Arizonian Pride

Arizonian Pride Chapter 7

Randy rubbed his sweaty hands on his old worn jeans. He stepped into the rustic, wooden-walled office. It was just the way he remembered it when he last saw it as an employee here.

" …Ch-Chief?"

A tall, lean, golden-bronze-skinned man was arranging tools and knick knacks into the cabinets in his office, oblivious to the presence of the visitor behind him.

Randy stiffened. Has his best friend forgotten him from his long absence from the company, or is it merely old age memory-loss?

"Chief?" Randy tried again, a little louder this time.

The old man dropped his things at the sound of Randy's voice. He looked up at his visitor, revealing a slim, wrinkly face.

"R-R-R-R...", the man stammered in short breaths, unable to find the name from inside his brain. He scratched his head, almost messing up the tribal Native American headdress and decorations he was wearing in his brownish-black hair.

"C'mon, laddie," Randy pushed him. "You know my name. C'mon, say it!"

"RANDY! Oh my gosh, I thought you retired five years ago!"

The veteran sighed with relief. He ran to his long-term best friend and embraced him, chuckling as tears fell from his grey eyes.

"Chief, you still remember me! Ah thought, ah thought something had happened to you… "

"Something? Like what, dementia?"

"Err, yes?"

The Navajo man planted his fists on his hips. "Seriously, McClarence? Don't patronise me, old man. I may be just as old as you are, but ain't no old-man disease gonna knock on my door too soon!"

Randy chortled and proudly pat him on the back. "That's mah 'Chief' Ralph O'Malley!"

"Besides, it's only been five years, mate. I see your face on my wall every single day in my office, framed over the title of The Arizonian Archaeology Club's Best Employee for ten years straight. Tell me who can forget that kind of worker, man?"

"Oh, stop it, you!" Randy blushed. "It ain't no small feat to achieve or to keep that one up, ah tell ya!"

"Ah, nobody said it was, Rands," the Native man smiled.

"Good, good. Very good." Randy nodded with satisfaction. "Why are you still wearing that headdress, laddie? Thought ya wanted to get rid a' it some years back?"

"Yeah, I wanted to, but now less and less Natives are working in my place these days, and… I don't want my traditions and customs to die out under my own roof." O'Malley shrugged. "It's no big deal, Randy. I mean, it's been in my family for generations, and I've been wearing it at work for ages everyday, man!"

"Oh."

"And, as a Native, I DON'T just 'get rid of it', Randy. I can't, and I won't.”"

"Ah see. Sorry. Ain't pushin' ya or anything."

"So what brings you here?"

Randy's grin suddenly dissipated. Solemnly, he sat his best friend down, and explained EVERYTHING. About his ranch, about the Whitercolls, about the old folks home, about the documents he found in the safe. Everything. O'Malley listened hard and sympathised with his nearly homeless friend.

"Man, life's been tough on ya, eh, Randy? Can I get you anything?" he offered kindly.

"Ah could use a good beer right now. Just one glass." Randy let his glance wander around his old office until it landed on O'Malley's turquoise shamrock necklace. It was a four-leafed clover design carved from his ancient tribe's sacred stone. Randy smiled.

"Ah could use a good ol' swig of Guinness - the kind that them Irish people love." He winked at his mate.

O'Malley smiled, freckles glowing on his golden face. Randy loved to acknowledge his mixed heritage any chance he got. He called for his office assistant to prepare the serving.

"Ah need you to help me, Chief. Them darn ol' unethical, unauthorised diggers chased me outta mah home 'cause they want 'em minerals underneath me land! And ah DON'T wanna stay with no family or people ah don't know, even if more than half a' them are about mah age!"

"Randy, Randy, calm down. I want to help you. I really do. But…"

"But what?"

"...... I don't know what I can do. I'm not a property manager. I don't even have any contacts of, like, lawyers or anything. I can only agree with you about how wrong those people are for simply digging on your land sans permission, with minimal consideration for the environment. Other than that, I'm not sure what I can do to help you on a practical level.”

"Chief, please. Ah need backup here. You can do ANYTHING that's possible. Ah'm NOT gonna watch mah ranch crumble down in the hands of injustice!"

O'Malley thought for a while. He glanced at the thick, yellow-paged phonebook sitting neatly on his desk. An idea popped into his head.

"Randy, I can call one of the sheriffs of Arizona and Texas and make a report to them. Seeing as the wrongdoers are from Texas and your home is in Arizona, the authorities from both states should be involved," O'Malley explained.

"Good, Chief. That's something."

"I'll tell them everything you told me and everything you were put through. I promise."

"You're the best man, EVER, Chief. Ah'll never forget thi- OH MAH GOSH!" Randy slapped his forehead as he remembered something.

"What?"

Randy looked at his buddy, worry flashed in his eyes. "The kids," he muttered.

"What about the kids?" O'Malley asked.

Randy explained that if the Whitercolls parents are to be put behind bars, their four under-aged children would need someone to legally watch over them as a guardian until their parents finish doing time.

"... and ah don't know how long that'll be. Prolly for a looooong time lookin' at all the bollocks they 'ave put me through," Randy huffed. O'Malley leaned his head against one hand and sighed.

"Hey, Chief……"

"Hmm?"

"Remember that Christmas when ah couldn't get you a present for the office party because ah used the last of mah pension and savings that month for mah grocery shopping?"

"Uhhh-huh?" O'Malley nodded. "But didn't I tell you it was okay? I mean, your basic necessities are more important than getting me a present. It would probably lose its meaning once the season is over anyway, just like……" O'Malley looked at the heap of things on the floor he has yet to arrange properly into his drawers, "......just like most of them."

"Ah know. Ah mean, it's okay with ya. But, can ah still pay ya back, even though it was, like, years ago? Consider it your belated Christmas present."

O'Malley thought for a while. "Ok, I guess?" he shrugged. "But I don't see what that has got to do with those darling kids…. wait. You're not thinking - "

"YES! Ah am thinking…" Randy interrupted him.

"YOU ARE NOT THINKING - !"

"AH. AM. THINKING. OF. Making YOU the legal temporary guardian of those four young whippersnappers until their folks finish doing time."

O'Malley stared at his friend. "W-w-wait, ME?! B-but I don't know those kids, and they don't know me, either! I - " Randy put a hand up and hushed him before he could object any more.

"Ah'm aware of that, Chief," he answered soberly. "But ah don't know anyone better to take care a' them young kids 'till their folks come home other than you. Haven't cha always wanted yer own kids, laddie? So here yer go. Merry (belated) Christmas, laddie."

O'Malley blinked several times as tears of gratefulness rolled down his cheeks. "Randy," he sniffed, "this is the best belated Christmas present I've ever received.”

"Ah've always known what you wanted. Aint that what besties are s'possed to do?" Randy smiled.

Blissful silence.

"Say, Chief, can ah ask ya just one last favour?"

"What is it?"”

"Can ya drive me to mah ranch? Ah just KNOW it's still standing. Ah can feel it."

O'Malley looked up and smiled. "Sure, Randy, but I need to stay here just for a little while, at least until…"

"Until what? What's keepin' ya?"

O'Malley's eyes twinkled . "You still haven't had your Guinness yet, have ya?"

And for the first time in ages, the two old-timers laughed until Randy (nearly) peed his pants. He stopped himself and regained his composure before it happened. Looking - and smelling - like he was suffering from old-age incontinence (as if!) in front of his best friend was the last thing he needed.

"Ahem, uhm… yeah, that's right," Randy agreed. "What's takin' yer assistant so long?"

***

The journey to Randy's ranch, from New Mexico to Arizona, was a long one on a jeep instead of plane. As O'Malley drove, Randy kept himself entertained - and all worries about the standing status and condition of his ranch at bay - by jamming along to the jeep's MP3 player.

"Tik-tok, on the clock, let the square dance don't stop. Tonight, by the ranch, and then watch the sun set…!" Randy sang along, making up his own version of lyrics to the song.

"Randy? I don't mean to kill your fun, but you do know that this is why we're not catching a plane to your ranch right now, right?" O'Malley asked.

"This? This what? Got no care in the world, and got plenty a' Moonshine. Got no drugs in mah pocket cuz ah'm livin' it clean…!"

"THIS! What you're doing right now."

"Oh. Why? What's wrong with it? Think an old man can't at least try to keep up with the times if he wants to? Can't stop 'im from enjoying himself, too, if he wants."

"Nonono, Rands. Nothing wrong with what you're doing at all. But just in case you've forgotten..."

" 'Course ah still remember! Them air stewardesses and pilots and crews 'ave got no sense of fun at all. Yer love, yer love, yer love, is my drug. Yer love, yer love, yer love!" Randy sang to the next song, bumping his fists and bopping his head.

"Yeah, you know. We'll be thrown out of the plane in an instant, airborne if necessary! Like that time we tried to take a flight to Thailand."

"Ooooh yeah! Luckily ah had brought parachutes for the two of us..."

"Randy?"

"When you go to places that are famous for skydiving, bungee jumping and stuff like that, ya can't forget to bring your gear…"

"RANDY?"

"What?"

"Our parachutes were in our luggage, which were stored in the plane's cargo container. We didn't have them with us in our seats."

"...oh."

Randy waited until the song finished, then he turned the volume down and talked to his friend again.

"So... how did we survive it?"

"I dunno," O'Malley shrugged, "we just left the plane and... moved on. What else was there to do next?"

"Ah'm just surprised neither of us are showing any signs of trauma of being thrown out of a plane without parachutes."

"Well, okay, we did embarrass ourselves a little in front of the other passengers and the crew, but it's not really something that sticks around for too long in the back of your mind, you know."

"Yeah, that's good. And who enjoys riding planes anyway? Not us old haggards. Too many people, too many crying babies and fussy children, too much snoring, too crowded, not enough space to even stretch, let alone walk around."

"And too many air stewardesses who threaten to confiscate your Walkman even when you had nothing to do with all that noise your friend was making…" O'Malley muttered, throwing Randy the sideways glance.

"That's what happens when ya forget to bring ya earphones, laddie! Ya gotta turn it all the way up."

"That's what happens when the plane doesn't put on music that appeals to a man my age! Too much young, teeny bopper stuff these days. Had to listen from my Walkman as a result. Hey, I'm kinda glad the plane hadn't taken off yet when they threw us out," O'Malley mused. "A drop from some 20000 feet above the ground probably isn't good for my Walkman."

"Why wouldcha worry 'bout that? It would be safer in the hands of that stewardess who confiscated it, at least. Hey, that Walkman was a precious gift ah gotcha, eh? See, Chief? Ah may 'ave missed you a present for Christmas, but ah've never missed one for your birthday!"

O'Malley glowed. The ride went on for a silent while until a thought popped into Randy's head.

"Hey Chief, speaking of modern stuff like teeny boppers and earphones, why don'tcha try looking up some dating website thingies online. Just scroll through some profiles - make your own if ya want - and pick the one person that seems to be into baby-making like you are?"

"Online dating sites? You mean you have to register with your email and stuff and make your own account there?"

"Yup, those. There're all sorts of things on the internet these days."

"That... that's a good idea, Randy. I don't mind registering for an online thing if it's for free. But how would I know if my potential partner has more than just her baby-making ability?"

"Whaddya mean?"

"Fertility is NOT the only quality I'm looking for in a partner. It's not the only reason I'm looking for a partner, either. It's the main thing, yeah, but it's not the only thing." O'Malley stressed. He flashed Randy a quick look. "I need more than just some healthy ova and a uterus for someone to be the mother of my future kids."

"Ooooooh!" Randy cooed. "Ah get it: ya want somethin' deeper, eh?"

"Yes, Randy. I NEED something deeper."

"Right, of course! The ability to go deep and intimate with a loved one is important in sustaining a good relationship with them!"

"Very important. So how do you do it?"

Randy shrugged. "Ah dunno, laddie. Ah can't tell ya 'cause ah've never tried it before! Ya don't these kinds a' questions to an unmarried old man, ya know."

" *Sigh*… then forget I asked you anything."

"Although… there was this one time, and the ONLY time, that ah've ever gotten as close as ah could get to someone."

"Really, old chap? Tell me about it."

"Well, that was before ah worked at the club. Ah was a young one fresh from college, still figurin' out what ah wanna do for the rest of my life. Then ah meet this fine, fine, fine person, one day at some company after an interview. Long legs, lean figure, a smile that showed a perfect set of teeth. *Sigh* It would've been perfect."

"And then?"

"Ah could've married him when I had the chance. Such perfection. Ah saw a lot of potential in that young 'un."

O'Malley glanced quickly at Randy as he focused on his driving. "Well, what stopped you from doing it?"

Randy clenched his fists. And like a volcano, he erupted. "Because back then ah used to care what people thought of me! Ah wasn't old, grey and apathetic enough yet to not give a rat's toss about their old-fashioned views on society! Ah'm still hearin' those darn tootin' views today - it's almost as if nothing has changed for the past 50 years!"

"Damn."

"It's the 21st century now, fer Lord's sake. Stuff like should be accepted everywhere. But if that was the case back in the day, ah might have had what you've always wanted today, Chief."

"Gee, I'm so sorry you didn't end up with him."

"So ah don't know how to go deep with anyone, Chief. I rarely had the chance. But since you're asking me, I can only suggest you try different positions and hope for the best."

"Alright, alright, mate. So I just need to experiment and…... wait. RANDY!"

"What?"

"That's NOT the kind of 'deep' I'm talking about."

"Hahahaha! Ah just LOVE kiddin' around with you like that, laddie. You always fall for it. That's just so you, man. So you."

"Oh really, Randy?" O'Malley snapped, irritated. "I doubt it. You're always taking things out of context. It's no surprise that you're still unmarried at this point."

"Woah-Woah-Woah, now you just hold it there, laddie! You know ah CHOSE to live the unmarried life! Ah've long forgotten about that ol' flame a' mine already."

"Ok. Ok. I know you chose that road, but I want to go down a different road! I dream of it everyday. I can just hear the pitter-patter of little feet around my home and office every night in my subconscious, in the near future. I don't have much time left, Randy. I don't know if my body is fit enough for baby-makig anymore, but I'm still gonna hope for the best."

Randy stiffened. "Wait, what? Whaddya mean ya don't have much time left? Didn't that test come back negative?"

O'Malley did not answer. He continued driving in silence.

"Did it?"

"......"

"Chief, don't scare me, man," Randy began to get anxious. "Ah'm your best friend. You can tell me anything."

Silently, O'Malley opened a cabinet in the driver's seat and pulled out a piece of paper. It was a report on his recent medical test. Randy studied it thoroughly. "Oh gosh, laddie," he choked, "Ah-ah can't...... Ah can't… Oh great. Now ah can't finish mah sentences anymore like young folks these days. Why didn'tcha tell me about this earlier?!"

O'Malley sighed.

"YOU'RE HEALTHY! Oh! Ah knew it. Nothing relieves an old geezer more than a medical test coming back negative. You really got me there, Mister Ralph O'Malley! Hahahahaha! You really got me there.” Randy went in to hug-squeeze his best friend, which caused him to lose control of the jeep a little and make it skid.

"Woah, woah, woah, Randy! I'm still driving. Hey!" O'Malley yelped as he tried to get the vehicle back in lane.

"Oh sorry," Randy let go of his friend. The jeep steered back on the main lane, balanced. O'Malley breathed a sigh of relief.

"Randy, the test may have come back negative, but if I don't drive carefully we'll both be dead."

"Alright, alright, my bad." The cowboy cleared his throat. "Hey, has it ever occurred to ya that at least half the people we've known in our younger days would be dead by now?"

"At least half of 'em? Only? One night I received an invitation to the birthday celebration of this old friend I used to know from that senior art class. I stayed up late to make a pretty birthday card and a collage of photos of the two of us. I went to that party the following day… only to find out he's not alive anymore. Poor thing. He died on his own birthday. So sad.”

"And ah got a call last month 'bout this friend other people thought I knew," O'Malley continued. "Every time someone talks to me about some old person I used to know, my first thoughts would always be 'Oh, that guy! Yeah, I recognise that old chap. Is he still alive?' "

"Haha, 'true dat', man, as what the young people say these days."

"Looks like not many of our old friends are as lucky as we are today to...... live this long," O'Malley reflected.

"Yeah. We're some pretty fortunate folks."

Randy held his pinky finger out to O'Malley. "Best friends forever?"

"Until our luck runs out. Sure."

"Then pinky-please!" Randy wiggled his finger at O'Malley.

"Sorry. Can't pinky right now. I'm still driving."

"Fine-fine-fine." Randy put his finger down. "But ah'll still remember our promise."

O'Malley smiled.

"C'mon, press on the gear, Chief! Ah've got a ranch to save!" Randy urged his friend.

"Alright, alright," the Native man stashed the report back into his cabinet. "Let's go!"

***

The elderly duo arrived to the sight of some unexpected visitors at the ranch. People donning yellow hard hats, blue uniforms with silver badges and worker's construction boots were everywhere. Vehicles ranging from small cars and large tractors were parked all around Randy's property, blocking any potential entry from outsiders, the owner included.

"This is ridiculous," Randy observed. "They're preparing to tear me home down!"

"What are you going to do?" O'Malley worriedly asked him. "I don't think they're gonna let you in."

"Ah'm the owner, why shouldn't they?" Randy snapped.

Just like that, the determined veteran got up and walked straight to the front entrance of his ranch. O'Malley followed closely behind him. A bulky-built security guard was on duty there.

"Howdy," the guard greeted him.

"Are you in charge here?"

"Yes. I'm Officer Smith. Can I help you?"

"Ah'm the owner of this ranch, and ah want to go in."

"Sorry, no can do,"

the guard replied.

"Why not?" Randy demanded.

"Orders are orders, old man. We have a right to keep you out and - HEY, DON'T START THAT DIGGER YET! I DID NOT GIVE YOU ORDERS TO START THAT DIGGER YET! Gosh, who hired this guy to operate machines?!" The officer stormed off towards some bumbling construction workers, calling a spare substitute officer to take his post. Randy decided to try with another person.

"Hey, ma'am," he said to a woman who was writing on a clipboard.

The woman didn't even bother to look up from her notes.

"What? I'm busy."

"Can you please call off the demolition? This is MY ranch and ah did NOT give my permission to have it torn down."

O'Malley looked at Randy, impressed that he could keep his signature temper under control so far.

"Sir, I don't know who you are. But orders are orders." Randy sighed. "But since you said you are the owner of this place, you must have the keys to the barn over there." The woman pointed to a red and white building not far from the ranch. "Can you remove all the vehicles from there? We wanna clear that barn off this land, too."

"Oh? Ah can still enter my barn, really? THANK YOU."

"Wait, wait, wait. No you can't." The woman slapped her sweaty forehead. "I'll get fired for it. You know what, you can just wait in the animal den over there. We've cleared them out earlier today, and...… "

"YOU CLEARED OUT ALL MY ANIMALS' HOMES?! WHERE ARE THEY NOW??" Randy's inner volcano finally erupted. O'Malley jumped back a little.

"I don't know!" the woman snapped back. "I'm a government and property agent. It's not my job to know where your animals are! They could have been beaten to death, sold, or cooked or just let back out into the wild or something."

"NGNGNGNGNGNG…!" Randy restrained himself from biting her head off. He stormed off to a quiet, unsupervised spot to let off some steam. He kicked at the sand and squat down in a shady spot under a large dying tree.

O'Malley squat down next to himRandy was seething and turning really red in the face. But O'Malley remained calm and waited for Randy to cool off.

"So, what do we do now?"

"Ah'm thinking about it. Ugh! Why didn't we come up with a plan on the way here?"

"Then, maybe I shouldn't have talked about other things with you. Sorry."

" 'Sorry?' It ain't yer fault, laddie. It's not like ya knew they were gonna reach me ranch before we do anyway. Ah've lived here almost all mah life and now they think they can just do anything they want with it! All mah rights, mah land, and all mah animals…... all gone!”

"Alright, alright. So what's the plan? They're not gonna let us in. And they've barricaded the whole area with trucks and tractors and everything."

Randy thought for a while. The government agent let slip just now that the vehicles in Randy's barn are still there, so that means…

The angry veteran stood up and sneaked quickly towards his locked barn. He made sure to take the lightest steps to not alert any officers standing guard in the area.

O'Malley followed him like a loyal puppy. "Randy, what you doing?" he whispered.

"Shh!" Randy hushed him. A wide toothed grin crept across his wrinkled face. O'Malley never liked that look. Like a mischievous child, it usually means Randy is up to something.

"Chief! You stand outside, away from my property," Randy whispered. "But not too far, ah want you to be able to watch this and remember this for life.

"

"What do you mean? What are you going to do?"

"Just wait for me, okay? Ah have an idea…"