steps with her small high-heeled ones.
Whenever they passed another lady, he deferred to let her pass with a tip of
his hat, then returned his hand to cover Callie’s fingers in the crook of his
elbow.
She was beginning to
like this lady and gentleman stuff.
“So, what do you think
of our little town so far?” he finally asked.
“I think I’ll reserve my
judgment for now. I haven’t seen enough of it yet.”
For a moment, she
thought about what she actually had seen today and it amounted to very little.
She’d gone from the bus station in Barstow to some God-forsaken, no name, speck-on-the-map
town in southern California. From there everyone had been transported to the
way station in cute little Conestoga buses.
So what she’d seen was
desert, mountains, plains, and a long bumpy road on the back of a horse.
“Why all the secrecy
getting here?” she asked. “Why can’t people just drive up, park their car and
change their wardrobe?”
“It’s not secrecy so
much as capturing the essence of the winning of the West. The travel, leaving
possessions behind, assuming new identities. I find it to be a cleansing
process.”
They reached the end of
a boardwalk. Rand stepped down and held up his hand to assist her down the three
steps. She eyed him curiously as they walked across the dirt alleyway and up
the steps of the next boardwalk.
“You really do love
this, don’t you?”
Rand tilted his head. “Do you mean walking with you,
or coming to this town?”
Callie tipped her head
to hide a smile. “The town.”
“Yes, I do. Here I can
be me, at least the me that’s inside struggling to get out.”
“It sounds like the you
that’s on the outside isn’t very happy with his life.”
He stopped and turned to
her. “Let’s just say, some things can’t be changed.” Then, in a lighter tone,
he nodded toward the building behind her. “Care to visit the general store?”
She peered in the
window. “Wow, they’re open late.”
“Everything stays open
late to accommodate all the guests so they can make the most of their stay.”
With a hand at the small of her back, he ushered her inside. “Come on. I want
you to see what they have.”
“Howdy, Rand, ma’am.” The small, thin man behind the counter looked right out of the Old West. His
oiled-down hair, parted in the middle, was slicked behind protruding ears that
barely held a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. He wore a white shirt with armbands
and a soiled apron tied around his middle. “Anything I can git fer you folks
this evenin’?”
Amazed at the assortment
of goods, Callie shrugged at Rand.
“I think we’d just like
to look around a bit, Lloyd. We’re just out for a little stroll,” Rand explained.
“Take yer time and give
a holler if you need anything.”
Callie smiled and began
a closer inspection of the goods displayed here, there and everywhere. She
ogled the licorice and peppermint candy, the leather strips and bolts of
fabric. There were all the usual staples—beans, flour, sugar, coffee, tea, salt—in
old tins and sacks. One table held simple children’s toys like slingshots, and
tops, and kites. A counter on the far wall had personals like ladies’ combs,
men’s razors, shaving creams and such.
“This is wild!” She
giggled, looking back at Rand.
He smiled a pleased
smile. “I thought you’d like it.”
“But how do you buy
anything? We couldn’t bring money in.” Just then it occurred to her that Rand had used some strange sort of currency to purchase his poker chips.
He raised an eyebrow. “Still
haven’t finished the manual, huh?” When she sheepishly shook her head, he
explained. “What was the one modern item you brought in with you?”
She thought for a
moment. “Oh! The ID card.”
“Right. It’s the only
concession to the modern world, for reasons of necessity and security. At the
bank, there’s a closed-off room which houses a sort of teller machine. By using
your ID card, you can transfer
Whenever they passed another lady, he deferred to let her pass with a tip of
his hat, then returned his hand to cover Callie’s fingers in the crook of his
elbow.
She was beginning to
like this lady and gentleman stuff.
“So, what do you think
of our little town so far?” he finally asked.
“I think I’ll reserve my
judgment for now. I haven’t seen enough of it yet.”
For a moment, she
thought about what she actually had seen today and it amounted to very little.
She’d gone from the bus station in Barstow to some God-forsaken, no name, speck-on-the-map
town in southern California. From there everyone had been transported to the
way station in cute little Conestoga buses.
So what she’d seen was
desert, mountains, plains, and a long bumpy road on the back of a horse.
“Why all the secrecy
getting here?” she asked. “Why can’t people just drive up, park their car and
change their wardrobe?”
“It’s not secrecy so
much as capturing the essence of the winning of the West. The travel, leaving
possessions behind, assuming new identities. I find it to be a cleansing
process.”
They reached the end of
a boardwalk. Rand stepped down and held up his hand to assist her down the three
steps. She eyed him curiously as they walked across the dirt alleyway and up
the steps of the next boardwalk.
“You really do love
this, don’t you?”
Rand tilted his head. “Do you mean walking with you,
or coming to this town?”
Callie tipped her head
to hide a smile. “The town.”
“Yes, I do. Here I can
be me, at least the me that’s inside struggling to get out.”
“It sounds like the you
that’s on the outside isn’t very happy with his life.”
He stopped and turned to
her. “Let’s just say, some things can’t be changed.” Then, in a lighter tone,
he nodded toward the building behind her. “Care to visit the general store?”
She peered in the
window. “Wow, they’re open late.”
“Everything stays open
late to accommodate all the guests so they can make the most of their stay.”
With a hand at the small of her back, he ushered her inside. “Come on. I want
you to see what they have.”
“Howdy, Rand, ma’am.” The small, thin man behind the counter looked right out of the Old West. His
oiled-down hair, parted in the middle, was slicked behind protruding ears that
barely held a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. He wore a white shirt with armbands
and a soiled apron tied around his middle. “Anything I can git fer you folks
this evenin’?”
Amazed at the assortment
of goods, Callie shrugged at Rand.
“I think we’d just like
to look around a bit, Lloyd. We’re just out for a little stroll,” Rand explained.
“Take yer time and give
a holler if you need anything.”
Callie smiled and began
a closer inspection of the goods displayed here, there and everywhere. She
ogled the licorice and peppermint candy, the leather strips and bolts of
fabric. There were all the usual staples—beans, flour, sugar, coffee, tea, salt—in
old tins and sacks. One table held simple children’s toys like slingshots, and
tops, and kites. A counter on the far wall had personals like ladies’ combs,
men’s razors, shaving creams and such.
“This is wild!” She
giggled, looking back at Rand.
He smiled a pleased
smile. “I thought you’d like it.”
“But how do you buy
anything? We couldn’t bring money in.” Just then it occurred to her that Rand had used some strange sort of currency to purchase his poker chips.
He raised an eyebrow. “Still
haven’t finished the manual, huh?” When she sheepishly shook her head, he
explained. “What was the one modern item you brought in with you?”
She thought for a
moment. “Oh! The ID card.”
“Right. It’s the only
concession to the modern world, for reasons of necessity and security. At the
bank, there’s a closed-off room which houses a sort of teller machine. By using
your ID card, you can transfer
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