Duxford Airfield (the band) Pt. 10

Love and mystery: Story Conclusion:

____________(10)____________

JOHNNIE'S GIRL:

It was a bright, beautiful, West Texas morning as I sat in the rear seat and sipped my McDonald's coffee. Helen was again piloting the small rental car as Andrea sat beside her, in the front passenger's seat. Both ladies were sipping their own coffees and making idle small talk.

The car's windows were all rolled down and the radio was playing softly as we flew down the desert highway enroute to the oil field, and one final trip through Prominent House, for a few hours. In a mere day and a half, we would all be getting on the plane together and heading for the Lazy-G Ranch in Arizona City, home for Andrea and myself.

...It really doesn't get any better than this, I thought to myself with a slight nod of approval as I stared at the back of my wife's head and then quickly glanced at Helen Lunsford. Part of me believed that I could get very accustomed to being in the company of not one, but two, beautiful women.

...It was a fun fantasy to ponder on, for a few minutes, at least.

I sipped more of my coffee and then turned toward the passenger's window again.

...For some reason, I had always really enjoyed traveling with women in a car. Maybe because my mother had always loved road trips, and going places. Even after she'd given up her driver's license, we would still get in the car and go places, with Ricky or myself driving. Mom had been in her late eighties by then but a good overnight road trip had always brightened her spirits and brought out the little girl in her...

Traveling with my mother could sometimes be a bit frustrating, I suddenly recalled with a smile. While enroute, to where ever we were going, Mom had always insisted that we stop at seemingly every little Mom & Pop store or roadside attraction along the way, so she could talk to people and take photos.

Looking back on those experiences with Mom, I was now of the opinion that she had simply wanted to make each journey in the car last as long as possible, so she could spend that much more time with Ricky or myself. My little brother and I had always adored our mother, but sometimes weeks or even months would go by, without either of us seeing her. Ricky and I had become "adults" by then, and we'd each had our own lives to live, complete with jobs, bills, and girlfriends...

Glancing at the empty seat beside me now, I so wished my mother were here with the three of us. I could so vividly picture her sitting beside me and sipping her own McDonald's coffee while yakking with Andrea and Helen.

Mom would have fit right in and been an utter joy to have among us now...

"...I love you Mom," I said quietly to myself as I felt a single tear run down my cheek...

Taking a deep breath, I sipped more of my coffee and stared out the window again as Andrea and Helen continued talking about the little things that so often seemed to interest women. I wasn't paying much attention to their conversation, but presently they sounded like they were talking about mascara, and which shades looked good on each of them...

Today was Valentine's Day and I had promised the ladies a nice dinner out tonight, including Kendall Ludus and her boyfriend. I was looking forward to the outing and I felt as if Andrea and Helen were also.

"OH, I LOVE THIS SONG!" Helen suddenly said, cranking up the radio, loud.

Listening to the guitar and drums now, I immediately recognized the song as one of my all-time favorite old stand-bys, which in this case, was composed by The Grateful Dead. The song seemed quite appropriate, as we were after all, currently in West Texas.

Helen and Andrea now began singing loudly in unison together with the song, the way girls always do when they're driving.

"Me and my uncle went ridin' down

South Colorado, West Texas bound

We stopped over in Santa Fe

That being the point, just about halfway

And you know it was the hottest part of the day

I took the horses up to the stall

Went to the barroom, ordered drinks for all

Three days in the saddle, you know my body hurt

It being summer, I took off my shirt

And tried to wash off some of that dust and dirt

West Texas cowboys, they's all around

With liquor and money, they're loaded down

So soon after payday, Lord it seemed a shame;

You know my uncle, he starts a friendly game

High-low jack and the winner takes the hand

My uncle starts winnin'; the cowboys got sore

One of them called him, and then two more

Accused him of cheatin'; oh no, it couldn't be

I know my uncle, he's as honest as me

And I'm as honest as a gamblin' man can be

One of them cowboys, he starts to draw

And I shot him down Lord, he never saw

Shot me another, I'll dare he won't grow old

In the confusion, my uncle grabbed the gold

And hey we high-tailed it down to Mexico

I love those cowboys, I love their gold

I loved my uncle, God rest his soul

Taught me good, Lord taught me all I know

Taught me so well, I got that gold

And left his dead ass there by the side of the road..."

At the song's end, the car was suddenly filled with the girlish laughter of both Andrea and Helen.

"You alright, back there, cowboy? It's not going to bother you if a coupl'a crazy broads sing, is it?" Helen asked me, smiling widely and making eye contact with me in the rearview mirror.

"It was beautiful, ladies" I replied, returning the smile, and holding up my coffee cup in salute.

"Any requests, from back there?" my wife asked, smiling back at me.

"How about -These boots were made for walking!" I replied, smiling broadly.

The ladies found this answer to be hilarious and the car was suddenly filled with their laughter again...

There were a few half-hearted attempts at my requested song but it was interrupted each time by either the laughter of Helen or Andrea or both ladies.

The sound of their laughter filling the car was delightful.

...Twenty-five minutes later the three of us were, again, traveling with Kendall Ludus in the yellow crew cab pickup truck, after having been signed into the oil field and been issued our visitor badges, hard hats, safety goggles, and orange safety vests. We'd also gotten to refill our coffee cups and been given the liberty of helping ourselves to some awesome-looking roast beef sandwiches and cans of pop.

"Mister Billingsly is already on location with several of our local F.B.I. agents and also a Dutch gentleman named Arthur Brand, one of the world's leading art detectives" Kendall explained proudly.

"Art Detective?" Helen asked, looking at Kendall.

"Yes, Arthur Brand is an art detective and he's been extremely successful in recovering many priceless pieces of stolen art over the years. He was on vacation, in London, when we sent word to him of what we'd found. He boarded the next plane and got here, late last night. Several Nations of the world have already been discreetly informed that some of their priceless art may have been found." Kendall explained excitedly.

"Oh, I'm so glad that the paintings were taken seriously and not hoarded by someone else, thanks for telling us, Kendall,," Helen said with obvious relief in her voice.

"Please don't mention to anyone, what I just told you, folks. The last thing we want out here, is a media circus" Kendall replied, with a wave of dismissal.

"We won't say anything, Kendall, I still have a book to publish and I want to keep Prominent House a secret" Helen replied.

"Are you going to mention Prominent House in your new book, Helen?" Kendall asked.

"No, the more I think about it, the more I think I'll leave Prominent House out of the book. It really doesn't have anything to do with Danny, at least not in the context, that I plan to use" Helen answered.

"That's so awesome about the paintings, Kendall! Andrea suddenly interjected happily.

The ladies were suddenly all three, talking excitedly at once, and the mood inside the truck cab was almost festive. Personally, I was very happy that the paintings were being treated with the care and respect that they deserved.

Sipping more of my coffee, I began to tune out the ladies' joyous chatter and started noticing all of the road graders that were currently working on the road. Oil Well road was one hundred percent better than it had been a mere two days ago.

"On your left, Bert" Kendall now spoke into her mike as we passed around yet another road grader.

The operator replied with a wave out the open door of the cab.

Kendall, wearing an orange safety vest of her own, appeared to be wearing a white tank top underneath. I had never really thought about it before, but looking at her now, I realized that Kendall was a very sexy girl...

...Andrea had already extended an invitation for Kendall and her boyfriend to come stay with us sometime, at the ranch. Kendall had stated, during one our previous trips to Prominent House, that she was a horse lover, herself. This fact created an immediate bond between Andrea and Kendall that would probably last their entire lives.

...The phrase "Birds of a feather" now flashed through my mind.

"Oh, just so you'll all know, King's Court is now officially known as Prosperity Way" Kendall said as we turned off of Oil Well road and began travelling the last few miles toward Prominent House.

"This, was King's Court, where we got stuck in the rain, the other night? I can't believe the difference in the road now" I said in true amazement...

"They've been working on it, twenty-four hours a day, for two days now, Tim. We'll be putting in a tank farm and auxiliary pump station out here within the next year, so the road has to be reliable" Kendall explained.

I now noticed that we were currently travelling upon a four foot high bed of gravel which was supporting "Prosperity Way." The road was now wide enough for two semi trucks to easily pass each other in opposite directions.

"They've done all this work in two days?" Andrea asked incredulously, looking at the road bed.

"Yup, they're hauling gravel with two dozen B-70s and it's been going on, around the clock" Kendall nodded as we sped along smoothly.

After a few more minutes of travelling, we rounded the last corner of the road and Prominent House came into view once more. However, instead of being struck with a sudden feeling of isolation, there was now a bee hive of activity, consisting of large earth moving equipment and dozens of people milling about.

Looking through the windshield, from the back seat, I saw a dozen or more of the bright yellow pickup trucks, several excavators, and also compactors, all scattered about. I then watched several of the B-70s roll in, single file, and dump their loads of earth in front of a pair large bulldozers. It was quite obvious that a large pad was being created, directly to the north of Prominent House.

Sipping my coffee, I noticed several surveyors and what appeared to be road and pipe engineers, all of them clustered around a small table which was in front of a mobile trailer office.

Looking out the passenger's window now, I also saw more than a dozen people directly in front of the large cathedral doors of Prominent House. The letters, F.B.I., were clearly marked on the backs of several people all congregating around half-a-dozen white Sprinter vans, which were backed up to the mansion's front doors.

"...It looks like they're treating your paintings with the utmost care and respect, Helen" I said quietly.

"I'm so glad, Tim" Helen replied, as she looked out the passenger's window and toward Prominent House.

"All of us are, honey" Andrea said.

"Adam - one, this is Delta - seven, we are on location now. Should I proceed with plan - alpha?" Kendal asked into her shoulder mounted mic.

"Affirmative, Delta - seven, proceed with plan-A, please" came the quick reply, the voice obviously belonging to that of Earl Billingsly.

"OK, folks, the Feds are going to be a while yet, so let's check our Sad Hill and the out-buildings that you expressed interest in, the other day" Kendall said as we slowly passed the main doors of Prominent House and skirted around the pad which was being constructed. Kendall steered wide of the construction machinery, being especially careful to give the massive B-70s a wide berth.

"Hang on to your coffees folks" Kendall said as we began to bump along a narrow cow path now.

After five minutes of rough travel, we abruptly pulled up to a crooked archway and tumbled down wrought iron fencing.

"Sad Hill" Kendall announced as she threw the truck into Park and shut off the engine.

"May we take some video footage, Kendall?" Andrea asked, reaching for her camera.

"Sure, but I'll have to inspect it" Kendall answered as she opened her door and swung down to the ground.

Andrea and I also got out of the truck, as did Helen.

"As I recall, the dates start around eighteen-seventy, when this was all still a cattle ranch. The later dates are after the old man had struck oil, in eighteen-ninety" Kendall explained, leading us.

The cemetery looked as one would expect in an old Western movie, complete with leaning headstones and long since dried foliage. Most of the wrought iron fencing was down and it even looked as if four wheelers had recently been driven through the center of the cemetery at a high rate of speed. Possibly the two drunk cowboy's who'd recently been arrested.

I began reading some of the headstones, aloud, as Andrea and Helen began filming.

"Slappy Sam, bar tender, killed in saloon brawl, July 4th, 1872"

"Handsome Ray Horace, piano player, born June 12th 1829, killed in saloon brawl, July 4th, 1872"

"Robert 'Tex' Lenz, cow boy, killed in saloon brawl, July 4th, 1872"

"...That must have been one hell of a bar fight" I commented aloud, shaking my head in total disbelief.

I walked a few paces and continued reading the headstones.

"Shorty Ortega, vaquero, born 1855, died November 3rd 1872"

"Big Jim Stevens, cow boy, died in stampede August 21st 1874, Asleep in Jesus"

"Kenny Niles, died in stampede August 21st 1874"

"Slim Jensen, died 1875, A bad card sharp and worser gun man"

"Henry Brathe, cow boy, 1847 - 1876, Rode with Pickett"

"Cherokee Joe, died June 15th, 1876"

"Dan Gallo, Teamster, died October 11th 1876"

"1876: Edward Hatch, a cheat and constant liar that always ran out on his bills. Here he is, no longer a thief but lying still"

"Are you making that up, Tim?" Helen now asked me incredulously.

I solemnly shook my head and pointed to the marker.

"Oh my God, I don't believe this" Andrea said, pointing her camera at the leaning stone marker and shooting video.

Looking all around us now, I estimated that there were probably around seventy-five or eighty graves within the half acre which we were now standing in.

"Any idea when the last wayward soul was laid to rest here, Kendall?" I asked.

"I'm not really sure, Tim, but I'd guess it'd be in the mid nineteen-thirties. Long after King died, or left, whichever the case may have been" Kendall said.

"I guess the Countess had been a good business woman, from the sound of it. She must have had some very loyal people on her payroll" I said, in reply.

"The Countess apparently ran a pretty tight ship and didn't put up with a lot of shenanigans. The wild west days were over by then and the Countess wanted people that could do an honest day's work and show up on time and show up sober. At least, that's her legacy" Kendall answered with a shrug.

"I wonder what it'd been like to work for her?" I asked aloud.

"Folklore says that if you did your job and tried to get along with the other hired help, you'd have a job for life. Although, I seriously doubt if the Countess of Knoff ever rubbed elbows with her roughnecks.

I silently nodded my head but made no further reply.

"Places like this sure are nostalgic aren't they? They kind of take a person back in time and put things into perspective. Most of us worry about things that don't even matter, like what others think of us or how much money we have" Helen commented to no one in particular as she stared at one of the stone markers.

"We really don't have a legitimate gripe about anything, when you consider how hard life was for some of these people" Andrea replied.

There was a long silence between the four of us for several seconds then. The only sounds we could hear now were snorting diesel engines and the clanking of Caterpillar tracks as the crews continued working on the pad for the new tank farm.

The next several headstones that we looked at were illegible due to breakage and erosion, so the ladies and I made our way further toward the center of the cemetery and continued reading the colorfully inscribed headstones.

"Little Jane Platt, born 1854, died May 17th 1877 Asleep in Jesus"

"Misty Rae Brooks, Texas gal, died 1879"

"Granny Gertrude, Flower Of The South, died 1881"

"I wonder why so many of these markers don't mention a birth date, or even a last name?" Kendall suddenly asked.

Helen now answered Kendall.

"Notice how young most of them were, Kendall. Many of these people were undoubtedly living on the ragged edge of society and probably struggling with alcoholism or drug addiction of some kind. Opiates were available over the counter then, and even Coca-Cola was made from small doses of actual coca leaves. I would imagine the whole damn place was full of people buzzing on one thing or another.

A great deal of these people probably had a sordid past and may even have been sought by the law somewhere else. Some might call these people, boomtown riff-raff, - they were people that followed boomtowns and tried to make a living with cards, prostitution, or by stealing. Sur names that they did provide, if any, were probably bogus anyway. Back when this was all a cattle ranch, it really wasn't that much different than a boomtown in many ways, when you think about" Helen remarked.

Kendall sadly nodded her head, at Helen's reply.

I began reading more of the headstones, many of which were now decorated with flowers and angels.

"Cindy McCormick, piano player, died 1883"

"Lacey Renee, 1864 - 1887"

"Are these working girls, do you think, Tim?" Andrea asked, looking past her camera at the headstones.

"They're soiled doves, yes. The old man probably had a dancehall and brothel set up right here on the premises someplace, complete with free whiskey and gambling tables for his hired hands. If the cowboys got drunk and gambled away their entire paychecks, then so much the better for old man King. These gals that worked the saloon here, lived hard and fast lives, Andrea" I answered sadly, looking at the headstone of the twenty-three year old Lacey Renee.

Lacey Renee had been born exactly one-hundred years before me, I now realized...

"...Yes, I'm sure they did, Tim. Shall we move onward toward the out buildings now?" Andrea asked the group of us as she shut off her camera.

There was no protest from any of us, at this suggestion...

We got back into the yellow crew cab and travelled further down the narrow pathway. We soon stopped beside a massive adobe building with a long ago callapsd wooden roof. Kendall now declared we had arrived at the new power station.

"This is the 'new' power station?" Helen asked.

"Yes, this power station has diesels and the old power station used steam engines, I'll show you that in a minute. We believe the Countess constructed this power station during the late nineteen-twenties" Kendall explained, stepping out onto the ground.

Kendall now grabbed a broom handle from the crew cab's cargo bed and began knocking away the dried brush and tumble weeds from the building's front.

"OK, you guys, I don't think its a good idea for us to go inside but you should be able to get some fairly decent photographs from the windows" Kendall said.