelled sweet. The air was fresh, but now humid. To the south and west the clouds were beginning to clear.  

On the road again he pushed the pace wanting to cover as much distance as he could before clouds disappeared and the sun brought out the heat of the day. 

Just after noon and well up the road was a sign on a tall pole. Upon reaching the sign, it was the turnoff for the Caballo Loco Ranch, eight miles ahead. 

The road changed from asphalt to washboard rock and dirt. Jimmy slowed his pace and went easy through the gravel that would challenge his tires. 

Pleased that he had made good time, and that he was off the highway with its Border Patrol, he now wanted to find a spot to hold up for the rest of the day. 

The terrain was changing. It rose into low rolling hills. Among the different species of cactus was a grass-like cactus low on the ground and spread out in broad patches. 

From the road, he wheeled his way through to a rise that looked over the desert to the north.  

A white pickup came down the road toward the highway. It was moving at a good speed over the washboard road streaming a long trail of dust behind it. Jimmy reflexively stepped down over the rise and sat down in the shade of a Saguaro. 

He spotted a structure on a flat above a wash that ran through the small canyon. Maybe he could stay there for the night.  

It took more time than he would have thought, weaving through the cactus, but he made it to an old adobe brick building of some sort. Perhaps it was once a house. He wasn’t sure, there wasn’t much left. It was missing most of its walls. Then he thought, maybe an Indian ruin. These bricks looked like those of ancient ruins he’d seen before. It stood alone and had long since been abandoned. 

It looked good. Jimmy walked around the walls looking for snakes, and once satisfied there were none, he set out to clear an area for his camp. 

He set up his tarps utilizing the main wall that would provide shade from the afternoon sun. Soon, he had a comfortable lean-to that provided sun and wind protection. He set his tent up on the opposite side of the wall to take advantage of the morning sun.  

After setting up camp, Jimmy sat down to take in his view of the desert. It stretched from the slopes of the Sierrita Mountains to the north and east, to Kitt’s Peak in the west. A room with a view. 

He enjoyed his last apple, some more trail mix, and a lot of water.  

He had arrived.

By the time the day was done, Jimmy had eaten the last of his vegetables along with another tin of sausages.  

Evening became night and turned cool, and the Milky Way blanketed the sky. Several passenger jets heading east and west arced across the sky as Jimmy starwatched. The Big and Little Dippers with Polaris shining bright rode low in the sky. 

A long stretch of Highway 286 trailed north and south with occasional head and taillights. Among them was a string of red lights flashing and headed south. 

Then, with another check around his tent for critters, he called it a day. 

** 

He awoke from a dream of screams and howling winds that whirled up the canyon and whistled ‘round the camp.  

But it wasn’t a dream or the wind. It was urgent calls of distress. Clearly audible but somehow muffled. Jimmy got up and out of his tent in a hurry and looked out over the desert.

Where were the calls coming from?? They drifted over the rise from the direction of the highway. He guessed it was an accident. But there were many voices. It was strange. He couldn’t let it be. He had to check it out. 

In the predawn cold darkness Jimmy started out through the cactus for the road back to the highway. 

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