Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaUtilCD2.iso/Misc/HYPERBOOK3.DMS/in.adf/text/story.txt

Text File | 1994-03-26 | 7.4 KB | 122 lines

          CLICK ON THE CLOSE BOX AT THE TOP LEFT CORNER TO EXIT

                                 CHAPTER 9
                                 ---------

In which our hero travels to Montana and visits a dude ranch where the
hired help is less than helpful.


    The rain outside the motel window should have tipped me off that things
were not going to go well that day. When I found out that the nearest
resturaunt was ten miles in the wrong direction a bell should have gone off
in my head. And when the beat up station wagon took six tries before it
finally coughed and wheezed into life warning sirens should have told me to
go back to bed.
    But we were in the wild west now, 57 miles from Bute, and the pioneers
didn't worry about October rain showers, coffee shops, or head gaskets, so
neither did I. We were on our way to the bar-10-D dude ranch and nothing
was going to stop us now.
    When we finally arrived at the main building the snow was beginning to
mount up and my pants no longer protected me from the cold winds. All I
wanted to do was check in and find the nearest shot of Red-eye before
climbing into a bath. Susan volunteered to go get us checked in saving me
additional embarrassment. So I helped her down from the back of the pickup
truck and told her to hurry.
    By the time we left the motel the rain had turned into a chilled
drizzle and you could see your breath. I was thinking how great it was
going to be. Away from the kids for two weeks. Susan and I alone in a log
cabin with nothing to do but sleep and ride horses. Having grown up in the
city I couldn't tell the difference between a Pinto and a Pimento but Susan
assured me that riding a horse was easy.
    Just as we saw the hand-painted sign for the bar-10-D turn off the car
started making a grinding noise like a cat eating potato chips. I am not a
mechanic by anyones definition but I knew that cars shouldn't make those
kinds of noises. I made a mental note to have it looked at when we got
back.
    We followed the winding dirt road through the rolling hills and even in
the drizzle it was impressive. Miles and miles of open land with only a few
trees sprinkled here and there. Barbed wire fences ran on either side of
the road and we could see groups of cows grazing or just standing around. I
wondered if we would be eating one of them that night served with onions
and mushrooms, a big baked potato, with apple pie for desert.
    The car sounded worse and worse with each mile and I began to wonder
how far the ranch was. As we started climbing a rather steep hill the cat
under the hood switched from potato chips to pieces of glass. By the time
we reached the top the cat had a terible case on indigestion. I was
beginning to think that we weren't going to make it when Susan pointed off
to the left. Down in a small valley, about a mile away, we could see a
collection of buildings. It had to be the bar-10.
    As if on some unheard signal the car died and we coasted to a halt. I
tried starting it again and again but nothing I could do was going to get
it moving. I was a bit angry but I wasn't really worried. Pretty soon
someone would come along the road and we could get a lift. That was the
idea anyway.
    Two hours later I was wondering if there was another road to the Bar-10
that wasn't on my map. By one o'clock my stomach had stopped giving me
subtle reminders that we hadn't had breakfast and had switched to more
obvious and noisy reminders. When Susan's stomach started to answer mine I
decided that it was time to do something. It didn't look very far down to
the ranch and as far as I could see there was only one cow in the field. I
could just cut across the field and get someone to help us out.
    As I climbed through the barbed wire fence I caught the seat of my
pants on one of the barbs and tore a hole large enough to put a football
through. Susan started laughing and even though I was angry I realized that
it was pretty funny. Trying to hold the hole closed I blew her a kiss and
started down the hill. Half way there the drizzle turned back to rain and
then to wet snow. The day was getting worse by the minute.
    When I was close enough, I could see that the buildings were not the
Bar-10 after all, but someones farm. Next to one of the barns there was a
corall with two old looking horses milling about. And leaning against the
fence were three men and a small boy. They had on jeans and boots and
cowboy hats so I thought they must be cowboys in spite of the Def Leppard
T-shirtsand dayglow sunglasses. They watched me walking across the field
with amusement but then their expressions changed. They were pointing and
shouting something and when I looked behind me I almost had a heart attack.
The one cow in the entire field was charging me!
    I looked around quickly and saw a small bush not far away. "At least I
have a little luck" I thought when I saw the bush but I wondered why the
cows hadn't eaten the bush like they ate everything else. I ran as fast as
I ever have in my life and dove into the low branches just as the cow
screeched to a halt behind me. The reason the cows hadn't eaten the bush
was that it was full of very nasty two inch thorns.
    As I sat there tryng not to move I wondered how anyone could live in an
area like this. Wild cows, freak snow storms, and thorn bushes. Of course
the rip in my pants was now twice as long and I had a complete set of new
rips, tears, and scratches.
    "Hey buddy! You dead in there?" I heard one of the men shout.
    "I wish I was," I shouted back, "can you guys come and get me out of
here?"
    "'Fraid not." the man shouted.
    "What? Why not?"
    "I ain't goin' beyond this fence with Gene any where-abouts"
    "Who is Jeanne?" I shouted. A snort from the cow who was circling the
thorn bush gave me my answer.
    After a lot of shouting and swearing the boy finally volunteered to
help me out. I couldn't see what he was doing but I soon heard the sound of
a tractor starting. A few minutes later the whole bush shook and the boy
told me to hop up quick. I managed to climb up one of the tractor wheels
keeping the cow on the far side and soon we were standing in the farm yard
with the gate safely closed between us and the cow.
    I was freezing and soaking wet. I was scraped and scratched. I was half
scared to death and I was not in a good mood. It must have been obvious to
the three men who were cowering inside the barn out of the snow. The boy
had saved my life while these cowards just watched.
    I thanked the boy and glared at the men but I still needed to get some
help with the car. Out of pitty or guilt, I didn't care which, the men
agreed to give us some help. Soon we were in an ancient pickup truck
bouncing along the road up to the car. The three men and the boy up front,
and me in the back.
    After half an hour of standing around the dead car shaking their heads
and kicking the tires they decided they couldn't fix it. When we told them
about the bar-10-D they laughed but agreed to give us a ride. So we threw a
few bags in the back of the truck, climbed in on top of them, and tried not
to freeze as we drove through the snow.
    It didn't surprize me at all when Susan found out they had lost our
reservations. I didn't bat an eye when we had to pay twice the normal rates
for a cabin without a fireplace. I didn't even flinch when there was no hot
water. But when we discovered that the main lodge had been closed for two
months because of a fire and the nearest place to get a meal or a drink was
back in town I broke down and cried.