Gatekeeper's Secret
Copyright© 2026 by Fick Suck
Chapter 10
Grady pulled to the side at the front gate and hopped out of his truck. “How’s it going, Enrique?”
“You pull miracles out of your ass, Grady,” Enrique said. “The cable crew is already stringing wire, and the cameras they brought are better quality and a better price than I could find on the internet. You must have gotten pictures of the Cable Company president fucking a donkey because that’s the only explanation I can imagine.”
“If they exist, I would pay to see those pics,” Grady said, “but the truth is more mundane. Grandpa owned stock in the company from its beginnings. Jedidiah is still getting name recognition in certain places. Did you pick up the motion detectors?”
“I’m having them shipped,” Enrique said with a grimace. “My wife was not happy with my suggestion of a road trip. She thinks I’m going to spend my time in the strip joints and titty bars.”
“You were,” Grady said. “You married her because she isn’t stupid and then you get mad because she isn’t stupid.”
Enrique waggled his finger. “Just wait, Grady. That pretty little senorita is going to slip a collar and leash on you before you know it. You’re gonna take one tiny step in another direction and she is going to yank on that collar hard. It’s gonna hurt, my friend.”
“Hey, her mother likes me.”
“Oo, the collar is already set. What’s her father do?”
“He’s a hydrologist working for the federal government,” Grady said. “I didn’t meet him yet. I’m taking that pretty senorita out for dinner at one of the ski resorts in Tuckerton on Saturday.” Grady threw up his hand with exasperation when he realized he was being told what to do already. “It doesn’t matter. What I wanted to tell you is the horse trailer is supposed to show up on Monday. Today is Friday; can we get a working gate up by the end of the day tomorrow?”
“Yes, the foundations are set, and another day of curing is icing on the cake. Chano and I can take the van over to the depot this afternoon and pick up the gates. They’ve been sitting there for a couple of days already. If you can help, we can have the gates complete by, what, mid-afternoon?”
“Good. I’m running into town. Is there anything that I need to pick up?”
“We’re good,” Enrique said. “I’ve got your cell number if something pops up. Where’re you heading?”
“Ridgecrest Ranch has a horse for sale that I want to check out,” Grady said. “Next week I’ll have a working ranch again.” An errant thought ran through his brain. “I wonder if my little senorita knows how to pluck chickens? Another day, another question. Bye.”
Keeping to his schedule, Grady ran up the steps to the high school fifteen minutes before last bell. He dropped off a paper to the senior composition teacher even though he could have sent it by email. Having executed his manufactured excuse, he was standing next to Randy’s locker when the bell rang.
“Dude,” he heard a familiar voice call out.
“Randy, all your limbs appear to be intact,” Grady commented.
“I’m not in trouble, Grady,” Randy said as he spun the dial on his lock. He jerked the lock, and the yoke released from its latch. “Darla on the other hand, is in limbo between being a responsible young woman and sneaking nookie behind her parents’ backs. Her mother can’t make up her mind.”
“Yeah, she was on a tear,” Grady said. “Laia says I have brass balls.”
“You shut Darla’s mother down, that’s for sure. I have never had a stranger ride home than when we left your house. She would speak, she would stop. She would start a thought and then she would think better of it, letting half a sentence linger in the air.”
“What did your parents say?”
Randy gave the so-so sign with his hands. “They asked if everything was consensual and were we taking precautions. I told them it was her idea in the first place, and I would follow her to the ends of the earth, which we all agreed your ranch is close to one of the ends. It’s not like she hasn’t been to dinner at my house and me at her house. I asked them if anyone was surprised that we’re doing the two-belly boogie?”
“The two-belly boogie? You did not say that to your parents, did you?”
“Hey, I know my parents,” Randy said. “Mom nearly fell out of her chair laughing and dad snorted so hard, he had to wipe snot off his face. I’ll get my phone back tomorrow. We’re cool.”
“Good to hear,” Grady said as they walked out the front door. “You want to earn a few bucks tomorrow? The horses are supposed to arrive on Monday and there is a shit-ton to do on the property. You’ll need your work gloves, and I’ll feed you lunch.”
“Let me see if I can get my dad to drop me off if you’ll run me home tomorrow,” Randy said, pushing open the door.
“I guess asking Darla if she wants to work tomorrow is probably a bad idea,” Grady said. “The bunk house and the barn need a thorough cleaning before I can assess what else needs to be done. I’ve got a new commode and a new sink with cabinet on the truck right now.”
“Ask her dad,” Randy said. “I overheard they’re having some money issues and he’s not getting the referrals lately.”
“Damn, I’ll have to stop by the bank for some cash then,” Grady said. “Can I give you a lift home?” He got a thumbs up. Grady took the time to catch up on the gossip among their friends and others. The miscreants who pulled the fire alarm had not been identified much to everyone’s delight. Randy wanted to bet there would be a copycat prank soon, but Grady refused to take the bet.
After filling his tank, Grady pulled over to the side of the gas station. He took a pull of his Gatorade before punching in the numbers to the Jenkins’ house. Crossing his fingers for luck, he held his breath as the phone line rang. “Hello?” said the deep male voice on the other end and Grady released his lungs. He explained what he needed and asked Mr. Jenkins if he was available tomorrow. The man was amiable and polite. At the end of the conversation after Mr. Jenkins agreed to come, Grady pitched a second offer to have Darla come to a deep clean of the bunk house. Her father did not have an answer and Grady simply offered that if she showed, great, and if she did not, he would make other arrangements. They spoke their goodbyes, and Grady tossed his empty bottle in the barrel sitting at the corner of the lot.
At home he shoveled a couple of boiled hot dogs on buns down his gullet before making his way back to the barn. He had a fresh pair of chemically resistant gloves and a respirator. He lit the burn barrel as well before going down into the storeroom. His goal tonight was to clear out enough space to set up a card table in the middle of the mess.
Having no context of where any one item came from or when, he had decided that his first task was to sort by type. He took two of his empty five-gallon buckets and set them up against the wall. Staffs went in one and ones made of unknown materials went in the other. When they threatened to tip over, he shoved the buckets in the corner. He counted seven swords of varying lengths, heft and again, unknown materials; he shoved them in a third bucket.
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