These Yellow Hills
These Yellow Hills
Boyd sighed deeply as he climbed into his ATV and fished for his keys. It was hot and dusty, and his sinuses were beginning to act up. But he couldn’t let his daughter down. Her beloved horse had gotten through the fence again and while he wouldn’t care that much personally if he never saw that brown bundle of aggravation again, his little girl loved that horse, so he had to find him. Abby was his eight-year old daughter and Buddy was her sorry excuse for a horse.
It was high noon and he was hungry, but his wife Susie would be back from Burger Barn with lunch soon. So he could eat when he got back, he hoped this little adventure wouldn’t last long.
Boyd was a Texan, born just outside Dallas and partial to paved streets and neatly mowed lawns of a small bedroom community. He wasn’t wealthy in the common sense of the word, but he had invested wisely in stocks and real estate. That along with his wife’s position with the School board had made this move to the country possible. Boyd was proud to be a Texan, but Abby was his little Equine Princess. There are some folks who are just born to the horse like other folks are born to water. From the time she first pulled up in her crib she dreamed of horses. She had every book on the subject they could find, and her walls and sheets were covered with dancing horses. She played with toy horses and dressed as a horse every Halloween. The happiest day of her life was when Buddy came to live with them. Truthfully that was why they bought their property out in the west Texas Hill country; it wasn’t really that much in the way of the “ranch” Abby wanted but the house as nice and there were five acres to keep Buddy in. The whole area was “horse centered” and there were many riding paths in easy access close by. What they hadn’t counted on was Buddy’s independent nature he seemed to have ideas of his own.
Boyd started at the fence where Buddy broke through and worked from there, down the edge of his property and across the open field where the town kids liked to play ball. From there it was any bodies guess. He really hoped Buddy hadn’t made it into the hills two or three miles beyond his house.
He remembered how excited Abby was on the day they had gone to pick up Buddy. The Breeder had been in a sort of a hurry which should have been a red flag. But for Abby it was love at first sight and even though she still couldn’t ride him she seemed satisfied to have him as a pet. He was skittish and ran away whenever he had the opportunity, but he loved to have her brush him and to eat the apples and sugar she provided.
Boyd wasn’t handsome in the usual sense of the word; he was a little overweight and a sparse crop of dark blond hair rested neatly against his large round head. But he was an intelligent man with a ready smile and bright, honest blue eyes. Most people who ever got to know him liked him. The driving force in Boyd’s life was his pretty wife Susie and his little girl Abby. They were the light of his life and the real reason for this day’s adventure.
He found no sign of Buddy anywhere near so he pointed his machine down the winding dirt path behind the ball field, there was no sign of Buddy, it looked like he was in for more than a late lunch, by now he was just hoping to be home by dinnertime. Half and hour later it cast a speculative glance into the hills and wished for the blessed chaos of Dallas Texas.
His ATV was new and had a good powerful motor, he pressed on the gas and it climbed like a happy mountain goat up the first of the yellow hills. It was early afternoon and he wished he had brought some water as he whistled for the horse. By late afternoon he was very tired and unsure of where he was, he had spent hours going up and down among the hills with no sign of the little brown horse. He reached for his phone to get a fix on his position with his GPS and it wasn’t in his pocket. In a panic he stood up and patted the perimeter of his shorts in search of it, then he remembered it was keeping company with his truck and house keys back home on his Kitchen table. Boyd was not a man given to swear but he did on that occasion.
It was time to give up his search and go home. He clicked the lights on his ATV and found them working well. Then studied the sinking sun to try to figure out where he was, he had a vague idea but wasn’t sure. Slowly and carefully he begun to try to make his way home. Unfortunately, he had forgotten to check his gas gauge before he left, he had no idea the search would take so long.
Back at his house Susie had begun to pace. “Momma, when are Daddy and Buddy coming home?” The little girl could read the worry in her Mother’s eyes. “Soon, baby soon!” Susie had found his phone on the kitchen table and was debating on whether she should call the police, but she didn’t want to come off as a hysterical wife, at least not yet. He may have just run into a friend and got side-tracked.
It was dark now and Boyd was out of gas, he tried to remember what to do in this kind of emergency, but his mind went blank. There was something about “staying with your vehicle” but he thought he remembered which way was east and he thought there would be a road in that direction. He sure didn’t want to spend the night out here. So, He started out walking more or less toward the east while he listened desperately for the sounds of road traffic. The rocks and the low bush and weeds made his traveling difficult but having no choice he soldiered on, thinking about how worried his wife and daughter must be. He was tired and hungry and a bit wobbly after such a day, he was not a man who was used to this kind of activity. “I need a walking stick to keep my balance and push away the brush” he thought. There on the ground in the semi-darkness lay a likely candidate for a walking stick, it was long, and dark and fairly straight.
He could not see it well enough to know that it was a big old Texas Papa Rattlesnake. His tired mind wasn’t thinking much when he gingerly stooped down and picked it up! He almost didn’t feel it when it quickly struck him on the arm. And his mind really didn’t comprehend when the darkness suddenly grew even darker and the ground rose up and hit him in the face.
Susie tucked her little girl sweetly in her horsy bed, read her a horsy story and turned off her horsy lamp. But Abby wasn’t ready to go to bed yet. “We have to pray for Daddy!” Susie agreed though she felt a little too worried to pray. She let Abby kneel on the carpet beside her bed and remind the Lord of their problems. “Lord please protect Daddy and Buddy and help them find their way home. Send your Angels to protect them and keep bad things from happening. Thank you, Jesus, Amen”. Susie smiled in spite of her worries and thought of her Grandma’s sweet old-fashioned imagination. When things settled down, she’d talk to her about easing up on all that religious stuff. It was cute and probably just a phase Abby was going through, but she wanted Abby to live in the real world.
It seemed to Boyd that he heard music from somewhere far away. Yes, it was a Spanish guitar playing some quiet sweet melody from long ago. He stirred but the darkness and pain weighed heavily on him, it was too heavy for him to rise and open his eyes. He drifted off again upon a chilly black sea, the music playing, playing somewhere in the distance.
Susie couldn’t sleep, she was constantly walking about and looking out the window. Every car on the road, every dog that barked, every sound of the wind or branches banging against the house made her rise from her bed to look out to watch for Boyd. Susie loved Boyd and this would seem like the longest night of her entire life.
Early the next morning she called the authorities and reported that her husband was missing. She told them that he had left to go into the hills on his ATV in search of their horse. They asked her invasive questions about their relationship and their friends, but she answered truthfully and insisted that she needed their help desperately.
As the bright mist of the morning broke through the darkness in the yellow hills. Boyd could smell something like wood burning and even though he felt sicker than he ever had before he thought it prudent to open his eyes and investigate. When he was able to assess his surroundings, he found that he was laying on a rough blanket by a robust campfire. Setting a little way to his left were a man and a woman he had never seen before.
Their camp was sparse with only a coffee pot and a kettle. There were two saddles not far from the fire and a log where the man sat and strummed his guitar. They were both decidedly of Spanish descent, but it was the woman who drew his attention.
She was a large beautiful woman with dark eyes that gave off sparks when you looked at her. Her head was crowned with a mass of jet-black curls which tumbled and flowed down her back like a waterfall after the snow melts. She wore a bright red scarf in her hair and her red skirt billowed far down almost to her bare feet like a giant down-turned Hibiscus flower covering copious petticoats. “Hola, Gringo, have you finished your siesta”? She smiled as she approached him and the numerous bracelets and bangles on her wrists and ankles made her jungle when she walked. In her hands she carried a little bowl of strange black paste.
“I am Lorena Malena Garcia” then she gestured at the then man with the guitar “and this of course is my Pepe.” At this she took his arm and began to liberally apply the black paste.
“What is that?” He asked as he pulled his arm away.
“Black Cohosh and charcoal” she answered, “It is the best thing for the snake bite Gringo.”
“Please! Just call 911 they will send someone to take me to the hospital.”
She looked at him strangely, “What is this Hospital you speak of? And why do you want me to shout 911”? She laughed and it sounded like the tinkle of some silver bells he’d heard on Christmas. “Silly Gringo! Did the snake bite your head?”
They looked at him blankly when he asked if they had a cell phone but when he mentioned the Police, they began to fidget. “por favor, no policía”.
“A car then, or a truck”? They gave no indication of understanding, so he decided there was a language barrier, but he felt to sick to push the issue. Presently he noticed the two scruffy-looking horses tied in the brush just beyond the circle of the campsite and beside them tethered to a branch was his little brown problem, Buddy. He thought of his daughter Abby and got excited “Oh, I see you have Buddy!” at this he started to rise, but the world spun around once more completely out of his control.
Abby bounded out of bed that morning as if it were her Birthday. ‘Mommy, Mommy! Are Daddy and Buddy home?” But her Mother was surrounded with uniformed men and the yard was filled with official looking ATVs, there were even a few dogs and the crackle of radios. The Texas hill country is still not a good place to spend the night if you are hurt, alone and without provisions. Abby was frightened by the commotion, but someone handed her a donut and sat her in front of the television to watch cartoons. Boyd was a prosperous citizen, there was even talk of calling in the Rangers.
“The Gringo is loco Pepe!” It seemed that Lorena was talking from somewhere inside of a fog bank and his head hurt in a way he had never experienced before. Pepe had not yet spoken a single word, but Boyd could hear his fingers making gentle love to the guitar strings, the man could really play his instrument.
“The snake has made him loco but maybe he will be better in a day or two. I will make him some soup.” The music rose like a sweet Latin lullaby and Boyd drifted off once again.
The authorities searched the hill country. Drones with heat sensors were used and the very best tracking dogs were brought in. They found Boyd’s ATV the very first day and the dogs alerted that he had walked off toward the east but that was the last thing they found about him. Volunteers came from all over the country and walked the hills in patterns and grids. The story made the newspaper and the evening news. “Prominent Stockbroker and Real Estate developer goes missing in Texas Hill country.” A few of their friends called to offer encouragement but that was all.
Abby prayed, Susie’s Grandma prayed, and Susie’s Grandma’s Church prayed. But Susie cried, she sat at her table and cried, she laid in her bed and cried and all through the long nights she stood at her window and cried. She cursed the day they’d moved from Dallas and bought that horse. Days passed and the searchers found nothing. Then finally the day came when there was a knock on the door and when she opened it, there stood a sad-faced deputy who explained that they had searched as long as they could and found nothing. It was then at long last Susie went into her bedroom, kneeled down by her bed, and prayed.
Boyd could not tell how much time had passed, only that he was very sick, and these two people treated him with much kindness. As he drifted in and out of consciousness and he thought of many things not the least of which was to wonder about them. They seemed to be traveling to some place, why were they willing to stop and help him? Why couldn’t he make them understand he needed them to call for help? Regardless, he wanted to reward them as soon as he felt better. He was sure he would have died out in the hills alone. He wondered why anyone would travel on horseback when there were so many better, faster ways to travel.
When he was finally feeling a little better, he fished the crisp new one-hundred-dollar bill he kept for emergencies out of his wallet and offered it to Lorena. She looked at it puzzled but smiled and handed it back to him. He pushed it back into her hand “Take it! Take the money”!
But I do know there is much in this world that we do not understand, and that God seems to prefer that way. We must trust him always to work for our good and to walk with us through times of crisis.
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