1

POT OF GOLD

Wind driven sand swept over the road. Tumble weeds raced

across the desert to the horizon. Hector Jimenez bent over the

wheel of his old pickup truck, squinting through the dusty cracked

windshield, eyes darting back and forth, trying to distinguish the

road from the soft sandy shoulder that bordered on either side.

Both windows were open allowing the hot air and sand to swirl in

on Hector as he sat in a sweat soaked shirt on a dust covered

blanket. Wiping his eyes repeatedly with the back of his hand he

drew his face nearer the windshield.

A noise came from the covered cage sitting on the seat beside

him. He reached over and lifted the blanket peering beneath it,

speaking as he did so.

"Not long now my friend." he said with a cooing tone.

Inside a lean red colored rooster strutted within the small

confined space. Suddenly the bird thrust its beak violently

against the heavy wire cage in a furious display. Stopping

instantly it cocked its head to one side and stared directly at

Hector.

"Yes you know what's coming, don't you little hombre. You

won't have to wait long." He said lowering the blanket.

Rubbing his eyes and straining to see out through the

windshield he could just make out faint rooftops in the distance.

He pressed harder on the gas pedal trying to propel the moaning

vehicle towards its objective. The motor wheezed and coughed like

a small child choking on its milk, culminating into an explosive

 2
backfire, seemingly lifting the rear of the truck. Struggling to

catch up the motor managed to maintain a prolonged spasm that

Hector encouraged with his foot mashed against the floor board as

the truck sputtered through the desert toward town.

Bleak sun bleached buildings stood stoically as the wind

whipped and whistled about them in the small town. The streets

were deserted when Hectors vehicle made its way into town

trumpeting his arrival with another deafening eruption as the

motor gratefully came to rest in the shade of a large Sycamore

tree. He reached through the window and opened the door from the

outside. The door swung open on rusty hinges and closed with a

clang as Hector crossed the street, stomping his boots and shaking

off dust as he went before entering a cafe. The bell on the door

clamored as he entered. The single room stood vacant.

"Un momento, por favor," came a sweet voice emanating from

the kitchen.

Hector found his way to the end of the counter and plopped

down in the breeze of the swamp cooler stationed there. He removed

his cap laying it on the next stool and shook his head combing his

hair with his fingers. The dust caked on his face created a line

where the hat had been. He turned to directly face the fan opening

his shirt to allow the cool air to blow in on his skin. He sat for

a moment enjoying the temporary reprieve from the stifling heat as

a woman entered from the kitchen wiping her hands. She came up

from behind the counter.

"Hello Hector, you really look like you've been through it

 3
today." She said placing the towel behind the bar.

"Yea it's quite a day alright."

"Haven't seen you around in a while. Where have you been

hiding."

"I've been a busy man lately, that's all" Hector replied

turning to the counter and facing his hostess.

"That's good for you; it keeps you out of trouble."

"I suppose it should, but sometimes things are more

complicated than that, Y'know."

"Yea, especially when you enjoy trouble so much." She said

moving closer up the counter now. "I suppose you've stopped by to

surprise me by paying your tab." She said giving a glance, trying

to register his response.

"Of course I intend to pay my tab. What do you take me for

anyway," he said with a look mock offense.

"I know your good for it but I am trying to run a business

here and I haven't seen you for a while. Things are kind of slow

now."

Hector looked around the deserted room.

"I know it. I've been busy that's all, but I'm here now to

take care of it. I stopped by to pay my bill and see what you were

doing tonight. I thought you might like to catch a movie over in

Yuma, maybe dinner after, when it cools down." Hector now sat

erect and proper in his seat, chin up.

Carmelita stopped and looked at him a little taken back at

his concession about paying his tab. Before she could gather her
 4
wits to respond he continued.

"How about a couple of beers and we'll cool off a little

before I go take care of a little something." He rubbed his hands

together before reaching into his pocket and producing a wad of

folding money. The money in a large roll was secured with a

rubber band.

She eyed him suspiciously. "Have you been working?"

"No, of course not. I've got a little business going on

that's all."

Hector considered work to be a rather unfitting endeavor and

avoided it with an uncanny ability. This attitude persisted

Hectors condition of being rather poor and mostly broke.

He continued through his parched throat. "Now how about

something to drink, I drove all the way down from the north shore

this morning and I'm dying of thirst."

He peeled the outer skin off his roll of bills and placed it

on the bar with an expectant expression.

"Keep the change." He boasted as he returned his wad to his

pocket.

Carmelita even more off balance produced two frosty beers

from the cooler, opened them and sat one in front of Hector and

kept the other for herself. Hector reached for his and held it up

in salute, "Salute," his throat croaked.

Hector closed his eyes and brought the beer to his lips. He

drew lightly, allowing the icy fluid time to absorb into the

cracked leather that once was his throat. The cold liquid crept
 5
slowly down his throat like rain water running into a dry lake

bed, filling the voids as it meandered along. His throat closed

and he paused a moment before sighing and setting the bottle down.

He opened his eyes reentering the room from his minds ecstasy.

"I think I may survive after all." He said.

He placed the bottle down as Carmelita took the large bill

and tallied his tab. Hector now began to settle in with the fan

blowing and a cold beer in hand, almost forgetting the long drive

through the scorching heat. He pulled a napkin from the dispenser

and mopped his face giving a little exhausted breath, then had

another swallow. Carmelita had waited long enough for an

explanation.

"Did you find someone's wallet Hector."

Hector spewed his beer in mid quaff.

"What do mean, find someone's wallet. What the hell you

talkin' about, wallet." He gasped. Now he used the napkin to wipe

his mouth.

"I don't know. Looks like quite a bit of money you have

there." She said honestly, still amazed.

"Is it impossible for a person to have a few dollars without

being accused of stealing," he said although it would certainly

not be beneath him to spend the spoils of such an event if it

indeed did happen and they both knew it.

"It's not that. It just seems like a lot of money that's

all."

"Well for your information there may be a lot more where this
 6
came from. In fact I'm on my way right now to see about some

more."

Hector returned to his beer and let her stew on that for a

minute. He tilted his bottle and drained it.

"Another, please," placing the empty down with emphasis.

She replaced it with a fresh one and waited for payment still

watchful for a game. Hector nonchalantly produced his onion and

carelessly peeled off another layer of skin. She made change

placing it in front of him. He left it there as if unconcerned,

having already returned the mother onion deep into his pocket,

safe and secure.

Starting to warm up to the situation Carmelita came around

the counter and removing Hectors hat from the seat there sat next

to him. She propped her elbow up on the bar and crossed her legs

femininely giving him her full attention. The onion bulged beneath

the fabric of his pants in full view now giving her comfort.

"So Hector, tell me then. What kind of business have you been

up to."

Hector remained facing the bar and turned his head only

slightly to respond.

"Well Carmelita it's not the type of thing one can openly

speak about, but tonight maybe we can discuss it on the way over

to Yuma. If you would care to go that is."

She played her hand slowly up the neck of the bottle she held

and averted her eyes playfully.

"What time you thinking about."

 7
"I'll come by after you close, and give you a ride home. We

can leave from there, if you like."

"That sounds great Hector." The date was set.

"All right then, that's it. I'll be back around eight."

Hector rose to go finishing off his beer and pocketing his change

leaving another nice tip.

"I'll be waiting." She said smiling while remaining in

position and watching him leave over her shoulder.

He crossed the room leaving beneath a clamoring bell out into

the oppressive heat. He made his way across the street getting

behind the wheel of his truck. He lifted the blanket to make sure

of his cargo. The cock responded in the usual manner displaying

his good health.

Hector smiled. "Now we go my friend."

The whining of the engine cranking over could clearly be

heard from the counter where Carmelita sat. A pop, a sputter and

the engine caught. Hector gunned the engine and ground the gears

into place. With a groan the truck lurched forward, sputtered,

threatened to die then caught again, then roared as he took off at

full throttle. The tires spun on the loose sand as he pulled away

from the curb heading down the street waving his arm in a victory

salute. Turning the corner he barreled out of sight.

. . . . . . . .

The crowd erupted in jubilation. Hector hurdled the barrier

and ran across the ring grabbing El Diablo as he continued

flailing on the dead contenders writhing remains. Hector held the

 8
new champion high above his head, the crowd roared as he circled

the ring. The cheers rang in his ears as he celebrated his third

victory of the night, his pockets bulging with his winnings. The

roar continued as he was mauled by the admiring spectators. A

boy quietly entered the ring to retrieve loser.

Hector held Diablo to his body as the hands from every

direction reached to touch him, to congratulate him and to get

some of his phenomenal luck. The fondling and jostling continued

as he placed Diablo in his cage and covered it with a blanket.

"Hector drink," the call came. A bottle was pressed to him.

"Drink Hector to good fortune and the many victories to come."

Hector grabbed the bottle and held it high. The cheer rose

Immediately as he drank with exuberance and delight. Lowering the

bottle he rubbed his chin with his shirtsleeve smiling broadly.

"Viva Diablo," he screamed raising the bottle high once

again. The crowd cheered wildly in agreement. The bottles were

passed to Hector in rapid succession as the tequila ran down his

chin. He felt a hand upon his shoulder and lips close to his ear.

"Hector my friend mister Padilla would like to congratulate

you personally in his office." The words were offered with a

toothy smile amid the rambunctious noises close in. Hectors

slurred speech agreed.

"Of course, Mister Padilla, of course I would be happy to see

him."

He was ushered from the barn the crowd still pawing as he

passed. He stopped alerted.

 9
"Wait, Diablo. I need to get my bird."

"I'll take care of that Hector. Don't worry."

He raised his hand above the masses and waved a boy over who

hurriedly weaved through the bodies crushed together and appeared

magically at their feet. The man bent down speaking to the boy

motioning toward Diablo's cage. The boy nodded his head to

acknowledge that he understood. He slipped back between the legs

from which he had appeared. In an instant he could be seen

standing on a bale beside the small cage.

"There Hector," the man again whispered into his ear, "Mister

Padilla is taking personal responsibility for Diablo. No harm

will come to him," he assured his face close. He ushered Hector

from his adoring fans leading him away. Hector gave one last

cheer as they crossed the threshold.

"Hail Champion, Viva Diablo," the crowd responded heartily.

The cheers reseeded as the walked across the yard to the house.

Another fight was being prepared as the bettors scrambled for

position on the rails in the anticipation of their winning streaks

continuing.

Once the man had Hector on his way he did not speak. They

walked side by side the man guiding him along. At the house they

entered through a side door into a quiet hallway. The house was

dark and cool inside. The carpets were thick and soft under

Hectors dirty boots. Light crossed the hall from an open doorway

on the left. The man halted at the door way announcing their

arrival to the sole occupant.

 10
"Sir, this is Hector Morales. He is the owner of Diablo.

Hector this is Mister Padilla."

The man immediately stood back allowing Hector access to the

room as he was encouraged adamantly by his host.

"Come in Hector, Please." He raised his arms out in a

welcoming jester. Hector entered unabashed and crossed the room

to shake hands with the man before him, swaying slightly from the

heavy drink just previous. He sucked the moisture pooling in his

mouth before he returned the greeting.

"Ah yes thank you Mister Padilla. I'm honored to be

invited."

"Oh now Hector it is me who is honored. I wanted to

congratulate you on your victories. That is some bird you have

there, most impressive, I must say."

"Thank you Mister Padilla it is a stroke of great luck to

find such a champion. He is of rare quality for sure."

"Oh I must agree Hector. He is most extraordinary with out

doubt. I was most impressed watching him in the pit, astonishing

really." He crossed his arms appraising Hector. "Here let us

drink to your great good fortune and the long life of your

champion."

He called to his man. "Pablo, if you would be so kind, would

you please pour a drink for a toast."

The man went to a cabinet on the side of the room opening it.

Inside the bottles glistened, shiny and full. He turned the

tumblers up to receive the liquor and poured a healthy measure in

 11
each. He delivered the drinks with non for himself.

"Hector, to your very good fortune and long life." He raised

his cup high toward Hector who had already downed the contents of

his glass, eyes loose in there sockets.

"Ah yes", said Mister Padilla lowering his cup untouched on

the table nearest. He gave Hector a moment to gain himself and

then offered a chair.

"Please Hector, sit." He motioned to a chair.

Hector moved the short distance slumping into the heavy

padding, the alcohol all starting to kick in all at once. Padilla

eyed his guest now having given the proper amount of time to get

down to business.

"Hector there is another reason that I wanted talk to talk to

you tonight besides congratulating you. Hector I would like to

make you an offer for Diablo. I mean that I would like to buy him

from you." He paused for effect and to see if he had Hectors

attention, he did.

Although Hectors mind was floating in an alcoholic fog he

felt a trap and perked his ears straining to follow the

conversation.

"Hector as we have said and every one can see you have an

exceptional bird there and I would like to purchase him from you."

"Oh, no Mister Padilla I'm sorry, but I couldn't sell

Diablo..."

"Well wait a moment Hector and hear me out before you make a

final decision because it may benefit us both better as well as

 12
Diablo for me to own him. You know Hector that bird is fast

becoming famous around here and it won’t be long before the odds

are going to make it hard to make any real money off of him."

Hector fumbled with the wads of money in his pockets thinking

that at any odds he had enough to back his champion now but

refrained from producing it allowing Mister Padilla to continue.

"If he were mine Hector I could afford to back him properly

so that he could continue and expand his reign. I have

connections all over the region Hector and I could get him fights

against the best cocks around at good odds where a lot of money

can be made. And Hector it will always be you who found him and

trained him and as his legend grows so will yours Hector, so will

yours. Hector was this a good night for Diablo, I mean did you

make a lot of money."

Hectors attention was full he did not hesitate to answer his

mind fighting off the fog. "I did well certainly."

"How much did you make Hector, a thousand, two."

"Mister Padilla I did well by my standards, I know that to

you it is little but for me it was a good night."

"Oh no Hector I don’t mean to belittle your winnings with the

bird. You have had a fabulous run and I am envious. But what I

am suggesting Hector is that the luck may not hold out and that I

am willing and may be in a better position to give Daiblo a chance

to truly become the legend that men like us already know he is.

Hector you have served Diablo well until now but for his future I

might be able to do him better, and that is why Hector I am

 13
prepared to offer you, this night, ten thousand dollars for Diablo

Hector." He paused again to let Hector catch all the way up.

It was a good offer. Not one to be brushed aside with out

contemplation and Padilla let it sit now that the offer was made.

Hector thought on it. The amount was substantial. Before he

answered Padilla added one more thing.

"Hector you and I know that Diablo will lose one day maybe

the next time in the ring, if that happens you will lose

everything. I am willing to take that chance." And that was it

he now waited for the response. He motioned to his man to bring

him the bottle and waited leaving Hector to battle his demons and

decide. He sipped slowly on his drink watching Hector flop over

the offer. He could tell that Hector had to work it over. It was

a good offer, fair. One that his sporting blood felt Hector

should take but he was uncertain if it would be accepted or not.

He wanted the bird desperately but not enough to waiver. The

potential for very large gains was there with such a bird. They

only came along so often but the same opportunity stood for

disaster if the cock were to lose to another before he had had a

chance to recoup his investment. "Hector while you are deciding

I want you to know the price is fixed and I will not waiver, it is

a one time chance. Tomorrow I may feel differently about it. Who

knows what will happen after today."

. . . . . . . ..

Hector stopped the truck and looked at the turn off. He

 14
hesitated a minute trying to decide. The wind blew even harder

now than before. Tearing at the low sparse vegetation and causing

the air to turn brown with dust. Sticking his head out of the

window for a better view he received a blast of sand in the eyes

and retreated back inside. This looked about right but he

couldn't be sure. Rather than give up and turn back he took the

rocky dirt road. The truck bounced, creaked and jostled as Hector

crept along slowly. As the road twisted down through a small

gully the tires began to spin in the soft bottom sand. Quickly he

had to gun the engine to make it up the other side. As he

crested, the deep furrows created by his spinning tires were

clearly visible in his rear view mirror in the wake of flying

rocks and sand. The engine raced, coughed and raced again barely

making the rise. On top he stopped. The road only seemed to get

worse. He looked back into the wash and considered it. The turn

off had obviously been wrong. He had no choice. He would have to

try to turn around.

His choice to leave the ranch during the wind storm gnawed

at him now. He could have waited for someone else to leave that

knew the way better or for the storm to subside. He had ignored

his doubts and now wished he had sided with caution. Luck had

been riding with him for the past few weeks. He had become

comfortable with it. He wasn't ready to let it go just yet. The

decision was not conceded. He just wanted make it to the highway

and back to town.

He cranked hard on the wheel pin pointing back and forth on

 15
the narrow road trying to turn around. Sweat poured as he muscled

the wheel this way and that. Begrudgingly the truck gradually

came around and on the ridge over looking the wash. He gave the

motor a few good revs and made his decent into the sandy ravine.

. . . . . . . .

Dusk came and there was no Hector. Carmelita cleaned tables

and put the chairs up before mopping. She wiped ashtrays in the

waste can and locked up the cooler. Gathering her belongings she

left locking the door as she did. Outside the harsh beauty of the

surrounding desert at dusk caused her to pause. Monsoon clouds

moved in on the strong winds. The sky gave a kaleidoscope effect

in every different hue of color. Only the desert can give such

magnificent displays and quickly changing scenery. After

contemplating a moment she thought aloud. "Why do I get all the

drunks hanging around me." In disgust she stubbed her smoke out

on the sidewalk and went down the street for a drink.

. . . . . . . .

Darker clouds moved in at dusk filling the sky covering the

night’s stars leaving it black. Raindrops came as first as

welcomed relief, then the storm drew nearer and the rain

intensified. Stronger and heavier the rains came, beginning to

pour down in sheets, pounding the dry parched desert, quickly

saturating the porous soil. It came on and on.

Hector sat in his truck listening to it come down, pounding

the metal roof of his truck, mercilessly drumming in his ears and

filling the trenches he had dug in his futile attempts to dig the
 16
truck out. The cool air felt good and he allowed the rain to run

down his arms feeling refreshed. He sat willing to wait it out.

He thought he would go for help after it let up, but it continued.

He waited. The water started to run down the gully. Rising

steadily Hector began to notice water rushing up against his

truck. Grabbing the cage he left the limited shelter of the truck

and waded through the knee high stream to the bank. He sat in the

mud watching the water rise. The water rose steadily. It did not

take long for the rising river to become a raging rapid, the rapid

to a torrent, the torrent washing the truck down the wash. His

few options became one.

With the cage in one hand, his pockets full of money. Hector

abandoned the truck starting to walk to the highway. He trudged

along, the muck sticking to him. It was difficult to stay on

course in the starless night. The rain continued making the going

more and more difficult. The road on which he traveled ceased to

exist as he stumbled over rocks, cacti and brush. He cursed at the

pricks and bruises and the night. Slogging forward in a bog he

fell forward landing prone. The cage maintained a semi upright

position and a commotion could be heard inside. Stumbling to gain

his feet he lost his shoe. He turned to fished it, probing in the

dark without success. The mud saturated his clothing as he

slopped around on his knees, crawling in circles. Finally he lost

track of his position and that of the missing shoe.

As he knelt in the mud he heard an engine. The lights came

into view and a car cruised past just a couple of hundred yards
 17
away. As it passed the trailing spray illuminated its rear lights

diffusing into a red glow that dissolved into the night. The road

was just ahead.

Covered in mud, his shoe lost, he gathered himself. Picking

up the cage he stumbled on through the dark desert, his bare foot

stomping helplessly on briar and rocks the last few steps to the

road. The cock sat cool and comfortably beneath his wet blanket

bouncing along completely unaware that he was tethered to a

sinking ship.

. . . . . . . . . .

The bar was loud, crowded. She sat at the end, a tall glass

nearby. A friend was speaking endlessly. Carmelita was bored

with her and not really listening, she seemed not to notice or

care anyway as she continued on a new point of her reasoning with

renewed enthusiasm. Carmelita raised her glass draining the

remaining contents calling for another as she lowered it to the

bar. The bartender appeared immediately to take her order.

"A double rum and coke Julio."

"Ah yes, another rum and coke coming up. Be careful you

don't drown on these things. You should be up full up to your

lungs by now. What are we celebrating?"

"Julio, you just stand back there and pour 'em and I'll sit

out here and drink 'em. Savvy amigo."

"What a beautiful personality you have when you drink chica.

But don't waist your time showing your teeth to me. I was just

curious that's all. You can drink all the rum in the house for
 18
all I care."

Her friend was silent irritated at the interruption to her

story trying to remember where she was so that she could continue.

Carmelita sat on the stool musing over the events of the day.

. . . . . . . . . .

The bus sat on the side of the road, parked. A woman with a

flashlight looked under the hood as the motor cranked. Hector

approached carrying the cage from behind. He was in sorrowful

shape after his ordeal, mostly covered in mud, drunk. He walked

with one shoe calling out as he came near alerting the occupants

of his arrival.

“Hello”, he yelled as he came to the bus. The cranking

stopped for a minute. A young woman stuck her head out of the

door looking back. In the dark she could make out Hector coming

along side.

“Sheila we got company.”

Now a head popped around from under the hood, her hair tied

back but messy, grease on her chin.

“So we do. What is it.”

“I’m not sure but I hope it knows about motors.”

Hector looking even worse than he felt made it the few

remaining feet and stopped setting the cage done gratefully.

“Whew, that was some hike.”

“It looks like it.”

 19
On the bus they had beer. The angels had interceded once

again on Hectors behalf.

. . . . . . . . . .

The knock at the door came again. She sat up shaking the

cobwebs from her mind. Looking at the clock she cussed. The room

was dark, late at night, early morning another knock.

"I'm coming," she yelled as she found her robe, starting to the

door. Her head swam in a rum stew from the night before, the

hours before.

She checked her clock again, "God damn it, who the hells

beating on that door at this hour.”

Charging through the house she went to the front door,

swinging it open to face the irritant.

Face bloodied, Hector stepped back from the affront in alarm.

"Hector god damn it, what the hell are you doing banging on

my door at 4 a.m... Haven't you got no sense at all."

Hector stood dumbfounded, without response. His clothes were

wet and bloody. His shoe was missing. Carmelita stood with her

robe open; hands on hips, legs exposed waiting for an explanation

that wasn't coming. The cage next to Hectors feet rustled beneath

the blanket.

"Hector what in the hell happened to you." She asked again

becoming inpatient with him.

He mumbled a little and fumbled with his belt trying to make

himself more presentable, it was hopeless. Standing on the porch

soaked to the skin the drunken Hector was not sure why he had
 20
come, or at least could not remember. He fumbled through his mind

searching for a response. Looking around as if lost for a

response he saw the cage and began to speak in an effort to gain

entry to the house.

"El Dorado, he had another good night, three wins..." He

tailed off losing his thought. He was tired now, and drunk,

unable to maintain concentration for long. He halted his speech

and resumed his numbed stance in front of the door. Carmelita

tired of the fruitless interrogation, sensed that she was stuck

with him for the night though still resenting it. She fired one

more volley before surrender.

"God damn it Hector your not marching around this house in

those muddy cloths, get your ass in the bathroom."

Hector looked up at her, knowing his dependence, waiting for

her to show a sign. She stepped aside allowing him to enter.

Reaching to pick up the cage Hector began to enter.

"Wait a minute," she said. Something was wrong, he paused.

"What the hell is that. You aren’t bringing any filthy animal

into my house."

Hector hesitated. He stood with the cage hanging from his

arm, "But I can't leave him outside. He won't be safe. He'll get

stolen."

"You’re not bringing it in here."

It would have been difficult to look more pathetic than the

lost sole stranded on her porch. Without excuse for his mind or

manner he stood in his filthy disarray trying to comprehend the

 21
circumstance, baffled as to the condition by which he would be

able to enter and Diablo be safe. He clutched the cage in his

fist not six inches from the threshold. Carmelita again firmly

planted in his way. Almost in yet blocked again.

"I can not leave the bird outside at night he will be stolen,

something might happen to him. I cannot do it. It would be

irresponsible."

Carmelita laughed out loud. "Irresponsible. That's funny

Hector. You being concerned about irresponsibility’s. You fool,

what in the hell do you know about responsibility I'd like to

know."

This wasn't going the way Hector had hoped. He wasn't sure

what he had thought would happen but he was sure that this wasn't

it. His eyes were cloudy and his head hurt, he was having

difficulty keeping up with the conversation, the cage was becoming

too heavy to hold. Then it turned really bad.

"Hector, why don't you take your little bird and go home.

You can take the bird in your house and both of you will be very

happy I'm sure. And don't come rooting around here in the middle

of the night wallowing on my door step. What in the hell are you

thinking." And with that she slammed the door in his face.

He stood facing the door. The lights in the little house

went off immediately and the silence of the night surrounded him.

He began to walk down the deserted street aimlessly, listing to

one side as he carried the cage with one shoe on. The houses were

close together, the windows dark and silent on either side as he

 22
passed with his uneven step in the early morning.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

The cat walked the fences along the alley where Hector

snoozed loudly. The rumble of his guttural noises filtered

through the crates and boxes strewn there as he slept without

concern. Near his head was the cage, the empty cage.

The rooster had escaped and stood quietly by, milling. The

cat approached cautiously. He came watching keenly as he made his

way stopping above them surveying the scene. He paid particular

attention to the little bird, smelling the air, becoming more

confident. He sat above them on the fence watching, preparing,

saliva pooled at the corner of his mouth. He dropped landing with

an air of expectancy, facing the bird. The bird was alert but did

not run. This gave the alley cat confidence. He moved a little

closer preparing to pounce. The champion eyed his prey.

THE END