A Prospector's Christmas Story
copyright 1999 G.M. "DOC" Lousignont, Ph.D.
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Part 4 of 6
Sam pulled on his pajamas and turned to climb into bed, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t sleep in their bed, not without Mary. So as he had done for the past nights, he grabbed his pillow and alarm clock and pulled the blanket from the bed and retired to the couch downstairs in the basement. Sam spent a fitful night, not sleeping much. He couldn’t get comfortable. His mind wouldn’t stop racing. The alarm went off at precisely 7:30 am, just as he had set it. Why did that old thing always have to be so reliable. No matter, Sam was anxious to get on with it.
He dressed quickly, and threw the alarm clock and a few odds and ends in an old duffel bag, topping it off by jamming his pillow in there. He wasn’t taking much, but he wasn’t going anywhere without his pillow. Mountain man or not, he was going to be a mountain man with a pillow.
One last check of the refrigerator to clean out what little he hadn’t already thrown away, take the garbage cans to the curb. The phone service would be cut off in a few days and he had already called and canceled the newspaper; something he should have done years ago, there wasn’t anything worth reading in that pinko commie rag sheet anyway.
That was it. That was all there was to do as far as the old homestead went. His life there was over. With Mary there it was a home, now it was just a house, no different from the hundreds of unremarkable houses he passed everyday when he was running various errands.
He pulled out of the garage and hit the button on the automatic garage door remote. The garage door closed as swiftly as the darkness that fell on the happiness that was once his life.
A check of the gauge showed a full tank, just the way he had left it when he filled it the day before. But you can never be too careful, not when you’re a mountain gold prospectin’ man.
He backed into the street and shifted into drive, his foot still on the brake, he hesitated, did he dare take one more look at the house that was once a home, or did he simply drive away without a parting glance? If he did look one last time, maybe Mary would be there on the porch waving to him. Maybe then he’d wake up from this nightmare that was now his life. But he knew it wasn’t a dream, the memories he had were not in that house, they would forever be inside him, occupying the space that was left when his heart was ripped from his chest. Sam shifted the car into drive and pressed the accelerator. He still wondered if he was running from something or to something. The answer was simple really, it was neither; there was nothing left in his life to run from or to.
He had a few stops to make before making the 297 mile trip to his claim. First stop was the Farm and Fleet. He could get a small generator there, some extra gas cans, a supply of propane tanks for his little Coleman two burner; I mean even a mountain man needs a cup of hot coffee in the morning.. And he found something he didn’t even think of, a collapsible cart with wheels. That would make lugging his stuff that last mile he had to hike to the cabin a lot easier.
Sam was in and out of his first stop in record time, "Let’s see, $523.33 I spent from my $2000, that leaves me about $1,500." Sam was mumbling to himself. "No, No, now you have to stop that, you can’t just let yourself get away with not thinking, now figure it out to the penny. You’re going to have a different life now Sam, a life where you’re going to have to be able to think clearly, so you might as well get into the habit right now! OK then, I would have $1,500 left but I spent $23.33 more than $500, so if I round that to $25 and subtract it, that would mean I had $1475, but $25 is a $1.67 more than $23.33. So if I add $1.67 on to the $1,475, that means I have precisely $1476.67 left. There now that’s better, don’t be taking the easy way out Sam Nathaniel Lewis, you’re a better man than that. Shortcuts and doing things half ass are for slackers."
One more stop; the Food Warehouse. Had to get a good stock of canned goods, vegetables, fruit. Five or so cases of Dinty Moore Stew and some of that Hormel Chili, that stuff wasn’t too bad. It was pretty good going down. Couldn’t stand the smell of the air about two hours later, but it went down easy when you were hungry. "Oh Shit!" Sam said to himself, "That reminds me where the hell do they keep the damn toilet paper in this place? Mountain man or not I ain’t wipin’ my ass on no damn tree twigs and leaves. I wonder if there’s a formula for figuring out how many rolls of toilet paper you have to have for each case of Chili?""Soap, bath soap, where’s the soap? I got my towels but I need soap." And so on it went until Sam left with a wheeled flat full of provisions to the tune of $620.40. "Six twenty forty. Ha! Do you see that Mary?" Sam was thinking to himself again. "Six twenty forty! June 20, 1940, the day we were married! Are you trying to tell me something Mary?"
Sam stopped for a moment. He convinced himself that it was just coincidence. After all it was Mary that was the religious one, he wasn’t even sure if there was a heaven, or God for that matter anymore. He lost his faith when Johnny was killed in that car accident. What kind of a God lets an innocent young boy with his whole life in front of him die, and let’s a miserable old drunk walk away without a scratch; not any God he could believe in. But if there was a heaven he knew Mary was there! Heck she was probably telling God she was going to call some contractors tomorrow and get some bids on remodeling the place.
Well the bed of his pick ‘um up was jammed to the top of the shell, and it was time to hit the road. "Nine fifty seven. Record time!" Sam thought to himself. He could be on the interstate in another 10 minutes, that’s Ten O Seven, then 162 miles to the exit, that should take 2 ½ hours maximum , that’s Twelve thirty-seven. Get gas, some drive through fast food, should make it One O’clock even. The next 130 miles was two lane, and might take 2 hours if he made good time. So that would make it about Three O’clock when he reached the turn off and had to go into four wheel drive.The turn off was just five miles outside the old mining town of Good Hope, population 79. The next three miles was all off road through the tall timbers of a land that was once a boomin’ mining area over a hundred years ago. A little known and never traveled back road would take Sam up to his claim; his little world, away from the world. That three miles was a killer. Fifteen minutes was the best time he had ever made on that ol’ cow path, and now he’d have to be especially careful. He couldn’t afford to be fixing flat tires or having a broken axle. So he better figure another 25 minutes for that part of the journey, that would make it Three Twenty-five, then he had to pack it in on foot to the cabin, just a bit shy of a mile. He’d take only the bare necessities from the truck for tonight, them he’d bring his canned goods up as he needed them. He could hike that last mile in about 15 minutes or less, so that would be Three forty - great no sweat. Plenty of daylight left to get settled in for the night. That collapsible cart yeah that would be the ticket, glad he ran into that thing. In the days to come he could get his exercise walking back down to the truck and wheeling his provisions up to his mountain retreat; oh he had a lot to do to make this his new place of residence.
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