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Authors: Rick Rivera
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especially helpful. He worked all week with Place. They got a lot done, didn’t they?”
“Hmmm. Yeah, I guess,” Jacqueline responded. She was preoccupied with some of what she had just heard, and then said, “He better not expect to be getting paid. I didn’t agree to give him anything. In fact I want him out of here as soon as—”
“Who, Place?” Mitch asked, knowing just when to interrupt and that Jacqueline was really talking about Salvador. She was finding her peaceful morning unnecessarily and irrationally inflicted with Jacqueline’s scowling demeanor and attempted to return some of that nettlesome feeling.
“No! I’m talking about Salvador. He better not expect—”
Mitch interrupted again by clearing her throat assertively. She looked at Jacqueline with piercing eyes. Jacqueline stared back, but her eyes were not as pointed. Mitch let a few seconds of silence preface what she wanted to say, and then she began: “Jacqueline, nobody’s asking you to pay them for anything. Please don’t worry. Salvador’s not going to ask you for a cent. But I think you should seriously consider keeping him on for a while. He knows this ranch better than any of us. He’s a good worker. And you wouldn’t have to pay him much. This place could use the extra help, especially now. I can do some, but a lot of my time is going to be spent getting this house into shape.”
Jacqueline was not accustomed to straightforward talk. She was hoping to warm to Mitch this weekend, but there was something about her self-assurance that irritated Jacqueline.
Mitch was irritated too, and it was Jacqueline more than Mickey that created that irritation. Mitch searched for the causes and effects that directed her perception of Jacqueline and she cued them up to form her reasoning: “It’s Jacqueline’s money, her means that got them this ranch. Since the ranch is hers, she gets to call the shots. It’s Jacqueline’s ignorance that guides the shots she calls. Therefore, the shots she calls are stupid ones. It’s Jacqueline’s stupid ideas that keep things inert, but she wouldn’t recognize progress if it walked up to her and stepped on those clean, fancy boots of hers.” This much Mitch understood, and as she understood it she liked it even less. Jacqueline was coarse, another cause, and she was really deep down—but not too deep to be hidden—trash, a blatant effect. Add her ignorance and insolence to that and almost any reasonable thinker could see she was easy to classify, starting with order and going down through family, genus, and species. Mitch knew that Jacqueline held the reins and Mitch was simply another saddled beast in her eyes. This startling realization led Mitch to shudder momentarily, jarring her ego. At least with Place, they both agreed, even if it was a tacit understanding, that Mitch knew how things should progress and that she would guide Place through those things. He understood the nature of cause and effect and acknowledged that that was how things should work. It eased his burden. It allowed him to float along in a world that confused him and was one he often regretted living in. Mitch waited for Jacqueline to respond, and as she waited she recalled some lines from Othello : “It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul. Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars! It is the cause.”
“I’m sorry, Mitch,” she said, switching her tone as she confronted the fork in the discursive road. “Buying this place has been stressful for me. Everything happened so fast. I’m feeling such pressure from thinking about making the payments and all the money I have to put into this place just to get a respectable boarding operation up and running. I bought this ranch for Mickey because he wanted to get out of the construction business, and he wants to ride horses and rope. And I’d like to do that too. But it’s costing so much.”
“Jacqueline,” Mitch said “I really think we can help you. There’s a
“Hmmm. Yeah, I guess,” Jacqueline responded. She was preoccupied with some of what she had just heard, and then said, “He better not expect to be getting paid. I didn’t agree to give him anything. In fact I want him out of here as soon as—”
“Who, Place?” Mitch asked, knowing just when to interrupt and that Jacqueline was really talking about Salvador. She was finding her peaceful morning unnecessarily and irrationally inflicted with Jacqueline’s scowling demeanor and attempted to return some of that nettlesome feeling.
“No! I’m talking about Salvador. He better not expect—”
Mitch interrupted again by clearing her throat assertively. She looked at Jacqueline with piercing eyes. Jacqueline stared back, but her eyes were not as pointed. Mitch let a few seconds of silence preface what she wanted to say, and then she began: “Jacqueline, nobody’s asking you to pay them for anything. Please don’t worry. Salvador’s not going to ask you for a cent. But I think you should seriously consider keeping him on for a while. He knows this ranch better than any of us. He’s a good worker. And you wouldn’t have to pay him much. This place could use the extra help, especially now. I can do some, but a lot of my time is going to be spent getting this house into shape.”
Jacqueline was not accustomed to straightforward talk. She was hoping to warm to Mitch this weekend, but there was something about her self-assurance that irritated Jacqueline.
Mitch was irritated too, and it was Jacqueline more than Mickey that created that irritation. Mitch searched for the causes and effects that directed her perception of Jacqueline and she cued them up to form her reasoning: “It’s Jacqueline’s money, her means that got them this ranch. Since the ranch is hers, she gets to call the shots. It’s Jacqueline’s ignorance that guides the shots she calls. Therefore, the shots she calls are stupid ones. It’s Jacqueline’s stupid ideas that keep things inert, but she wouldn’t recognize progress if it walked up to her and stepped on those clean, fancy boots of hers.” This much Mitch understood, and as she understood it she liked it even less. Jacqueline was coarse, another cause, and she was really deep down—but not too deep to be hidden—trash, a blatant effect. Add her ignorance and insolence to that and almost any reasonable thinker could see she was easy to classify, starting with order and going down through family, genus, and species. Mitch knew that Jacqueline held the reins and Mitch was simply another saddled beast in her eyes. This startling realization led Mitch to shudder momentarily, jarring her ego. At least with Place, they both agreed, even if it was a tacit understanding, that Mitch knew how things should progress and that she would guide Place through those things. He understood the nature of cause and effect and acknowledged that that was how things should work. It eased his burden. It allowed him to float along in a world that confused him and was one he often regretted living in. Mitch waited for Jacqueline to respond, and as she waited she recalled some lines from Othello : “It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul. Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars! It is the cause.”
“I’m sorry, Mitch,” she said, switching her tone as she confronted the fork in the discursive road. “Buying this place has been stressful for me. Everything happened so fast. I’m feeling such pressure from thinking about making the payments and all the money I have to put into this place just to get a respectable boarding operation up and running. I bought this ranch for Mickey because he wanted to get out of the construction business, and he wants to ride horses and rope. And I’d like to do that too. But it’s costing so much.”
“Jacqueline,” Mitch said “I really think we can help you. There’s a
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