Copyright 2006, Terry F. Phillips Sr.
All rights reserved
July can be hot anywhere. It is doubly so on a secluded ranch in New Mexico.
Eddie was used to the easy life. He liked living in Chicago. Though it gave him the creeps, he liked having a beautiful girl like Barbara admire him - even if she were so many years his senior- and was in fact - his ancient relative.
“That is one feeling that Freud would have a field day with,” Eddie thought.
Watching the newspaper classified ads and talking to various people around town, Eddie learned that the Brazel ranch might hire temporary help. Mr. Brazel was a nice guy and he was known to be a good citizen. Perhaps if Eddie worked on his sympathy, he might at least be able to stay with the other hands until he rendezvoused with the time ship.
He didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary on the ranch, so he waited until July 1, 1947, to talk to the ranch foreman.
The foreman looked him over, acted as if he were disgusted, and didn’t say anything.
“I really need this job,” Eddie told him. “I’m on my way to California. I have a job waiting for me in a nightclub there and I don’t have the money to make it the rest of the way. Please, give me a chance. Just for a week or so, then, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll take my pay and be on my way.”
“Well, I guess I can’t expect a dandy like you to ride the rails, can I? You wouldn’t last eight hours on the rails with them ‘bos, would you?
“All right. You know where the ranch is? Good. Show up at the office at 6 a.m. tomorrow and we’ll see if there is anything you can do - besides sing.”
With that, he spat a long string of brown tobacco juice, not far from Eddie’s shoes.