Tag Archives: Wild West

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A Left Turn at Albuquerque Continued – Part 09

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By Hunter Perez

Holmgren walked me through unfamiliar corridors within the prison, and as we journeyed I began to develop a very bad headache. I don’t know if it was from the whiskey or if it was a crash from the adrenaline rush I felt in subduing the intruders, but the pain came on quickly. Holmgren had been talking, but in my discomfort I stopped listening to him – which I didn’t realize until he repeated a question twice without my generating an answer.

“You don’t look good – what’s wrong?” he asked.

“I feel like I’m having a migraine headache,” I said. “Do you have aspirin?”

“I don’t think it’s been invented yet,” he said. “But I have something in my kitchen that can make you feel better instantly.”

We walked out into a section of the prison grounds that I didn’t recognize. There were several small stone buildings and a few wooden sheds. A strong wind brought the scent of horse manure that betrayed the presence of the prison’s stables, which Holmgren pointed out to me.

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A Left Turn at Albuquerque Continued – Part 01

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By Hunter Perez

NOTE: This is a sequel! To read the first series, click here

So, how is life mistreating me? Funny that I should ask. Since we last connected, there has been bad news and sort of bad news.

The bad news is that the warden fell in love with Holmgren’s idea of getting the local saloon keeper to pay for his son Zeb’s education while he was incarcerated. As you may recall, Zeb is illiterate, and his dad wants him to take over the saloon business – which is a tad difficult when you can’t read the liquor bottle labels. According to Holmgren, the warden thought the idea was so brilliant that he insisted on a 70 percent to 30 percent split of the “tuition” – the warden, of course, taking the bigger cut. With this scheme, the plan to have my sentence commuted was put on the proverbial back burner – although I fear it will bypass the back burner and go straight into the trash can if the saloon keeper agrees to it.

The sort of bad news was the delay in getting the saloon keeper’s approval – he was called out of town for at least two weeks, thus delaying the finality of whether I would be trapped in prison (if he approved) or set free (if he disapproved). Without a firm answer, I was stuck in limbo – or, to be more precise, the spruced-up solitary confinement cell that was supposed to be a temporary residence on my road to liberty.

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A Left Turn at Albuquerque – Part 06

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By Hunter Perez

I blinked myself out of slumber, but I was in a sorry state. The back of my head throbbed and my body felt cold and stiff. But once I began to regain my composure, I could see why I was cold and stiff – I was naked on a stone floor, with nary a thread to separate me from my surroundings.

Even though my eyes were open, I had trouble focusing. I thought there was someone in sitting on a desk looking down at me, but my vision was too blurred to make out who it was.

“Nicky?” I asked. “What kind of crazy jokes are you playing on me?”

The blurry figure didn’t say anything, and I rubbed my eyes trying to regain my sight.

“I’ve got the worst headache,” to the person I couldn’t see. “Can you get me a couple of Tylenol, please?”

“A couple of what?” responded the person in a low, dull male voice – I couldn’t tell if it was Nicky or someone else.

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