the search

at 4 a.m. it was pitch black dark with a slight breeze. in the south the lightning was forked and lighting up the skys over the papago reservation. in the brief  flashes of light sheets of falling rain could be seen. the clouds and humidity had settled over the desert like a woolen blanket. dark and oppresive. sam bender sat on his porch looking south and feeling the moisture in the air and hoping that rain down south made it to his dried out desert ranch. his dirt tanks were almost dry, the grass was dry and brittle covered with dust. his cows were in dire straights.
     the night before he and sissy had set up sipping beer and eating her meal of enchaladas.  at length he had questioned her about the missing back pack that the coyote had stashed before sam had been forced to shoot him.  she had told him that they started out from the mexican town of altar with four other mules. the name they used for people carring drugs or other contraband. the closer they got to the drop off and pick up spot the coyote had murdered, one after another until only he and sissy were left. when they had come upon sam benders camp that nite the coyote had taken his back pack out into the dark and stashed it. when the coyote had acosted sam with a long, wicked looking knife sam had shot the smuggler.  sissy wasnt sure where the missing back was but it had to be close to the camp site as the coyote wasnt gone long before approaching sam.
    sam had decided to search around the camp site and then use the back pack as leverage to be able to keep sissy around. he had become slightly attatched to her. and she seemed happy with him he didnt need the border patrol hauling her away.
  as daylight started breaking and sam could discern shapes he saddled his horse at the barn and left him munching oats while he went to the house for breakfast.  sissy was standing at the stove scrambling eggs and stirring in chorezo sausage . on the back burner of the stove a small pot of refried beans gurgled along with the coffee pot. filling a cup with the black , boiling brew sissy set it on the table along with a knife and fork. then  turnned back to the stove and filled a plate with the eggs, sausage and beans then placed it with a fresh . hot home made torilla on the table.  sam was always amazed at the cleanlyness of the girl even at 4:30 in the morning she looked fresh and clean with a fresh smell about her. she had used a old serape to make herself a robe and had braided baler twine into a sash to hold it shut. she worked around the kitchen bare footed and her long, black hair tied back out of her face with a red bandana from sams chest of drawers.
        after telling her to stay out of sight and keep a eye out for anyone who might show up, snooping. she understood the seriousness of the situation after sam explained the type of person rigsby was.  she showed no outward fear but sam felt there was a element of fear in her speech.
    as he stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind him he heard the dead bolt click shut. as he rode out of the yard headed down south to the bender well and corrals he was watching about for anything that was out of place. he feared that the dea agent rigsby  would materialize at anytime.  sam didnt want to kill anymore people . after nam he never wanted to even think about the act of taking another human life. then the coyote had forced the issue.  sam felt no guilt in the act, to him it was just survival.  that was the only way he could look at it with out loosing his sanity. but  if rigsby was to push the issue, sam felt he may have to make a exception of him. he was a greater enemy to the country than the north viet namese ever were.  rigsby had sold out his own fellow soldiers for the dollar. and men had died.  sam shook his head and rode south into the storm. he was going to get wet and he was looking forward to it.