Innocent Retribution

By Jack Kregas

The novel Mystical Glasses, tells the story of Joey Moretti as a young man departing New York City in harrowing circumstances and in his fifties becoming an accidental hero after finding the mystical glasses. This interquel fills the gap of the missing years.

This encounter finds Joey as a lost soul wandering aimlessly through the Western United States until a life changing meeting with Coyote, a Native American. It brings changes to his life that rekindles his spirit, bestows him with love, peace, and fulfillment, invigorating Joey to a level he never dreamed possible.

Circumstances bring him in contact with the unscrupulous Alex, a re-connection with the Moretti family’s expanding empire, and an unimaginable event, which combine to deal a blow few men could withstand.

Joey Moretti becomes the face of Innocent Retribution.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jack Kregas
• Release date: Oct 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370177479

Jack Kregas

Jack Kregas was born in New England in the north east of the United States. After a stint in the US Army, he was discharged in Europe and the next forty years were spent skiing and living life to the max as well as creating several successful businesses.Winters in the Alps and summers windsurfing on Maui, Jack departed Switzerland for Maui full time with his Australian wife and small daughter. After five years he moved the family to Australia and became an Australian citizen.Jack now lives in Brisbane and plays golf and tournament poker. After having published his first book in 2015, an autobiography, It's All About Me and a few others of his adventurous life, he has written another thirteen books the latest being THE VEGAS TRANSACTIONS published in July 2021 and How to lose at Texas Holdem in September 2121.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The day was hot, with the heat shimmering off the sand on either side of the road. The pack with all his belongings weighed heavy on his back. He took the canteen from his belt and took a long drink of the warm water. Maybe it was not such a good idea to take the back roads. He had not seen any sign of a vehicle for hours. He adjusted the backpack and continued walking. His head turned towards a noise he heard off in the distance. Dust could be seen rising behind the fast moving car or truck. The beat-up Ford pickup slowed and stopped before him. A dark-skinned man with long black hair in a ponytail, a plaid shirt, and a big smile opened the door for him.

Too damn hot to be hiking at this time of day, said the man. I’m Coyote. Throw your pack in the back.

I’m Joey, came the answer as he climbed into the truck as it sped off.

You lost or just like walking in the hot desert sun?

Neither. I’m going towards the mountains and decided to take a back road. I really have no plans. I’m just wandering.

I am on my way home. I live near here. If you don’t know where you are going come on home with me. It’s rough but it’s mine.

I appreciate the ride but don’t want to put you out.

Not at all. Some of the redskins in this area are friendly, said Coyote laughing. You don’t look like a government man coming to steal more of our land.

Joey looked at Coyote, puzzled, Are they still doing that?

Don’t get me started. It’s been a never-ending battle for more than a hundred and fifty years. They give us the most worthless land and then, if they discover some value or decide they need a place to dump nuclear waste, they want it back.

I don’t know much of the Native American history except what I learned in school and saw in the movies. I know that is all shit. The real story, I know nothing about.

The Shoshone speaking Chemuevi and Seranno Indians occupied most of this area in the old days. I belong to an offshoot of these tribes. We are a small band but own much of the land here. As you can see, unless you are into eating sand and cactus, there is little you can do with it.

I find it beautiful in a natural way. Peaceful but full of life if you stop to look for it. What do you do here, I mean for work?

There is no work. Most of us have moved out of the reservations to scrape out a living at minimum wages. I chose to stay and look after my family and others who have joined me. We plant food and sell it at local markets. Some do odd jobs or work on farms seasonally. Many Indians today rely on government handouts. I don’t.

The truck turned off the road onto a dirt track. The track then climbed higher along a ridge, into a series of jagged hills. Joey continued to chat with Coyote. He felt a rapport with him even though he had been in the truck less than an hour. Joey could sense that he was a proud man with intelligence and inner strength while also being open minded and honest. Joey was uncertain how he sensed these traits but was convinced his assessment was correct.

The road turned a sharp corner and ascended a steep grade arriving at a plateau that stretched out before them. In the distance, Joey could make out buildings that he assumed were the home of Coyote. The village consisted of trailers, some doublewide like homes in a modern trailer park where the structures never move. Others were little more than tin sheds. There were two large tepees, bigger than any Joey had ever seen even in the movies. The truck pulled to a halt.

We’re here, said Coyote.

Five or six children ran to meet the truck along with a woman who walked to Coyote and kissed him.

Joey, this is my wife, Aponi.

Aponi smiled at Joey. Joey held out his hand to her.

I found Joey wandering around the desert. I invited him to stay with us for a few days. This here is Flo, my daughter, and that devil over there is Maska, said Coyote pointing to a tall thin boy who looked like his father in miniature. There are about two hundred of us who choose to live here. Please feel welcome.

Joey was dumbfounded. He thanked Coyote then took his pack out of the back of the truck. He saw there were other boxes and helped Coyote unload the supplies that had evidently been the reason for his trip to the nearest town. Aponi opened the boxes, sorting the various items and taking them into the house.

Follow me. I’ll show you where you can sleep.

Joey followed Coyote to a trailer that was about thirty yards behind and to the side of his home.

You can find what you need in here and then eat with us tonight. We eat about seven. Till then make yourself comfortable.

I really don’t know what to say. This is all so unexpected. I feel I am imposing, and then somehow, I think this was all meant to be. Weird, if you know what I mean. I am not sure I do?

There are spirits in these hills. They’re present all around us. Things happen. It is not always a question of why. It’s better to go along. See you at dinner. Coyote turned and walked toward his house.

Joey put his pack inside the trailer. He sat on the steps and looked around. Coyote’s home was two trailers put together as one, with a deck space facing west to catch the evening sun. There were some other buildings nearby while many were here and there as far as Joey could see. He walked out into the yard taking in the landscape.

The plateau he was on went as far as the eye could see. On one side, the land rose sharply making a wall of cliffs and peaks. The other rose gently with high hills in the background that appeared to be miles away. Near some of the houses were corrals with horses. Dogs and chickens as well as a few mules could also be seen. Joey glanced up at the sky that was a never ending blue. No pollution, a few trucks, no streetlights, no noise, in fact, none of the surroundings were what Joey was accustomed to.

He went back into the house removing his clothes. The shower was hot, refreshing his body. It had been a few days. He soaped up, rinsed off, and then did it again. Drying himself, he opened his pack to find his cleanest dirty shirt and jeans. He would have to do some laundry in the next days, he thought. After brushing his hair and cleaning his teeth, he looked in the mirror, figuring that he scrubbed up real good. He went outside, sat in the large lounge chair that was beside the steps, and breathed in the fresh air. Closing his eyes, he relaxed.

Chapter 2

The noises of the streets of New York filled his head. The inside of his apartment looked familiar and the lady on the bed, he knew, was Bianca. Then he saw her body inside a coffin being carried by men with no faces. He saw brain matter splattered against the inside of a large black car. Next, he was on some steps speaking to his uncle who was in pain, with three bullet holes in him. Uncle Rico looked in disbelief as the pistol fired a last shot into his head. Joey saw his cousin talking to him but did not hear what he was saying. All his possessions were being sold and in a flash, he was in Texas walking with a backpack towards a hostel. These were the demons cluttering Joey’s mind and his dreams. A few years of wandering here and there with no particular outcome had done little to ease the struggle or the memories that haunted him. Would he ever clear his mind? Could he bury the past?

Wake up man. It’s time to eat. I called out but you didn’t answer.

Joey opened his eyes to see Coyote standing above him. He shook his head to clear the pleasant and unpleasant visions from his mind. What was real or just a dream? Would they ever go away? Perhaps if he could feel happy and be in a peaceful place, the past would fade and the present would be in his dreams?

I must have fallen asleep. Joey got to his feet and followed Coyote.

Inside Coyote and Aponi’s home was larger than it looked from the outside. It had begun small but one could see there had been add-ons over the years. The living and dining area was spacious, taken up by a large table with seating for ten or more. Joey took a seat beside Flo. Coyote was talking to Maska as Aponi placed a bowl of some sort of stew on the table. The smell reminded Joey of how hungry he was.

Help yourself, said Aponi taking her place at the table.

I will. I have to admit I am hungry.

Eat up. Food we have plenty of, said Coyote. Tell me Joey, where are you from? I would guess somewhere around the East Coast.

Good guess. New York. And, the next question will be, what am I doing here, walking around. Frankly, I don’t know. I left New York and have been on the road for a while. No plan. I am lucky you gave me a lift and I’m now sitting here enjoying your food. I am willing to work if there is something for me to do. I’m not a freeloader.

If you want to hang around for a few days, I could use a hand to tidy up a few things around here.

Just tell me what you want done. I will do whatever.

Have some more food. We will start in the morning.

Joey had not had a home cooked meal in months. He was not sure what he was eating. The taste was spiced, giving it a Mexican flavor, as well as another flavor he couldn’t identify. He replenished his plate and continued the conversation during the meal. It was dark, but the ski was clear and alive with stars when he made his way to his trailer. This was a good place with good people. A place he was content to stay for a while.

Joey walked with Coyote down the dirt road leading away from his house. They had had a breakfast of corn tortillas, eggs, smoked bacon, and plenty of coffee. Now where they were heading, Joey had no idea.

My ancestors were part of this land, running free for as far as you can see in all directions. Treaties changed like the weather and we were left with the less desirable areas. We now have the desert area bordering around Palm Desert and Palm Springs, and the plateau you are standing on. If anyone had bothered to look, we would probably not have this.

It is amazing here. Why is it so green up ahead?

There is a spring that feeds the lake. The snowmelt runoff helps to keep it at a usable level. There is plenty of water for the number of us who live here.

Up ahead Joey could see the landscape change from sand to pasture land with trees and animals grazing. They walked at a steady pace, talking as they went. Joey had a hundred questions to ask Coyote but didn’t want to push it. He would take his time.

My parents died when I was fifteen. Proper attention probably could have prolonged their lives. We were living closer to the main highway in an Indian ghetto of drugs, alcohol, and poverty. I left and worked in Arizona on a farm, went to night school earning a high school diploma, and then spent two years at a junior college. I came back just before my parents died. My father told me to go to the top of the plateau. That it was the place to live. That there, I could live anyway I chose. He made me promise I would go up there. He died shortly after this.

Joey stopped walking and stared at Coyote. He smiled and then continued to walk.

I drove my old car until the road ended and then climbed up the trail that we drove up. It was only a trail then, steep and hard going. I walked the entire length of this place. I slept under the stars lying with my head against a stump. I know it sounds like bullshit but during that night, I could hear my father speaking in the Serrano language. I didn’t understand the words but the meaning was clear to me. I was to live here. This was to be my home. I was to gather those who would follow me and make a new tribe. There was more. In the morning, I felt tired and confused, not knowing what was real, a dream or some magical intervention but was absolutely certain that I was meant to be here. I went back down the trail, sold my car and bought an old four-wheel drive truck. I used all my money to buy camping gear and assorted things I thought I would need.

I guess you never thought about going back to school. How did you build the road up here?

I camped up here by the lake. Jose, a young Mexican who was on the run from immigration, joined me. He now lives with his wife down the road from me. We walked up and down the trail mapping where we could build a road. I talked to many of those living in the village where my parents had lived. They thought I was crazy and laughed at me. Jose and I ‘liberated’ a bulldozer and trailer near Barstow. They found the trailer abandoned near Los Angeles but the whereabouts of the bulldozer remains a mystery. Six months later, we had a road of sorts, one that allowed me to get the truck up here. We were also over twenty by then.

What a story. The police never bothered you?

They don’t give shit what Indians do as long as they do it on their land and out of their sight. We have had very few outsiders come up here. It is not that easy to find.

When you’ve had enough of me, you can send me down the road.

Okay. First I will have to see if you are any good at fixing a fence.

By noon, Joey was covered in sweat. His back was turning red so he put his shirt back on. Digging fencepost-holes was hard work. He liked it and the constant conversation with Coyote. In the distance, there were horses and goats grazing. The only noise was from birds and the wind as it moved through the trees.

Did you buy those horses? asked Joey.

No, I caught them. They were wild mustangs. There are plenty of them if you know where to look. They are wild and can be very nasty. You have to break them in and then train them. Some settle down, some you let loose.

I have never been on a horse. I never had the chance.

"Tomorrow will be your chance. Here we ride bareback. No helmets, no other fancy bullshit. You will learn. I have just the