they shot and killed a federal judge. I guess he concerned em. Add to that that there’s peace officers along this border gettin rich off of narcotics. That’s a painful thing to know. Or it is for me. I dont believe that was true even ten years ago. A crooked peace officer is just a damned abomination. That’s all you can say about it. He’s ten times worse than the criminal. And this aint goin away. And that’s about the only thing I do know. It aint goin away. Where would it go to?
And this may sound ignorant but I think for me the worst of it is knowin that probably the only reason I’m even still alive is that they have no respect for me. And that’s very painful. Very painful. It has done got way beyond anything you might of thought about even a few years ago. Here a while back they found a DC-4 over in Presidio County. Just settin out in the desert. They had come in there of a night and graded out a sort of landin strip and set out rows of tarbarrels for lights but there was no way you could of flown that thing back out of there. It was stripped out to the walls. Just had a pilot’s seat in it. You could smell the marijuana, you didnt need no dog. Well the sheriff over there—and I wont say his name—he wanted to get set up and nail em when they come back for the plane and finally somebody told him that they wasnt nobody comin back. Never had been. When he finally understood what it was they was tellin him he just got real quiet and then he turned around and got in his car and left.
When they was havin them dope wars down across the border you could not buy a half quart masonjar nowheres. To put up your preserves and such. Your chow chow. They wasnt none to be had. What it was they was usin them jars to put handgrenades in. If you flew over somebody’s house or compound and you dropped grenades on em they’d go off fore they hit the ground. So what they done was they’d pull the pin and stick em down in the jar and screw the lid back on. Then whenever they hit the ground the glass’d break and release the spoon. The lever. They would preload cases of them things. Hard to believe that a man would ride around at night in a small plane with a cargo such as that, but they done it.
I think if you were Satan and you were settin around tryin to think up somethin that would just bring the human race to its knees what you would probably come up with is narcotics. Maybe he did. I told that to somebody at breakfast the other mornin and they asked me if I believed in Satan. I said Well that aint the point. And they said I know but do you? I had to think about that. I guess as a boy I did. Come the middle years my belief I reckon had waned somewhat. Now I’m startin to lean back the other way. He explains a lot of things that otherwise dont have no explanation. Or not to me they dont.
Moss set the case in the booth and eased himself in after it. He lifted the menu from the wire rack where it stood along with the mustard and ketchup. She scooted into the booth opposite. He didnt look up. What are you havin, he said.
I dont know. I aint looked at the menu.
He spun the menu around and slid it in front of her and turned and looked for the waitress.
What are you? the girl said.
What am I havin?
No. What are you. Are you a character?
He studied her. The only people I know that know what a character is, he said, is other characters.
I might just be a fellow traveler.
Fellow traveler.
Yeah.
Well you are now.
You’re hurt, aint you?
What makes you say that?
You cant hardly walk.
Maybe it’s just a old war injury.
I dont think so. What happened to you?
You mean lately?
Yeah. Lately.
You dont need to know.
Why not?
I dont want you gettin all excited on me.
What makes you think I’d get excited?
Cause bad girls like bad boys. What are you goin to have?
I dont know. What is it you do?
Three weeks ago I was a law abidin citizen. Workin a nine to five job. Eight to