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Civilian Militias, Texas Horny Toads And The Border Lands Civilian Militias, Texas Horny Toads And The Border Lands
by Leah Sellers
2014-08-15 09:49:45
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“Jake, what are you doin’ ?”  Jim Bob asked his younger Citizen’s Militia guard duty partner.
 
“I’m practicing’, Jim Bob.  This is the first time I’ve really messed around with my Grand-daddy’s Colt 45 and handmade leather hip holster.  I’m still pretty slow on the draw, but I’m gettin’ pretty good at some ‘ole Roy Rogers tricks.  Watch me twirl this pistol around with some fancy handwork, and shoot the left arm off of that cactus over yonder.”
 
“Huh, isn’t that the way ‘ole Roy’s horse, Trigger, wound up shot dead and stuffed for posterity by some ‘ole stuffy taxidermist ?  I doubt that ‘ole Roy’s hankerin’ for a little Gun-Fun made Trigger happy.  I heard that they played “Happy Trails to You” at the palomino’s funeral.”
 
“Where do you come up with such guff, Jim Bob ?  Now, watch this.”  Jake began to awkwardly twirl his Grand-daddy’s Colt 45 around in quick circles on his forefinger.
 
“Ka-pow !”
 
“What the heck !”  Jake shouted out while jumping back.  “Good Lord !  How did that happen ?  There’s blood on the ground.  Do you see a bullet hole in me anywhere, Jim Bob ?”
 
“If there’s a hole anywhere on you, Jake, it’s in your head,”  Jim Bob muttered as he stooped down to pick something up off of the sandy ground.
 
“Why looky here, Jake, you have kilt yourself a Horny Toad.  Now, that’s what I call one lucky wild shot.”  Jim Bob held what was left of the bottom half of the collaterally damaged Horny Toad up in the air by the tip of its limp tail.
 
“You blew this little varmint plumb in half with your Grand-daddy’s Colt 45, with that little parlor trick of yours, Jake.  You may have missed the cactus and your toes altogether, but you have made your first kill with that pistol, Pard.”
 
“Shttt….do you hear that, Jim Bob ?  There’s somethin’ movin’ around in the sagebrush over to the right of us.”
 
“Probably the Grand-daddy of this here cold-blooded Horny Toad that you just kilt in cold blood, hee-hee,”  Jim Bob sniggered while carelessly dropping the mutilated half of the Horny Toad’s carcass in the dust.
 
“Gol durn it, Jake.  You’re right.  There is somethin’ movin’ around in those bushes over there,”  Jim Bob said with agitated surprise.
 
“Alright.  You there.  You better hold on up or you’ll wind up like this little ‘ole Horny Toad beneath my feet.  Stop !  Dead in your tracks or we’ll fire !”
Jim Bob growled loudly and deliberately.
 
“It’s a little Boy and a little Girl, Jim Bob.  They’re just kids,”  Jake said.
 
“Are their calves as big as cantalopes ?  Could be Dope Runners for some Cartel,” Jim Bob quipped gruffly.
 
“They’re just two scared, skinny kids, Jim Bob,”  Jake reiterated.
 
“They’re Immigrants.  Illegal Immigrants.  They’re the Enemy, Jake, and don’t you forget it,”  Jim Bob snarled.
 
“You kids just hold your hands up high over your heads.  Go on now.  Do it !  Jim Bob ordered.  “Jake you frisk ‘em.  See if they’ve got any weapons on ‘em.”  Jim Bob waved his deer hunting rifle around in the air in the direction of the two frightened Children.  “I told you two to put your hands up over your heads, and I meant it.  Do it, and do it now !”
 
“I don’t think they understand what you’re sayin’, Jim Bob, and I’m not gonna frisk these kids.  They’re scared to death of us.  They’re not goin’ to try anything,”  Jake argued.
 
“Gol durn it !  You Illegals want to live here in our country, you gotta’ learn English.  Comprendo ?”  Jim Bob said angrily.
 
“I believe that’s supposed to be Comprende, Jim Bob,” Jake corrected.
 
The two scared, skinny Children stared wide-eyed at the barrel of the big American’s rifle.  Each clinging tightly to the other, not daring to speak or move.
 
“They’re just kids, Jim Bob.  Why don’t you stop wavin’ that rifle around at ‘em.  They don’t look very dangerous to me.  They look weak, dirty and starved near to death,”  Jake suggested.
 
“Maybe you’re right, Jake.  Okay, you two turn right around and high-tail it back to wherever you came from.  You’re not wanted nor welcome in these parts,”  Jim Bob barked.
 
“Jim Bob, that desert out there is huge.  Huge and unfriendly,”  Jake said.
 
“They made it across the Border in the first place didn’t they or they wouldn’t be standin’ here shakin’ in their worn out sneakers right here in front of us, now would they ?  They can just turn right back around and make it all the way back to their own homes.  I’m sick and tired of ’em stealin’ our Jobs, our Money and our Way of Life,”  Jim Bob complained loudly.
 
“Jim Bob, these are just kids.  They couldn’t be much over 10 or 12 years old.  We can’t just leave ’em out in the desert to die.  It’s not Christian.”  Jake said.
 
“This comin’ from a man who hasn’t set foot in a church door in over a year,”  Jim Bob snorted.
 
“Be that as it may.  I’m still a Christian in my Heart, and in my Soul.  And so are you last time I checked,”  Jake replied evenly.
 
“They should’a thought of that before they left home.  Alright, I’ve had enough jawin’ on the topic at hand.  You two, turn around and git !”  Jim Bob pointed his rifle more assertively at the Children.
 
“No !  No !  Stop !  You kids come with me.  I’m takin’ you to the government people,”  Jake stepped in between the Children, Jim Bob and Jim Bob’s rifle.  “You point that rifle down at the ground right now, Jim Bob.  I mean it.  Before that thing goes off and somethin’ terrible happens that we‘ll all regret.”
 
“You mean like murderin’ some little innocent Horny Toad or somethin’ akin to that ?”  Jim Bob asked sarcastically.  Jim Bob lowered his rifle saying, “You are crazy in the head, Jake.  They’ll just do a little paper work on ‘em and let ‘em go.”
 
“I don’t care.  I’m not gonna’ allow anything or anyone to hurt these kids.  They need our help, Jim Bob.  Just look at ‘em.  They’re a mess.  How would you feel if you had to send your kids away from home or if they just ran away from home for whatever reason ?  How would you want Strangers to treat your Children ?”
 
“These are not my kids, and I would never tell my kids to leave home.  These kids don’t have good parents or they wouldn’t be standin’ here shiverin’ at the end of my rifle to begin with,”  Jake answered agitatedly.
 
“I’m through arguin’ with you about this, Jim Bob.  I’m puttin’ these kids into my truck and handin’ them over to the government folks,”  Jake said firmly.
 
“You are such a yella’-bellied, chicken livered coward, Jake.  You’re a traitor to your own people.  I never should’a agreed to partner up with you on this watch,”  Jim Bob said disgustedly.
 
“You might feel unlucky bein’ with me, Jim Bob.  But I’ll bet these two kids aren’t gonna’ feel that way in couple of hours from now when I get them to safety, and that‘s what matters most to me,”  Jake said assertively.
 
“You go on ahead without me, Jake.  I’ve got plenty of supplies and water in my gunny sack.  I’m gonna’ stay on patrol.”
 
“Have it your way, Jim Bob.”  Jake approached the two frightened and exhausted Children smiling and said, “Y’all follow me.”
 
They did not move.
 
Jake walked over to the Children and wrapped his arms around them both.  He then picked them up off of the ground, and tucked each Child under his two strong arms.
 
“See how skinny they are, Jim Bob.  They’re nothin’ but skin and bones.  These kids aren’t Drug Runners.  In fact, they’re probably Runnin’ away from the Drug Runners.”
 
“You are such a Patsy, Jake.  Go on. Git out’a here with those gol-durned Illegal Immigrant Munchkins.”
 
“See ya’ later, Jim Bob.  Give my best to Betty Jo and the kids when you get home later on.”
 
With that, Jake took off toward his blue pick-up truck with the two dangling and confused Children swaying to-and-fro at his sides.  Jake walked and the Children swayed right past the bloodied, decaying carcass of the shot-in-two Horny Toad.
 
“You kids are light as feathers.  I think we’ll stop at mi Casa and get my wife, Peggy Joy, to rustle up some grub for y’all to eat, before I turn you kids into the government folks,”  Jake said as he helped the Children into his pick-up truck.  “There’s gotta’ be somethin’ powerful wrong goin’ on down in your neck of the woods for your parents to send you off on such a wild goose chase to our Borders.  Somethin’ powerful wrong.”


    
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