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Bethany, Oklahoma was not a large town, even by farm-town standards. The mandatory elevator and grain mill complex formed its life blood, and a handful of subsidiary businesses supported the farmers and ranchers in the surrounding area. There would probably be a small medical extension of the hospital in Stillwater and probably more churches than businesses in this town of less than two thousand people. The townspeople here, like those in most of the surrounding area, were Bible Belters. The Southern Baptist movement that swept the farmlands of the south and mid-west during the latter part of the nineteenth century was still very powerful in the region, and most folks seemed to naturally abide by the covenants contained within its doctrine.
For most people, this meant minding your own business, going to church on Sunday, and expecting others to behave in a similar fashion. Family matters were resolved within families whenever possible, and social institutions with origins outside the community were viewed as unnecessary- or worse. The Protestant work ethic was embraced by all quarters, and anyone who chose not to hold down a full-time job, for whatever reasons, was considered to be a bum and not worthy of the graces of God's bounty. Bottom line, if you didn't have roots here, it would be best if you just kept moving, although no one would go out of their way to be outwardly nasty or aggressive.
What few lights that illuminated the downtown section of Bethany looked dim to Manny as he entered the town. Actually, this was all right by him, too. He didn't want to attract attention, especially tonight. There would be no mission here, and risky to venture downtown. It would be far safer to stay on the outskirts and try to find shelter for the night.
Dogs barked as he passed, and this was never in his best interests, so when the big black collie jumped off a porch and started make a run at him, Manny could do little but climb the nearest oak and wait. As the dog snapped and growled, Manny saw the lights go on in the house. Since the animal was so large, he made the decision to climb higher and hope the dog would lose interest before his owner decided to investigate. Soon, a large man climbed down the stairs from the porch, the barrel of his scattergun looking small in his arms.
"All right, party's over, pal, come on down. Sit, Gabriel, sit!" Obligingly, the collie cowered a little and lay on the ground beside his master, never taking his eyes off of Manny.
"Could you take your dog inside, please? I'm afraid of him." Manny actually doubted that he would, but it might give him a little insight into who he was dealing with.
"Seems to me that you have bigger problems than this dog, right now. Come down, now, or I swear that they'll be coming to get you in a hearse!"
Why, in the name of all that is holy, had he decided to come to town? He had known better! It was too late to consider running, so Manny slowly climbed back down from the branch he had chosen, and jumped the last six feet onto the grass. Manny raised his hands in the submissive gesture of surrender, and this seemed to please the man. The tall young man, middle thirties, perhaps, would be a formidable foe, if pressed. Manny had absolutely no intention of finding out.
"Please, sir, I was only walking by. I'm no threat to you or your property, please let me go. I'm not armed, and I'm not a thief. The last thing I want is trouble… please..." Manny spoke softly.
"Yea, let you go so you can go steal from one of my neighbors, I guess. You're all alike, you drifters. I've had hundreds of you in my jail, and you just don't get it. Sometimes I think the Good Lord put you on this earth strictly to test me. Well, mister, I'm just about out of patience with your kind, so put both your hands on that tree there, and I'll make sure that you're not stupid enough to lie to me about a weapon. Come on, spread 'em, you know the drill. " With those words, Marshall Michael Black frisked Manny, making him turn his pockets inside out and remove his boots. Then, convinced that Manny had spoken the truth, he put his arm on Manny's and told him to lock his fingers behind his neck. Manny felt the cold steel of the cuffs cutting into his wrists. "I am charging you with trespassing and vagrancy.”
Manny submitted silently as he was read his Miranda rights. He hadn't been arrested for about 12 years, and then only for questioning in a sweep that the I.N.S. had done outside of El Paso. When asked if he understood his rights, he shook his head in acknowledgement as the marshal put him in the seat of his pickup and buckled the seat belt. Why me, I’m not hurting anyone? Oh, well, at least I’ll have a warm place to sleep tonight.
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