A Multi Leveled Planet

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE MULTI-LEVELED PLANET (above ground)

CHAPTER SEVEN

From behind a tree, Leon watched as two men approached the camp. With each step it seemed the sky grew lighter and as they neared he could make out their black hair, both were stocky and shorter than he was. The man carrying the flashlight was half again heavier than the other, obviously a much younger man. He stepped out from behind the pinon tree.

“Hello there.”

The two men stopped, regarded each other for a second before coming closer, now at a far more wary walk.

The big one came to a stop a couple of yards from Leon, he placed his hands on his hips and stood silent for a moment, his deeply shadowed eyes roamed from Leon’s hair to his worn boots.

“A-mair-i-can-o?” His words, heavily accented confirmed what Leon was thinking, these men were native Mexicans.

“American, yes, uh… I mean si.” He wondered why he hadn’t taken the trouble to learn how to speak Spanish when he’d hired enough of them up from the border, over the years. Instead he’d always appointed one of those who already knew a fair amount of English. They relayed his orders to the others who harvested his crops, or planted them.

The Mexican chuckled before nodding. “Habla espanol?"

“No,” he was embarrassed to admit, “no habla Espanol, English, me,” he stabbed at his chest with his forefinger, “Habla English, no espanol.”

The heavier man nodded. “We-el you tried. I speak leetle English, my coo-sin, mi pri-mo here,” his thumb indicated the man next to him, “he no speek any English.” He pronounced ‘english’ as ain-gleesh.

“My name is Leon Walkers,” he held his hand out to the older man.

“Si, Senor Wal-kers, mi nombre’ es Manuel Lopez, this is my coo-sin, Ramon Guitirez.” He accepted Leon’s hand and they shook hands with a firm grip.

The other one shoved his hand at Leon, forcing him to shake his as well. At the touch of the Mexican, he felt that same uneasy feeling, wondering if the man resented the fact that his country would have to play host to possibly millions of 'Gringos'.

“Is… is it okay, for us camp on this land?”

“Si… si, camp… si, ho-kay Senor.” Manuel’s wide grin and nodding head reassured him.

“Thank you, uh… Gracias, Senor.”

“Si, si, soon Senor, you go?”

At Manuel’s words Leon felt an ice shard pierce his heart, was the man warning him off? Or did he just want him and his family to get away from there? He had no idea.

Ramon started chattering away in his native language, but Leon could tell he was unhappy about something. Manuel, on the other hand, seemed to be arguing with his cousin, he pushed his opened hands toward his kinsman, and shaking his head with force, he kept  saying, “no, no, no…”

“What is he saying?” Instead of Manuel answering his worried question, Ramon instead turned toward him.

“Reech man,” Ramon spit out in an angry tone, “Reech man, besamo pesos…doll-urs, por favor.”

Though Leon did not know what the man was saying exactly, he had a good idea of what the man wanted.

“No,” he shook his head vigorously by way of emphasizing what he was trying to say. “Me… uh… no money, no pesos, no rich man, me.”

The slight Mexican in the brightening dawn light seemed to grow more incensed. Manuel grabbed at his cousin’s arm, shouting in Spanish himself, but going so fast Leon couldn’t make out what the man was saying.

Then Ramon grabbed at Manuel’s arm and pointed, jabbing with his forefinger, at the van, still with the loaded trailer attached. With white spittle flying from the Ramon's mouth, he started yelling.
“Reech, reech man, Manuel!” Though Ramon spoke to Manuel, his eyes speared straight into Leon’s eyes. His meaning was clear.

“What’s the problem, Dad,” Josh’s voice startled them all.

Leon whirled around to see his son standing behind and slightly to the right of him.

“Seems like this gentleman,” he nodded toward the angry, now silent Ramon. He believes we are rich and he wants us, I believe, to share our riches with him.”

“Or take them completely away, period,” Josh drawled.

For the first time, Leon noticed Josh was holding his thirty-thirty deer rifle loosely in his hand, by no means threatening, but just the same he was showing he had a weapon.

“Don’t raise that gun, son, I don't want us to appear threatening."

“I’m not,” Josh answered, “but I know a little Spanish and he wants what he calls ‘his share’ of our ‘riches’. Seems, Dad, we've camped on his land, or his family's land.”


“Aw, Gees, Josh, now what?”


“Give him some money, maybe a ten. I think American dollars is worth a whole lot more in Mexican pesos.”

“Ramon, we will give you ten pesos for the night,” he turned and offered to the younger mexican.

The young man seemed to hesitate, then uttered, “A-mairie-can doe-llars?”

“Si,” Leon nodded,” he turned to point to his camp, “for one night, we will be leaving this morning.” The confusion reigning in Ramon’s eyes told Leon immediately Ramon understood very little of what he said.

Josh stepped up and quickly, and in halting high-school Spanish, explained what his father had said. Ramon took a deep breath, and though the fires in his eyes cooled slightly, Leon could see he wasn’t really happy with the offer.

“I think he wants more, Josh.”

Josh just shrugged his shoulders, “Don't we all? Don’t offer anymore.”


“But I don’t want trouble, son. I just want to get us out of here, as soon as possible!”

“Don’t give him anymore,” Josh warned, “he won’t be satisfied. Just hand him the ten and turn around. Mom’s packing already and we can just go.”

“Your mother’s up?”

“Since these two came up, yes. You don’t think Duke would let two strangers just walk up on us, do you?”

Leon’s eyebrows raised at that, he twisted around scanning the area around them. Sure enough, behind the same pinon he’d hid behind and watched the two men approach, Duke was sitting. Though not making a sound, the dog was showing his front teeth in a menacing doggy smile. If Ramon, or the other one, made a more ominous move, the dog would attack.

He turned back to see Manuel meeting his eyes. But in Manuel’s dark brown eyes, there was no threat, only worry. The man licked his lips, he was as nervous it seemed, as Leon was.

Then in one quick move, Manuel grabbed the ten dollars American from Leon’s right hand and pushed it at his cousin. Ramon, speaking in a loud voice and shaking his head tried to ignore it. Manuel shouted in his younger cousin’s ear, taking the young man’s arm, he shook it violently and again pushed the ten dollars into the younger man’s front left pocket.

Leon heard a low growl. "Get Duke, Josh."

Ramon’s face froze into a stone-like pout, but he patted the money with his right hand before, after a significant glare in Leon’s direction, then a quick glance at Josh restraining the dog, he turned and stomped off toward their waiting car.

Instantly the stress dissipated. Both Leon and Manuel heaved a sigh of relief.

“S-s-s-sorry Senor.”

“It is not your fault…” Josh interpreted his father’s words, his Spanish growing better by the minute as he followed Leon’s speech.

Afterward, Manuel offered Leon his hand again, Leon took it, squeezed it and turned it loose only for Manuel then to offer his hand to Josh. The two exchanged a few words in Spanish, Leon was at a loss as to what they said, and Manuel turned to catch up with his cousin.

Father and son, now with the dog standing at Josh’s right knee, watched the two men make their way back to their old car. Watched them get in, close both doors, and after a few low drones of the starting engine, they watched them make their way back along the road.

•          * *

Three hours later they reached the village, so far without any trouble with Ramon, or any friends of his.

“Think we’ve seen the last of him?” Leon wondered aloud, tossing the words over his shoulder in Josh’s direction in the back seat.

“I don’t know, Dad,” the teen sighed loudly enough for his parents to hear, “but if we can get through this little town, maybe we have.”

“Yeah,” Leon nodded slightly, “that’s sort of the way I was thinking.”

“Maybe we ought to stop at the local police station,” Martha said in what she thought was a logical line of advice.

Josh chuckled behind them, “Mom, I doubt if there is a local police station here. We’ll have to wait until we get to a larger town, and by that time it will probably be alright, anyway.”

“Look!” Josh cried in excitement. “Something is coming down from the sky!”

Leon looked up at a sky he’d noticed earlier, had lost all the blue of the day before. Though closer toward mid-day, where the sun burned down from above, only sooty clouds tinged in surly reds and oranges could be seen. The air itself seemed to be full of a fine gritty ash. Looking behind them with the rear-view mirror, he could see a light layer of the stuff  already blanketing the tarp covering his load of belongings. The ash had finally made it all the way down south into Old Mexico. He couldn’t help but wonder what his small ranch looked like right now.

“Close the windows,” he ordered his wife and son while rolling his own window.

“If we are going to travel with the windows up,” Martha said as she rolled her own window up, “we’ll have to run the air-conditioner. It’s going to get hot in here fast.”

“Huh-uh,” Leon shook his head. “The ash will stop the motor and air condition up solid. We’re going to have to find someplace to stop until the ash-fall stops, or at least slows down some.

Preferably,” he added, “under some barn roof, or anything that will keep as much as possible off the car.”

“Dad, they said in school that when a volcano sends ash down on people’s heads it was usually the weight of the ash that collapsed roofs down onto them. If we park the car under…”

“Yes, you’re right, son. But I am hoping it won’t get that heavy all the way down here, and besides,” he added, “I’d really, like to get out from under this as soon as possible.”

“Well, if we are going to hide somewhere, I think we’d better do it and fast, Leon,” Martha urged, her pretty face marred by the strain of worry. “That stuff is getting heavier by the minute.”

“Okay, each of us can keep their eyes moving to spot a barn or something that will not only give us some relief from the ash-fall.

* * *

An hour later they pulled under a huge old oak, easily the largest tree around. At the outermost edge of town, Leon eased his van and trailer underneath the tree, which had low branches that scratched along the top of the van’s roof. Leon could feel himself wince, imagining great long scratches marring the van’s once perfect finish.

He glanced at his watch, it was only a little after two, and still a long time until nightfall. He’d noticed as he’d neared the tree a few minutes earlier the ash layer was barely discernible under the thick leaves of the Oak.

In every barn, other refugees were packed in so tightly there was no room for even one more. Even if he unloaded the trailer from the van, there was no room. In fact other trees, none as big as this one, were also packed out beneath their branches.

He turned his car-radio on but the only thing that would come out of it was some fast Spanish song with all the words meaningless to him, and besides, the static was so bad it wasn't worth listening to.

He twisted the dial but to no avail, frustrated he clicked it off. The silence seemed to roar at them. The ash muffled any small sound, it seemed everyone in the world was gone but them..