Conception

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Dreamzzz

(It all started as a dream more than 5 years ago. I've been carrying it around in my head all this time, but now I'm going to write it down. ................... ~~~ 1 January 1981 ~~~)

TO MY DARLING CHILD:
I am going to write this down while it is still fresh in my mind. I think it is important that someday you learn of your conception. Also, why I am choosing to keep you, and raise you myself instead of giving you up for adoption, as I believe and unwed mother should do under normal circumstances.

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It was a chilly November day and the cold wind whipped into the boxcar that Rita, my friend, and I rode in. The train had slowed down going up the steep mountain grade. We had gotten a glimpse of the town in the near distance.

We rounded a curve and I saw smoke rising from a clearing. There was a building standing amid the smoke hanging in the air.
"Let's get off here?" I exclaimed. The place seemed to call to me.

"Naw, the next burg is only about a mile away. We can get a room and some food there."

But something was calling me! I had to stop at this place!
"No, let's spend the night here. It draws me."

"No," Rita whined, "I want to go on into town. I don't want to jump off out here in the middle of nowhere."

"OK, have it your way, but I'm gettin' out here, Rita. I'll catch up with you in a couple of days." I threw my pack out the door and jumped out after it.

"Rina! Come back here!" Rita yelled.

I scrambled to my feet and ran along side the train. "Come on with me, quick!" Rita shook her head, no. "Then I'll meet you in town in a day or so!"

"I'll see you in town, then, because I'm not getting off here!" Rita yelled over the noise of the train.

"OK, ... I'll see you then." I panted to a stop. When I caught my breath I went and picked up my pack. I picked my way through the timber, blow downs and brush. I had to cross a ravine with a creek at the bottom, that I hadn't realized was there. It was farther than I had expected.

When I finally reached the clearing it was dusk. I crept into the old building and looked around. I couldn't see much so I rummaged through my pack sack until I found my flashlight. I looked around. I was in the lobby of an old time hotel. I walked over to the desk; the register was still there. I opened it up and the last entry was: "November 8th 1867"

"Hey! That's today only a century ago!"

Just for the heck of it I signed in; my name and the date. Then I went upstairs to find a room. I selected the front room that over looked the street.

I deposited my pack sack on the floor and looked around. The bed was made though it was terribly dusty. I opened the door to the wardrobe. There hung a nice coat. It had the look of being hand made from an army blanket. It was a long full coat with a hood. The sleeves were raglan. I took it out, shook it and tried it on. It just fit!

Just then I heard an awful noise from outside. It sounded like gunshots and men hooting and hollering. I ran to the window. I couldn't believe my eye! The two building across the street were not piles of ashes any more but, sturdy, solid, false front saloons.
There were men in the street -- miners by their garb -- shooting guns into the air.

"Whoopee! I struck it rich! Come one, come all! Drinks are on me!"

"Hey, everybody, drinks are on Stanley!"

Men streamed from everywhere, hurrying to the saloon.
I whirled from the window and strode from the room. I skipped down the stairs and outside. The clerk behind the desk never looked up.

I ran out to the middle of the street and looked around. I could see the men and the dance hall floozies milling around inside the saloons. The bat wing doors were still swinging from the last man in.

I stood in the middle of the street taking stock of my surroundings. The two saloons in front of me, the hotel behind me and a livery stable and corral a ways down the street to my left, and that was the town.

All of a sudden three sharp whistles pierced the air. I nearly jumped out of my skin. Then from my left came a great black stallion bearing down on me; reins, mane, stirrups, tail, and four white feet flying. He was nearly on me. I was frozen in my tracks; I couldn't move.

"Stop!" I screamed, waving my arms. The stallion swerved at the last moment. I threw my hands up and grabbed the reins. I was jerked off my feet. Visions of me being trampled beneath flying hooves flashed through my mind. Curling my legs forward, when gravity brought me down I landed on springs. I flew up again. The next thing I knew I landed in the saddle. The wind and stallion's mane whipped my face until I couldn't see for the tears in my eyes. All I could do was hang onto the saddle horn for dear life. We raced on; time melted into nothingness.

Once again I heard the three sharp piercing whistles. My mount wheeled left at right angles. If I hadn't been holding onto the saddle horn I would have been left sitting in the dirt. As it was I only got a mild whiplash out of the sudden change of directions.
We crashed into the underbrush of the forest. The tree branches whipped my face and tore at my hair. Several times I was almost snatched from the saddle, even though I was bending low.
The stallion slowed, broke pace and jounced to a stop. This time I almost went off over his head.

I heard a man's deep kindly voice, "Easy, boy, easy. Wal, wal, wal, what have we here?" Gently he lifted me down from his horse, and steadied me against his chest, for my legs were shaking so that they wouldn't hold me.

"Wal, miss, I trust you had a smooth ride. Jet here is the smoothest ridin' hoss fer miles around."

"I did not!" I flashed at him. "I was never so scared in all my life!"

"Wal, now, I'm rite sorry you were scared, miss. But, I'd gamble thet yur ride on Jet was smooth, an' I ain't a gamblin' man."
"Jet you call him? Yes, he's about as fast as a jet, all right."

The man gave me the strangest, puzzled look. The strange happenings since I walked into the ghost town flashed through my mind, giving me chills up and down my spine, so much that I shivered.

"Is something the matter?" he asked with concern in his voice, and holding me tightly against him. I looked up into his kindly and ruggedly handsome face.

"What year is this?" I asked him.

Now he looked really confused. "1867, of course! Why do you ask?"

"Uh, well... that is... I think I must have gotten a bump on my head. Either that or I'm dreaming."

He threw back his head and laughed, joyful, ringing, laughter. "I thought I was the one who was dreamin'. Please pardon me, ma'am, fer bein' so bold, but I do believe yu'r one of the most beautiful women I've ever laid eyes on."

"Why, thank you, kind sir," I solemnly accepted his compliment, then grinned wickedly, my eyes twinkling mischievously, as I continued, "But, I'd venture to guess that there aren't very many women in this part of the country, are there?"

"No there ain't!"

"There! You see?" But I could see that he didn't, so I continued, "With nothing to compare to, any moderately pretty girl would look beautiful."

He opened his mouth, but made no sound for just then more shots and hoarse yells were heard from "town". Also, staccato yells.

He shut his mouth. Drawing his eyes to slits, he cocked his ear to the wind to listen.

"Injuns! Com'on, an' quiet!" Grabbing up a dead branch he handed it to me. "Follow an' wipe out our tracks; not too much and not too little." Then he grabbed Jet's reins and led the way to the ravine that I had crossed earlier in the day. He found us a secluded spot, a dense stand of timber that afforded us plenty of protection with strategic peak holes.

He took his rifle from the scabbard and checked it. Then he unsaddled Jet and tied him to a tree. He gave me one of his pistols. I protested.

"Uh-uh," I shoved it back toward him. "I can't use that thing! I'm a flower-child, peace-man," I held up my first two fingers in a "V". "You know, a conscientious objector. I've never touched a gun in my life. Besides, I don't believe in guns."

"But, ma'am, you have to defend yurself! Them's Injuns out there. Ma'am, if they get to yu, wal, just be sure to save the last bullet fer yurself. Here, I'll show you how to use it. See thet orange leaf thar? Close yur eyes an' point at it." I did. "Now open yur eyes. See yur pointing right at it.

"Pray with all yur might, thet yu don't have to use it, but, ifn yu do, have the will to survive. Shoot straight and shoot to kill."
I knew I could kill, because I'd tortured insects to death when I was a kid. I had hoped that I could overcome that killer instinct and sacrifice myself rather than kill another human being. He shoved the gun into my hand. It was heavier than I expected and I almost dropped it. But, somehow I held onto the cold, deadly thing.

We waited what seemed an eternity. Jet snorted and stamped. Then I saw him! An Indian in war paint, peaking over a rock, not fifteen feet away!

"Look out!" I screamed. The report of his rifle exploded in my ear.

Swish! Thunk! I opened my eyes and there was an arrow about four inches above my head in the tree beside me. Burring my face in my hands, I started shaking all over, rustling the leaves where I lay.

He put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a little shake.
"It's all right, miss, don't break now. You did good. Com’on, buck up."

"Miss!" I started to laugh. "Miss! I was almost killed and you don't even know my name!"

Then he picked me up and shook me.

"Here. Stop thet! Yu'll git us both killed making all thet noise."
But I didn't stop. The absurdity of it all broke over me like a shattered eggshell. Here I am a hundred years out of time. I'll just disappear and no one will ever know what happened to me. I laughed louder.

Whap! He gave me a resounding slap that nearly sent my head rolling. That made me mad. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's to be slapped in the face.

"Why you!" I nearly choked on the words. Then I tried to scratch his handsome face with my fingernails. But he was too quick for me, he pinned my arms to my sides in a great bear hug. Then I tried to kick him. In the ensuing scuffle we fell and he landed on top of me.

I guess he did the only thing possible, since all other parts of his body were busily trying to keep me quiet. He used the only available part of him to keep my mouth quiet - namely his own mouth. After a few more feeble struggles I decided that I didn't want to fight anymore. When I had quieted down, he looked deep into my eyes and said with a chuckle,

"Dear beautiful Miss. May I introduce myself? My name's Brett Wyatt. I hope you'll pardon my breech of manners in taking so long in introducing myself."

I smiled back at him. "Apology accepted. Things happened pretty fast." Then I remembered that I should introduce myself, too, so I continued, "My mane is Rina Callahan."

My pleasure to meet you, Miss Callahan." He rolled off me. We sat up and shook hands.

"Come off the Miss Callahan bit, Brett. I think that you can call me Rina, especially after you just kissed me half a dozen times."
Even in the pale blue light from the full moon I could see him blush clear to the roots of his hair.

"I...er...that is.... I really didn't mean to be so bold," he stammered.

I laughed, low. "That's OK. Actually I really didn't mind at all after I got over being mad. I think you kiss pretty good for a man who doesn't meet very many women." I got the pleasure of seeing him blush again. But it was a short lived pleasure for that cold wind came howling down the ravine. It really sent a chill clear to the marrow of my bones.

Brett got up, arranged the saddle for a pillow, kicked up a few leaves and said, "Lay down here."

I did. Then he shook the saddle blanket out and spread it over both of us. We snuggled together for body warmth. Soon, I fell asleep. Once I woke up. I could feel the tension in him.

"What'sa matter?" I whispered.

"Smoke. I smell smoke."

"Ah-huh, the Indians burned down the two saloons."

"How do you know?"

"Because that's the way it was when I came in last afternoon." I turned over and went back to sleep, leaving him to puzzle over that one. The next time I woke up the sky was graying and things were quite easily distinguished. I felt like making love and I could tell he felt the same way. I also knew that he was too much of a gentleman to ever make a break, so I turned over and took the situation into my own hands.

It was some time later that Jet gave the second warning. He snorted and stamped. Brett grabbed for his pistol and fired over my head. I was showered with black powder sparks. I screamed as Brett fell back down on top of me an arrow protruding from his neck. Things got hazy then. The world seemed to spin. I think I fainted.

When I opened my eyes and looked around everything looked different. The trees looked bigger and some of them were gone. Just then I heard the train whistle and rumble by. The bright sunshine reflected off some shinny objects.

Scrambling to my feet, I headed back to the hotel to get my pack sack. I was surprised to find I was still wearing the coat I had found in the wardrobe. I found the "town" the same way as the afternoon before. The saloons a pile of smoking rubble and only the hotel standing.

I went upstairs, retrieved my pack , came back down stairs and stopped at the desk. There was my name in the register, I got a creepy sensation up and down my spine, like I was being watched or something. I carefully closed the register and retraced my steps to the railroad tracks.

It was well into the afternoon when I reached the next burg. The first person I met, I asked, "What is today's date?"

"November ninth."

"What year?"

"Nineteen-sixty-seven. Why?" He looked at me sharply, "You OK?"

I smiled sweetly. "Yes, thank you. And thank you for asking." Walking on, I sighed in relief to know I was where I should be in Time. It took me several hours to find Rita.

"Well, how was your sidetrack?"

"It was great. Fantastic. I got this nice coat,” I said modeling it for her. “It was a real exciting adventure. I rode a horse as fast as the wind. Met a cowboy gentleman. We fought off the Indians and everything. And they burned the town, that's why it was smoky over there."

"Oh, come on Rina, be realistic!"

I just smiled. Truth is stranger than fiction, sometimes. I’d never lied to Rita, yet, she didn’t believe me.

We found a place to sleep for the night and hitched a ride out of town the next morning. We had pretty good luck with hitching rides the rest of the way to our home town. We actually got home in plenty of time for Christmas.

So, now that the new year is here, I find that there are two things that I get to keep from my little adventure: a coat and a child. At least I know it wasn't a dream, after all.

THE END

(c) 2001 Sharri Lorraine~