The Trip

Chapter 2

The Trip

Andy's warmth and his jovial attitude had brightened Will just as it had the first day they met.

Will thought back to that day. It was bright and warm that morning in Laramie Wyoming. He was far too excited to eat breakfast. He walked out of the hotel and headed directly for the stage stop carrying a wooden box. The man in the driver's seat looked down at him and smiled.

"Howdy, young feller, where ya' headed?"

"Toole City!"

"Well now what do you know about that" the man chuckled. He shook off the dust from a bright red bandanna, then wrapped around his extra-large neck.

"The name's Andy, and that so happens to be where I'm a-taking this here stagecoach."

Andy's smile was infectious. It went from ear to ear across his broad face. The ends of his handlebar mustache quivered as he talked. Father used to smile like that, Will remembered.

Will noticed Andy nodding at someone behind him. He turned to see his father approaching with a suitcase in each hand. His father smiled, but with a smile nowhere matching Andy's.

"Good Morning," he said to Andy

"How do, Sir"

Andy reached out for the two suitcases, placing them on the top of the stage.

"Thought I'd have to come back up and throw you out the window to wake you up, son."

"Nope!, not me, I'm ready for Colorado!" Will didn't even realize he was shouting.

Will's shout brought another smile to Andy's face as he watched the exchange. When he saw Will's father grabbing the handle to the stage door with one hand and Will with the other, he chuckled.

"Sir, I gots a full load today, I'm not sure where we're a-gonna put that boy of yers."

Will's father peered into what looked like an empty stage. He looked back and caught Andy's grin, then he understood.

"Hmm..." he stroked his chin. "I don't really want to leave him here. Do you have room for him up there?"

"Only if he minds his manners, and talks my leg off. It's a mighty long trip to Toole City, and I might fall asleep, ya know."

Will did not wait for his father's response, he lept for Andy's outstretched hand and climbed up onto the stage. "Can you hand me my box, Pa?"

Andy watched quizzically, as Will's father tenderly lifted up the wooden box. Will placed it on the floorboards under his feet.

Will turned toward the soft, deep voice of his father. "Well son, here we go"

The words delighted Will. "Yeah finally," he tried to frown in misery, but instead he smiled brightly. He realized the months and months of planning that they had done were finally coming to fruition.

The coach shook as the door opened and a large heavy-set man in a fancy vest ambled inside. Behind him came a smaller man in a black cowboy hat with a brightly dressed woman. The woman had on a hat nearly as big Will's box. Andy pulled down his own wide-brimmed hat and shouted.

"And we're ready, fifteen hours to Toole City, better get comfortable," he said to no one in particular. "Gid up" he shouted to the horses, and the coach lurched forward.

***

A sheepish grin scrunched up Will's face as something brushed against his leg. Looking down, he saw Hermit Jack, the little black and white border collie. The dog just stood there with eyes of wonderment staring up at Will. Next to Jack, stood Sally with the same look of bewilderment.

"Ahem," Will cleared his throat and looked away. He wished they had not noticed he was daydreaming. Sally just smiled and hooked her arm in his. Together they started walking on down the wooden boardwalk with Jack right on their heels. However, both Will and Jack were unable to match the exuberance of Sally's stride.

"You keep an eye on those two, Jack," Andy hollered behind them, "Don't be a-leadin' them to no trouble.

Jack barked and bolted ahead of the two children, as the three of them headed toward the center of town.

Sally turned abruptly into the General store, while Jack and Will obediently followed.

***

"Out!" shouted a voice from the back of the store. Will and Jack instantly froze.

"My father," Sally whispered. "He doesn't like Jack." He's afraid he'll knock something over, I guess." She reached down and gently put her arm around the dog and pulled him toward the door. Jack's tail stopped wagging, and drooped to the wood floor. He tried to shake loose from her grip. However, she did not release him until they were outside again. He was alone again. However, he could still hear the children's voices, so he turned, and cautiously put one foot inside the doorway. Nobody shouted or called his name and nobody turned to look. He put another foot inside. Then he lay down, with eyes peeled for anything of interest.

Sally's diminutive bearded father came out from behind a table piled with linens.

"Sally, I need you to re-fold and stack all these lines on this table."

"Why? Nobody ever buys them. Heck, none of these miners even know what linens are for."

"Watch your words, lass!"

Then he sharply turned to Will, "Who are you, boy?"

"Uh, my name's Will"

"He just came here from Wisconsin, with his father," Sally interrupted.

The older man paused and burned his gaze into Will. He looked over the boy from head to toe.

"hmmph!" was all he said.

Then he walked over to the wall and grabbed a broom. "I got some sweepin' you can do. You'll get a nickel if you do it right."

Will reached for the broom, and paused. He looked at Jack, then Sally. "No thank you, Sir, I need to go up to our room, and wait for my father"

Will turned and walked out. Sally saw her father staring at him as he left.

"Never heard of a boy turning down honest work I'm not sure I like him"

Sally made her way to the stack of linens. Her usual smile had disappeared.

Will was gingerly stepping over the sleeping dog when shouts from up the street diverted his attention.

***

Jack watched Will disappear into the crowd of people that was already on the street. He stood up and followed the boy's steps. Will slowly made his way toward the noise. He peeked inside the saloon door.

"It's another drunken miner fight," he whispered down to Jack, who was now huddled between his legs.

Will had never seen so many fights. In Wisconsin, he walked over the rolling hills for the three miles into town every school day. However, he had strict instructions not to go past the first street in town, which led down toward the river and the old red schoolhouse. The streets past the saloons seemed miles away.

His father had warned him that life in Toole City would present him with many differences. Today, he had concluded that saloon fights were one of them.

His eyes grew wide with curiosity as he watched the two men kicking up dust as they rolled back and forth at the feet of the onlookers. Both were furiously throwing punches but neither actually connected. It seemed like nothing more than the on-stage entertainment Will had heard played in the theaters back east.

He had asked his father to teach him how to fight once. The curt answer was "you're not old enough to worry about such things." His lip curled up with the memory. It seemed like he would never be old enough for anything.

Jack barked at the sheriff as the man pushed and shoved his way through the bustling crowd. They only parted when one of the fighters flew out into the street leaving the furiously swinging door in his wake. The other fighter quickly lumbered behind, glancing only briefly at the crowd before grabbing a huge handful of the other's shirt. They continued throwing punches, despite the sheriff's firm warning otherwise. The sheriff pulled his gun from its holster, pointed it into the air, and squeezed off a shot. It seemed that the noise startled no one other than Jack. Instead the fight was quickly stopped by the mine superintendent who inserted a shot glass of whiskey into each outstretched fist and pushed the fighters back inside.

The crowd began to disperse once the sheriff, his gun in hand, told everyone to go home.

Will walked to the boarding house. At the doorway, he knelt down and gave Jack a rub on his belly.

"Good boy, maybe in the morning, I'll swipe some bacon from the table for ya' ya' little bacon bandit."

"Woof"

When Will stood up and took a step inside, Jack started to follow. Stern words redirected him to the hole underneath the boardwalk.