Chapter 8 Returning to Big Bird in the Baby
Musical theme: Samba Pa Ti by Santana
Dave got on the phone, and lined out Billy Mouse and Harlan Wright for the next day, to help load Rastafarian.
“I’m not going to need any help to load Rastafarian.”
“I hope you’re right. I didn’t call Candellaria. I’m going to get Marti to make lunch.” He made that call, and Marti agreed to be there.
She took the left lane, and passed a skateboard hauling a trackhoe. The driver gave Dave a thumbs up.
“What is that?” She was wearing a tight sweater and her Stetsun hat.
“He likes your paint job, and he thinks you’re cute, I imagine.”
“And am I cute?”
“Is it cold on Pluto?”
“I imagine it is. What’s the surface temperature?”
“My telescope can’t see Pluto & Charon, so I haven’t paid much attention to it.”
“You actually don’t know?”
“It’s probably like 10 degrees Kelvin. I actually don’t know.”
“Why is it Pluto & Charon?”
“Charon is Pluto’s satellite, but it’s 1/3 the size of Pluto, and orbits very close, so you see them as one object.”
“You can take over somewhere west of Shreveport?”
“Sure.”
“Get back there and get some rest so you can. I will log you in.”
He got into the sleeper. “You’re not supposed to do another driver’s log.”
“You married me without finding out I don’t give a damn what the law is?”
“Do it just like I do, though.”
“Got to keep the pigs happy.”
“They do accident scenes. That’s no fun.”
“They spend 95% of their time doing armed robberies. Ripping people off with speeding tickets and crap. Fuck them.”
She was looking over the mirrors and gauges, angry at the idea that some full grown was out there with a radar gun. Dave let it go, and started to doze off.
“He’s not a bad horse. He has been mistreated. That’s why he let me off easy. Not your threats.”
“Be careful. He stayed as far away from me as he could after he threw you. Maybe he just likes you and is afraid of me, but I doubt it. He takes treats from me without compunction. No, maybe that is not quite right.”
“He knows you hold something against him, but he is smart for a horse. He isn’t a cat. A cat would know. Henry would know, wouldn’t he?”
“Henry would know. You have yet to be introduced.”
“He is in some little cage out there.”
“You will see he is not. His place is a steel roof barn. 80 x 120 feet. Marti feeds him and makes sure the water is on. She’s afraid of him, though.”
“But you’re not.”
“Afraid of Henry? No.”
“I’m not afraid of Rastafarian. Henry could maul you, maybe even kill you, but you don’t think it will happen. You trust him. I trust Rastafarian.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“If it was one on one, which would win, Rastafarian or Henry?”
“Henry would kill Rasta without getting a scratch on him.”
“So who trusts the most dangerous animal? You with the leopard, or me with the horse?”
“Dangerous to whom? I fell asleep once in Henry’s house, and when I woke up, he was laying alongside me with his head on my lap. Henry is just a really big house cat.”
“He is a leopard. He is not a house cat. Has he even had his shots?
“Of course he has.”
“So you have a crooked vet, too.”
“He isn’t crooked. He likes Henry as much as you will when you get to know him.”
“So am I wrong?”
“No. A horse that killed a cowboy on purpose is not as dangerous as a leopard who licks my face. You’re right.”
“I don’t like sarcasm. Can you remember that?”
“I suppose I can.”
The next thing Dave remembered hearing was the puff of the air brakes being locked. It’s a comforting sound, because a truck with air brakes is not going to move after they are locked. Not, at least, until a bulldozer comes to move it, wheels sliding.
“Dave, we’re at Kirby’s truck stop.”
He got up and put his shoes on. He followed her into the store, and they parted at the rest rooms. He peed, and then washed his hands and face. He looked all right in the mirror. He went out, and got a cup of coffee in his beat up plastic mug. He found Jainie at the fuel desk. “We’re still pumping. Do we need anything? I would like you to drive the rest of the way in.”
“I don’t think we need anything. I’m ready to take her on in.” He went out and cleaned the windshield, then got behind the wheel. A driver in the next fuel aisle said something, and he rolled the window down to see what she had said. She stepped up on the running board, holding the handle by the door, and complimented Dave on the paint.
“Do y’all like the Volvo? I’m thinking of buying one.”
“We would buy it again, driver. We like it a lot. Jainie had it customized, but they make it easier than most trucks. We have a little reefer and such like. Take a look if you like.”
Jainie came just as the woman got in the passenger side. She came up and opened the door. “There is a woman every time I leave you alone?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I was just looking at your truck.”
“I invited her to do so, Jainie.”
The driver held her hand out to Jainie. “I’m Ellen. That’s my rig there. I was thinking of buying a Volvo. Your husband says y’all are satisfied with yours.”
“Oh, more than that, Ellen. We really like it. We paid 152 for it, and then I forget exactly, but I put about 20 more into all the custom stuff.”
There was some kind of female bonding thing going on, the jealousy done with.
“Under 175 anyway? I could live with that.”
Jainie handed her a business card. “I can fax you the places we dealt with and all, make sure you know, well, what they just did so you don’t pay too much.”
“I appreciate that, Jainie. When I get ready to buy, I will probably text you. Oh. Y’all have a ranch in Wyoming. That’s so neat. Is it nice up there?”
“Prettiest ranch in America. You come by and see it some time if you get a run that way.”
“I’m a gypsy, so you never know.”
“Would you pull that trailer?”
“Never hauled livestock.”
“Nothing to it. Just smells worse than your van.”
“Well, I would be glad to bid on your work, but I doubt I could come in too good, because I would need to leave the van somewhere and then go back for it.”
“We’ll see. You could leave a trailer at our place and we might not even notice it for a week. We have space up there. Also in Texas. Big Bird.”
“I might want a place to park a trailer in Big Bird.”
Jainie looked at Dave. He said “Ellen, we don’t have any security on the place in Big Bird, but it’s pretty safe, and you can put a trailer there any time you like. No charge.” He pointed to the Baby’s business card, which had the addresses of both ranches on it.
Ellen looked at it. “Ooh! Right on the highway. Y’all are the folks to know!”
She turned to step down. “Call us anytime, Ellen.” Jainie said.
“I will.” She got into her own rig, and pulled out.
“Seems pretty nice.” Jainie said.
“I think so. She might be good for the cows to Emporia, Kansas.”
Jainie flicked into the sleeper in the sort of gymnastic way she did such things.
“Take us to Big Bird, James.”
Dave got on the ramp, and ran up through the gears. They were headed home. Day turned to night, and they went on. Eventually, the signs of Big Bird came up. They went on out to Dave’s place, and parked near the barn. They went in and made a light dinner.
“Is it too late to see Henry?”
“He’s more nocturnal than us. No.”
“Is it safe at night?”
“Sure. It’s those killer horses you never get near at night.”
They went past the barn to Henry’s house. Dave unlocked the outer door, and after they were in, he relocked it. Then he unlocked the inner door, and they went in. He locked that one as well. “If someone has a key, they don’t inadvertently open both doors. Henry might get out, and someone would shoot him.”
There was a half growl, half meow sound. Thumps on the planks that were across ceiling joists, and etc. Henry was there. He rubbed against Dave’s leg, almost knocking him down. “Henry you silly kitty!” Dave sat on the floor. Henry put his paws on Dave’s leg, and started licking Dave’s face. “This is that dangerous cat.” Jillian walked up, and Henry took a swipe at her, cutting her arm with his claws. He backed away, snarling.
“Back slowly toward the door. He will be up on the planks, and he might jump down. I don’t know why he did that.”
She backed to the inner door. Dave came and unlocked it. They went through, and he locked it again. He opened the outer door. They went through, and he locked it, too. He knelt, and looked at her arm. “The injury is not bad, but how it happened is serious. We will need to disinfect it thoroughly. Cat scratches can get infected. I don’t understand what he did. I mean, why he did it.”
“I’m female. But I still don’t get it. He’s a male, for sure?”
“Yes. For sure. Whatever it was, he has to go. I’ll look into how you sell a black market leopard.”
An hour later, there were some guys who didn’t look like they worked for a church group. They shot Henry with a tranquilizer gun, and put him in a cage in the back of a bobtail van. They left.
In the morning, a crew came and cleared the building of the ramps and things from up by the ceiling. They stacked lumber on some rail ties outside, and one of them ran a rototiller around the dirt floor, then dressed in rain gear, and took the fire hose and washed the inside of the roof, the walls, and wetted the ground. He went out and washed the lumber.
Dave got the truck. He pulled into the drive, turned around, and backed up to the stock gate. He stopped, set the brakes, and went back to open the trailer gates, locked them back, and backed up to about an inch from the gate. He set the brake again and made a little huffing sound with the air horn.
“Showoff.”
“When you can do it, Jainie, you go ahead and let everyone know you can. They will know anyway.”
Jainie jumped out of the truck while Dave climbed down. Marti opened the house door. Billy Mouse and Harlan Wright were there. Billy spoke up. “When do you want to load up?”
“When you like.” He nibbled on a taco.
Jainie, who wanted to put the hammer down, smiled. “We have all night to go, anyway.” She cut bits off her enchilada.
Harlan looked up from his meal. “It doesn’t much matter how long we hang around with Marti feeding us like this.”
Marti glowed. “I just threw a few things together.’
Dave put the compliment in overdrive. “Marti, you just keep on throwing things together if it comes out like this.”
Jainie, who was eating at the rate of an enchilada an hour, piped up. “You’re the greatest, Marti.”
Marti drifted into the kitchen, pleased but sort of embarrassed by the compliments. Dave, who knew no more about women than a cat knows about astronomy, except that he liked having them around, had a theory that they liked being complimented, even to the point where they blushed, and that they liked that, too.
“Does anyone want coffee? Dave?”
“Not me. I’m going to get a little rest, and this little wildcat is going to run for Wyoming. I’ll have to get up late tonight to finish up the trip.”
The wildcat smiled. “None for me, Marti. Thanks for asking.” She went back to her enchilada. A sparrow could have eaten it as fast.
Harlan and Billy did want coffee. Like most cowhands, they drank it all day and all night. For some reason, it never kept them awake.
Billy Mouse and Harlan Wright put Rastafarian into the stock trailer. They got paid in cash.
“Let’s take the Baby to Wyoming. We have some cows to pick up.”
“I’m ready.” Her hands were shaking. He gripped one of them to stop it. He walked to the truck. He checked the tires, and saw that Rastafarian was correctly loaded. “Not a bad day. We’ll make some miles today. Probably have Rastafarian in Wyoming by morning, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, we should.”
“I’m sorry about our argument back there. I was wrong. We will just forget it like we always do, though.”
He let her loose. “I’ll start out so you don’t get lost getting out of Texas.”
She smiled.
They got into the truck. He put it in gear, and they took off down the highway.
“I don’t know but what I like this part of a run the best. You know, when you head on down the highway. Maybe the best is after you pick up the load.”
“I like it then. When you are logging some miles that matter. It makes me feel like, now I am doing something.” She pushed her hair back.
“Well, we need to get to Wyoming before we really make anything. But we have that lady you found at the truck stop, I think she will be good for running stock down to Kansas.”
“You were worried about me driving truck, though.”
“I was. I still don’t want you on the road all the time. It is a dangerous life.”
“Compared to the sandbox?”
“No.” He shook his head.
“If they ever ask you to do it again, they can fuck off.”
“Yeah, you’re right. That is what I would have told them anyway. My patriotism, if that is what it was, it’s gone. But anyway, it’s a great day, and we are headed to Wyoming.”
“Have you heard from Kevin?”
“Not since he saved me from seeing my wife on a 400 dirt bike.”
“What’s such a big deal about a 400?”
“Too much power. Kinetic energy, the energy of motion, is ½ mass times velocity squared. At twice the speed, you have four times the kinetic energy. The 400 takes you into the range where your KE is enough to do so much damage that you probably cannot survive. This is professional motocross racers, I am talking about. Full leathers and helmets, and they know how to fall. When Rasta tossed you, you knew how to fall from a horse, so you just got some bruises.”
“And you kissed them, made them better.”
“But someone who had never fallen off a horse would have likely broken a bone. That is, I probably would have.”
“You could have been a rodeo cowboy, Dave.”
“No. I’m too big. Your size works against you. Did you know you can’t kill a mouse by throwing it off a skyscraper? The terminal velocity of a mouse is not fast enough to kill it when it hits.”
“What is terminal velocity?”
“A falling object has two main forces acting on it. Gravity, and wind resistance. When those two forces become equal, the object begins to fall at a stable rate. That is terminal velocity. It’s how fast the object can fall.”
“So what does that have to do with falling off a horse?”
“Nathanial Blake is a lot smaller than me. God knows he has a million other things going for him why he was a cowboy’s cowboy, but if you scale up Nate, and you have a guy twice his height, that guy would be twice as high, twice as wide, and twice as thick, and would weigh 8 times as much. But the cross section of a bone would only be 2 times 2, that is four times as strong. He would be ½ as strong for his size. Nathanial Blake could take a fall and walk away when the bigger guy would be busted up. That’s why an ant can pick up another ant like it was nothing, when a 250 pound man has to be very strong to pick up a man his own size.”
“Do you think I was right to hire Nathanial Blake?”
“Of course you were. He has a tremendous work ethic, experience, knowledge, and the respect of his peers. On top of that, the industry that profits from the Nathanial Blakes of the world, being us, has an obligation to see that they don’t suffer in poverty when they get old. We are making more than we deserve, he is making less. So he gets old, we give him a job and we don’t ask for one second if he is worth what we pay him. He deserves a good job, and you did the right thing.”
“Kevin Lake said the same thing, although he was not as articulate as you. Then again, who is?”
“Kevin has an off the chart IQ, but he never learned how to talk like it. He is just as smart as I am.”
“It’s nice of you to say so, but he is not. I’ve been a fan of smart men all my life, Dave, and you are by far the smartest man I have ever met. Kevin is kind, honorable, and sure, he is intelligent, but he’s not smart enough to talk like a smart guy. You are brilliant in every field of thought. I don’t say that because I love you, it’s probably the other way around. Remember when we were on the road, and I asked you what tintinnabulation meant?”
“Yeah.”
“What did you say?”
“I thought it was some kind of a sound thing. And I remembered that tinnitus is ringing in the ear, so I said it was probably from the same Latin root, and it was probably something like a ringing sound. And I said I was going to order an unabridged for your library at the ranch, which I did. It cost us like $390 I think it was, and the antique stand we got for it was about $240 on eBay, but it’s really nice.”
“And what did you say about tintinnabulation before we had that dictionary, which by the way, you were right about it having a lot of great grammar and pronunciation aids.”
“I’m not tracking the question.”
“Yes you are, Dave. Answer it.”
“I said it was a poet’s word. That nobody would really use it otherwise.”
“And I asked you to guess what kind of sound it referred to.”
“You did, OK.”
“And you said?”
“That it probably referred to the sound of ringing bells, but I did not know.”
“So I got on the phone and I called five English professors. I asked them what
tintinnabulation meant. How many of them knew, I mean, they all got out their dictionaries, but how many knew without a dictionary?”
“I’ll guess four. What’s your point?”
“The correct answer is one. And he said he thought it was a ringing or rattling sound.”
“That’s pretty good.”
“Yeah, but it isn’t shit next to you, Dave. Not one linked it to the Latin root, which, by the way, you were right about that, too.”
“So I got lucky with tintinnabulation. I told you we were going to get an unabridged so you could look up stuff like that.”
It gets better. What did you say about tintinnabulation, as a word?”
“Nobody uses it. It’s a poet’s word.”
“Where did I find it?”
“You didn’t say.”
“I was reading a poem, Dave. And I looked it up on Internet, and found five references, all of them in poems.”
“Well, I must have been real lucky, because as you know, I don’t like poetry.”
“You know more English than the English professors. But you’re a mathematician. You can see the solar system in real time, and convert it to longitude and latitude in your head. Every science or technology question I ask you, you say ‘oh, I think it’s something like…’ and give me the exact right answer. What is inconel?”
“A high temperature nickel based superalloy used in jet engines. You’re getting to a point?”
“Why aren’t people like you running the world?”
“We don’t want to.”
“So you are driving a truck, taking cattle to be made into hamburgers, and meanwhile the stupid people are running the world?”
“I don’t want to run the world. Stupid egotistical jerks want to run the world, so they do. Why am I responsible for doing a job I do not want for people who would not appreciate it? I should devote my energy to seeking something I don’t want, and making people who resent me for being smarter than them have a government better than they deserve? This would be my life’s mission? FDR was the last one of us to put out that effort. He stopped the depression, saved the world from fascism, and died in office.”
“What is your life going to accomplish?”
“A man’s life does not accomplish anything. I’m going to be good to my wife, haul some cattle to market, and then I will be gone. If I treat my wife right, I will be ahead of 99% of the men on the planet. Being smarter doesn’t mean anything.”
“You don’t think the fittest will survive?”
“Wrong question, so you get the wrong answer. The dinosaurs ran the world for 200 million years or something. Man won’t make the first million before he blows the whole thing up and leaves it to the cockroaches. Intelligence would be a positive for survival if the average human had an Einstein IQ, but with an average of Stanford Binet 100, it won’t work. Just smart enough to create culture and not smart enough to direct it to a good end. Smart enough to create problems, but not to solve them. Humanity is doomed, Jainie. I’m not wading into quicksand to try to pull a bulldozer out when everyone else thinks it should keep going the way it is. I care about you, and I have all I can do to look out for you without worrying about things I have no ability to change.”
“I’m your excuse?”
“Not at all. You’re my reason for caring about anything. So far as the vast project of humanity, it is doomed to failure, and I am not going into the quicksand after it.”
“What if everyone was like that?”
“It would be the same. But if everyone thought, then there would be a change. They would not try to drive through the swamp in the first place.”