Generations in Agony...Texas: Chapter Eleven

11) Tying off loose ends at the Esso…

Charlie had the station open a good twenty minutes before Caleb managed to get himself up and at the day. Carrying coffee and chewing on one of those new Pop-tarts, he thought about CiCi’s cooking, missing it as much as he missed the good ole days; when not everybody in town knew he was homosexual. The term: Gay, had never occurred to Caleb. Everyone around his part of the world still used the word ‘queer’ as slang for men who like to have sex with other men.

He heard the air compressor coming to life and knew Charlie must already be in the shop. As he thought this, one of the rear doors went up, and he saw Charlie waving at him as he pulled the chain, grease already on one of his cheeks.

“Morning, Charlie…”

“Morning, Caleb…”
“Ready to get that truck finished up?”

“You bet.”

“The old man’ll be coming by early, if I’m guessing right. Let’s fire it up and adjust the idle.”

“Yes, sir.” He smiled and watch the boy run around in the shop. The place looked impressive: clean and organized. Caleb already dreaded the day when Charlie would have to start school. It made him wonder if the kid would want to work afternoons…

The motor on the old Chevy roared to life; the idle was too high, the mix too rich. It threatened to choke off, but Charlie kept gunning it while Caleb made his way over and leaned on the fender. “Let off on the gas, Charlie!”

Five minutes later, Caleb had it dialed in to top-dead-center. He plugged in his timing light and pointed it at the front belt, nodding approval as the timing spot glowed perfectly under the rapidly strobing instrument. “That’s it, you wanna back it out?”

Charlie grinned and nodded. He eased the old truck out of the bay and backed it across the lot to the side and just in front of the trailer. Hopping out, he ran to the back to check his position with the ball on the bumper and the hitch of the horse trailer—they had disconnected it last night before bringing it in the shop.

He was slightly off center, so he jumped back in the cab and inched forward, then turned and re-aligned, coming within an inch this time, close enough for the hitch to drop over the ball as he cranked the trailer back down and set the lock pin.

Happy with himself, the fact that he had worked on his grandfather’s truck, Charlie felt a grand sense of pride as he cut off the engine, then gave a once around the vehicle, wiping spots here and there, especially around the fenders where Caleb tended to leave grease marks while making adjustments.

Just as he finished wiping the last spot, he heard horse hooves clopping. The sounds came from back down toward the dirt portion of the road. He rose up and peered over the other trucks and trailers. Sure enough, there came Carl Speck Sr. Only, he was leading another horse and…

Charlie backed away from the truck and walked back to the office. “Here he comes, Caleb.”

“Who?”

“My…’um, Mr. Speck.”

“Need me to help you hitch the trailer?”

“No, I got it.”

“What’s wrong?” Caleb looked up and saw how Charlie looked: unsettled.

The boy shrugged. “I don’t know…but, he’s leading another horse.”

“So?”

“So, the other horse has…at least I think it has…”

“Spit it out, Charlie.”

“It has a body over it.”

“What…?” Caleb stood up and joined Charlie as they watched for Carl Speck to come around the parked trucks and trailers. A moment later, they saw the man’s hat, then his head, then all of him, including that beautiful palomino cutter. Sure enough, Carl was leading another horse, and, as Charlie had thought, a body lay dangling over the back, hands and feet tied together under it. “Good god.” Caleb said.

“I thought so,” Charlie added, placing his hands on his hips.

Carl Speck merely nodded at Caleb, almost in passing. “Might be a while before I can pick up the truck, Caleb.”

“It’s ready when you are, Mr. Speck.”

“Isn’t that Mulligan’s horse?” Charlie said as the procession went by. “Pilot, I could swear that’s him.”

“Could be,” Caleb said.

“Wonder what happened?”

“No idea, Charlie. But, it don’t look good.”
*