(If they are, they'll tell you. If they aren't, there's no need to embarrass them.)

An expletive was thrown out and immediately followed by the same voice dropping an f-bomb. Circumstantially this could be accepted, perhaps off-putting, but accepted. This time, however, the Ranger was standing on a corner awaiting the light to change so he could cross the intersection while a lady with her two children stood immediately to his right.

The Ranger wheeled around to see some possibly twenty-one or twenty-two year old punt talking on his cell phone loudly. His language was highly unacceptable in the present situation and no one was calling him out on it. The Ranger took in a breath and in his drill sergeant voice barked at the man. "Hey! Watch yer mouth!" He stuck out his arm and pointed at the man. The man blinked, it had been a long time since someone called him out on his language, and never had it been someone he had never met out on the street.

After the man recoiled from being dumbstruck he replied with,"Why should I?" The man lowed his cell phone and took a defensive posture.

Maintaining his commanding tone the Ranger stated, "There's a lady presen', an' her chil'ren ta boot." He motioned indicate the woman beside him.

The Ranger hoped that it would end there, that this guy would realize he was in the wrong and it would be over. Yet, he didn't... he was obviously cruising for a bruising.

"So what if a lady is present! What difference does that make!"

Tarin was walking down the street, grocery bags in hand. It was an improvement over things that had been happening recently. There weren’t any expired cartons of milk in the fridge, the trash had been taken out that morning, and all the clothes in the apartment were clean. Sure, there was still a gaping hole in his chest and life, but Tarin was doing okay. He’d make it.

Mostly, it was because now he had people in his corner. He had Lenna, he had Shin, he had that Detective with the MRC. There were people helping him figure out what he needed to do to find Lee. The weight off his chest was incredible. He could breathe.

He could also hear little punks who thought they could use any language they wanted on the telephone.

Tarin was just about to open his mouth to reprimand the youth when someone beat him to the punch.

The sounds of home were like music to his ears, and for a minute Tarin longed for the place he’d left so long ago. The mannerisms, the speech…the Medium smiled.

The youth shot back a retort and Tarin took the opportunity to step in.

”It matters because your mother should have taught you better.” Tarin said, his own accent slipping through slightly.

”And you should treat every lady you meet like you’d want someone to treat your mother or sister.”

The punk had come back with some nonsense informing the Ranger he was either an ungrateful little piece of slime or his parents didn't bring him up right. Before he could respond another man stepped in to smack down the uncivilized Yankee, though as far the Ranger was concerned most Yankees could stand to be a bit more civilized.

"It matters because your mother should have taught you better. And you should treat every lady you meet like you’d want someone to treat your mother or sister.”

The accent surprised the Ranger. It was buried, hidden down under the influence of possibly years among Yanks, but without a doubt this man was a fellow Texan.

The man, now being reamed by multiple people showed his stupidity by continuing to argue, and perhaps to make a point decided to loose his tongue even more. "F---, what does what I say even matter! Who cares if some b---- is around to hear it!..."

He was cut off, the Ranger moved forward and puffed out his chest to look larger. The man had been warned, and chose to continue. The Ranger had moved to be directly in front of the man. The Ranger dwarfed the man, not in height, the Yankee was about an inch taller, but in overall size. What hope does some street trash have to compare to a former special operator who works to keep his body in good shape. "Listen here, you may think the Sun rose jus' ta hear ya crow but I got news fer you buddy row; your engine is runnin' but nobody's drivin' and if you insist on mouthin' off here my boot an' yer rump migh' have ta get a liddle bedder acquain'ed." The Ranger ended his statement by stepping his right leg off a little to the side and tapping the toe a few times on the concrete. "Some good ol' Texas behavior modification, nex' best thing to a daddy's belt. Yer call boy."

The Yankee was obviously pissed, but his gears were turning and he knew messing with a guy with more meat on his bones and some backup in the wings was a bad idea.

The small smile that had bloomed on Tarin’s face at the first hit of accent grew exponentially as the unwise youth decided it would be a good idea to push the envelope. More explicatives flew from the unwise mouth, and the man who had spoken up initially launched into a Texas-sized tirade that left the offensive youth staring in disbelief.

Tarin had to chuckle. The kid looked around like he was on some kind of hidden camera Television show and someone had just ran up to him jabbering in a foreign language. Honestly, Tarin supposed, that was the truth. Texas had a special cadence and vernacular all its own.

”What he means…in language you’ll understand better…is that whether or not you think you’re the center of the universe…you’re not. And you’re out of your mind. Also, if you don’t knock it off, you’re going to get a nice taste of Texas-style discipline.”

For the first time, the kid sized up the man who was cautioning him. 1-on-1 was good odds, he could handle himself. There were people starting to pay attention now, though, and a second had joined the cause. He nodded his head and shrugged his shoulders in his over-large hoodie.

”I think you owe these ladies all an apology.” Tarin said with a smile, and a nod in the direction of the other Texan.

The Ranger felt his statement had been clear enough, though when the other man reiterated his statement but differently he realized that in his annoyance he dropped a paragraph full of colloquialisms that Yankees aren't familiar with. He then informed the punk that he owed the ladies present an apology, which indeed he did.

A hand came down on the man's shoulder, hard. He leaned a bit to one side as the hand guided him forward and to the Ranger's side, facing the crowd observing odd sight before them. The punk tried to worm his way free, but the Ranger just squeezed, digging his thumb into the man's collarbone.

"Alright, now wha' do you wan' ta say to these ladies?"

His muteness was met by a much harder squeeze prompting him to speak, "...I'm sorry."

"Oh, c'mon now. Say it like you mean it."

"I'm...I'm sorry I was swearing in front of you guys. it was insincere, only to get the pain to stop. The Ranger knew that but the whole situation could serve as a lesson. Don't swear in front of ladies! Texans will tear you a new one if they hear it.

The apology given, the Ranger pushed the guy lightly. He was free to leave.

Tarin heartily approved of the other Texan’s actions. It didn’t take him long to elicit an apology from the culprit, no matter how forced the thing was. The people in the small crowd of commuters were grateful, Tarin could see it on their faces. They were also surprised though. It was disappointing. The people should have looked vindicated, pleased, but they shouldn’t have looked surprised.

The other man released his hold on the dirty mouthed one, and he skittered away like the cockroach he was. Tarin nodded his head as he watched, and approached his fellow countryman. ”Isn’t it sad…how all of them were just going to stand by and let him get away with that?” he said, the offered his hand.

”I’m Tarin Brooks. Whereabouts are you from?”

The other Texan approached the Ranger after the punk had left, ”Isn’t it sad…how all of them were just going to stand by and let him get away with that?” He then raised his hand for a handshake and introduced himself. ”I’m Tarin Brooks. Whereabouts are you from?”

The Ranger took his hand, a good firm handshake and reciprocated the introduction, "You said it friend, what's the world comin' too. Lettin' a man swear in fron' of lady unchallenged... Michael Hunter, howdy." he broke the handshake following providing his name and then answered the question. He had previously provided enough information, and his accent detailed he hailed from Texas so he skipped that part and went more locally."I'm from Aggieland... College Station." he added the city name since some people, even Texans are unfamiliar with the term Aggieland. "What abou' yerself?"

Tarin nodded his head as the other Texan echoed his thoughts. ”What would the world do without us?” he asked, and the best part was, he was serious. The man introduced himself as Michael and Tarin committed the name to memory. When you met a fellow Texan this far north…you made note.


Tarin asked where Michael was from, and he answered quickly and easily, pulling a smile from the Medium.

“You’re from further South than I am. I’m from off 277 north of Wichita Falls.” Tarin said automatically, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

”I haven’t lived there for years though.”

”It’s true what they say though, you can take the boy out of Texas, but you can’t take the Texas out of the boy.”

”What would the world do without us?”

"As Sam Houston said, Texas can make it without the United States, but the United States can't make it without Texas."

Tarin then explained where he hailed from, up near Wichita Falls. The Ranger was unfamiliar with that area. Texas is a mighty big place and nearly impossible to hit up all the highlights.

"I've been away a long time myself, I was outta the country fer several years an' headed up here shortly after I got back. An' I like ta think I bring a little bit a the Lonestar state up here with me. I ain't sure how these Yanks survived without me sometimes."

”Amen to that.” Tarin said when Michael quoted Sam Houston. Tarin was amused, he was even calling the other man “Michael” in his head. The medium didn’t know exactly what, but something about the other man suggested that he wouldn’t appreciate being called “mike”

Tarin could tell the other man wasn’t sure exactly where he was talking about when he described his hometown. That was fine, Texas was a big place. The important thing was that he’d been right, they were both Texans. With everything else going on, it felt like a bright spot in a really dark night.

Michael kept talking, and Tarin actually laughed out loud. ”You really do bring a little piece of home up here. I think the world would fall apart if some of us hadn’t managed to migrate north to inject a little bit of civility into the masses.”

The light at the intersection changed and Tarin prepared to step out into the street with the rest of the crowd, hoping that the other Texan was going the same direction. It was so rare to find someone else who was so Texan. ”I’ve lived here for a few years now and I’m adjusting. Are winters impossible for you too? “

"Well these Yanks've been comin' down ta Texas an' fillin' our cities with people who can't manage anythin' themselves nor drive in a friendly manner; I figured I could attack the problem at the source. It idn't hard to move into the shoulder an' let someone pass, nor does it hurt ya ta wave ta other drivers when yer drivin' past each other on some back road."

He truly hated how on long drives back home people would drive below the speed limit on single lane roads and not move over to allow for faster traffic to pass. Back home they called it either California driving or New York driving, showing obvious disdain for the attitudes of people from both places.

The light changed, traffic came to a stop and the crosswalk light changed to show it was now time to cross. The Ranger turned to face with the flow of pedestrians, the leather on the bottom of his boot sliding against the concrete as lifting your foot completely while wearing boots wasn't truly necessary. The move generated a scraping noise that would be all to familiar back in small town Texas.

"Oh lord, the winter's here! Back home we'd get a few days below freezing at worst, here it can be whole month. Though I think these Yanks would panic back in Texas. it hit a long spell of upper eighties and above and you'd've thought the world was endin'. Hell where I'm from we've had two months straight with highs over one-hundred."

The Ranger moved with the crowd, though at a slower pace. He was involved in a conversation with someone who was there with him. Not like all the Yanks on there phones yellin' to each other like they wanted others to overhear them or something. Yet, they were probably the kind of people who would complain if there was any indication you were actually overhearing it.

As Michael talked about Texas and how the influx of Yankees caused problems, Tarin couldn’t help but laugh and nod his head. ”Even when I was a kid, my dad used to complain about the way Yankees drove.” It was true, Tarin could remember riding around in his dad’s pickup, learning the two-fingered farmer’s wave, and the scowl that crossed his dad’s face when it wasn’t returned.

On to the weather they went, moving across the intersection with the flow of pedestrian traffic. Michael spoke of Texas winters and Tarin laughed, nodding his head, ”When I first met my wife, she was nearly convinced I’d up and run before my first winter here was over. She’s Canadian…so yeah, that kind of summer would be ridiculous to her.”

Tarin almost stumbled a step when he realized how casually he was talking about Lee. It didn’t hurt so bad…and he’d used the present tense. It had to be the conversation he’d had with that Detective. It helped to know someone was actively working.

”She once said that there were only two seasons in Canada, winter and construction season.”


They kept walking, and Tarin shrugged his shoulders, ”So why the migration? I know you said you were out of the country…and as kind of is of you to apply yourself to educating these people is, I know that’s not why I ended up here.”

"Well tha's som'in. Texan married to a Canadian who's livin' in the States. How very cosmopolitan." The Ranger obviously playing on the long running joke that Texas is its own nation.

Obviously the Canadian's had to do contruction, they lived in buildings, but the Ranger generally thought about them in the context of being exporters of snow, maple syrup, and polar bears while driving on zambonis and messing up the last letter of the alphabet. The Ranger just didn't know when they would have a season conducive to working outside where you need use of fine motor skills and grip.

Tarin then posed the question as to why he had come to New York. Most people frowned on what was essentially vigilantism, he would have to address it carefully. "I enlisted right out'a high school, I made it into the 75th Ranger Regiment, an' before long I was bein' shipped around the world. Followin' a tour I decided t' put my skills to use up here. Specifically New York City since it seems t' be a hotbed."

”I know, right? I’m waiting for the networks to contact me about a made for TV movie. It’s downright poetic.” Tarin responded, almost starting to cling to the normalcy of this conversation. It felt like it had been so long since he’d done anything this…normal. Shin had been so right, so had Lenna. It had always been important to Lee that they be as normal as possible, doing a triple back flip off the deep end when she’d disappeared had been ridiculous. ”I took her home.” he said, the sound of his words slowly working back to their native cadence. ”Before we got married. Despite her geographical disability, my Mama loved her. Then again, it’s kind of impossible to not love Lee.” Tarin stopped gushing, it was unseemly.

Tarin nodded his head at the other Texan as he explained the real way he’d gotten to New York City. Interesting. Very interesting. It seemed Michael had a very specific set of skills that suited life in a city like New York. ”That it is.” the Medium said, debating how much of his own story to tell. It was only fair to give the other man something after he’d been so candid, ”I ran. “ he said simply, ”From things in Texas that I didn’t really have any control of. I did a lot of travelling for a long, long time. Then I came here.”

Tarin took a moment to look around at the bustling people, the bumper-to-bumper traffic, the stereotypical New York drama, and the buildings that blocked out the sun. ”I have to admit…in spite of…everything,” he said with an expansive gesture he had to assume Michael would understand, ”I kind of love it here.”

Tarin cracked a joke and nrought up a trip he made back home with, who Tarin know identified as being named, Lee. Tarin sounded like he genuinely loved his wife, something that seemed to not exist here. So often Ranger would see someone who was married that would turn around and engage in extramarital relations. Though, that could be because the threat of your partner's husband coming home early had a lesser chance of leading to a lethal dose of lead. Though, it could also be that he is more observant to it now that he is in New York and less distracted by either school or the military.

"A Canadian down in Texas, now that must've been a sight. I always thought they'd've melted if they came down that far south."

Tarin briefly summarized how his past led him to the city. It was very sparse on details but that just made it evident it was personal matters. Most likely not the kind of things talked about with someone met on the street. That could be inferred mostly from the fact it was bad enough that he had to leave Texas.

Tarin then admitted that he kind of loved it in New York. That was a surprise to the Ranger. How could a Texan like it up deep in Yankee territory? Sure it is a good place to visit, to be cultured people should visit other cultures, but New York?

"I like it here, it's an interestin' place. But I don't think I could love a big city. I like bein' out in the sticks or at least in a small city too much. I'm a Ranger in more than one sense uh the word."