Jack Maxwell sat on the deck overlooking the Arizona desert
sipping on a bottle of whiskey and smoking a joint intermittently in between.
His portable radio by his side was tuned to FM radio titan KJAX
repeating song after song of his Sixties favorites. "Walk right in, sit right down, Daddy let your mind roll
on" it rang out as he surveyed the scene in front of him and its echo
filled the air while he mumbled the lyrics. He pondered many things in the morning. It was a routine
that he enjoyed in his solitude residing in Mesquite in the desert early
mornings when temperatures were mild and pleasant, watching the dawn of a new
day as the sun peeked out on the horizon. Jack had few visitors at his modest
estate he wistfully named the Ranchita. In actuality most of his visitors were
residents as well...scorpions and rattlesnakes and a host of other dangers out
in the vast expanse of the desert field. Jack often marveled at the diversity
of life surrounding him in his self imposed isolation. Surrounded by deadly
hunters and predators of different sizes and shapes. For instance , despite its
size the scorpion can easily defeat a rattlesnake on the arrid battlefield with
its venom that liquifies the insides of its prey. Even the smallest creatures
had survival strategies. Size wasn't always an advantage. Jack had learned
that, living in the desert.
Far off in the distance, on the edge of the horizon
Jack noticed the movement of three small dots approaching from the North below
the mosaic backdrop of red and grey foothills.
He estimated that at their present rate his visitors on horseback would arrive at midday. Meanwhile he made preparations to greet his unexpected quests and offer them hospitality. "Must be tourists horseback riding lost way out here. If nothing else they'll need water," he thought. "Must have taken a wrong turn in Vegas," he joked to himself.
He estimated that at their present rate his visitors on horseback would arrive at midday. Meanwhile he made preparations to greet his unexpected quests and offer them hospitality. "Must be tourists horseback riding lost way out here. If nothing else they'll need water," he thought. "Must have taken a wrong turn in Vegas," he joked to himself.
Jack got up from his comfortable seat positioned on the apex of
his deck and began the task of collecting water for the horses. "I hope
they're not expecting a three course meal. This ain't no bed and
breakfast," he thought.
Just as he predicted, two men on horseback
with a third mount in tow, who could have passed as young Hispanics but who were
in fact Indian scouts, arrived at his doorstep at noonday. Remaining on their
horses they waited for Jack to approach them. When Jack seemed satisfied that
they were harmless he stepped out on to his porch taking off his wide brim hat
in the process and laying it aside. " You fellas seem a little lost to me.
Is there something I can do for you?,"he asked. " Where you're
standing is private property. The main road is somewhere in that
direction," he said pointing vaguely in the air.
" We seek the man Enkoodabaoo. We have traveled three cycles from our village to ask for his
help. His name is Jack, the Enkoodabaoo. I am called Chitto and this is my
brother Maska. We seek audience with the one named Jack... the man who
lives alone...Jack Dangerfield. Only he can help us.
Jack expressed confusion at their declaration.
"Jack?...that would be me alright but you've got
some of it wrong. I'm afraid you've been misinformed. I am Jack, some
call me Cadillac Jack, but Jack Dangerfield... well, he’s somebody else
altogether. You see Jack Dangerfield is a character I created. He's not real.”
The scouts looked at one another with consternation and
then Maska replied.
"We don't understand. You are Jack, the one who
lives alone and traverses the sky and time itself. Jack Dangerfield travels the
stars and confers with the great wind spirit. He counsels with the sky people
and angels. In our dreams we are told that only he can help us. We have
come to plead with you to save us from the Maccapitew.”
Jack’s confusion continued.
"Wait, hold on...the Macca whatchoo? Is that some kind of
wild animal around these parts that I'm not aware of yet? That sounds like an
animal control issue and their office is in town”
Chitto seemed impatient with Jack’s response and
his eyes expressed frustration. “Maccapitew is our Indian word for “monster .”
“ Wait, monster you say?” Jack questioned. “You've got
more explaining to do ,Cheetos."
"That's Chitto sir, not Cheetos."
"Yeah sorry about that. I don't hear so good these days.
Look, why don't you and Maska here hop down and come inside. You must be tired
from the ride and all."
Chitto and Maska dismounted their horses and both wiped the
sweat from their brows.
Jack sensed that he needed to be more hospitable.
"Maska, tie them off and give them water. You’ve got some fine
looking horses there. They look like they have a lot of spirit.”
Chitto smiled , “yes Cisco and Poncho have been raised
from colts and the other called Banjo , he is also a fine steed. All three have
served us well. My brother Maska was responsible for training them and caring
for them since they were young. Maska is also known as Felipe since he is a
lover of horses. I too am known as Miguel. It is my non-Indian name. I hope
that doesn’t confuse you Jack.”
“No , I get it.” Jack answered,” It’s Indian stuff. No need to
explain. How long have you two been riding to get here? Your mounts must be
exhausted. And why three horses? Did you bring a spare?”
“A spare? Why no Jack, you see Banjo... Banjo is for you.” Chitto said.
Jack thought a moment as he eyed the horse Banjo up and
down. “Oh fellas, I’ve got to tell you the last horse I ever rode was painted
and going round and round on a carousel in New Orleans. I’m not sure I’m up for
a three day ride on horseback if that’s what you have in mind. No offense I
hope. Nothing against Banjo personally. I’m sure any Indian scout or brave would be proud to ride him.”
Jack reached over and stroked Banjo and examined the beautiful blanket
and saddle on his back as if perhaps silently reconsidering the proposition but
then suddenly snapping back to reality.
"No ... no...As I was saying I'm sorry you've got it all
wrong. My name is Jack, but Jack Dangerfield is fictional...he's made up. You
see, I’m a writer and all that stuff about space and time... it’s just fiction.
Even after his explanation he saw that they did not understand. “But I'm
curious, why did you come all this way to ask for help? How did you hear about
me?""
Chitto stood silent for a moment and then turned to face Jack.
“It is you Jack who does not understand. Our story is brief but we come to you
because our tribe, The Paiutes, is in danger and soon many more people could
die. You must think we are crazy but I tell you, our dreams do not lie.
You are the one Enkoodabaoo and you have been chosen by the
Great Spirit to free us from the giant.”
“Wait a minute. Did you just say “giant?”
Like in The Beanstalk.” Chitto and Maska both looked at one
another puzzled by Jack’s words. “I hate to tell you but giants aren’t any more
real than Jack Dangerfield and even if they were , one thing you need to
understand , this Jack, the one you’re looking at now?... doesn’t do giants.
Just for the sake of argument, how big is this so-called giant anyway? Maybe this thing is just really tall and
would benefit from wearing loafers or something. Did you ever think of that ,
fellas?”
Chitto answered impatiently, “This thing is a warrior from a
long lost tribe called the Si-Te-Cah. They were a tribe of red haired
giants from centuries ago. But what you also don’t know is that, from those
times, the giants took women from our tribe who then gave birth to strange
offspring who themselves became giants.”
“That’s a great story, Tonto, but if that was centuries ago what
does that have to do with us?”
“My name is Chitto, Sir.”
“Whatever....what is your point?” Jack pleaded.
“Maska, hand me the bag.” Chitto demanded. His brother reached
inside his saddlebag and produced a pouch containing what appeared to be an
Indian relic. Chitto held it up and revealed its shine and sparkle to the
puzzled Jack. Chitto continued,“This amulet is sacred to our people. The stone
is priceless, but this is only part of the story.”
Chitto took a deep breath and continued as Maska listened
intently to the story he already knew. Jack sat quietly rubbing the whiskers on
his face as he considered the facts being revealed to him.
“My family was cursed by the Si-Te-Cah bloodline. This giant is
the last remnant of that curse. He is our brother. Years ago our mother brought
him to a cave in the wilderness when he was just a newborn baby. She knew the
curse had returned. You see , it had two sets of teeth like the giants from before.
Our mother could not bring herself to kill it so she abandoned it deep inside
the cave to die on its own. She regrets profoundly what she has done,
but it does not change the need to destroy it.“
“Hmm, not exactly mother of the year.” Jack said somberly. “ So
what you’re saying is this...this giant guy is actually your long lost
estranged brother through some kind of freak of nature...”
“A curse.” Maska said impatiently. “We tried to end it but it
survived in the wild and now that years have passed, it has grown larger and
more dangerous. Now it has ventured out from the cave and eats our crops and
livestock. It will not stop with that though.
The Si-Te-Cah were cannibals and our brother, this giant, is
too.”
Jack rose up from his seat and paced the room while
rubbing his scruffy cheeks in a discerning manner as if plotting a plan of
action. “Frito...Mitchell...?”
“That’s Chitto and Maska, sir.... and I should say that our
names are not that difficult to remember.”
“Right, right, sorry about that. It’s late and it’s been
a long day for sure.” Jack said.
“Surely no longer than ours Jack. We’ve been riding close
to three days.”
“Good point , Chachi, lets get some grub.” Jack proposed.
The day turned into evening and the three enjoyed a tasty
meal of turtle soup and cabbage while sitting around an open fire before
turning in.
“Miguel, Felipe... I’ve just got to ask. You know, we live in peculiar times, strange days indeed,
wouldn’t you say? Please don’t take this the wrong way but let’s say I accept
the premise of your story. Why would you need me at all? I couldn’t help but
notice. You’re not carrying any weapons! Why not? Why don’t you brave Indians
ride out to this giant’s place and shoot him. Bam, end of story, man! Can you guys explain that to me?”
“How can you not understand? You are the
Enkoodabaoo. “ Chitto continued. “My tribe has lived many years in the desert
and our ancestors hundreds of years before and one thing we know is that the desert holds many mysteries. It is a magical place. Is this not why you are here?
The Paiutes are a peaceful people and we seek to understand the ways of the
Great Spirit that commands the earth and sky. In the desert the spirit calls to
many to fulfill their greater purpose. Some would call it their destiny. We, my brother and I have been
told in our dreams that you and you alone can defeat the monster that threatens
us. You, Jack Dangerfield have been chosen by the Great Spirit. Surely you have
sensed it in your own dreams and have expected it to come to pass.”
Jack rose up from his chair and scratched his head. “I honestly can’t say that I have but for the reasons I have tried to explain to you already. You guys are freaking me out. You realize that this is a pretty tall tale. You’ve gotta give me a minute to think this thing through.” Jack walked over to the window and looked out into the ever increasing darkness of the desert dusk and pondered the situation now put before him. Chitto and Maska observed him while he stood there silent. Doubt and discernment played back and forth in his head as Jack sought to decide what to do, and finally it came to him.
Jack rose up from his chair and scratched his head. “I honestly can’t say that I have but for the reasons I have tried to explain to you already. You guys are freaking me out. You realize that this is a pretty tall tale. You’ve gotta give me a minute to think this thing through.” Jack walked over to the window and looked out into the ever increasing darkness of the desert dusk and pondered the situation now put before him. Chitto and Maska observed him while he stood there silent. Doubt and discernment played back and forth in his head as Jack sought to decide what to do, and finally it came to him.
“You know boys, you need a 50lb nutsack for this
kind of mission.” Jack said sternly.
“Yes, Jack. Both Maska and I realize it takes great courage and
strength to win such a battle.” Chitto replied.
“That’s not what I mean though, yes ...bravery and strength but
mostly ingenuity. I buy 50lbs of walnuts on some occasions and they come in
these burlap sacks. I’ve got a dozen of them in my shed. I have an idea how to
use them." Jack continued. "We'll need provisions. You two can bed down here tonight and
we'll leave at first light tomorrow. Now, about the horses... I’m not too keen on riding for three
days so here’s plan B. We take my Caddy with my trailer hitch for the horses
and we make a side trip into town before heading out into the desert. There’s
some things we need from Home Depot and Guns R Us maybe even the zoo downtown, but we'll figure that out later. Sleep tight compadres, I hope you brought your big boy panties for
tomorrow we ride."
Chitto and Maska glanced at one another and smiled.
Chitto and Maska glanced at one another and smiled.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteA very enjoyable tale pushing creative license to it’s limit and beyond...” Jack Said as he put down his Nexium and glass of milk.
ReplyDeleteThanks a lot man. This pretty much satisfies any desire I had to become a part of a fictional character of my own devising, “Jack ‘T.’ Dangerfield.” That said, I’m quite sure Jack will find a way to vanquish Makkapitew for
That “Indian Cracker” Cheeto otherwise known as Chitto.
I have been “immortalized” by an immortal author!
Confirms what I have always thought...
“There is more than one way to skin a Mountain Lion.” HA!