BRICK WALLS

Brick didn’t carry a gun with him anymore. There was no reason to. In his youth he enjoyed hunting. He couldn’t wait for hunting season to arrive. The feel of the gun…the thrill of the hunt…the stories of the kill, but that’s all changed now. Witnessing the horrors of death and destruction of war gave Brick a different outlook on life. Now he chooses to let the wildlife run and live. No more killing. Hunting would never be his passion again. The two companions walked further into the mesquite trees until the foliage was over Brick’s head in places and the grass was so thick it was hard to get through. The sky above was light blue with just a few wispy, thin white clouds stretched out overhead in the distance. The mockingbirds and the blue jays were being their noisy selves, as usual, but Brick didn’t care. He loved going out there every morning to experience the peace of nature, much like his mom did when she was in her garden. He thought again about how much he wished his parents were still alive to enjoy this moment with him. Red brought Brick back to the present with his joyful barking. The big setter was in his element, chasing rabbits and bounding through the underbrush with a huge grin on his face and his tongue flopping out the side of his mouth. Red scattered a covey of quail and came running back to Brick’s side, as happy as he could be. It’s as if he was saying, “Look what I did!” Brick laughed and gave the dog a big pet on the head, then continued their walk. They had almost reached the near side of the meadow when Brick heard the sound of an approaching light plane. He looked up to see a single engine Cessna flying very low, and it was apparent it was going to land in the meadow. “That’s a funny place to be landing. I wonder if the pilot is in trouble. “ Brick watched the plane land and taxi to the far end of the meadow and turn back in the direction from which it had come. The plane came to a stop, but the engine continued to idle. From the far side appeared a truck with two Mexicans in it driving up to the airplane. As they jumped out, a man stepped down from out of the airplane with a very large suitcase. He motioned to the men to show him the contents of their truck, which they did. He said something to the two men, which Brick could not disseminate and showed them where the cargo area was located in the plane. As they started loading the packages into the airplane, Sheriff Mendez was watching this through his binoculars and noticed the man from the plane had one hand behind his back. He also noticed a bulge in his shirt. “Damn,” thought Mendez. “He has a pistol. He was going to do to us what we’re going to do to him.” Had the sheriff moved his binoculars a little more to the right, he would have seen two figures watching the whole thing.