WACO’S LUMMOX
Waddie Greywolf

Chapter 20


Blake talked with the Stamper boys and told them the only reason they were there was because Master Charlie and his ramrod told Master Hoot and Cotton if they were good and cooperating, to allow them to come to the Easter holiday festivities. They were impressed by what the boys accomplished and heard good things about their work on the new slave quarters. Blake expected them to be on their best behavior or their holiday would be canceled immediately. It would be the boys first chance to eat regular food again. Not even Burt would do anything to jeopardize that. They had no idea they might get to play some football, but when the time came the coaches included them. They knew the talent available among the older Stamper boys but were equally interested in seeing what the younger boys could do.

They didn’t know what to think of the four boys who were new to the Goodnight ranch. Gavin and Jerry knew about football and played some with their dads. Their younger lummox brother, Kurg, was almost the same size as Gavin, Waco, and Lucas. He wanted to play, too. The coaches didn’t know what to make of a young half-man half-critter, but the rest of the boys wanted him to play so they included him. Since Lucas’ recovery, and the months he was drinking pure lummox milk, he grew quickly. He was now slightly bigger than his next two older brothers, Zeke and Jeb. The Stamper boys had no idea he was a year younger than Zeke. They thought he was about Sam’s age.

The Stamper boys were in for a bit of culture shock that day. Blake was warned beforehand who would be there and knew there would be more furry men and critters the boys would certainly ask questions about. Their boss warned them they might see some things they weren’t expecting, but they were not to push. He would have a talk with them later in the evening and explain anything they didn’t understand. They certainly were impressed by the hairy men who seemed to come in three sizes, big, large, and huge. They found it amusing a huge horse the boys doted over named ‘Ranger’ was the center of attention and allowed to wander around everywhere with the boys.

Even more impressive was the two dogs ‘Scraps’ and ‘Happy’ who were constantly running up and down the sidelines barking at the boys like they were cheering them on. A couple of the boys swore the male dog could speak to the boys, and on occasion, would be sent into the huddle by one of the coaches to tell one of the quarterbacks to send out a player to be replaced by another. For all the player swapping, there was no question in the coaches’ minds who the two quarterbacks would be. It would be Waco and Lucas. Blake, Bryce, JR, and Little Bear were used to Lucas being their quarterback and Waco’s men were used to him. The Stamper boys were guests so they didn’t object. They were happy just to be included and to get a chance to play.

The boys spent several afternoons teaching Bron, Bronc, and Ts’gan the game of football. The men were bright and picked up the game immediately. When it came time for the Sunday afternoon game, they were ready. There were several younger slaves who wanted to play as well and the coaches were only too happy to have extra men to run in. What they observed that afternoon was nothing short of a miracle as far as talent was concerned. The teams were almost equally divided and fought back and forth, play after play, to gain some yardage against the other. Attempts to run or pass the ball were thwarted by defensive moves by players from both teams.

Finally, Lucas managed to pull a fast one and passed the ball off to Bronc, and the rest of the men, including Lucas, ran interference for him. It just barely worked, but only because Bronc proved to be a consummate athlete and managed to outrun and evade Waco’s men. Years of running silently through the forest to catch small animals or to outrun large predators perfected Bronc and Ts’gan’s running techniques until they were almost untouchable. After the touchdown the coaches’ mouths were hanging open. They couldn’t believe what they saw. They could only look at each other in amazement and shake their heads. Not only did they absolutely have to have Lucas for their school team, they started inquiring about how soon Bronc and his little brother would be enrolled. When asked their last names, Bron looked anxiously at Charlie and Lazarus.  

“They’re relatives of mine, Coach Davis, their last name is Long,” Lazarus told them.    
 
Coach Davis stuck out his hand to shake Bron’s and spoke, “We’d love to have yore’ boys play on our team at school, Mr. Long.”

Bron was pleased his boys made such an impression. Then the coach went to Charlie and asked about his relatives who were staying with him. Charlie already thought about a cover for the boys and spoke with Captain Trong and Commander Fielding. The boys would be his relatives, Gavin and Jerry Goodnight. The coach accepted it and told him they were looking forward to them being on the team. Charlie assured him they would be in school for the fall semester. Waco’s team managed a comeback in the final moments of the game and kicked a field goal. It was good, but Lucas’ team still won. It was the toughest game either Waco or Lucas played. They were exhausted as they hugged each other.

Waco told Lucas his greatest hope was for his brother to come to school and play with him instead of against him. None of the teams Waco and his men faced the year before were nearly as tough as Lucas and his team. The Stamper boys got to play at one time or another in the game. The older boys, Burt, Phil, and Sam got to play the whole game, but when the coaches finally ran in Jeb and Zeke, they discovered two more naturally gifted young athletes. Their cups runneth over. Jeb and Zeke were never much interested in sports until they became slaves. It was about the only exercise and play they got outside of working everyday. Blake didn’t try to overdo with the boys, but he made sure he worked them steady from early morning to dusk. At the end of the day, they were too damn tired to considered mischief or trying to run away. Cotton and Hoot gave Lazarus and Charlie regular updates on the boys' progress. They were generally pleased with the Stamper's acceptance and developing work ethic, but Hoot admitted to some gaps in their training.

“We’re so damned pleased with Blake Tindell’s work with the boys we ain’t pushed the sex thing,” Hoot said.

“I ain’t concerned about it a' tall, Hoot,” Lazarus said and Charlie nodded, “They been busy with their building project. There will be time for that later.”

“Well, we wanted to talk with you about it. It seems some strange things are happening. Three of the boys have developed friendships with one or more of the older cowboy slaves and have sort of started looking up to them as big brothers and mentors. If what we think is happening, is it all right with you if’n we let nature take its course?” Hoot asked.

“Absolutely. Sometimes it’s better to let something like that happen as a natural progression of events rather than forcing them. Are the cowboys the kind of men who will respect the boys and let them come to them?” Lazarus asked concerned.

“Yes, sir. We’ve talked with each one of the men and with your permission we may wanna’ talk with the boys. We’ve told the men we won’t tolerate them forcing the boys, but we don’t see nothing wrong with the cowboys actively courting them. I know to describe it that away sounds weird, but we’ve put it to them, if the boys wanna’ participate they have to go to Blake or us to get approval,” Hoot replied.

“Sounds like a good plan to me. What do you think, Boss?” Lazarus asked Charlie.

“I like the idea. I waited for Blake to come to me. He knew he was gonna’ have to participate sooner or later, but it became his choice. It wasn’t like I took it away from him. He made a choice to give it to me. It can have a long lasting effect and go a long way to acceptance,” Charlie replied.

“I can’t help but be curious which boys are bonding with your other cowboys,” Lazarus said.

“You might be surprised, Ramrod, ” Cotton spoke up, “Jeb, Sam, and Burton.”

“Burt? No!” Charlie exclaimed, then grinned.

“I’ll be damned!” Lazarus exclaimed, “You’re right, I am surprised.”

“Burt’s taken up with one of the older cowboys what’s sort of acting as a mentor and father figure for him. You remember Jimmy Joe Russell, don’t you?” Hoot asked.

“Yeah, he was world champion bull rider three years in a row. Got too rowdy, drank too much, ran through his money, and robbed a bank. He got twenty years. Not enough to make him a lifetime slave. He didn’t have no bullets in the gun he used, or he would a’ gotten more time,” Charlie said.

“He’s one of our best cowboys and a trustee. He come to us and asked about him and Burt bunk’n it in together. Seems like Burt done come right out and asked him if’n he would break him to his saddle. Said he’d rather have a man like Jimmy Joe he admired and trusted teach him rather than have it taken away from him.”

“Humm, maybe there’s hope for old Burt yet,” Lazarus mused, “Hell, yes! You handle it, but you men got the right idea. Tell Jimmy Joe he’s got our blessing. The rest we’ll leave up to you. I couldn’t be happier with you men and Blake’s progress with them boys,” Lazarus encouraged Hoot and Cotton.

“You know after seeing yore’ bio-droids at yore' place today, them boys is gonna’ start put’n two and two together. H’it ain’t gonna’ be long before one of ‘em figures out you’re their owner,” Cotton said.

“‘At’s all right. Master Charlie and I thought about it when we talked about inviting ma’ boys to the party. We knew it might be a possibility. I don’t want ‘em lied to. If’n they press you or Blake about it, tell ‘em the truth. They don’t need a lot of details. Let’s let ‘em work it out for themselves. They will eventually be brought into the fold, but for the time being, they don’t need to know more than we want ‘em to,” Lazarus said.

“We agree. We’ll talk with Blake. We had a feeling you’d feel that away,” Hoot agreed.

* * * * * * *
The ranchers discussed many things over dinner. There were several topics of conversation which weighed heavily on everyone’s minds. First of all, the ranchers were losing cattle at an alarming rate. Charlie lost almost ten percent of his herd and according to his figures, if he lost a few more, he would barely break even for the year. That’s not why ranchers are in business. They raise cattle for profit. A goodly portion of Charlie’s cattle and that of his brother and neighbors were being sold to the government. Beef prices were too high for the common man to afford red meat for his table everyday, but the politicians always had plenty of fresh beef and supplied it to their well paid military as an incentive for young people to join and be loyal to the theocratic regime which had been in power for over four decades.

Charlie smelled a rat, especially after the visit from the government men, but he had no proof. Slowly but surely the neighboring ranchers came to trust Charlie’s ramrod and listened to what he had to say. Charlie asked Lazarus’ opinion in front of Angus, Ranger Gibbons, Sheriff Lassiter, Hoot and Cotton, and several neighbors. The Sheriff invited Chief Tin Penny to come to the Easter party to be with his grandson again. The Chief readily accepted and was having a good time. He was sitting with the men.

Lazarus spoke to them, “I’ve examined dead and mutilated cattle from the surrounding ranches and the patterns are the same, but unfortunately, not every cow taken has been accounted for. Less than two thirds of the missing cows have ever been found. There’s a reason for that, Gentlemen. I’m going to tell you what’s happening, but you must keep a completely open mind and not repeat what I’m about to tell you. If you’re serious about doing something about your situation, you’re going to have to rearrange your thinking. You’re gonna’ have to start thinking outside the box. You can never think about your world and your family’s place in it the same way again. Too many things have changed. There’s forces at play you know nothing about, but you may have long suspected.

"Most of you men have either fallen away from the hard line fundamentalist religion or were never very thrilled with it from the beginning. You have seen the ways they pervert anything to do with honest beliefs. I’m not here to knock anyone’s religion or right to believe anything they want, but one thing is important, fundamentalism is an escapist way of dealing with the greater problems of life. It’s God’s will. Let’s leave it in His hands. You can’t think that way and survive what you will have to face in the coming days. You have to take your fate into your own hands and pray God, or more likely your neighbor, is watching your back.

“Just remember what your dad and mother used to tell you, ‘God helps them what help themselves.’ You can no longer think about what’s best for you. You must start thinking about what’s best for your greater family and community of like minded folks, and for those of you who don’t understand my meaning let me spell it out for you. Your greater family must extend beyond the boundaries of your homes. You have to start thinking about the folks in your community as your greater kin, your friends, and neighbors, even your slaves. What ever’s discussed here, you must keep to yourselves. Do you understand? Do I have your promise?” Lazarus asked.

All the men murmured among themselves, shook their head in agreement, but Angus stood and spoke for them. “Ramrod Long, if you know anything we’d appreciate knowing what you know. We understand we live in times where we have to hide most of our lives from our own government and from those who don’t believe the way we do about things. The ultra-conservative element among our community are becoming increasingly more demanding everyone must conform to their way of thinking and relating to others. We once thought we were being conservative by voting Republican. We thought the Democrats had become too liberal and were giving our hard earned tax dollars away for programs which we didn’t approve.

“They were moderates compared to what we face today. We should a’ listened to our daddies. They was all Roosevelt New Deal Yellow Dog Democrats. We got sold a worthless bill of goods what did nothing but rape our great state and lined the pockets of the wealthy until it got so out of control we ain't got much left. There is no one to stand up for us ranchers. I think we come to the conclusion we must stand together and stand up for ourselves. If you can give us any idea what we’re facing, perhaps we can come up with a solution or a plan to fight against whatever it is what’s robbing us.”     

“You are being robbed by three factions, Gentlemen, two are alien and one is your own government. Have you noticed the government has been buying less and less of your beef in the last couple of years?” Lazarus asked.

The ranchers agreed with him they were down almost a third what they were in beef sales to the government even two years ago.

“Why should they pay for your beef when they can get it for free?” Lazarus tossed his question out and let it lay at their feet for a minute to sink in. There were a couple of murmurs went through the crowd.

“I understand what’s happening, Captain Long,” Chief White Crow Tin Penny spoke up, “I’ve seen it happening on our reservation. We not only lost many cattle, we lost horses, sheep, and goats.”

“I’m sure you know, Chief. Would you like to tell these men what’s going on; what they’re up against?” Lazarus asked.

“Gladly, Captain. Gentlemen, there are two alien factions what are working with your government to rob you of your cattle. First there are the small gray critters with the big slanted eyes you’ve all seen pictured in movies and ads on TV. They become a part of modern folklore or at least that’s what your government wants you to think, they’re just folklore. We’ll they ain’t. They’re real. Them grays ain’t like regular intelligent critters we got on the Earth. Each one represents a part of a greater whole. They’re like a hive mentality. Everyone of them shares a portion of the same knowledge; sort of like insects. Like ants or bees, what one learns and knows, they all know.

“They have developed telepathic means of communication that’s very powerful and can be used to control most of us primates, but for all their advanced technology, even they answer to a higher power. They are a slave race. They do the bidding of masters what are rarely seen on Earth. They are fearsome and loathsome creatures. They are the nightmares of all men’s dreams and have been seen by mankind as demons and servants of the Devil. They are a reptilian race and look like Lizard men. The most amazing thing is, the Earth is their original home. They developed their civilization during the age of the dinosaurs when our ancestors were little more than night-crawling proto-primates.

"They left Earth thousands of years ago, but have kept a close watch over it since then. Because the Earth is so unique in its placement in the universe and its ability to sustain bio-diversity it became a way-station for warriors and travelers from distant galactic conflicts. It became a refueling station for food, chemicals and sometimes a little R&R for travelers. Losing livestock ain’t nothing new. It’s been going on for centuries. It went on before men learned to domesticate cattle and other livestock. My people have stories of seeing buffalo rise up into the sky and disappear, never to be seen again. Same with antelope, big horn sheep, deer, elk, and moose.

“White man came along and destroyed the massive buffalo herds, so alien critters now rely on domestic cattle and sheep. It’s been known among native peoples for centuries. It’s just within the last hundred years of global communication other men have become aware it happens to everyone on our planet. The reptilian race leave their dirty work to their servant race, the grays. The grays steal your cattle and divide it equally between themselves, the reptile race, and your government, but that ain’t the worst part. Should I tell them the rest, Captain Long?” Chief Adam White Crow asked.

“You’re doing fine, Chief. So far you’re bat’n a thousand. I know you know the rest. H’it ain’t pretty, but they need to hear it. They need to know what they’re up against,” Lazarus encouraged the old chief.

“Animal livestock ain’t all they take. They been known to take pets and human livestock, or slaves. The also take freemen, women, and children who are never returned or seen again. They even take young mothers with babies,” Chief Tin Penny paused for a moment, then continued, “Like our livestock, those what ain’t returned are used for alien consumption,” the chief said slowly.

There was a gasp ran through the men. One man, Al Dugan, raised his hand. “I been missing four a’ ma’ cowboys for six months. Them and their ponies is missing. We found one man – we thought was one of our men – what was left of him, in a ravine about a month ago. He weren’t kill’t or eaten by no scavengers. They wouldn’t touch his carcass. He stunk to high heaven, but it was obvious he weren’t decomposing. Ain't no tell’n how long he'd been there, but you could tell he was dropped from a great height. There was no footprints around his carcass. Ever' bone in his body was broken, and his head was crushed. There was no trace of blood on or around his body. We had to burn what was left of him.”
 
Another rancher held up his hand. “Same with me, only one a’ ma’ son's been missing for six months now.”

Three more held up their hands they were missing men. Angus and Bill Birdsall said they were missing a couple of men who were riding night watch on their herd.    

“I get reports every week from folks missing cowboy slaves and pets,” the Sheriff added, “We thought it was runaway slaves at first, but only a couple have been found, and they were dead for sometime. We know the ranchers ain’t killing their slaves. They’re too dang torn up over it, and most of the time, it was a valuable slave they lost. Same with pets. I even lost a couple of horses last week, lost a number of cattle and sheep last year. They even took one a’ ma’ prized bulls,” Sheriff Lassiter said like he was disgusted.

“Is there anything we can do to fight back, Captain?” one of the ranchers asked.

“Yes, a couple of things, but if you consider doing it, you also have to consider the consequences. Do you really want to get yourselves into an all out war with aliens who have a more advanced technology than you, and do you want to have a corrupt, fascist, neo-Nazi, Theocratic dictator-run government coming down on top of you?” Lazarus asked.

“What other option do we have, Captain Long? If we sit by and do nothing, we’ll perish. If we try to boycott selling to the government and take a loss on our beef by selling to the public, they'll pass some outrageous law requiring us to sell to them in the name of national security. They would still be stealing from us. If they have all the money, why are they picking our pockets?”

“Simple, Gentlemen,” replied Chief Tin Penny, “because they can, and they know there ain’t a damn thing you can do about it. Not meaning to beat a dead horse, but maybe you gentlemen can understand how us native Americans felt over the years when the federal government backed the killing of the buffalo herds so our ancestors would starve. They robbed and cheated us out of our lands and heritage. We survived, so will you. I have faith in Captain Long and the good men who have come in the ‘Long-boats.’ They been prophesied by my people for hundreds of years, but we never considered ‘Long’ would be a proper name.”

“The Chief’s right, Men. There are several options you might consider. You can buy ground to air rocket launchers or more simple grenade launchers RPGs. You can keep a watch every night and the first chance you get, blow them son’s a’ bitches out of the sky. Now, to do that, you must first have something to interrupt your thoughts so they can’t scan your minds. I know it sounds weird, but they scan a group of men to see if any of them is thinking about a threat toward them. That’s why they ain’t been caught or confronted before now. How do you shield your thoughts from them? It can easily be done by providing your men with hats lined with an electrostatic absorbing material. If’n they can’t read your mind, they don’t know what you’re up to.”

“Wait a minute. You’re telling us these creatures can read our minds?” asked one of the older ranchers, Sam Eagleston.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Eagleston, that’s exactly what the ramrod is telling you,” confirmed Chief Tin Penny, “Why is that so hard for you to believe? You’re pony’s been doing it for years. Why is it sometimes you could swear he knows what you’re thinking? That’s ‘cause he can,” smiled the Chief. “Many of our young people communicate with each other, their dogs, and ponies. A few even know how to block any critter from tapping their brains if they don’t want ‘em to. My people have been communicating with a rebel faction of the grays for many years. They were the ones what taught us how to protect ourselves from them. If they can’t get into your mind, they can’t control your thoughts or control you. That’s how they take folks against their will.”

“Well said, Chief,” Lazarus agreed, “Once again, the Chief is right, Gentlemen. You can protect yourself and your people against them. There’s an electrostatically negative material I can get for you, but you have to teach your people to make their own linings for their hats. There are several things to consider if you wanna’ fight back. There is much more involved than I can tell you now, but you’re gonna’ need to know everything.”

“If’n they can read a man’s thoughts, what’s to keep them from reading them when they’s in the bunkhouse? Are the men suppose to wear their hats inside as well?” Mr. Eagleston asked.

“Good question, Mr. Eagleston,” Lazarus replied, “Corrugated tin roofs or the new flat interlocking aluminum panels will do the trick. You can easily put a metallic roof over a composition roof. It also adds a reflective value to keep the building cooler in the summertime. You have to make sure the roof is completely grounded with a heavy wire run from the metal roof to a four foot piece of re-bar or a galvanized piece of water pipe of the same length hammered into the ground at each end of the building. Any electrical activity inside the building including brain waves will go directly into the Earth and not off into space.”

“What about our ponies?” asked Hoot Austin.

“Your ponies are a crafty lot, as you well know. Most have learned to block the gray critters thoughts; besides, the grays look down upon horses as little more than cattle. Because they work with us they consider them beneath probing most of the time. You won’t find as many horses taken as you will cattle and the reason is, most of the time the grays can’t locate them. They’ve learned to give them critters the slip. Gentlemen, some of the things you learn over the coming days and weeks are gonna’ seem weird, strange, or too downright bizarre to be believed. That’s what your current government wants you to think, so you will be in the dark and unable to defend yourself from them or the creatures with whom they’re in cahoots. Like Mr. Eagleston here, many of you are gonna’ have a hard time believing until you have it lain at yore’ feet. As time goes by, and we learn who we can trust and who we can’t, more will be revealed to you. We’ll get into the whys, wherefores, and who's later. Right now, let’s consider how to protect yourself, your families, your friends, and your property.

"If you should take out a spaceship of the grays – by that, I mean shoot it out of the sky – there might be several possible outcomes. We must consider all of them. Since your government doesn’t want to admit there are such things as aliens and insist there ain't no such thing as UFOs, if you take one out and dispose of it immediately, there’s not a lot they can do. They will be operating under their usual confused ignorance. Why are they ignorant? Because the grays and the reptoids only allow them to know so much and nothing more. Unless it’s reported to them by the grays they won’t have any way of knowing, and communication with them is not an everyday thing.

"Other than satellite images which can be easily blocked, there ain't no way your government will know. What’s the government gonna’ do if you take one out; come down on top of you demanding to know what you did with the alien spacecraft? What alien space craft? They been denying their existence for years, now they wanna’ know what you did with a spacecraft what was stealing your cows? I don’t think so. You can laugh them off your property. Get the media out to cover them. If you can’t, secretly video them and their actions and release it to the media later, or better yet, get your kids to post it on the Internet. They will come off looking like fools, and they know it.  

"There's several options for dealing with the grays. First, you could buy surplus weapons on the black market. You know there’s a thriving trade in illegal weapons of all kinds. If you got the money you can buy anything. So that’s one option. The only problem with it is, you have to be accurate, but with the newer RPGs and heat sensing rocket launched missiles, there’s very little chance of missing. Secondly, you can rig cows with plastic explosives with a remote detonator or even a more sophisticated altitude sensing detonator. As soon as a cow is in their bay, and the ship takes off, if it flies above a certain altitude, blam! The bomb goes off, the cow and ship are destroyed. The only problem with that is, you have to arm a lot of cows.

“The third option is more subtle but lethal. We inject the cows with a virus that only affects the grays and the reptile race. The drawback is, they won’t know exactly who or where they got infected and may return to your area again. Also you won’t have a clear idea of your success ratio. The first option is probably your best bet, because once they’re missing a ship known to be in your area last before it went missing, they’ll think twice before sending another ship to help themselves to your cows. Just remember, the main goal is to completely destroy or eliminate any trace of their ship once you shoot it down. I may be able to help with that. I have access to some toys your government don't know nothing about," Lazarus concluded.  

“Do you have one what will bring down their ships?” Angus asked.

“Yes, sir, I do. They ain’t complicated to operate. The average man can handle one. They cancel out the ship’s anti-gravity, and they crash. The only problem with the device is, it must be used with care or it will cause a great implosion of matter for a large diameter around the ship. It will create a mini-black hole what will suck everything into it which ain’t nailed down for a large area, and whatever it sucks in simply disappears; it won’t exist no more. To use the weapon is sort of a double-edged sword. While it takes care of the disposal of the aliens and the ship, you might lose more than the one cow. Hell, you could potentially lose half yore’ ranch. It would be better to bring the ship down by an explosion and then dispose of it by other means.”

“Then, I take it you have other ‘toys’ in your arsenal which will make short work of disposing of what’s left of a ship and bodies after it falls to the Earth,” Charlie said.
 
“Yes, sir, Boss. There won’t be a trace of it left. Nothing for the government to find or the aliens to come looking for,” Lazarus confirmed.

“Sweet!” Sheriff Lassiter exclaimed. The other men laughed nervously. If the Sheriff of the county was in on it, they considered they had little to fear from local law enforcement, after all, Don Lassiter had as much to lose as the rest of the ranchers.

“I also have a fleet of other small recon ships on board my ship what can make quick work of the grays' inferior crafts. They are invisible to radar or infrared detection and can’t be detected by any of the gray or reptiod’s technology. We can take out the alien craft and dispose of them neatly enough, but before I get involved I want you men to make an effort to defend yourselves. If I just hand it to you, you won’t appreciate the fact we’re in this together. It will make any man who participates think twice before snitching to the government what we’re doing. In effect we will become a resistance and even though our government does a clandestine business with them, it could be considered treasonous,” Lazarus warned seriously.

“What is the ultimate goal of the aliens, Ramrod? If’n they’s so powerful and technologically advanced, why don’t they just come down and take over?” a tall, lanky rancher Stan Brown asked. Chief Tin Penny started laughing. Lazarus and Charlie laughed with him.

“They already have,” Lazarus said laughing at the Chief, “you jes’ don’t realize it, but you will very soon.”

“I got me a question,” Cotton raised his hand. Cotton was always the pragmatist.

“Shoot, Son,” Lazarus acknowledged him.

“Say we do use this telepathy canceling material in our hats, ain’t them critters gonna’ git suspicious when they ain’t able to read no minds?” he asked.

“Good question, Son. While they’re technologically advanced, they have some limitations. They have a difficult time thinking in the abstract. Sort of like an animal who gets caught in a trap because he went after food what was left inside. He don’t look at the metal box and think it’s a trap. His only interest is to satisfy his hunger with a nice morsel of food. So it is with them, or at least the first time. So we need for them to be able to read a few minds to throw them off. You men are fortunate. For some unknown reason, your children are developing mental powers never before seen in any sentient race before. We ain’t real sure what’s causing it, but we have our suspicions. Anyone ever heard of species adaptation and survival of the fittest?" Lazarus asked. A few of the ranchers nodded their heads.

"Your young people just may be your greatest hope for your immediate salvation. Living among you are a number of young’uns what communicate telepathically with each other and their pets. Some of you already know about them, others have kept it hidden from you because they’re afraid to appear different. They’re learning to block mental tapping from folks they don’t want touching their thoughts and can allow only selective thoughts to be probed. They can’t be controlled by the grays or the reptilians. They are unique in one aspect, but not in another. Animals and certain races of people, like Native Americans, have been able to do it for centuries. We’re just now catching up. Lemme’ see a show of hands. How many of you have suspected for sometime one or more of your kids has some abilities they ain’t letting you know about?” Every rancher there slowly raised their hands. “I thought so. Gentlemen, it’s time you had a good heart to heart talk with your kids. They just may save yore’ butts,” Lazarus concluded.
   
The meeting broke up. There were a couple of things agreed upon. Angus asked when Lazarus would address the entire community of concerned folks about what was taking place. “Not for sometime, Angus,” Lazarus responded, “Right now, we’re on a need to know basis. The more folks we bring into our greater family the easier it’s gonna’ be to convince other folks, but a number of things have to happen first. We also have to pick and choose those who we will be forthright with. Can you imagine what the ultra-conservative loonies would do if they found out we were including another species into our families when they’re sure they’re God’s only chosen people? No species or group of people has the right to make such a claim. Any man who even entertains such a stupid proposition has a greater agenda. He’s not a fool for telling someone such an absurdity, he only becomes a fool if he believes it. Any man who buys into such arrogant, ignorant hubris ain’t worthy of salvation. There are so many sentient species out there in the universe, it would make them folks pale to know they weren’t the only ones. We will know when the time is right. The greater consciousness of the universe will tell us. When your youngest brother comes to you and tells you, ‘Now is the time, Brother.’ You will know,” Lazarus smiled.

Angus mused over Lazarus’ almost cryptic statement and his lopsided smile. “I’ve often wondered about Shane. Even when he was younger, he seemed to be confused a lot. Not because he had a bad heart, but because he always seemed to be listening to the beat of a different drummer. It was like he was listening for a voice that was just beyond his range of hearing, like he knew it was there, he could hear it, but he couldn’t quite make out the words. I always told myself it was because he didn’t have any solid grounding because his parents were dead. Now, I’ve come to believe it’s more than that. I still see that faraway look in his eye sometimes, like he sees or hears something other men can’t,” Angus said.

“Another year, maybe less, and he will hear those voices, Brother. Then you will begin to listen to him. That’s when you will become whole again. You’ll let yourself off the hook and understand in yore’ heart you done the right thing by him,” Lazarus said quietly. Angus almost shed a tear as he shook Lazarus' hand to thank him for his kindness and his honesty with the men.

The ranchers came around to shake the Chief’s hand and thank him for his honesty. They shook Lazarus’ hand with reverence and told him what he said about extended family was a realization they came to on their own but never put into words before. They understood its meaning and were more than ready to participate.  They saw their task in the years to come as one of survival and not just existing. Their lives and the lives of their immediate families would depend on their cooperation. Lines were being drawn. The crazier the right wing fundamentalists got the more of their congregation they lost.

There were great changes from the dog and pony hysterics of a broad based fundamentalism to a more concerned and respectful meditation. Many folks became weary of people rolling around on the floor of the church, babbling like idiots, speaking in tongues no one could understand and being told they were holy. Folks got tired of being told about lakes of fire and eternal damnation if they didn’t abide by every crazy new idea some demigod of a preacher felt he could impose on them. As one old cowboy put it, “I’m such a sinner, I’m already gonna’ have to swim laps across that durn lake a’ fire. A few more coals added to the fire ain’t gonna’ make that much difference one way or ‘t'other.”

There came a great divide between religious philosophies. The more liberal and sedate churches were gaining in attendance as folks became overwhelmed by the excesses and abuse of power the fundamentalist clergy imposed upon their congregations. Giving to the church was raised from a voluntary contribution to a demanded tithe. Tithe amounts were adjusted according to an individual’s wealth gathered from tax records and expected to be paid. The right wing Christianist legislated their way into every aspect of society and government. Ignorant, small town preachers became like feudal lords of the middle ages.

Liberal churches found themselves being persecuted by the more vocal and militant fundamentalist churches. The right wing was trying to stamp out the liberal churches because, under guaranteed freedom of religion, they had as much legitimate claim to the tithes of their congregations as the fundamentalist to theirs. Some of the more wealthy ranchers and members of the community belonged to liberal churches. It was money the fundamentalist preachers weren’t getting and their greed overwhelmed their tolerance, to say nothing of understanding or compromise.

The fundamentalists began to insist their view of religion was the only valid one and liberal churches were preaching heresy. Many historians made comparisons to the early day founding of the Catholic church wiping out Gnosticism and the Cathars. If the Catholic church disapproved of any aspect of theology which didn’t follow Catholic dogma, it was banned as heretical and forcibly destroyed. The truth of religion or justification for such actions had no basis in concern for the souls or betterment of mankind. It was all about power and money. So it became with the fundamentalists. They were out to brainwash and control the whole of their societies. They were working furiously to have what was left of the constitution changed to acknowledge Fundigelical Pentecostal  Protestant Christianity as the only officially recognized religion of the United States.

Other religions would be tolerated, but they had to pay a tithe to the fundamentalist churches to continue to exist. It began to divide communities, but it also had the effect of bonding the smaller, more liberal congregations together like never before. There were just enough rugged individualists left in the West who could see the way their society was going and refused to be caught up in the fanatical maelstrom of fundamentalism. The religious right became increasingly warlike in their attitudes and approaches to other religions and the other churches in their communities. They began to train their ‘Young Christian Soldiers’ at training camps called ‘Jesus Camps’ where children as young as six years old were encouraged to wear uniforms and taught to drill with small replicas of automatic weapons, all in the name of Jesus. History has confirmed, in many instances, organized religion, in particular fundamentalism, marches in lockstep with neo-conservative fascist political values. It is no coincidence in the twenty-first century an ex-Nazi became the Pope of the Roman Catholic church.
    
* * * * * * *
There was nothing settled as to when, where, or how the ranchers might make their first strike against the aliens who were robbing them. There were several things to consider and plans to be made to protect their cowboys from thought control by the gray critters. Lazarus promised to get the ranchers the anti-static material he told them about before a fortnight. He would have Cable run off fifty yards of the material from the ship’s replicators. Lazarus and Charlie thanked Chief Tin Penny for his help and support.

“We must stand together as the tribe of man rather than be individual tribes, Captain Long,” he spoke solemnly.

“I hope these men understand that, Chief,” Lazarus replied.

“I think they do understand it, Gentlemen,” Charlie said, "or they soon will," he added.

* * * * * * *
The afternoon wore on and Charlie's kitchen help served homemade ice cream and cake as a final dessert for the day. It was enjoyed by everyone. It was a real treat for the Stamper boys. After they finished, they asked their boss if they could talk with the men they thought were their examining angels. Blake Tindell already asked Cable if they were prepared for the boy’s questions, and he assured him they were.

“I don’t see why not, Gentlemen, as long as you’re polite and not too personal. They’re fine men and will tell you the truth,” Blake said.

The boys walked over to where Cable, David, and Jonathan were talking to several of the women folk. They stopped their conversations to acknowledge the boys. “Ah, the Stamper brothers. Gentlemen, it’s good to see you again. Congratulations on the great game you played today.” Cable stuck out his hand to shake Burt’s and passed him on to David as he took Phil’s hand and shook it. Cable had something good to say to each boy as he shook their hand, but he paid special attention to Sam. “Sam, you’re looking particularly fit and happy. You look as if you’re adjusting well to your new lifestyle,” Cable said.

“I suppose so, sir. As well as can be expected anyway. How have you gentlemen been?” Sam asked.

“We’re well, and happy to be here today. We’re thrilled to have been invited by Mr. Goodnight to share in the festivities today. We're having a great time.”

“Are you the gentlemen who examined us for our physicals?” Sam asked.

“Why, yes, we are. I hope we were gentle enough with you," Cable said.

“You were fine. None of my brothers had any complaints. As a matter of fact we were in awe of you and your brothers. Where do you come from and where is your clinic?” Sam asked innocently.

“Our clinic isn’t far from here, and we are the sons of Master Long, the Ramrod of this ranch," Cable replied.

“You’re Master Long’s sons? I thought Lucas was his son. Oh, but wait a minute. He looks a little like you men. You must be his older brothers,” Sam said.

“You might say that. We’re considerably older than young Lucas. We’re helping to raise him. We’re very proud of him and what he’s accomplished. We’re also proud of the way he played football today. We were rooting for him and his team,” Cable said.

“Are you slaves, too?” Sam asked.

“No, only young Lucas is our father’s slave. He’s comfortable with his position, it defines his life right now, and he has us to help him along. We love him very much,” Cable replied.

“I apologize if I’ve asked too many questions, sir. I didn’t mean to be a bother,” Sam said, remembering his manners.
        
“Nonsense! It’s quite all right. You’re naturally curious about the three nude men who examined you. We’re always naked at the clinic because when our patients are nude it seems to put them at ease,” Cable explained.

“It shore’ worked for me, sir. You men are remarkable. You must work out a lot to keep your bodies so perfectly fit,” Sam said.

“We have a routine we complete every day to stay fit. The better we look the more at ease our patients seem to be.”

The other brothers were taking in all of this. Each had a question for the men and they answered as best they could without giving a lot to the Stamper brothers. Zeke complimented them on their cowboy outfits and how authentic they looked.

“Having a cowboy for a father, we learned how to dress Western at an early age, but we prefer to be nude most of the time. We practice holistic nudity when we’re alone at home. It's just more comfortable for us. If we’re warm and comfortable, we don’t see the need for clothing.”

“After seeing you naked, I can understand why,” Burt confessed.

The boys asked a lot of questions of other people about Lucas and got very little from them. Lucas himself was cordial with them but wouldn’t linger in conversation. He wasn’t rude to any of the boys, he was just busy most of the time. When he wasn’t doing something with his friends he was with his master or one of the other men who seemed to be protective of him. He became more of a mystery to the Stamper boys than he was before.   

* * * * * * *
The afternoon came to an end. Everyone said their goodbyes and thanked the Goodnight brothers and Ramrod Long for a wonderful day. The Stamper brothers were most grateful for being included and shook everyone’s hands in gratitude. They were wowed by the hairy men at the ranch. They met Ox, but to meet a smaller version of the big men and play football with him was an altogether different ball game. They shook Ox’s big hand, Captain Trong’s, and Strom’s huge paw. It was all Strom could do to keep from hugging each one. With Captain Jones’ pregnancy, Strom was going into paternal mode and anyone under the age of twenty fell under his parental protective urges.

The guests left and Charlie invited those left into the ranch house for a late supper. The boys gave Ida Mae the evening off to be with Hank and put out left-overs from the noon meal. Lucas was in charge and ran everything like a benevolent monarch. Ida was proud of him. He’d come a long way and learned a lot from her and his master. She and Hank Morgan had supper with the men and then retired to her house. J.R. stayed with his brothers to help clean up afterward and join the men around the fireplace. It turned out to be a cool evening.

Captain Trong and Commander Fielding would be leaving to return to their ship with their younger children. Kurg had such a good time he became a bit withdrawn and began to cling to his human dad. The commander could read him like a book. There was a closeness between them that was undeniable. He knew Kurg wanted to stay with his brothers, but he wasn’t old enough and the time was not right for him to be accepted into this society yet. His dad held him, stroked him and told him quietly his time would come.

Trong and the commander were impressed with the ranch and whatever trepidations they might have had about letting their boys live there were washed away by the camaraderie of the day and evening. Kurg’s brothers and Waco finally got him away from his dad and engaged him in conversation about the day and football. Kurg was enthralled with the game and spirit of being part of a team effort. Waco promised Kurg he would see to it he spent a good deal of time at the ranch. There was always time and room for weekend sleep overs.

Finally it came time for the Trongs, David, Jonathan, and Cable to return to the Bandersnatch. Arlen and Bryce would be staying the night with the ramrod and his son. The men walked them out to the portal in the barn to say ‘goodbye’ accompanied by two frisky dogs and one huge young stallion who insisted on walking right behind Waco and Ox as close as he could get to them. Ranger was always amazed by the men disappearing though the door of “blue-light water,” as he referred to it. There were final handshakes and hugs and the company departed. The men said their good-nights and headed for their respective houses. JR started to walk with Lazarus and his men and Waco whistled to him. “Hey, Little Brother. Come with us. I got permission from your ma to sleep over with us tonight. She and Hank need some time alone,” Waco winked at JR and smiled. JR’s face brightened, and he smiled back and nodded knowingly.

“Really? That’s great, Brother. Who do I get to bunk it in with?” JR asked.

“Take yore’ pick. Ox is gonna’ stay in the barn tonight with his dad, and there’s just the four of us. We can bunk it in the large bed if’n you like.”

“That’d be great.”

JR was happy to be included with the older boys. He played his heart out at football and was one of a few men, other than Waco and Lucas, who played the entire game. Waco figured he would pass out as soon as they got into bed and his prediction came true. The boys were tired.

* * * * * * *
Lazarus returned with Lucas, Arlen, and Bryce to his house, followed close behind by Bron, Bronc, and Ts’gan. Bron and his boys said ‘goodnight’ and went off to their room. Lazarus, Arlen, Bryce, and Lucas went into the kitchen and sat down around the table. Lazarus offered the two older men a bit of bourbon. Bryce accepted, but Arlen declined. He didn’t think it would be good for the bairns. Lazarus already started to pour him a small amount but divided most of it between his and Bryce’s glass. The rest, about one finger, he sat in front of Lucas.

“Ever taste good whiskey, Son?”

“Naw, sir. Ain’t never tasted any kind of alcohol,” Lucas answered.

“Sip it slowly in small amounts. It’ll burn like the devil going down the first time. It’s an acquired taste. If you don’t like it, stop. You ain’t required to drink it,” Lazarus said firmly.

“I’d like to taste it, Dad, but I don’t know about drinking it.”

“It’s up to you, Son.”

Lucas slowly raised the glass to his lips as the men watched. He took a small sip and swallowed. His face turned bright red. He began to choke and cough. Lazarus put his arm around him and patted him gently on his back. Arlen and Bryce were trying not to laugh, but Lazarus got such a concerned papa look on his face they couldn't help it. Arlen stopped long enough to speak. “We ain’t laughing at you, Son. We’re laughing at the memories of the first time we ever tasted strong liquor. I reacted much worse than you. I damn near passed out. I swore I’d never take another drink of the shit and didn’t for a number of years,” Arlen said.

“Me, too, Little Brother,” Bryce added, “I still don’t drink very much. I ain’t that crazy about it.”

“I think that will be my only try until I’m older, but I appreciate you letting me taste it, Dad.”

Lazarus took the rest and shared it with Bryce. “Was it my imagination today or were you smoother than I’ve ever seen you on the playing field?” Lazarus raised an eyebrow at Lucas.

“Yeah, we noticed it, too, Little Brother,” Bryce added.

“I felt different. Everything just seemed to fall into place. I think part of it was playing in front of and with Caleb’s brothers. It was something else though. It was the love and support I got from my brothers, and the men there what love me. I could feel it, but it wasn’t only them, either. It was Scraps, Happy, and certainly Ranger. I could also feel the Kryscells. I gave them permission to ride along and experience the game with me. They were as encouraging and sometimes as rowdy as the folks on the sidelines, especially Blue Boy. I actually let him take control and play several downs.”

“Blue Boy? You mean the blue Kryscellian we managed to bring back to life? You let him take control of your body?” Lazarus asked Lucas.

“Yes, sir, we don’t call him that, but he knows we think of him that way. He knows we humans have nicknames for those we respect, appreciate, and are close to. He feels honored we gave him a cognomen. He caught on to the game real quick, and he handled my body with great precision. All I had to do was let him take over; I sat back and went along for the ride.”

“Are you boys working on a way to make the Krysallians a bit more mobile?” Arlen asked.

“Yes, sir, Captain Jones. We’re working with them, Ox, Ping, Pong, Cable, David, and Jonathan. Waco’s in charge and he’s come up with some remarkable ideas. I’m afraid I can’t tell you too much about it. I’ve been sworn to secrecy. Of course I told them my trust would have to be tempered by my master’s wishes. They understand my circumstances.”

“I won’t require you to reveal anything to me, Son,” Lazarus said, “At some point we have to start trusting each other. I set that task for Waco to see what you men could come up with. Since he’s included you and wants your input, it would be wrong of me to insist you share it. I trust you and Waco. Besides, you have too much good guidance from some fine folks to go too far astray. Knowing Ping and Pong you couldn’t go too far for them. Those two have a store of knowledge we’re only beginning to learn about. They surpass the Kryscellians in some areas. I’ll be looking forward to what you men come up with.”

“So will we. Can you give us a guesstimate about a time frame for completion?” Bryce asked.

“It will depend on certain factors of materials and availability of a few extra things we'll have to order and have especially made. Cable and Ping assured us our ideas are sound, within reason, and feasible if somewhat unorthodox,” Lucas chose his words carefully.

“Unorthodox?” Lazarus smiled wryly at Lucas, took a sip of his drink, and winked at Arlen and Bryce. “I may regret saying this, but I like the sound of that,” he said and laughed.

“I do, too, but why do I get the feeling it’s going to be something us adults would never think of, and we ain't gonna’ be prepared for?” Arlen chuckled. Bryce laughed, too.

“Most of the ideas are Waco’s. The rest of us men have only made suggestions to enhance them or worked to confirm the plausibility of his concepts. He’s definitely thinking outside the box. If we complete the project the way Waco conceived it, I think you men will not only be pleased, you will be blown away,” Lucas said softly, but couldn’t help chuckle under his breath.

“Damnation! He sounds like an engineer talking about his pet project and a corporate diplomat trying to sell it to the government,” laughed Lazarus.

The men shared a laugh.

“One other thing, Dad, since we’re talking about it,” Lucas said quietly.

“Yes?” Lazarus replied.

“H’it ain’t gonna’ be cheap.”

“I didn’t expect it to be. If Waco put you up to feeling me out about it, tell him and the rest of your crew, financing ain’t no problem. The Kryscells have saved our butts too many times to scrimp on their comfort. They are wonderful allies and good friends. Whatever you men have in mind, it’s first class all the way.”

“I told Master Waco you’d say that, but it's nice to have it confirmed,” Lucas smiled.

* * * * * * *
After returning to their ranch the Stamper boys showered and got ready for bed. Blake always managed to have a brief bullshit session with the boys before sending them to bed. They would discuss things which happened to them during the day and were allowed to ask questions about what was going on. It seemed to have the effect of bringing them together and accepting Blake as their established leader. He slowly earned the boy’s admiration and respect. They not only cared about him, they trusted him and were even becoming protective of him. Blake threw the floor open for discussion. They were silent for a moment.  

“Well, h’it ain’t no secret who owns us no more,” Jeb stated flatly. The other boys looked at him quizzically. Sam got a big grin across his face and chuckled as he punched Jeb in the arm playfully and nodded. Blake just grinned at him real big.

“I might a’ know’d you and Sam 'ud be the first ones to figure it out,” Blake grinned as he complimented Jeb. The other three obviously didn't have a clue.

“Who owns us?” asked Phil. Burt looked at Sam and Jeb.

“I didn’t pick up on it ‘til little brother jes' said what he done. It was right under our noses the whole time. It was almost too obvious,” Sam said, “Just think who them three naked cowboy vets work for? Who's their daddy?” Sam asked his brothers.

“You mean the Ramrod of the Goodnight ranch bought us?” Zeke asked.

“Good for you, Little Brother,” Sam complimented him, “He’s got his own son for a slave. Guess that would make Lucas Long our slave brother.”

“Is that right, Boss?” Burt asked Blake for confirmation.

“E’aup, Master Long owns you men. You be his livestock. Just like his own son is his livestock, and I’m Master Goodnight’s livestock.”

“Why all the secrecy?” Phil asked.

“H’it ain’t no secret. Everybody else knows about it. You just didn’t need to know before now,” Blake said.

“Why ain’t we working for him?” Zeke asked.

“You are. What do you think you’re doing here? He’s footing the bill for ever' bit of this construction we’re doing. He’s helping expand Master Hoot and Cotton’s business. He’s got a vested interest here and in Master Charlie’s ranch. Eventually, you’ll work directly for him. He’s real busy right now. He’s got a lot on his plate. He don’t have time to work with you and train you himself and be ramrod of one of the biggest ranches in the state, so he contracted with Master Hoot and Cotton. Master Charlie loaned him me to work with you men.”  

“Where’d he get money like that?” Burt asked.

“A slave don’t need to know that sort a’ thing. You can think about it all you like, but you don’t need to know. As a matter of fact, I don’t even know. T’ain’t none of ma’ business. My business is being the best damn slave-trustee I can for Master Charlie and doing the best at any job he assigns me,” Blake said.

“Are you happy ride’n herd on us, Boss?” Zeke asked.

“What do you think, Son?” Blake smiled at him.

“You seem to be happy most of the time,” Zeke replied

“Of course, I’m happy. You don’t have to be depressed being a slave. Did you men have a good time today?” he asked.

“Great!” Sam replied.

“Wonderful!” Jeb and Zeke allowed.

“We had a damn good time, Boss,” Burt spoke for him and Phil, “I guess when you don’t have it given to you all the time, when you have a good day come along it makes you appreciate it more.”

“Good observation, Burt,” Blake complimented him.

“All I can say is there’s some strange things going on at the Goodnight ranch," Phil declared.

“What’da ya’ mean, Phil?” Blake asked.

“All them hairy men and animals talking to the humans. When that Border Collie ran into our huddle and told Master Waco a play to run, I damn near shit my pants. Can the female talk?” Phil asked.

“Naw, just Scraps. He’s kind of a fluke.”

“And the big draft horse,” Jeb said, “I heard him speak several times. How is it a horse can talk?” he asked.
 
“Uh, he can’t, Jeb. Ranger can’t speak,” Blake replied cautiously, realizing he might be in over his head. 'Were the Stamper boys developing telepathy?' he asked himself.

“Meaning no disrespect, Boss, but I done heard him clear as day,” Jeb insisted.

“So did I,” Zeke backed up his brother.

“I did, too, Boss,” Sam added.

“Okay, I might be wrong about that. Let me check it out, and I’ll get back to you. I ain't never heard him speak, but you’re right, sometimes there’s some strange things what go on around that ranch. It certainly ain’t dull, though,” Blake said and laughed.

“It's better'n Six Flags over to that ranch. I wanna’ go back as often as we’re allowed,” Sam declared. The other brothers agreed with him.

“Why do I get the feeling we’re involved with something what’s way beyond our understanding right now?” Jeb asked rhetorically.

“Maybe you are,” Blake said softly, “but I promise you, it ain’t nothing bad. Trust me. Even as slaves, you’re more fortunate than you know. Just keep going like you are now. Work hard, cooperate, learn, and keep your eyes and ears open. More will be revealed to you as time goes on and your master feels you’re ready for it. I’ve seen things since I was given this job what have made me stop and wonder. Just give it a chance and let things progress in a natural manner. You will be as amazed as I was and you will come to understand why you’ve become slaves to Ramrod Long.”

“Our owner must be well thought of and important. I seen him talking with the other ranchers today, and they were hanging on his every word,” Sam said.

“He is well thought of. His ideas and opinions are highly valued, especially in today’s world and our immediate community. You know how hectic the world is we live in. You men were born after our country fell to the right wing and became a one party Theocratic Republic, they call it, but h’it ain’t nothing like a real democracy like we had before. I can barely remember it myself. Since they took over, times have been rough for farmers and ranchers. They been left behind in a huge corporate run world. Some even refer to it as corporate communism. If I had to define in one word what’s happening to you men is an 'adventure.' Not just a ho-hum everyday adventure neither. As Jeb suggested earlier, a great adventure you have no concept about what will last the rest of your lives, and you are only in the early days. The fact you’re slaves is only a small part of the greater picture of what’s to come. Have faith, Gentlemen. Have faith in me, have faith in your masters, have faith in your owner, but more importantly, have faith in yourselves.”

“I guess it’s the everyday things what sometimes get to us, Boss,” Burt said.

“I can understand that, but look how far you’ve come. What was your life like as brothers before you became slaves?” Blake challenged them.
 
“We's all the time fighting with each other and our older brothers tried to make us younger men do everything for them like it was their due jes’ ‘cause they’s older’n us. But they wouldn’t do nothing for us in return. Have'n them for brothers was like ride'n down a frick'n one-way street!” Jeb exclaimed in disgust, then added, “Except for Sam. I guess ‘cause he’s in the middle he tried to get along with both sides.”

“I think I’d give Sam a little more credit than that,” Blake said, “Okay, so it was you against them, and all of you against your little brother. Since you been here how many fights have you had?” Blake asked.

“None,” Zeke said.

“Why do you think that is, Zeke?” Blake asked.

“Hell, we ain't got no time for fight'n. We's too damn busy from dawn to dusk. We work side by side with ‘em all day and work jes’ as hard as they do. We deserve to be respected and treated as equals if’n we’s pull’n our weight,” Zeke said.

“Do you and Phil agree with that, Burt?” Blake asked.

“Yes, sir, Boss,” Phil answered for both. Burt nodded his agreement.

“They ain’t such little pests here, and we ain’t got nothing for ‘em to be get’n into,” Burt allowed, "All we got is each other."

“How about being forced to take the time to get to know your younger brothers and what their individual values are?” Blake asked.

“Yes, sir, there’s definitely that,” Sam said, “What’s happening is we’re becoming something we never was before,” he said like he came to a conclusion.

“And what’s that, Sam?” Blake coaxed him.

“We're becoming a family,” Sam said resolutely.

“Exactly!” Blake emphasized, “It's as simple as that," he added. All right, that’s enough for tonight. Let’s get to bed. We got us a full day tomorrow. I wanna’ get the wiring and the last of the plumbing finished up. We’re ahead of schedule and part of this coming week I want us to start doing some much needed repairs to the other cowboy's bunkhouse. It will go a long way toward good public relations with them men.”

Blake asked Burt to say an evening prayer and when he was done the boys departed; everyone, except Burt. “Boss, you know you’re becoming a part of our family,” he said as a rhetorical statement and not a question.

“Yes, I know, and it feels good. I'm right proud of you men. I never had me no family when I’s growing up, Burt. I never learned to give and take and appreciate folks around me. Being Master Charlie’s cowboy slave for these years has taught me a lot. My cowboy slave brothers became my family. I always felt cheated as a kid because I missed out on not having a family, but I been given a second chance. I ain’t gonna’ fuck it up. I'm gonna' make the most of it. Maybe you and I are in the same boat, Burt. You were ready to step out into adulthood on your eighteenth birthday. You probably would a’ left your family behind and never truly learned to appreciate them. Now, you been given a second chance. Make the most of it, Son, and I guarantee you won’t never regret it.”
   
“Thanks, Boss. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Son.”

* * * * * * *
When escrow paid Elam Stamper for selling his boys into slavery, he asked for payment in cash. He specified he wanted it in one thousand dollar denominations, in five envelopes of fifty thousand each. They gave him what he wanted. He took his five heavily ladened envelopes home and promptly hid them where he could remember where he put them. They were nowhere in or around the house in case of fire and were sealed in large, heavy duty Ziploc bags.

His female companion, Betty Blanche Hightower, a local honky-tonk beer hall slut, wore cheap clothes too young for her and even cheaper perfume. When she got drunk, her heavily painted lips looked like two night crawlers trying to have sex. She urged him to sell his boys into slavery and asked all sorts of questions about what bank he had his money in and was he going to sign her on as a joint account holder?

He refused to answer her questions, but she began to notice him disappearing to the side of the barn when he needed more money for them to drink or play. After getting Elam really drunk one night and making sure he was passed out in bed, she took her flashlight and did a quick search of the area to the side of the barn. She discovered his secret stash of almost fifty thousand dollars. She didn’t bother to look further. She quickly packed her bags and drove her pea-green Dodge Dart back to the only bar on the outskirts of town named 'Slim Pickin's.' There she joined a big cowboy, Jack Hall, she knew for sometime who was in town for a few days visiting relatives. He worked as a roughneck in the oil fields. After fucking her a couple of times in the bed of his pickup, out behind the bar, in a drunken moment he asked her to leave the small town or Reason and come to the Lubbock area with him and play house.

After buying them both a drink, she told him she was packed and ready to go. They left in his newer pickup truck, and she left her car with her niece. She figured she had enough money to buy herself a newer one. One that actually ran on all cylinders and didn’t belch-fire and smoke after every full stop. Betty Blanche’s new boyfriend was Jack Hall. He was a rough talking, beer swilling, redneck cowboy who went through women like shit through a long necked goose. He was good looking, knew how to dress authentically Western and reportedly sported a quarter-pounder McPenis between his legs. (a super-size-me schwantzstucker) His license plate on his big black Ford dually pickemup truck read: HANG'N 12 with a set of chrome bull balls swinging underneath the trailer hitch. It was no lie, and he knew how to best use every inch of it to tame and satisfy the wildest man-eating pussy.

B. B. (Betty Blanche), as she was called by her intimates, thought she had it made. She had herself the cowboy of her dreams, with the dick of death, and damn near fifty thousand dollars in the bottom of her purse; more money than she ever had at one time in her life. They drove to Lubbock together, but she was wise enough not to flash a lot of money. She let Jack pay for most everything, but she did manage to get a one thousand dollar bill changed at a truck stop and began spending a little of Elam’s money.

It took them two days to get to Lubbock and another day to settle in before Jack had to go back to work in the oil fields and leave B. B. at home by herself. He lived on his own small ranch out away from town about ten miles. There was nothing around for miles. Jack’s place was in the middle of nowhere. There were no neighbors for miles in either direction. It was pretty bleak and desolate, but B. B. figured she’d soon get a small car and could leave any time she wanted. She just wouldn’t let Jack know about the money she stole from Elam.  

Elam discovered the next day his 'sweety' robbed him and skipped town with Jack Hall. He didn’t let on to anyone she made off with his money. He drove around town and saw B. B.’s car sitting in the driveway of her niece. He casually went to the door to inquire if B. B. was there, knowing full well she probably wasn’t. B. B.’s niece was full of regrets but unfortunately had no information for Elam as to where she was.

Jack’s license plate was known by everyone and burned into Elam’s memory like a cattle brand. He had no trouble casually inquiring of his cousin who worked at the Sheriff’s station the address of his old buddy Jack Hall from DMV records for the State of Texas. After he got the information he wanted, Elam went home, threw a few clothes in a duffel bag, got his twelve gauge shotgun he used for turkey shooting and killing jackrabbits, threw them behind the seat of his truck and set out for Lubbock.

He had no trouble finding Jack’s spread and parked his truck away from the house behind a large water tank. He had his field binoculars and watched what went on for a day. He figured out Jack would leave around six every evening, because he was on the swing shift on an oil rig. The second evening, a couple of hours after Jack drove away, Elam took his shotgun, loaded it, and walked under the cover of night to the house.

He could see B. B. walking around in her slip in the house. He watched her get up from the TV to walk down the hall to the kitchen to get herself another cold beer. Elam silently let himself into the room through the screen door. When she returned to the living room a look of fear and horror spread across her face when she saw Elam with his gun leveled at her head.

She never had a chance to speak a word when he unloaded both barrels into her face. The impact not only blew her lovely night crawlers away, it lifted her up and knocked her backward down the hallway about eight feet into the kitchen where she slammed up against the refrigerator with a dull thud, then slid to the floor on her ass. Her arms and legs were flailing about like a puppet whose strings became entangled and the puppeteer could no longer control its actions.
 
Elam walked down the hallway, stepping over her flopping body and into the main bedroom of the house. He looked into Jack’s closet and found what he was looking for. He knew every cowboy living out away from town would have his own collection of guns. He found Jack's twelve gauge, fully loaded and returned to the kitchen. B. B. was still flopping uncontrollably and letting out mewing sounds like a cat going through the throes of death.

Elam cocked the gun and unloaded both barrels into her chest, stopping her heart immediately. B. B. stopped twitching. Elam was wise enough to wear gloves and threw the smoking gun across the table in the kitchen. He returned to the bedroom and found B. B.’s purse. He emptied the contents on the bed and found his plastic, Ziploc bag with the manila envelope inside. He saw she cashed one of his bills. He took the majority of the larger bills but left some. He didn’t bother to open the envelope and count the money. He knew, without a doubt, from the weight of it, B. B. was too stupid to hide any of the money. She never thought Elam would have the balls to come after her. She gambled and lost.

Elam got what he came after; his job was done, and he left. He took an old branch off a tree he found in the yard and dragged it behind him covering his footprints in the dirt as he walked away from the house. In ten minutes he was back to his truck, popped the top on a cold can of beer and chug-a-lugged several heavy pulls to consume the contents. He was always thirsty after he went hunting and made a clean kill. His gun assured his revenge and the beer chaser cooled his anger. When he finished, he put his gun in the rack behind his truck seat, threw the empty can into the back of the truck, started the motor, and headed back home.

Jack returned home around two o’clock in the morning to the carnage. At first, he was concerned someone might still be in the house, but when he saw his own gun on the table, he knew there wasn’t anyone there. He walked into his bedroom and found B. B.’s purse and everything dumped out onto the bed. He began to put two and two together. He went to the fridge and got himself a beer. He had to push B. B.’s body out of the way to get the door open. He tried hard not to look at her. He got an old tarp off the back porch he used for painting and threw it over her. He went into the living room and sat down on the sofa.

What was he going to do? His mind was racing as he took a long hit from his cold can of beer. What happened while he was gone? His immediate reaction was to call the Sheriff and let him handle it, but instead, he decided to cool down for a bit and think about it. The only thing he could think of was Elam got jealous and came after B. B. No, that dog didn't hunt long. He didn’t think Elam was that taken with her. She asked him several times to marry her, but he refused every time.

Jack knew Elam recently sold his boys into slavery and was rumored to get a lot of money for them. With Betty’s purse emptied on the bed, whoever was there was looking for something specific. They didn’t even take all the money. There was still a couple of hundred dollars left. Then the facts began to take shape and jell in his mind. Somehow B. B. ripped Elam off, and he came after his money.

She didn’t tell Jack anything about it. She placed him in jeopardy without his knowledge, and she got her damn head blown off. If Elam was jealous, he would’ve been after Jack as well. He could’ve easily taken out both of them, but he didn’t. He waited until Jack went to work. His beef wasn’t with Jack, it was with B. B.

Elam was smart. He killed her with Jack’s gun. From the looks of her, she was hit twice, but he knew the Sheriff wouldn’t care about that. She was dead, and Jack figured as far as the Sheriff was concerned, it was Jack’s gun that killed her. He would have a lot of explaining to do. Finally, a smile slowly crossed Jack’s face. Elam played his cards right. Jack knew the Sheriff would find no trace of Elam around the place and in a rush to justice, there was a good chance Jack would be charged with her murder. Even if, by some slim chance he wasn’t convicted, there would be a bundle to pay in attorney fees for his defense and he knew, beyond a doubt, he would lose his job; probably lose his truck and ranch as well. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

Jack remember a story his granddaddy told him one time about a dog who had to cross a railroad track everyday to get home and got the tip of his tail caught in the tracks. The train was coming but the frantic dog couldn't bring himself to bite his tail off to get away. Thus, the train ran over him and cut his head off. “You know what the moral to that story is, Boy?” his granddad asked him.

“Naw, sir. What, Granddad?” Jack asked.

“Don't never lose yore' head over a little piece a’ tail,” the old man answered.

Jack was more relaxed after his beer and returned to the kitchen. He tucked the tarp in and around B. B.’s dead body and carried her out and laid her in the back of his pickup truck. He had a camper shell on the back with dark tinted windows. He threw in his shovel and pick and locked the back. He returned to the kitchen, made himself a sandwich, got the three last beers in the fridge, climbed into his truck and headed out to the badlands behind his house.

It was a hot, West Texas night. The moon was shining just enough you could see everything in the desert, and the stars were brilliant. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. After traveling for nearly thirty-five minutes, Jack came to a secluded canyon he knew about and stopped the truck. He turned his radio on low to his favorite Country and Western station and popped himself another beer. He set it on the hood of the truck and walked to the back.

Jack got out his pick and shovel and began to dig a grave in the hard packed sand. It took him about an hour to dig a hole about five feet deep, four feet wide, and six feet long. He guessed she wasn’t taller than five feet six. When he was satisfied his hole was sufficient, he stuck his shovel in the sand for the last time and leaned his arms and chin against it to rest. The work made him hot and horny. He took his shirt off and threw it into the seat of the truck and walked back to the rear.

The tarp came undone and he could see B. B. hadn’t been wearing anything under her slip. He could see her cunt wide open in the moonlight. He reached in and felt her. It was such a hot night rigor mortise hadn’t set in yet. She was still warm to the touch. Jack’s big cowboy cock went from semi-flaccid to rock hard. Should he? He’d heard about weirdos who liked to stop by a mortuary now and then for a cool one. He didn’t think he could do anything like that, but there it was, just grinning at him like an old Edsel in a junkyard.

Before he gave it a second thought, Jack had his Wranglers down to his boot tops and was easing his big cowboy cock into B. B.’s cunt. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it might be. Hell, he fucked women who were more loose than her. It began to feel pretty damn good to him. Jack fucked her for all he was worth and unloaded a huge cowboy load of fresh baby-batter, crotch-commandos, on a suicide mission deep into her cunt. He finally pulled out and wondered if he should wait for a while and fuck her again before he buried her. ‘Naw,’ he thought, ‘I won’t tempt fate. To fuck her once put the period at the end of our sentence for old time’s sake. To fuck her twice would be downright perverted; just plumb sick,’ he thought to himself.

He wrapped her up good in the tarp and placed her in the hole. It only took him a few minutes to cover her and make the area look undisturbed. He set big rocks around on top so the coyotes couldn’t dig her up. When he was through, he loaded his tools in the back of his truck and closed it. He got his last beer and sat on a big rock overlooking B. B.’s grave enjoying the last few minutes of the desert night.

“Sorry it came down to this, Babe,” he said as he toasted her with his beer, “but you just should a’ never stole that old cowboy’s money. I guess I should say some holy words over you, but I can’t remember me none. I never was much of a church goer. I hope the good Lord forgives you and takes you home with him. Wish’t we could a’ had a little more time together, at least until we got tired a’ one another. I'll say one thing for ya,' you was a pert-damn good piece a’ ass. Thanks for the final fuck in the truck. Maybe I shouldn't a' done it, but I thought you might appreciate a cold one for the road. Even dead, you was damn good. I fucked me some scags in my day what weren’t no better alive. Maybe my boys in my baby-batter will help you rest in peace. I hope so. I know off-load’n ‘em’s gonna’ make me sleep good. Adios, Darlin.’ Until we meet again in that big honky-tonk in the sky. Say ‘hello’ to Patsy, Willie, Waylon, and old Hank for me.”

Jack finished his beer and returned to his truck. He threw the can on the floorboard. He knew better than to leave anything around. He slowly drove home as the sun was coming up in the East. He got home and did a cursory clean up of the mess, showered and went to bed. He slept like a baby. He had the next evening off so he spent the day burning B. B.’s clothes behind the barn. He loaded her personal belongings in a black plastic bag and threw it in the back of his truck. He always carried his garbage to work with him and threw it into one of the huge dumpsters. No one ever looked in the bags, and they were taken to a landfill daily.

Within a couple of days everything was back to normal, and there was no trace B. B. was ever at his place. When a buddy asked about the woman he brought back with him, Jack told him she already moved on. B. B.’s niece called him a couple of times, and he told her the same thing. He told her how disappointed he was she left him, but he’d recover. She allowed it sounded like something B. B. would do. It was so like her to just up and leave without a word to anyone. She invited him to stop in to see her the next time he was in town. He promised he would.

As time went on folks forgot about B. B. Jack threw himself into his work and never allowed himself to think about her much. He didn't think Elam should've killed her, but he could understand his anger. Jack didn’t visit his folks until about a year later for the annual Fourth of July rodeo. He stayed with B. B.’s young niece and fucked her the whole time he was there. He had no compunction about drinking in the honky-tonk where he met B. B., and sure enough, after a while, Elam Stamper strolled in. He saw Jack sitting down the bar and nodded to him. Elam bought himself a beer and told the bartender he wanted to buy the cowboy down the bar one. The bartender set another beer in front of Jack, and he raised his bottle in thanks to Elam. Later they sat together, swapped stories, laughed, and talked about old times. The two cowboys never once spoke of Betty Blanche.


End Of Chapter 20 ~ Waco’s Lummox
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10/31/2006
02/06/2017