Romance in a Ghost Town

by Robert P McAuley

  Taking an apple pie wrapped in aluminum foil, he opened the top of the foil and put it at the end of the hot area. He turned the sizzling chops and took the dishes, knives and forks from the drain board and set the table.

  “Man,” said Edward,” If smell means anything, Bob, you could be in charge of my chuck wagon on a cattle drive.”

  Bob grinned as he opened a jar of applesauce and put a dollop on each plate, followed by the browned pork chops, potatoes, onions and then poured the hot gravy into an early-American gravy boat and placed them on the candle-lit table. Last he put out a bottle of wine and three glasses. He entered the living room and proclaimed, “Dinner is served.”

  Katey sat opposite her husband at the table’s ends as Bob selected the middle, opened and poured the wine. He held up his glass and said, “Here’s to good friends. Cheers!”

  “Cheers!” they said in unison and all three took a sip, ate and chatted as the oil lamps pushed back the dark of the night and the sound of wood, as it crackled in the fireplace, was their background music. Bob tilted his head towards the easy chair in front of the fireplace and they all grinned at seeing the puppy curled up on the soft seat as he napped.

  Finished, Bob picked up the dishes and placed them in a pan of water in the sink, took the warmed-up apple pie off the stove and placed it on the table with three pie plates and coffee.

  “I know it’s not as good as your coffee, Katey, but any port in a storm.”

  She took a sip and rolling her eyes, said, “Pearl’s, right?”

  “Yep! She does a great second-place in the Bransville coffee arena.”

  “Tomorrow,” said Katey taking a sip, “we remove all of the boards from the rest of the windows and I’ll give them a good cleaning.”

  After dinner the two men smoked a cigar and had a few beers. Katey nursed a red wine and the three talked until she picked up her empty glass and put it on the drain board as she said, ”Don’t know about you two, but I’m ready to hit the sack.”

  “Be up in a sec,” added Edward with a yawn.

  Bob took one of the lit oil lamps and handed it to Katey. “Take this oil lamp up with you. I’ll take the other and see you in the morning.” He winked and said, “I showed you where the outhouse is, but in an emergency, the backup is under the bed.” She took the lamp and referring to the chamber pot, he added, “Oh, and that I don’t clean.”

  She laughed as she went up the stairs and Bob and Edward enjoyed their cigars. Five minutes later they heard her coming back down the stairs, the oil lamp illuminated her way.

  “What’s up, honey?” asked Edward as he stood up.

  “Well, maybe nothing and then again, maybe everything. Look at this old newspaper I found on the dresser upstairs.”

  Bob recognized it and said; “Anne Dallas found this the other day in one of the stores. She must have brought it back with her and left it there. Guess she never got the time to read it.”

  Anne passed it to him and said with a grin, “Read it. It answers a lot of your questions. They sat and Bob pulled it close to the lamp and read it out loud.

  ‘Citizens of “Rattlesnake Haven,’ as our fair city has been named, as you all know, in three days’ time our town will no longer have the Rattlesnake Haven Silver Mine to mine as she is played out! All of the miners have moved on to work claims in other parts of this great state of Nevada. As there have been so many collapses and calamities in that hole in the ground, no other man is dumb enough to wander on down just to find a finger’s length of silver. Thus, the reason for Rattlesnake Haven’s existence has come to an end! It is to this situation that Mister James T. Bensen has addressed the Town Committee and it is in this newspaper that we bring his message to you. The following is the offer that Mister Bensen has proposed to the citizens of this fine town of ours.

  ‘My dear friends and fellow citizens of Rattlesnake Haven. As we all know by now, the silver mine’s load has played out and many of our friends and citizens have made plans to leave town. I propose that when a family or business is ready to move, allow me to enter their house or place of business and take note of their possessions. If they agree, together we will set a fair price on the items they feel they can leave behind. This does two things: first, they will be able to travel light and fast and then use the money to purchase new items when they settle down again; and second; the town of Rattlesnake Haven would be preserved and ready for new occupants which I truly believe will take their place after a time as I believe the railway systems will soon be coming through this region. I only ask that as each family leaves town, they have JAX Hardware board up their place and he will present me with the bill and key. My offer will stand good until August 2, 1893. Thank you, James T. Bensen.’

  Bob sat back in his easy chair and with a smile exclaimed, “Mystery solved!”

  “Lord!” added Edward. “This tells us an awful lot. Jim’s great granddaddy bought the entire town literally, lock, stock and barrel.”

  “He was waiting for the railroad to be built so his town would flourish once again,” added Katey. She smiled and pointed at Bob as she went on, “And it is flourishing once again under the guidance of Bob McKillop.”

  “Boy,” said Bob more to himself than the others as he studied the old newspaper, “wait until I tell Anne.”

  After locking up, the three went up to the bedrooms. The puppy stood between both rooms momentarily before bounding into Bob’s room and trying to get up onto the high bed with him. Seeing it’s dilemma, Bob bent down and scooped the pup up and with a smile watched as he curled up next to his pillow and went to sleep.

  The next morning Bob was woken by the playful tugging at his pillow as the pup seemed to be trying to get him up. He rose, dressed and quietly went downstairs carrying the small dog. Thirty minutes later his company came down the stairs to be greeted by Bob setting out a platter of eggs, bacon and coffee.

  “Boy, partner,” said Ed as he patted his stomach, “If ya could bottle that breakfast aroma, you’ll never need an alarm clock or a rooster ta wake yer guests up.”

  They sat and ate and it was becoming automatic to include the puppy that downed his portion of bacon and sat with pleading eyes for more.

  By nine o’clock the two men were tearing the wooden boards off of the rest of the storefronts as Katey followed with rolls of paper towels and Windex and the pup chased down any tumbleweed that happened to roll by.

  The sun was at its highest and almost every storefront had clean windows after so many years, when Bob made lunch for them back at the house. He put out a platter of cold cuts, rye and white bread and made iced tea as he said apologetically, “I know you two are planning on leaving at one o’clock today, so as to be home before it gets dark, and I really want to thank you for helping me out in town. So, I insist that when I come into Bransville I take you both out for a steak dinner.”

  “Fine with me,” Ed quickly answered and Katey agreed with a nod and a smile.

  “Running out of supplies yet?” asked his friend with a grin.

  “Nope. So you’re going to have to wait a bit for that steak. Got enough for the next two weeks and with the wood that we took off the windows today, I’ll have more than enough firewood.”

  Katey nodded in agreement and added, “Just about every store I went into today had a fireplace or pot belly stove with stacked wood near it, so my guess is that there’s more than enough for the winter.”

  “Just how cold does it get here in the winter?” asked Bob as he made a ham and cheese on rye sandwich.

  “Well it’s close to June now and last night it dipped down to around fifty degrees--chilly enough to appreciate the blanket on the bed,” answered Katey as she spread mustard on her sandwich. “September brings the mid to low forties and October through April it will go down to the twenties and thirties at night.”

  “Well,” said Bob as he cut his sandwich, “I intend to have the town ready for visitors by September.”

  Edward asked, as he took out
a small memo pad and pen, “Have you registered with any travel agencies yet?” Bob shook his head, no and Edward jotted down some notes as he went on, “I can check out a bunch of them and contact them for you if you want?”

  “Sure,” said Bob, “that’d be great.”

  “So,” asked Katey, “your plan is to have tour groups stop here?”

  “Yep! I read that there are tour groups that sign up vacationers to go from ghost town to ghost town.”

  “On horseback?” asked Katey with a shrug.”

  “Naw!” grinned Bob, “Pretty sure they use air-conditioned busses.”

  Edward took more notes. “There are some pretty bad roads coming into Rattlesnake Haven, Bob. Best we let them know that before time.”

  “So,” added Katey sipping her iced tea, “what’s next to fix up in town?”

  Bob looked up at the ceiling as he went through his checklist, “Let’s see. Tomorrow I do some bracing work on the hitching posts, then comes the big sweep! It’ll take the better part of a day for each store and house to be vacuumed out.”

  Katey nodded and said approvingly, “You’re going to love that vacuum cleaner. It’s powerful!”

  “Gonna drag that generator along to power it up, I guess?” added Edward with raised eyebrows.

  “Yeah. It’s really easy to roll along and really cranks out the amps when needed. And I’m glad that I bought an extra long extension cord.”

  Edward checked his watch, lifted up his glass of iced tea and said, “Well, here’s to Rattlesnake Haven and Bob McKillop, the man from the city who is making her tick again.”

  They all toasted and twenty minutes later Bob watched their Jeep disappear in the shimmering heat waves that rose from the hot sands. He felt a twinge of loneliness until he felt a nudge at his leg and saw his new friend playfully biting on his cane.

  “Hey, little guy. You must think you’re pretty strong to pull me down.” He kneeled awkwardly and petted him. “You need a name, little fella.” Bob looked up in thought as the pup pulled on his jeans. “Strong, huh? Well, then I’ll call you Samson…like Samson and Delilah.” He stood and said as he walked back to the house, “C’mon Samson. Let’s get out of this heat.” The dog seemed to understand and led the way back to the house.

  Once there, Bob made sure that there was a bowl of fresh, cool water for his puppy, grabbed a change of clothing and a bar of soap and walked back to the SUV. He had to help Samson up into the high-riding SUV and the pup immediately chose the passenger seat to curl up for a nap.

  The New Yorker drove to the Washroom Supply House next to Kenny’s Barber Shop and entered the store. The sweet, clean smell of Windex told him that the reason the store seemed even brighter than when he had removed the wooden slats was that Katey had attacked the dirt and grime with vigor.

  He walked past a row of string mops and tin pails before getting to a line of bathtubs and selected a small light wooden tub rather than one of the heavier porcelain or steel types. He then dragged it out of the store, placed in on the open tailgate and tied it down before driving up to the well.

  Once there, Bob placed the round wooden tub close to the pump and filled it with fresh water. Next he stripped, tossed his dirty clothes in the trailer, grabbed a bar of soap and slid into the fast warming water. Seeing the bathwater slopping over the tub’s top, Samson tried to join his new master in having fun and his yelps pierced the quietness.

  “Don’t worry, little guy, you’ll get your chance in here too.”

  It wasn’t long before the sun had heated the water and feeling refreshed, Bob climbed out and let the sun dry him as he lifted Samson and deposited the beagle into the water. He watched as the puppy did the usual doggy paddle around the perimeter of the tub before holding him and rubbing soap on him. Finally he took Samson out and watched as the dog shook off the excess water and ran around in circles.

  “I swear we’re both almost dry already,” said Bob as he felt his dry skin and fluffed up the puppy’s soft hair. He took his dirty clothes from the trailer and washed them before laying them on the SUV’s hood to dry. Next he pulled the wooden plug from the tub and watched the water as it emptied out creating a small muddy stream as it did so. He suddenly stood up as he thought, Hey. Maybe I can leave some water here for any horse that might come through? He shrugged his shoulders. Can’t hurt to try.

  The New Yorker tipped the almost empty tub on its rim and drained the last of the soapy water out before replacing the plug and filling it with clear, fresh water.

  Bob dressed in his damp clothes, hopped back into the SUV with his dog and drove back to town feeling refreshed and, although it was only three thirty, hungry.

  Knowing that Samson always seemed ready to eat, he decided to eat early today. He dined on a nice size piece of salmon that he wrapped in foil and cooked over the open flame of the fireplace using an old pair of cleaned up tongs. He cut up some small, white potatoes and fried them on the stovetop as he thought, Got to get some dog food, as he made Samson a dish of dried sausage cut into small chunks and added a handful of the cut potatoes.

  He grinned as he sat at the table and cut into the flaky fish. “This is the life!” he said to Samson who finished his food and drank some water before jumping up onto the easy chair closest to the fireplace.

  “Way to go, Samson. Eat and relax. Later you can walk me to the outhouse before we turn in.”

  At five o’clock Bob got the oil lamps and a few candles ready and took out one of the few books he brought along with him. “Hi dad,” he said with a smile as he poked the embers off a log, “Here I go doing my best Abraham Lincoln impression: reading by candlelight.” Although he had read it many times before, The History of the Real Wild West was till one of his favorite books and he opened it lovingly. The large format book was loaded with grainy, black and white pictures of old western towns depicting cowboys, farmers, their wives and children as well as cattle, horses and of course, bars. Maybe someday Rattlesnake Haven will be in a book like this, he thought as he lit a cigar. He read and, using a small magnifying glass, perused the old pictures always finding something he hadn’t noticed before.

  Checking his watch and knowing that Tommy Wallace had finished dinner and was powering up his laptop, Bob went out and started up the generator. He made sure that the connection between the generator and his satellite laptop was secure before powering it up. He then slowly swiveled the laptop on the table to find the best reception and when the steady red light told him it was ready, he opened the Skype program and dialed Tommy’s number. After a few rings his friend’s face appeared on his screen.

  “Howdy, cowboy, Bob,” he said with a big smile.

  “Ha! Howdy there, City Slicker, Tommy. How ya been, partner?”

  “Just fine. What about you? Any gunfights yet?”

  Bob answered with a grin and as he rolled his eyes said, “Tell you about that another time. How’s it going in the Big Apple?”

  “Not bad, not bad at all. Weather’s hot and it’s not even summer yet. How is it out there?” Before Bob could answer, his friend added as he squinted at Bob’s face on his screen, “Dude! You are tan! How hot is it out there in cowboy land?”

  “Ha!” he answered excitedly, “It’s been in the eighties and nineties since I got here. And there are no tall buildings to give any shade. It’s sunny and hot all the time!”

  “Wow! Hope you like that. Me? I like the change of seasons.”

  Bob shrugged. “Whatever. But I must admit that at night it gets chilly. So, when are you going to come out and visit me?”

  “Uhh, probably when it’s winter here. It’d be fun coming back to the city with a tan.” He paused and said with raised eyebrows, “So, how are the chicks there?” Before Bob could answer, Tommy quipped the old joke: “One behind every tree, but there are no trees there?”

  Bob shrugged again as he answered nonchalantly, “No trees growing here is right, but it’s okay, I guess. I did meet this one girl, Anne, and we sort of like
each other.”

  “Who?” asked Tommy as he once again leaned close to the screen, “Is she cute? Is she a cowgirl? Does she chew on a blade of grass?”

  “Very funny, very funny. No, in fact she’s a newspaper reporter.”

  “Really! Well, you are moving on up in the world, aren’t you, sheriff?” His grin was contagious and he went on, “Seriously, Bob. Good for you. If it works out I want to be the best man.”

  “Hey, partner, you’re rushing things a bit. We’ll take it one day at a time.”

  Suddenly Samson jumped up on Bob’s lap and looked at the screen making a surprised Tommy recoil momentarily, “Hey. Who’s that? Don’t tell me you adopted a wild coyote or wolf or some other kind of a desert animal that I know absolutely nothing about?”

  “Naw!” answered Bob as he scratched his dog’s ears, “This is Samson. A friend dropped him off here yesterday so I would have company and it’s working out just fine. And for you city folk, he’s not a coyote, wolf or any other desert dweller; he’s a beagle.”

  “Well, he sure is cute. Now, show me around the place. Is this where you live?”

  “Yep! It was the first house I went into and it just became the place to go to. I’ll lift and turn the laptop around and we’ll have to hope that I don’t lose the satellite link. Here goes.”

  Bob lifted the laptop and slowly turned it around showing his friend in New York his home in Nevada. After a few minutes of showing the first floor of the house, he asked, “So, what do you think of it?”