Building a Dream

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Living in 1870s after being thrown back in time.
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Sam Pritchard was driving his old Ford Mustang east on Interstate 20. He was on the east side of Dallas, TX heading further east and was cursing under his breath. The rush hour traffic was much worse than normal. For the last hour he barely moved at a stop and go pace. In fact it was more stop than go if the truth was told. He could tell it was going to be a damn long time before he got out of town. Sam was worried. The temperature gauge on the dash was hovering at the top end of safe. If traffic didn't start moving better he would have to pull over or take the chance of ruining the already poor engine in the old car. There were over 200,000 hard miles on it. When he pressed on the accelerator blue smoke came from the tail pipe in a noxious cloud from all the oil he burned. In place of the desired throaty roar he heard an anemic chugging sound. He sure missed his beautiful F150 Super Crew 4X4 he was forced to sell last year. Thoughts of what he lost last year just made him angrier and more unable to cope with the Friday evening traffic.

Sam cursed the traffic and life in general once more. It was a shitty day even if it was Friday. It must seem that way for everyone else also. Everyone he saw on the road seemed much more upset than normal. Even some of the more congenial people at work had been touchy today. Perhaps it was because of the horrible heat and humidity. Whatever caused the attitude in people, it was very noticeable. There were a lot of shouting drivers. There sure seemed to be a lot more families driving east than normal for this time on a Friday evening also. To his surprise many if not all of the vehicles occupants seemed nervous too. He once again shouted to the Universe, "GOD I wish I could live in a more pleasant time. All this traffic and modern gridlock is killing me." He heard his dogs vaccination tags rattle as they moved to the gap between the front bucket seats to see if he was OK after his outburst.

In disgust Sam said 'fuck it' to himself. He bent sideways and reached toward the cooler in the passenger floorboards. He pushed his pair of registered Australian Sheppard dogs out of the way when he leaned over the center console. They were in the small back seat but kept their heads pushed through the gap between the front bucket seats. Since his wife died they were his entire family. They loved him and never let a chance go by to show it. As he tried to push them back they each managed to give him a good licking to show their love and devotion.

After the dogs were back in the seat correctly he once again bent toward the cooler. This time he grabbed an ice cold can of Lone Star and placed it in his crotch. He carefully closed the lid on the cooler then popped the top on the beer. Sam wrapped his large hand around the can hiding the writing on it as much as possible. He furtively looked around for "Smokey" then rapidly raised the can to his lips and took a deep draw on the ice cold brew. When he pulled it away from his lips he let out a loud and satisfying burp. Sam sighed and thought, 'Damn that is good.'

Sam knew why they passed the strict laws on drinking and driving and intellectually agreed with them but he hated them at the same time. Sometimes a man NEEDED a drink, especially after a hard day at work even if he was driving down a crowded road. Today had been one of those hard days too. Sam put in 11 hours working on a down refinery. Oh, sure, he was the engineer in charge of the repairs but it was still a damn long and hard day. He was a hands on supervisor. Before he got his degree he worked as a pipefitter in this same refinery. He felt he knew much more than the men working under him and sometimes he just had to put in some muscle time to show them how to do the job or to speed the repairs along.

Sam cursed the fact the radio in the rusty old mustang was broken. He cursed even more the fact his air conditioner was broken. Here he was 34 years old and starting over once again thanks to his now deceased wife. He had loved her to pieces but in the end she was the reason he had nothing. Sam never considered the irony of his feelings about drinking and driving even though that was what landed him in the poor house.

His wife was a party girl. That was what initially attracted Sam to her but by the time she died it was also tearing them apart. The night she died she was once again out with the girls. As normal on the girl's night out she got totally shit faced. Then she tried to drive home instead of getting a cab or ride from someone else. She T-Boned a small SUV with her Lincoln Navigator and killed the woman driving it. She also seriously injured the three young children inside. The husband sued Sam and won a settlement in the millions of dollars. Even after their insurance paid on the accident Sam was forced to sign over his and his deceased wife's entire net worth to the man for his loss. Sam then filed bankruptcy to get his head above water once more.

Sam was inherently a good man but like many from his part of Texas he was a wild one. Sam was also a ladies' man. He loved the women and they loved him. Many would call him an alpha male. Other men naturally followed him and deferred to him. He was lean, good looking and able to talk a woman out of her panties and into his bed with little or no effort. Luckily his deceased wife went for that kind of man. She had been his queen and on many occasions she provided his newest conquest. She primarily but actually both of them were looking for another wife. They auditioned several over their short time together but none of them worked out. Many of the women 'auditioned' thought they would supplant his wife and either be the main woman in his life or the only one. After the accident Sam became a no woman man. After he healed slightly he dropped all the women they had been friendly with and began a long line of one night or one week stands. He was looking for that special woman, one who was like his deceased wife.

As Sam's vehicle inched along the freeway he surreptitiously drank his brew and thought about the mess his life was in. He was lonesome, so lonesome. All the pussy he sampled since his wife died did not help his loneliness. Even while he was with his woman of the moment there was a core of loneliness, a yearning inside. Sure he got his rocks off but the emotional aspect was not there. He also missed the excitement his wife brought to the bedroom and her sexually submissive ways. She was not a submissive any more than he was a Dom in the traditional sense of the word. Rather they had a unique relationship sexually. She was always ready for sex and he was always ready to give it. Only in the bedroom did he dominate or did she submit and even then she exerted a modicum of control. At least she controlled the entrance of other women into their sexual playtime.

Outside the bedroom Sam's wife was almost the dominant one. She ruled the house with an iron hand. If it related to the house it was in her domain. The relationship or social side of the marriage was almost 60/40 her domain but in all other aspects of their life Sam ruled the roost. He had the last word on sex and finances. Sam would laugh at you if you said it but he was looking for love and commitment. Unfortunately you just don't find that in a one night stand picked up in a bar. It is also rare when you find a significant other that will be true to you in a bar. To use the lyrics of an old song, Sam was looking for love in all the wrong places. As he had these thoughts Sam continued to drive slowly, drink rapidly and think about the mess his life had become.

Finally Sam got far enough out of town traffic began to pick up speed. He was headed for his grandfather's old farm east of Nacogdoches, TX. It had been several months since he was there and he wanted, he NEEDED the solitude and peace he found in the old place. Gramps had been gone now for several years and his grandmother was in a nursing home over in Louisiana. He got over to see her maybe twice a year. He knew he was going receive the old farmstead when she died. It had been more of a home to Sam than any other place he knew. He still fondly remembered the summers spent there with his grandparent's when he was young. He had roamed the countryside for miles around when he was younger. He still remembered that part of the state as if it was his own back yard.

Sam was feeling no pain when he arrived at the last town before his little place. During the drive 7 beers disappeared down his throat. He was no doubt over the legal limit for blood alcohol content and didn't really care. He decided this was going to be one of those weekends. He pulled into the parking lot of a small strip mall in Center, TX. There was a liquor store and small grocery store still open. Sam went into the grocery store and bought a week's worth of food. He bought several cans of vegetables, soups and so forth as well as dry beans, potatoes, rice, pasta and jars of sauces. His next stop was the liquor store where he loaded up on his favorite beer and several bottles of good sippin' whiskey and one of the Glenlivet, his favorite single malt scotch.

After he loaded his little car down he took off once again. He planned to leave most of the canned and dry food at the cabin because he planned to return the next weekend and spend his vacation there. He would bring another load of things with him then. This trip he brought some of his hunting and fishing gear, sleeping bags, wood cutting gear and other camping supplies. There was almost not enough room for his two dogs after his purchases were loaded into the old car. It sat noticeably lower on the weak springs and groaned loudly when he pulled from the parking lot. The rear bumper scraped the pavement when he dropped down in the low space between the parking lot entrance ramp and highway.

As Sam drove down the smaller and smaller dirt roads heading deeper into the woods toward his house he began to worry. This was the first time he had been here when he didn't drive a 4X4 truck. The roads were way too rough for the little Mustang. Several times during the drive down his short lane the car's undercarriage scraped on a rock or high part of the road. He was going to have to figure out some way to get the road graded if he brought the mustang out here again.

It was almost full dark when Sam arrived at the old house. The house was small. The original building was just a little over 600 square feet in size. Over the years Gramps had added a small bedroom and bathroom to one side of it but other than that it was still the same old log cabin that his great grandfather built in the late 1860's. Gramps bed was still in the bedroom but Sam always used the smaller bed he considered his. It was in one corner of the main part of the cabin.

When they arrived Sam got out of the old Mustang and pulled the driver's seat back forward. He jumped back hurriedly. His dogs rushed from the car and immediately began looking for that perfect spot to leave their sign. After they each urinated they ran around the yard with their noses to the ground or up in the air sniffing at the smells to learn what was there or had been there recently. Sam smiled as he watched his best friends refamiliarize themselves with their surroundings.

While the dogs explored Sam drank another beer and worked on carrying his cooler, purchases and clothes into the cabin. On his first trip inside Sam decided it was dark enough inside he needed light. Sam set his backpack and cooler just inside the door on what passed for a kitchen table. He returned to his car and got out a flashlight and his five gallon container of kerosene for the old kerosene lamps in the cabin. Electric service had been discontinued almost 20 years before when his grandparents moved into town from the old homestead.

After getting a couple of lamps lit Sam continued to unload his car. He returned over and over until all his possessions were inside the cabin. He placed his old Model 73 Winchester beside the bed and his fishing gear in a corner of the cabin. He even picked up the ammunition cans with his loaded rounds and his reloading equipment and carried them inside. He had no reason for doing so other than he thought he might do some reloading the next day. He intended to leave early in the morning to do a little hunting or fishing then relax the rest of the day after he returned. It was deer season and landowners were allowed to take an animal on their own property without a hunting license. Fresh venison would taste pretty good he thought. Besides he had only purchased a small amount of fresh meat due to limited cooler capacity.

After Sam got the car unloaded he looked around the old cabin. Of course the old cabin was dirty because no one lived there to keep it clean. It didn't look as if any varmints or other people had been inside since he was last there. Now he was disgusted with himself however. The last time he was there he burned the last of the firewood. That was another trip when he was tired, half drunk and pissed off so he had not cut any wood before he left. Now he needed some wood and had none. Crap, back to the old car he went carrying his wood cutting gear.

Sam returned the saw, fuel and bar oil to the trunk then got into the driver's seat. He started the car and drove across the rough yard to the pile of dead wood that was pulled up into the yard and piled several months ago. He left the headlights on the pile and got out. Sam took his chain saw from the trunk and cut for about twenty minutes. After he had a decent pile of wood cut he turned the car around and loaded the trunk full. Sam drove back to the cabin and backed up beside the old front porch. He unloaded the trunk and returned for another small load of wood. It took him four trips to move all the cut wood to the cabin. Sam once again turned the front of the car toward his wood pile and left the lights on. This illuminated the area he used to split his wood.

Sam got his splitting mall, double bitted ax and wedges from the house. He rolled the first large chunk of wood on end and got to work. It took Sam almost an hour to split all the wood that needed splitting. He piled it on the porch where he usually kept it and set his tools beside it. He looked around and decided he was done for the day. He felt bad now from all the alcohol he consumed on the trip. He was also dusty and sweaty from cutting wood which did not help the way he felt. Sam walked to the car, got in and drove it back to the side of the house where he usually parked.

Sam turned the car lights off, locked it and walked into the house. He used the old hand pump in the kitchen sink to pump water to wash with. He took a quick "sponge bath" and started a small fire in the old wood cook stove. He quickly boiled water for coffee and fried up some bacon, eggs and potatoes and onions for a late meal. By the time Sam was finished it was almost ten thirty p.m. He was exhausted. He staggered over to the old bedstead in the back corner of the house and collapsed onto the bed. He was asleep almost before he got laid down. He never even bothered to cover up. He normally slept nude and this time was no different. Hell, many days he spent the whole day naked if he was not in public or was here in the woods alone or with his deceased wife.

Sam woke the next morning listening to his dogs whine and yip. He wondered what was wrong. They were normally very quiet and well behaved. This morning they were frantic to get outside and acted very nervous. From the look of the sun coming in the window Sam decided he had slept way later than he normally did. It looked as if it was almost noon. Sam looked at his watch and grimaced in disgust. Sometime during the night it stopped running. He did not remember the last time the battery was replaced but it should not have been worn out. It was definitely less than a year since it was replaced and it had not been losing time as a watch normally did when the battery was going bad. He reached for the table his cell phone was on to see what time it was. There was no service out here but he still kept the phone beside his bed. He turned it on but it didn't power up. All he got was a flash that the battery was too low for the phone to work. "Shit," he shouted. He knew the phone had a full charge the night before. It had been plugged into the car for the whole trip from town.

Sam rolled to a sitting position on the edge of the old bed. He ached in every joint and muscle. He sat there for a moment leaning on his arms resting on his thighs. Finally with a sigh he tried to stand. He let out a small groan and staggered over to the door. Damn he felt like hell and he was slightly unsettled. Something just didn't feel right. The cabin felt different as did the day. Sam opened the door and didn't even look outside. The dogs shot through the door and hit the yard yipping and running around sniffing every place they went. Sam staggered to the stove and started a small fire for his morning coffee.

After the coffee was on Sam headed for the yard and his morning piss. He intended to sit on the porch and enjoy the morning until the coffee was done then he would drink it on the porch. He moved slowly to the door and walked out onto the porch without looking around. The dogs were barking and growling at the edge of the woods near the old woodpile. Sam felt as if something was wrong but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. He started down the two porch steps when he heard a deep growl and a dog yipped almost as if in pain. Sam shook the rest of the cobwebs from his mind and looked toward the pile of uncut wood.

What he saw drove the rest of the sleep from his body. A large black bear was clawing at a tree. It dropped to all fours and took a swipe at his dogs. Sam moved to get a better look. He noticed a young girl in the tree just out of reach of the bear. Sam took the time to notice she was quite good looking. She was dressed in a buckskin dress made up like the pictures he used to see of Indian maidens. The skirt was torn and Sam could see red on the buckskin and running down her thigh and leg. The tree was barely large enough to hold the woman out of reach of the bear.

Sam finally decided he needed to stop watching and do something. He stepped into his cabin and picked up his old rifle. He used the porch post for a rest and took careful aim at the bear. He fired and the bear flinched but kept on trying to get at the dogs and woman. Sam fired once more and the bear stopped. It staggered then slowly collapsed onto the ground at the base of the tree.

The woman looked over at Sam then down at the bear. Sam slowly walked up beside the bear. He carefully reached out and poked it with his rifle. It did not move. He looked up at the woman and said, "I think its dead now. You can come down. What are you doing up there anyway? This is private property and posted no trespassing. Are you lost?"

The young woman looked at him quizzically and with some fear evident on her face. She said something in a language he did not understand. Sam motioned her out of the tree and said, "Well come on down and let me look at your leg. I am a medic in the Army Reserves so I should be able to fix you up until we can get you to a doctor. I have my medical bag in the house."

The woman looked at Sam once more then began to slowly and carefully climb down from her perch. When she hit the ground she staggered. Sam jumped to catch her then led her toward the house. When they were about half way to the house Sam stopped and stared at the front yard. "Son of a Bitch," he yelled. When he yelled the young woman pulled away from him again. She backed off a couple feet and fell to the ground holding her leg. Sam ignored her while he stared at the yard. Now he knew one of the things that had bothered him just before he saw the bear and young woman. His car was missing! Some sick son of a bitch had stolen his car during the night. Sam was surprised he hadn't at least heard the car being taken. It was loud enough with the hole in the muffler. As he looked around he got another shock. The damn lane into the yard from the road was missing. All that was visible now was a small poorly defined trail.

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