Jimmy Swann

#52 - Visitors

Thank you, My Dear Subscribers! You make my heart sing. 

For my newer Subs, here is an earlier post -  

This week’s song – “Two Hearts Fly” – from my CD Round Pegs & Square Holes  

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#1, #2, #3, #4, #5                       

Jimmy Swann #6 - Visitors 

Jimmy wove his way through the cactus back to the road. The yells were coming from near the highway, and he could hear them clearly now. 

“Ayuda!” “Por favor!” “Dejanos salir!” “Necesitamos ayuda!” It was a chorus of pleas Jimmy knew added up to cries for help. 

He rounded a curve and there in the road was a trailer. He thought it was a horse, or cattle trailer, but there were no vents or windows. Just solid - box-like. It was maybe a hundred yards from the highway. 

Most certainly illegals, they had been abandoned, or maybe staged for another to pick them up.  

They would be discovered soon by anyone going to or from Caballo Loco. Passersby on the highway would think nothing of the trailer, but maybe the Border Patrol would be on the lookout for such a thing.  

It was nearing dawn. 

Jimmy closed the distance to the trailer. The voices were insistent but not in a weakened state. If not freed, the heat of the day inside the trailer would quickly change that. 

He walked around the trailer. The rear end and door faced the highway. Surprisingly, there wasn’t a lock on the latch. For that he was glad. He wouldn’t have to make a 911 call, or flag down someone on the highway. He would rather just come and go. Unseen, if possible. 

He slipped the latch, and with the sound it made, the yelling ceased. Moments passed as if waiting for something. Then Jimmy quietly and hurriedly made his way for cover back behind the curve in the road. He could hear the trailer door being raised up and looking back as he rounded the curve, he saw the first of the illegals exiting the trailer. He didn’t think he’d been seen.

From his hidden vantage point, he could hear them talking as they gathered outside the trailer. They were a large group, some were women, and a few kids. 

Two of the men headed in the direction of the highway. Jimmy made his way back to his camp. 

* * * 

Enjoying his coffee, and well after sunrise, on the distant highway he saw a contingent of Border Patrol vehicles with red lights flashing making their way south on the highway. He was certain the illegals had been discovered. A short time later began a parade of Border Patrol coming and going on the highway. 

He liked where he was and his camp set-up. Instead of moving on toward Caballo Loco, he decided to stay put awhile. At least for a day to put some time between the illegals discovery and him showing up at the Ranch. He would get up early in the morning and start out, taking advantage of the night’s coolness as far as he could go before stopping for the day’s heat. 

Jimmy checked the weather on his cell. It still had a good connection, but the battery was low. From his pack he got his hand-sized portable solar charger and soon it was doing its job. 

Checking the weather forecast for Tucson, it was forecast that it would be hot for the next few days. No surprise. 

Along with the weather, the page also included a summary of the area news.  

One item read that “Early this morning, a group of illegals were taken into custody south of Robles Junction on Highway 286 at the Caballo Loco Ranch turnoff. They had been abandoned in a trailer that was dropped off on the turnoff road. An interpreter for the group said, ‘Someone had unlatched the trailer door but whoever did it was not seen, and no vehicle was seen or heard’. They hailed a car on the highway, and the driver called 911. There were thirteen men, six women, and four minors. They are being held at the Border Patrol substation in Robles Junction for processing”.  Anyone with any further information please contact law enforcement. 

Jimmy wondered if any of the Border Patrol officers who had seen him the last couple of days would connect him to the event. He’d given no idea of his destination to the officer he spoke with. And so what if he was found out? He didn’t see a need to be further involved. 

* * * 

There was just under four gallons of water remaining. Plenty for the time being. His food though was getting low. Four packages of noodles, one tin of sausages, some bread, and some trail mix. He could make it last. He had plenty coffee. 

Jimmy felt content. Not for his part with the illegals. He just felt light. Healthy in body and soul. As if some burden he couldn’t identify had been lifted. A sense of being free. He breathed deeply the clean air and bathed awhile in the sun’s deep reaching rays.   

The hours passed lost in thought thinking about nothing in particular. He wasn’t hungry.  

He was near enough to the road and could sometimes hear a vehicle pass by. If the wind was right, a cloud of dust wafting overhead would give it away. They were infrequent. 

Faraway, to the northeast along the flanks of the higher mountains, he saw what he took to be an ATV as it made its way. It disappeared around a bend leaving again a trail of dust. Jimmy made a mental note to get a pair of binoculars at the next opportunity. 

After noon, Jimmy took a walk around the area.  

Maybe fifty yards from his camp the terrain dropped steeply down to a wash. It threaded its way up into the higher hills. It would carry a significant waterflow during a storm. It angled down toward the highway. 

In the middle of the wash stood a coyote. It had seen Jimmy and was staring up at him. Moments passed and then it bolted into the brush and cactus and was gone. 

He saw rabbit and deer scat. That meant bobcats and mountain lion were also around. He reflexively looked around behind him. Mountain lions stalk and jump you from behind. 

Heading back to camp he came upon a trash pile of sorts. A garbage dump? Old broken blue and green colored bottles and rusted out tin cans littered the site. The date on the bottom of one bottle piece read 1911. Who knows what it contained. He saw no other foundation or makings of a building. Perhaps the dilapidated walls of what was his camp was the homestead?

Back in camp he cooked up a meal. He saved half of the tin of sausages for the next day.  

He decided to stay another day in camp and leave on the following morning for Caballo Loco. He was down to almost three gallons of water. He would drink perhaps another gallon on the morrow, leaving two gallons of water to get him the rest of the way. He knew water was available at the Ranch. He’d concern himself with food then. 

* *  * 

While cooking up supper, the sun set leaving a deep rosy-pink hue on high clouds that stretched in shards across the sky. Below the clouds at the horizon the waxing new moon set as twilight covered the land.  

A chorus of coyotes began to howl from the direction of the wash. They were answered by another group that sounded behind him from the direction of the road. For a few minutes running it was a raucous din echoing through the evening air. He half expected to see them at any moment but that didn’t happen.  

Then, as quickly as it started, it was quiet and still. 

The air cooled down bordering on a chill. The clouds hid many stars from view but in doing so only created another kind of beauty in the sky. Airliners made their way east and west. 

Then Jimmy felt sleep coming on. He stowed his cooking gear and water, made a last check around the ruins for critters, and hit the hay. 

The sound of activity outside his tent woke him. Animals! Readying himself and his cell flashlight, he quietly unzipped the door netting on his tent and peeked out. Javelina nosed around a few feet in front of him. Tapping on the light, they looked into the beam, their eyes reflecting a wicked yellow-red back at him. They froze in place. He slapped the side of his tent and they scattered. 

Jimmy suppressed a laugh at their panic, zipped up, and fell back asleep. 

*  * * 

Jimmy woke, well rested, to the sun’s warmth on his tent. Upon climbing out of his tent he saw footprints in the dust from the javelina amongst the scattered rock. 

Drinking his morning coffee under the shade of the tarp, he caught sight in the distance of what turned out to be two ravens flying towards him. They flew along the ridge above the wash, angled towards the campsite, circled once, and landed in the skeleton branches of a long-dead Acacia tree barely fifty feet away. 

They settled into an almost musical chattering of low croaks, coos, and clicking sounds. They were courting. Though not superstitious, Jimmy took them as a sign of good luck.

 

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See you next week.