Ch 8, Propostion

Joe was packed, his bag in the back seat of his truck, and he was headed east for home. However the urge to speak to the man he had saved a couple nights before was overwhelming. He jumped off of an exit and made his way toward where he thought the hospital was.

He couldn’t help it. He wanted to see and speak to this man. It seemed all but unbelievable to him that someone could live in such dire circumstances. He wasn’t going hoping to receive thanks, as many people might. He instead felt he should do more to help.

He meandered amongst the back streets and eventually found himself in the parking lot of the hospital. As he entered the doors he realized he had no idea who he was looking for. The women behind the desk did an excellent job of pointing Joe in the right direction despite his vague description. She was obviously an old pro despite her young age. Joe received a warm smile as he thanked her and headed down the hall.

Joe soon found himself standing outside of room 327. He hesitated there, his courage momentarily lacking. What exactly did he intend to say to this man? What was his plan? What if this man was unbalanced or a hard criminal? Joes swallowed hard and pushed the door open. Joe couldn’t turn around now. He was committed, and once committed all American Joe never quit.

Upon opening the door he immediately felt eyes upon him. The man looking at him didn’t appear unbalanced or hard. The swelling was down, the bruises were more yellow than blue. The man was a bit shaggy, but was a normal looking middle aged white guy. He looked like a lot of the patrons of the casinos from over the hill.

Joe realized that he had been watching the man without speaking for a beat too long. “Hello. My name is Joe. I was there two nights ago when you got put in here.”

“Good for you. Was it entertaining? I missed most of it.”

Joe was a little taken aback by the sarcastic tone and cutting remark. He nearly fell back into silence. Nearly turned around and walked right back out of the room, but he realized that this man was just being defensive as a reaction. He probably didn’t trust a damn soul. So Joe cracked back.

“Hell no it wasn’t entertaining, no one likes to watch an ass whooping. I didn’t see the whole fight. Did you get a couple leg kicks in at least? When I got there you were ready to tap.”

At this the man smiled. His entire face lit up. Joe, at this moment, knew there was a good man in there. A feisty man with some punch left in him.

“I’m not from here; I was just visiting for the weekend. I was headed home this morning, but I had to come see you. I can’t quit thinking about what I saw the other night. What the hell did you do to those kids?”

“Kids? What the hell do you mean kids?”

“You didn’t know? The people who jumped you were little more than boys; eighteen nineteen maybe.”

“I don’t remember a damn thing about the whole deal. I vaguely remember the ambulance ride. I didn’t do anything to anybody. They jumped me because I’m not from here either. I’m not from anywhere, and I belong nowhere. They jumped me because they hate me.”

The man’s face had a stone cold look on it. His eyes were distant and seemed to darken a little despite the bright hospital room. Joe remained quiet, letting him continue.

“I see it a lot. People despise anyone without a home. They think we are lazy and worthless. They think they are so damn much better than us. Why can’t they just leave us alone? I wasn’t hurting anybody. They had to come looking for me, and tried to kill me.”

The man’s eyes refocused in Joe’s direction. He came back on the defensive.

“So, what the hell do you want from me, a thank you? Congratulations, you saved someone that everyone else wants dead. I’ll buy you a damn trophy when I can afford one.”

“I don’t want anything from you. My conscience led me here. I need to quiet him. What’s your name dead man walking?”

Again the man’s face brightened, he enjoyed a good back and forth.

“You can call me Stanley. Your conscience can be cleared now. I’m still alive; I had a roast beef sandwich and coleslaw for lunch. I’ve been in a warm bed for a few nights. You owe me nothing else. I really do thank you for doing what you did. Without you I could be dead.”

Joe again was silent. He no longer felt awkward about being in this stranger’s room. He was back in control of the situation. He let Stanley twitch and look about the room as the silence grew awkward to him. Joe was thinking and weighing his options.

“How are you around animals Stanley? Do you mind physical labor? How about a change of scenery? Would you like a job?”

Stanley let the flurry of questions settle in. This was the most surprising thing he could have expected to come out of this cowboy’s mouth. His head swirled a bit, but he gathered his thoughts and replied.

“I worked as a veterinarian’s assistant for a week once. I quite liked it. I’ve run a shovel and a hammer a good deal. I’m a little older than I once was, but I can still hold my own even against the pups. I have been in this town plenty long; once I get jumped I usually make a move. I’m in no position to turn down a job, but I’d like to know what I’d be doing first.”

“Well Stanley, I work on a ranch a couple hundred miles from here. We’re a little short help coming into this spring. I need someone willing to do about anything. I’d need you to feed, build some fence, maybe run some equipment if I find you qualified.

“We’d put you up. Normally the help shares a bunk house. However, I can see by the look of you that you have a problem with the bottle. I couldn’t let you stay with the boys, because I want you to sober up, part of the deal. You sober up, and stay there, or the job goes away.

“I’ve got a pump house in my yard. We could put a cot in there. Ain’t much, but it’s heated. I think we could probably figure out a sink, maybe put a hot plate in. You could use my bathroom, eat with me part of the time and let me keep an eye on you.

“Pay wouldn’t be much, thousand a month, plus the room and a meal a day. I’d put you on a short leash, I will fire you at the drop of a hat if you give me reason.”

Joe watched Stanley’s reaction. He realized he’d been quite blunt, and easily may have offended him. He didn’t give a shit. He believed he was right, and believed the best way to help this man was to be straight forward.

“Well Joe, I’m really in no position to turn down a job. Ranching huh? It might be good for me, a little sun and clean air. I’m a grown man and can take care of myself. But if you think you want to keep an eye on me, that is fine.

“What kind of town are we talking about, a little one?”

“Well Stanley, you wouldn’t be in a town really. The ranch is about twenty miles of dirt road from what we call town. We keep enough supplies on hand to get by, go to town a couple times a month. Town, as you would call it, is a general store, a café and bar, a post office and a repair shop. That’s about it. You’d have no way of getting there, so you’d go when I go.”

Joe was curious if this would be a deal breaker. Not just everyone was adapted to surviving so far from people. However Stanley lit up again at this thought.

“Yeah, we will really be out in the middle of nowhere, huh? Make what you can on the land. How many people work there?”

“Well there is myself, the owner and his wife, a couple of their kids, two full time hands and you.”

“Anybody else live out there?”

“There’s another ranch about five miles down the road. It’s a small operation, just the family.”

“Well Joe, I’ve lived a lot of ways, I think I’d like to give this one a try.”

“All right, when can you get out of here?”

Stanley was already standing, looking for his clothes.