Ch 6 Rise and Shine

Joe had learned a bit at the convention. There were some new ideas out there in the cattle world. Bioengineering was doing great things for the industry. New business schemes and ways of thinking were transforming the old profession. Joe was happy to be involved.
Not only had Joe learned a bit at the convention, not only had it got him to thinking about his own ranch, but also he’d run into some old acquaintances. Some of these folks Joe only saw at theses conventions, and they were from all over the country. They all wanted to go and have a few drinks after the meetings adjourned and do a little catching up. Joe wasn’t going to pass up a couple of high balls.
Joe had a few whiskey and waters with his old friends, and made a few new ones. The conversation grew more erratic and loud as the night grew older. The stories turned from times remembered out on the range to times remembered between the sheets. Joe just sat back and sipped his whiskey, laughing to himself as his companions grew belligerent.
People started to spill drinks. People started fights over topics unbeknownst to either side. People fell down. Joe knew that the night was nearly dead, and really should be put down before it hurt someone. At about two a.m. the remaining partiers suggested they should all go to the strip joint, and maybe the whore house. Joe new the time had arrived, and he bid his adieu.
Joe liked to have a few drinks, but despised hangovers. Despite his young age and absence of spouse he usually turned in early than most. There was a strange wisdom about Joe, way beyond his years.
Joe walked the few blocks back to his room and dozed into a restless whiskey sleep. At six am his eyes popped wide awake.
It couldn’t be helped. This was a habit born of repetition. For as long as he could remember Joe had awoken at dawn or before to feed, or calf or check the water troughs, or do what ever else the cows demanded.
Despite the late night Joe knew there would be no more sleep for him this morning. He rose and took a long shower, dressed and headed downstairs to find a cup of coffee.
Joe finished his first cup as he watched the first inkling of light spark on the horizon. He was sitting on a bench just outside the casino. The air was crisp, but Joe didn’t mind. He was comfortable in most weather, in most situations.
Despite his efforts Joe was feeling the effects of the whiskey this morning. Joe chuckled to himself. If he felt this bad he could only imagine how bad his partners of the night could feel. He’d call them later and find out.
Joe had an inkling of what might make him feel better. He grabbed a second cup of coffee and ventured back outside. He started walking with no where in particular in mind.
The towering casinos and parking lots looked a bit more tranquil on this Sunday morning. Steam curled out of the back of the buildings, most likely a product of the laundry rooms slaving away to clean the sheets of a thousand rooms. The streets were quiet, only an occasional car passing by spewing exhaust into the still freezing morning. Joe could feel his cheeks begin to burn, and smiled to himself. He neared the river, as he approached he saw that a trail ran along its banks. Joe eased himself down the bank and headed west.
His smile widened. Something about being in nature, no matter how small a patch amongst humanity, put Joe at ease. He wondered how many people living within the confines of this city never realized that nature still strived within it. Joe began to notice birds, squirrels and tracks of deer and probably raccoon. His mind cleared, his headache ceased, his hangover eased. He should have invited some of his partners in crime.
Joe continued with no plan. He was just letting his legs do the thinking. A while later, after the buildings hugging the river banks had turned from elaborate to economical Joe started to notice more trash along the water way; cans and bottles, some pieces of clothing and an occasional blanket. Joe began to realize that people had been camping here. A short while later one of the blankets stirred as Joe walked by. He was in the middle of a transient camp.
Most things didn’t bother Joe. He usually felt he could handle himself in almost any situation. However, better judgment suggested he shouldn’t linger too long.
Joe wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the town. Rather than back track he thought he would continue on. He was pretty sure he was approaching a main bridge. He’d walk to there and then follow the street down a ways. He’d loop back toward his hotel. No more river walk, but at least he wouldn’t have to walk the same trail again.
As he neared the bridge Joe thought he could hear loud cursing. He quickened his pace. As he rounded a bend he saw three figures putting the boots to something, no someone, lying on the ground. Joe’s mind turned over quickly. Scenarios raced through his mind. He weighed his options and made a snap decision. All American Joe made the only decision a man like him could, he ran toward the figures yelling for all he was worth. He hoped to be able to buffalo the menacing figures. If not he’d have to hope he could hold his own.
Joe began yelling at the top of his lungs as he ran toward the three assailants. They all turned to face the approaching noise. Joe could immediately see that these weren’t men at all, but boys. They did what any boy caught doing wrong will do. They turned around and ran away.
Joe decided not to pursue. He was already pushing his luck. He instead stopped to check on the form under the army green blanket. What he saw was disturbing.
The man’s face was bloodied and swollen. Both eyes were swelling shut, and his nose was surely broken. The man was moaning, and wiggling slightly. Joe reached for his cell phone and dialed 911.
As he waited for the ambulance Joe noticed that the man stopped wiggling, and moaning. Joe knelt beside him, fearing the worse, but could see his chest rising and falling.
The ambulance showed and quickly loaded the man. Joe asked where they would take the man, and then hastily made for his hotel room.