Ghosts of the Wild West: Enlarged Edition Including Five Never-Before-Published Stories

The Last Homesteaders

THE LAST HOMESTEADERS hey had been driving all day when the old Seth Thomas clock on the backseat began to tick. The clock was one of their prize wedding gifts, a family heirloom. The clock and the family homestead toward which they were heading, on the border of Colorado and Kansas, were two of the most unusual gifts a bride and groom ever received, as they would find out. Joyce's mother had told her, "It's a beautiful clock, but it's somewhat like a cat for it does just what it pleases. It runs when it wants to, sometimes forward, sometimes backward." The newlyweds had smiled. Wichita was far behind them, and in a short time they would be nearing Dodge City. Archie was driving , Joyce was sleeping,and the clockwas still ticking. GHOSTS OF THE WlLD WEST Archie had taken a back road, figuring it would be a shortcut and would save him at least an hour, but the road was bleak, and in west Kansas where the rains are scarce, the land itself took on an eerie appearance toward dusk. Although the car continued to move, the land never seemed to change, always looking the same for mile after mile, almost hypnotic and as monotonous as the ticking of the clock. It was some time after midnight when Archie noticed the highway seemed different-not really changed, just narrower. It wasn't a two-lane road any more. It was a one-lane road. Then, imperceptibly, the pavement seemed to melt into hard-packed clay, almost as if the road he knew was fading away. There was no particular point at which you could say something happened . The road simply became fainter and fainter. Finally, about two o'clock in the morning, Archie stopped the car. He stopped because there was no road left--just the Kansas prairie stretching for miles in the moonlight. The only sound was the ticking of the clock. When the motion of the car ceased, Joyce woke up. She instinctively reached for the radio knob to turn on some music and said, "Archie, do you want me to drive for you awhile?"Archie didn't answer. Reason filtered through her senses as she awakened, and, aware that no sound came from the radio, she flipped the dial. Nothing happened, it was dead. Then Archie's peculiar behavior caught her attention . He had gotten out of the car and was on his hands and knees in front of it, passing his hands over the ground. There seemed to be no road, and they were THE LAST HOMESTEADERS somewhere out on the prairie. Joyce got out of the car and looked around. Born and raised on the prairie, she was accustomed to the endless expanse of plains and sky, no towns, no farm homes lining the highway. She was unconcerned until she heard Archie repeating over and over under his breath, "It's impossible. It's just impossible! The Kansas Highway Department can't do this to me. They've built a road to nowhere. I knew our government was run by idiots, but this is incredible ." Joyce sat down beside him in front of the car and said, "Archie, do you have any idea where we are?" "No," said Archie, "but somewhere in southwest Kansas, I think. . . . I think." He, too, had been brought up on the prairie, and knowing things always look better in the light of day, Archie suggested, "Why don't we get a blanket out of the car, snatch a few hours sleep, and in the morning we'll go back and find that highway." The stars were bright. There was a faint sweet fragrance in the air, and the pair soon drifted off to sleep. The only sound was the tick of the clock coming from the backseat of the car. The sun was well up in the eastern sky when Joyce opened her eyes, stretched, and saw a covered wagon and oxen standing a few feet away. How quaint, she thought. I wonder where that came from. Archie was still sleeping as she walked over to it. It was just like those she had seen in all the old pictures, but somehow she seemed to feel a special affinity for this particular wagon. The oxen were yoked and appeared to be contentedly waiting for someone to climb aboard. She and GHOSTS OF THE WILD...