I like to sit out here on this old back porch and think. Right about this time of day is always good, when the sun is still up but dropping slow and steady in the western sky. Everything is quiet as a church on Monday. Still and peaceful. So here I sit like this, thinking of back in the day, all the times me and Poppy used to have together. It’s always better when I close my eyes because the memory is more real then.
“For as far as you can see, Tyler, and then way on past that son. This is what they call the Llano Estacado. Wide open, barren and some say hostile, but I always been partial to it. This part of West Texas, and New Mexico too, well there ain’t nothin’ here boy. I mean nothin’. Even old Coronado said there was no trees, no water, no rocks bigger around than a man’s fist and nothin’ growin’ higher than a boy’s knees. Said it was a sea of grass, he did.”
Poppy was staring out at the land, shaking his head in wonder. I don’t say a whole lot, so I just wait for him, watch him close and hope that he keeps talking.
“Llano Estacado, that means Palisaded Plains in Spanish. This land is flat as a flapjack and it’s a region surrounded by what they call caprocks or escarpments. Those are just fancy words for a big wall of higher ground. You look way off into the distance, and you can see ‘em all around.”
As he speaks his arm sweeps slowly from left to right, then right to left. “The Llano is bigger than some entire states are and that’s the God’s honest truth.” He glances over at me and smiles while he’s talking. I think it’s his way of checking my eyes to see if I’m fading away. That sounds a little crazy, but now and then I just kinda check out for a bit and spend some time somewhere else.
That still happens, but whenever Poppy was talking, I almost always listened. I never got tired of the same stories. He could weave those words together like a tailor makes a fine suit.
His deep voice is like a slow song to me as he continues on. “It’s called the Staked Plains by others because of the tale told about Coronado, who was as lost as a body could be while wandering through these parts. Story goes, he had his men put stakes in the grass every once in a while, just so’s they had some kind of landmark. Track where they’d been. You follow?”
He stops and chuckles a little, then puts his weathered hand on my shoulder. “Can you imagine that, boy? That was back in middle of the 1500’s by God, and there weren’t no damn maps from Rand McNally to follow. Them ol’ boys were either a brave bunch or reckless as hell. Probably both. Them two traits go hand in hand more times than not.”
He leans in close to me and nods his head as he talks. Makes it seem like we was talking about something just between the two of us. Something important, that was like a secret only him and me know. Private like. Special. I suppose that’s why I love him so much.
He pats my shoulder then and sits back up straight, “Yup, and they was dressed in hot, heavy iron, too. Chest plates and metal hats and Lord knows what else. Yessir, them Conquistadors were decked out regal and all, but not suited right for explorin’ this kinda land, that’s for damn sure.”
Leaning forward he spits his tobacco wad out and reaches for the small bag of Levi Garrett in his jean vest. “Hell son, even the Commanch’ didn’t like the Llano, but they hid out here. Nobody bothered them out here. See, they didn’t really like nobody, even the other tribes, and nobody liked them. And that, well, that was just fine by them.” He stops and nods again. Smiles at me with that brown wrinkled face and searches my eyes. “That’s just the way it was.”
A barn swallow chirps close to me. I kinda jerk back into the here and now, open my eyes and look at the empty chair beside me. Back then, it seemed like Poppy and me was always on this porch looking out at the sea of grass. He’d be rocking and telling me those stories. Rocking and telling.
It was good medicine for me. Poppy seemed to understand me. He was the only man that I’d ever sit still for and concentrate on. Not because I had to, because I wanted to. He knew I didn’t like most people and knew they didn’t like me. I loved the man for that.
The first time my folks back in Lubbock sent me to Poppy’s was after me and Trev Murray got into it at school. He was always shoving me around. Callin’ me a retard and such. Well, I’d had enough one day and the fight was out back after everybody else went back inside after p.e. class was over. I showed him what for. He gave up early, but I didn’t stop. Hurt him pretty bad, I guess.
Then when they brought me back to Lubbock, later that summer, something else bad happened to the only friend I had at the time. Charley Duff and I went missing for three days. I came back alone. We were camping and got lost, or Charley did, I guess. Problem was I couldn’t remember what happened, but some folks thought I remembered just fine. They never did find Charley or figure it all out and I’m still not sure what happened either.
I guess that was what they call the final straw. So, old Judge Strickman sent me back here for good at age fourteen. Poppy said sure, he’d take me in after all of that mess but also because of my folks. They kind of gave up on me. Not like I blame them though. They died in a bad car crash on Interstate 27 shortly after that.
Ain’t proud to say it but as honest as the day is long, I didn’t really miss them much. They were more like an aunt and uncle to me or some kind of distant relatives. That’s just the way it was, no changing it.
So that’s why I’m sittin’ here on Poppy’s ranch in Cochran County, Texas. A big county that used to only have about three or four people per square mile. That was it. Today, I’ll bet you a nickel to a dime that it’s even less. Just wasn’t much out here for most kids then or now, but I wasn’t most kids.
I’m tired of thinking for now so I head inside. I need to eat something anyway and supper won’t fix itself.
~~~
Can’t remember when or where, but one time I heard a fella say, ‘what a difference a day makes’ and I didn’t understand what that really meant. I surely do now.
The next day a spring storm is building up in the west, still probably at least an hour or two away, but the sound really travels out here so you never know for sure. There is a constant low rumble and an occasional far-off crack of lightning.
Sounds like the storm is mumbling to me. Like it’s all pissed off and saying, “I’m coming for you Tyler Riggins.” It rolls that threat to me over and over, saying that it’s coming hard and telling me there’s gonna be hell to pay. I like a good storm and all, but this one is different. This one is angry and talking straight to me.
Like Poppy always said, the Llano is as flat as a flapjack, but every once in a while, there’ll be what’s called a playa. He told me all about them, too. He said the Commanch’ used them to hide in and ambush somebody, or used them to hunt, because animals would come to them when it rained. He told me that playa means dry lake, but these playas out here on the Llano ain’t the size a no lake, just a shallow depression maybe ten or twelve feet across the middle.
The one I’m lying in is about normal I’d say and can’t be more than eight to ten inches deep. Just enough to tuck down into a little. It works too, with the long grass and all, somebody can walk right up on you and never know you’re even there. I ain’t wearing nothin’ but some faded jeans, and I’m brown as a berry, so I’m blending right in.
It’s getting on towards dusk but there’s still plenty of light, and they’ve been after me steady for a while now. They drive the truck slow for a short spell, then stop and get out. Then they drive along slow again. I almost flanked ‘em twice by staying low, moving, stopping and moving again.
The one fella though, he knows what he’s doing. He ain’t waving his gun all over the place, and he’s watching everything. Real close like. I can tell he sees everything. He’s steady, just keeps coming, slow and measured. Might be a Texas Ranger too because I think I caught a far-off glimpse of a big star on his shirt. Whoever he is, the man means business.
Kip Milner, the County Sheriff who’s just dumber than a boot, is the other guy. He must of called the help in himself. It ain’t like calling for the law in a big town or city. Hell, there’s only two other deputies in all of Cochran County.
They’ve closed the gap on me too much. I’ll never be able to move from this spot now, they’re right on top of me. Unless I get real lucky and they go right past me. If they do, I might could get behind them but most likely, they’re gonna find me. Whatever happens, I’ll never leave the Llano Estacado. I just want them to go away, want people to leave me alone, but they never do.
~~~
This whole mess started with Milner coming by this morning to check on things. Milner said it was because it had been so long since anyone over in the small town of Bledsoe had seen Poppy. So, I went ahead and told him that Poppy had passed on. When I did, he just stared at me for a second with those squinty, close-set eyes of his.
“Been dead for almost a month now. He always told me he wanted to be buried out here on the ranch. There weren’t no more family left anyway. You know when he passed, it seemed like the world didn’t even blink for him. Poppy deserved better. Wasn’t right, but that’s the way it is, I s’pose.”
“How’d he die, Tyler? What’d you do with him?” Milner had cocked his head sideways a little and looked at me funny. Kind of like when my old dog Shep used to hear something only he could hear.
“I buried him a’course. Right around back. Made him the best dang headstone I could, fashioned it out of the marble from that tabletop.” I pointed to the empty frame of the oblong coffee table. “Carved his name and some words for him the best I could. Took most of a week to make it.”
“How’d he die, Tyler?” Milner repeated and had taken two steps back when he asked me again. He backed right into the wall and knocked down a dusty picture frame with a painting of wild mustangs on the prairie. It clattered down to the floor behind him. “I’ll uh…I’ll be needing to look out back where you buried him and all.”
He was all tensed up, and just watching him made me nervous. Made me mad, too, but I didn’t say anything. We stood there and just stared at each other. Then he wiped a hand across his face and pointed at me.
“You know, from day one I always said you were off kilter. What are ya now? Twenty-five or so? And still got the brains of a goddamn anvil. I told Poppy that many a time too, but he always backed you, always said you was just confused. That’s what’s wrong with people who trust too much, they just don’t ever imagine that —”
“You just shut your mouth right now. Don’t you talk about Poppy, even if it’s good talk. I don’t want to hear his name coming out of your mouth.”
“Uh huh.” Milner shook his head slowly and put his hands on his hips. “What the hell did you do to him, boy?” He was all puffed up now, scanning the room.
He started slowly down the hallway to Poppy’s bedroom like some kinda detective or something, and I took Poppy’s old Remington deer rifle off the wall. He heard me and turned around. He didn’t try to draw down, like I knew he wouldn’t. His arms shot up in the air quick like.
“Tyler. Whoa. Hey, now wait...” His eyes were like saucers as he lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “Ty, easy.” He had a dark, wet stain on his pants, spreading down his right leg. “Put that thing down, boy.”
“No, I ain’t gonna do that. I’m tired of looking at you.”
“Sweet Jesus boy, just take it easy. I’ll leave you alone. Okay then? I’m goin’ now. Right now.”
“I’d would a never done nothin’ to hurt Poppy, but he’s the only man I can say that about.” I looked at him hard and took a small step toward him. “I’m done talkin’ to you. Go on now.”
Out he went, gut bouncing as he backpedaled out the door and all the way to his cruiser. He didn’t look at me no more, either, just got in and drove off down the ranch road. The dust funneled and twirled away from the cruiser as it went.
I climbed up the rickety frame of the windmill Poppy had built for the well water, so many years ago. I watched Milner go but after about a minute his car stopped. He sat there for a bit, then headed off again to the northeast.
I was up on that windmill for most of the day with an old pair of Bushnell binoculars. Nothing came along, nothing at all. Just the way I like it. It was close to suppertime when I had started to climb down but out of the corner of my eye, I finally saw them coming.
On the horizon, at first it was only the dust boiling up and trailing off in the wind. After a bit though, I could see that it was Milner. There was also a black SUV with lights on top following the sheriff’s cruiser. They were both still way off in the distance, but they were coming just the same.
As I watched them, the dark storm clouds are building over in the western sky. I heard the first roll of low thunder coming across the plain. I guess that storm might be coming because of that little blue car, the one I parked in the barn. The one Sheriff Milner don’t even know about.
Three or four weeks ago, Poppy had died in his sleep. I buried him and all, but that same afternoon it had happened again. One of my bad spells. One of those times where I just kinda go away for a while. When these spells are coming on, or how long they’ll last, I never know. They just happen and I go off somewhere. I just leave.
When I came back to things that time, I was sitting at our old kitchen table. I might have been sittin’ there for a few hours or a full day, no way to tell. I was real dirty though, and there was dried blood all over my shirt and jeans. When I walked outside to get some air, I seen the blue Chevy parked out in front. Colorado license plates. I looked inside the car, and the front seats were covered in dried blood, too. Flies buzzing everywhere.
I walked around to the back of the ranch house and noticed that close to Poppy’s grave, there were two other mounds now. For more than a day I tried to remember, tried real hard. All I could come up with was a fuzzy scene of when that blue car had pulled up and me walking out on the front porch.
Then I was standing by the car. There was a young man and woman in it. They had a map all splayed out. They were squinting through the sun, smiling up at me. They were talking, but I couldn’t hear their voices.
That’s it, that’s all I got in my head about that car and them people. It’s probably best that way.
So, I figure this storm is coming because of those two other graves out back. It’s here and it’s warning me that my judgement day is coming. Judgement of some other things that I probably done in the past too, but don’t remember. I don’t know what to think about all that, but I reckon that I do know this, without Poppy around anymore, I’m lost anyway. Lost forever.
I raised the binoculars again and check the distance of the two cars approaching. That judgement is on its way. I made my way down off the windmill and headed on out, staying low and almost on all fours.
~~~
I’m snugged down into this playa even lower now.
A loud crack of lightning splinters the dark clouds above, and I watch Milner walking straight toward me from about forty yards away. He doesn’t see me, but even if he was smarter, he wouldn’t see me. I have the cross hairs of the Remington scope on his chest, and he makes his way closer.
The heavy thunder grumbles much louder and keeps rolling.
The two of them ain’t talking, and I can’t even see the other guy anymore. That’s a problem, but there ain’t nothing I can do about that. I can’t move at this point, they’re both way too close.
It’s getting dark and only part of it due to the time a day. The wind has picked up, and the long grass is waving back and forth. Another crash of lightning, this one so close it makes the hair on my arms stand up. I can smell it, too. A single fat drop of rain hits the top my head. One more hits my bare back.
Milner stops, scans to both sides and then looks right at me. Stares at me for about ten seconds and I almost shoot him, but he breaks off his look. He still doesn’t make me out and keeps walking straight ahead. He’s thirty yards away now and I’m ready.
Give him ten more steps. That’s what I tell myself, but Milner comes to a sudden, clumsy stop, almost tripping himself. He’s staring right over the top of where I’m lying and just off to my left, with big wide eyes. Scared eyes. He doesn’t raise his gun, though. He’s looking at something but it isn’t me.
I sense the other man just before I hear him speak.
“Tyler, I’m right behind you. I want you to take your trigger hand and put it on top of your head. Then toss the rifle away from you with your left.” His voice is calm, gravelly, and he’s got a heavy West Texas accent.
I don’t move, keeping the gun pegged on Milner.
“It’s over, son. You can go back with me now, and we’ll figure this thing out. Figure out whether we even got us a problem here. Sheriff Milner is out of this now, this is just you and me.”
“Yessir. It’s over, that’s a sure bet…so you a Ranger?”
“Name’s Reese. Captain Reese Talbot with the Texas Rangers in Company C, over in Lubbock. Okay, now listen Ty, I need you to do just like I told you, son. We’re going to work this thing out, whatever it is. Like I said, just you and me.”
“You sound like my Poppy.”
The Ranger doesn’t answer, and I know that time is short. A deafening double crack of lightning explodes about fifty yards away and I almost pulled the trigger out of reflex.
“Sir, I got nothin’ without Poppy. I didn’t do anything to him neither. Others maybe, but not him. I want you to know that, Ranger Talbot. I’m bad mixed up, always have been, but you tell ever’ body that I didn’t hurt Poppy.”
“All of us are mixed up in some way or another Ty. Now take your right hand away from the trigger and put it on your head…Do it.”
“No sir. I just can’t go with you. I can’t never leave here.”
Milner is still a frozen statue, mouth slightly open, standing in the grass. I can tell that he finally sees me now.
“I understand how you must be feeling son, but I have to take you in anyway. I got no choice. You surely know that’s the way it’s gotta be.”
“Well sir, I mean to put Milner down. I’m not a good man but he ain’t either. You do what you need to do. Make sure to end me though, Ranger. Don’t take me away from here alive.”
“Do what I said Tyler, and do it right the hell now. I won’t ask you again.” He didn’t sound like Poppy anymore. His voice is flat now, and his words are real matter of fact. I just know this Ranger will do his part in this and to me that’s a good thing.
I went up with the scope to Milner’s scared, stupid face, and then slowly back down to the center of his chest.
It finally started to rain. A hard, mean rain. Raining like there was no tomorrow, as they say. Then two shots boomed as one, across my sea of grass.
End