Blue Man by John L. Moore

Author:John L. Moore [Moore, John L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BookLocker.com, Inc.
Published: 2021-07-13T00:00:00+00:00

33

Ezra stepped off Quincy and stared up at the sky. An airliner going west had sketched a contrail that crossed the trail of an aircraft going east. The intersection appeared like the crosshairs in a rifle scope.

The westbound jet, Ezra guessed, was destined for Seattle. The eastbound, perhaps Chicago. He liked to imagine the passengers in those seats. How different was his life from theirs? He’d flown enough to dislike flying, and he detested airport terminals. You didn’t need to watch zombie movies to see half-dead, gray-faced humans stumbling mindlessly after nothing.

Cynical, but true. Few people in airport terminals looked healthy, especially the traveling businessmen. The advantage they did have, other than speed, was perspective. Having seen his ranch from the air many times, Ezra knew how small, brown, bare, and valueless it could look. You had to lie on the dirt to love it or trod it horseback and hear the rhymic hoofbeats hitting the soil.

The weather remained atypically warm for November. The pundits blamed Climate Change, and radicals blamed cattle for that. Cow flatulence, they said. Ezra had never heard a cow pass gas. Belching, perhaps. Once he caught the Wildebeest, he’d ask her about cow biology.

Anne would love this weather, Ezra thought. She’d happily call it Indian summer and give God the glory while walking the creek, playing in her flowerbeds, and raking leaves. The nights were mild, so reservoirs only skimmed with ice—which a cow could break with its nose. The Wildebeest was not going thirsty.

He thought about Barney Wallace. His friend was sharp enough to realize the truck trade—and the deer hunter’s reason for it—was legitimate. But Barney was also wise enough not to dig too deep. If Ezra needed help, even a gun hand, Barney would be there. Until then, Barn Wall preferred a life uncomplicated by serious chaos. Not-so-serious chaos was different. He thrived on that.

Ezra thought of Mary Margaret Hall and wished he and Anne could have met her under better circumstances. Anne and Mary Margaret would blend like Coke and rum. As it was, he knew Ms. Hall was not immune from her uncle’s retributions. He hoped she’d keep her distance from Ezra, the ranch, and discussions about jets and dreams.

Finally, there was Davis Browne. Browne would arrive at the destination he needed, Ezra knew, but he’d fall short of his hoped-for goal. That was the problem with gamblers: they had trouble distinguishing between needs and desires.

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