“Yeah.”
“And at least we can bruise them up a little while we take them in.”
The thought made Ben smile, if only for a few seconds. “Let’s get in position.” They went off the back of the ridge and drove slow so they didn’t raise much dust as they made a curving path across the desert. They came to the big hill as Dario and Adan reached the crest. The men drove up a long, sloping bench that took them to within fifty yards of the peak. A cluster of dark, sharp-edged boulders crowned the peak and the two men trotted to them, positioning themselves on the opposite side where the two boys would reach the top. Ben said, “Do we show our pistols?”
“You stay out of sight and I’ll step out, try to talk them into the vehicle. If they run, shoot in front of them.”
“And if they don’t stop?”
“Well, the jefe said we can’t kill ‘em because they’re kids. If they run, we ‘ll figure out what to do when the time comes.”
Ben scratched his chin stubble with a pinky fingernail so filled with grime it looked like a black crescent moon, “Sweet talk them good; I don’t feel like running up and down these hills like a goat. Too many rocks underfoot around here that make my ankles scream. This hill is covered in them.”
Anselmo said, “It’s like God scattered all the leftover rocks here.” Ben nodded as the boys appeared at the crest. They stopped to rest.
Ben said, “It’s showtime.” He talked loud as he stepped around the boulder to face them, “Hey, amigos, sorry about the little misunderstanding earlier.” Both boys backed away, “Wait! We have orders from our boss to treat you good and take you to the hacienda. That’s where you wanted to go, right?” He smiled to be disarming.
Dario and Adan glanced at one another, still uncertain, nervous as skittish deer. Ben said, “We have some lemonade at the house, some cookies, too. Then the Jefe would like to visit with you, maybe give you two a tour of the house. How would that be?”
The boys continued to back away, edging to the slope of the hill. Dario stepped on a round stone that rolled under his foot. He twisted his ankle, falling and yelping when he hit on one hip.
Ben moved fast and grabbed Dario’s arm as Adan lifted him from the other side. Anselmo stepped from behind the boulder and said, “He’s hurt. We need to get him to the paramedics at the hacienda.” He hurried and joined Ben, nudging Adan away as the two men moved Dario in the direction of their vehicle. Adan stepped back, mouth open. They outmaneuvered him, and now, unless he wanted to abandon his friend, he was as good as captured. He lagged behind, deliberately slipping and dropping to his hands and knees as they walked, and while down there palmed two round stones the size of golf balls, slipping them into his baggy pockets.
Ben came back for him, but Adan shrugged off the hand and continued on foot, staying close to Dario. He didn’t see the men glowering at his back, but Dario caught it. He whispered, “Careful. They’re planning to do something to you. I’ll help you watch.”
Anselmo cuffed Dario on the head, “Stop that whispering. Talk loud enough for us to hear, or shut up, you understand?” Dario nodded.
Adan said, “He was telling me you two looked like war heroes, that’s all.” The two men’s demeanors seemed to lighten at that. They reached the vehicle and Ben drove them off the hill, then followed the caliche road in a winding path through smaller hills and across dry washes. When they popped over a low rise, the great white adobe house sat before them. The house had a six-foot high adobe wall surrounding the backyard, enclosing three acres, and ending against the base of a small hill some hundred feet in height, and almost conical in shape. Next to the home was a farmed area with vegetables and fruit trees.
Bright green peppers showed clearly, as did the red tomatoes. Adan noticed the blue glimpse of a pool in the back yard.
They parked in a circular driveway in front of massive, carved double doors of dark wood. A maid opened one side and ushered them inside where an elderly man with fierce eyes and a scowl looked at the boys. He was very tall, well over six feet, and rangy in his build, like a gaunt wolf. “So, you want to see the white house, do you?”
Adan said, “Yes sir, if it isn’t too much trouble.”
“Why?”
Adan didn’t feel comfortable telling him the real reason, not with armed men behind him. “I heard great stories about it all my life.”
“Like what?”
He thought fast, “Rooms full of red crystals, red like the most beautiful sunset in the world.”
“What else?”
“Golden halls and statues, great rooms with tall ceilings, and a magical wind that keeps the house cool in the summer and warm in the winter and blows all the time.”
That made the tall man crack one corner of his mouth. “How about that.” He looked at the two men, “Let’s show these boys the AC.” As he led the way, he said over his shoulder, “My name is Winston Hart. What are your names?”
Adan and Dario told him and he nodded, although looking at Adan with more interest. “Where do you live, Adan?”
Adan lied, “Ojinaga.”
“And you’re over here with Dario, visiting?”
“Yes. We are friends.”
“Did you come across the International Bridge?”