“So, we’ll be camping out?”
“Yes, it is too far for one day.”
Okay, we’ll be ready. Till then, you can find me here on the golf course or in room 111 at the resort hotel.”
“I will do that. Thank you.” Benton waved and returned to his friends. Adan watched them a moment, then walked back to his hiding place in the draw. He drank water and chewed on jerky as he planned his trip, only this time without his friend, Dario. It would be a lonely one.
Gathering items, he put them in the small backpack he’d found last week in the trash, one with the Great Dane cartoon character, Scooby Doo on the front. The only blemish on the pack was a torn place on the flap. He put water, jerky, matches for emergencies, and some crackers and a small tin of sardines in the pack, Adan slid his arms through the straps and slung it on his back. He adjusted it with a shrug of his shoulders and a tug on his shirt to move a wrinkle from under one strap, then walked into the desert.
He took the same trail that Dario showed him, and several long hours later was at the location where the two ranch hands had caught them. Adan felt the healing scab on his cheek where the one man had struck him. “Not today,” he said to himself. Circling far around, staying in the canyon bottoms and not topping out on hills made for a longer trek, but Adan trudged on and never saw anyone else in the harsh landscape.
Circling all the way around the white hacienda added another hour of walking, and his legs felt it. He crept up to the hacienda’s back adobe perimeter wall and found a stack of cinder blocks at one corner. Moving with care, Adan eased up and looked into the yard. A leafy peach tree was slightly higher than the wall, and it shielded Adan’s movements so he could observe without being seen.
People talked and splashed in and around the pool, with Mike Hart, Ellis, RL, and five young women in small bikinis making up the group. Drinks sat on the tables, mostly orange juice and vodka it seemed. A large pail of ice cubes rested in the center. Adan could hear the conversations when he cupped a hand behind one ear and angled it toward them.
Mike said to one of the women, “Babe, you want to make us some more of those screwdrivers? You have the magic touch, girl.”
The woman looked about twenty, with large breasts and skinny legs, smiled and cooed, “As you wish.”
When she walked by Ellis, he smacked her on the butt, hard. She turned and said, “Hey, that hurt.”
“Make it fast, and quit wiggling your ass so much. That’s not where your talent lies.” He pointed at her breasts, “Use those babies.”
She didn’t say anything, but hurried to make the drinks. Ellis pointed at her breasts, indicating she should uncover them. She removed her bikini top to make the remainder of the drinks while topless. On the return, she gave the first drink to Ellis, and lowed her breasts so he could see them. Ellis grabbed one of the nipples between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed, making the woman wince and attempt to pull away, but he held fast, enjoying her pain.
When Mike saw tears in her eyes, he said, “Ellis, come on now. I need my drink.”
Ellis held it a second longer, then released her breast, saying, “Sure thing, Mike.” He wasn’t happy about obeying Mike Hart, Adan could tell.
When the old man, Winston Hart came out to join them, full highball glass in hand, Adan saw his chance. He dropped to the ground and trotted around the perimeter to the front door and entered in silence, alert and looking for any other people. Adan felt relief, he had the house to himself.
It felt so cool inside the home that he almost shivered as he walked down the hall to the room with the closed door, the one he’d noticed on the first visit, and the one the elder Hart skipped by while showing them the home. He tried the doorknob, and it opened without a sound. A large bedroom spread before him. It was either freshly cleaned and the bed made, or it had been that way for a while.
He saw several photos on the wall, and went for a closer look. His first glance sent something like an electric shock through him. The photos were all of his father, from different ages. The last two showed a portion of the photos ripped away where someone else had been in the photo with him, and in a part of the photo was one tier of the white church, just showing behind Vincent’s shoulder.
Adan opened a drawer on the nightstand and saw nothing, but he was curious because the drawer didn’t open well, almost like something was stuck behind it. He pulled out the drawer and searched. Nothing. Then, as he started to push it back in the slot, his hand went underneath the drawer to balance it, and he felt an envelope taped to the underside. Removing the drawer again, he turned it over and saw the plain five-by-eight manila envelope taped in place. The tape appeared yellowed, and some of the edges had come away from the wood, leaving the envelope sagging.
A sound came from the back door of the house; voices. Adan froze, listening. They were coming closer, walking down the long hallway. He made his choice. He tore the envelope from the drawer bottom and slid it behind his belt, under his shirt. His heart almost stopped when a shape passed by the open crack in the door. It was Mike, and a second later, Ellis walked by as well. They didn’t notice the door slightly ajar.
When his heart stopped hammering and his ears felt unstuffed, Adan closed the desk drawer and went to the crack to see when and where he could escape. His hands trembled, but he regained control, and thought of ways to escape.
When Mike and Ellis reached the living room, Adan slipped out of Vincent’s room and went the opposite way down the hall. He was halfway down it when the back door opened and he saw a shadow of someone else entering the house from the pool area. He looked left and right, and spotted the red room. Adan entered it just as the others came in from the back door.
Things were getting sweaty and Adan knew he couldn’t dodge everyone forever. He watched as the last group passed and went to Ellis and Mike in the living room. Adan slipped out of the door and hurried down the hall to the back door. He prayed no one else was outside, and stepped into the back yard, not stopping but going to the side gate and exiting as quiet as he could. Adan ran bent over, in a shuffling gait, and was soon out of sight of the white hacienda. Taking the same, longer route away from the mansion took a good while, but he persisted and only stopped to hide once when he spotted two armed men on a rise. They walked out of sight, and he continued, picking up the pace as he hurried toward Terlingua and safety.
An hour later, he stopped and rested in the shadow of an arroyo wall. The heat was a physical blow on his head and shoulders, stealing his breath and burning his nostrils when he inhaled, like when too close to a campfire. It was a few minutes before he cooled down, and then took out the manila folder from his waistband to open it.
The flap had been glued down, and the small aluminum wings covered it as well. They lifted easily with a finger, but the flap didn’t. Adan spit on it, hoping that would break the glue’s bond, but it didn’t. For some reason, he didn’t want to tear the envelope because he felt sure his father taped it under the drawer. It felt special, treasured to him. Whatever was inside it, well, that was a hidden treasure for the moment.
He would steam open the envelope when he returned to Terlingua. He put the envelope inside the waist of his jeans again, covering it with his shirt, and walked down the small arroyo to turn in the main direction toward Terlingua.
Two men on the far ridge, a half mile distant watched him with binoculars. Ben Zambrano said, “That’s the same kid we caught the other time out this way. The one I tapped in the face with my rifle stock.”
Anselmo said, “You did more than bop him, you knocked the shit out of that boy.”
Ben shrugged, “Maybe. But this one’s about to cross where the backpackers bringing in fentanyl are coming. If they run into each other, we have to drop him, maybe drop all of them.”
“No witnesses that way.”