V00 The Headless Horseman Table of Content

V01 Skytop
V02 JC
V03 The Canyon
V04 The Box Canyon Camp
V05 The Raiders
V06 The Family Fortune
V07 After Dinner

Return to Stories Table of content

L04V01 Skytop

Friday the thirteenth, my lucky day, it was good omen, I was lucky when I needed to be. Every meeting is potentially dangerous, even a casual and innocent one. I had seen him on several previous flights, but this was our first exchange. A mellow tenor voice asked, "Would you mind exchanging seats with me?" I turned from the window and saw a large man standing in the aisle, we exchanged seats. He looked out the window and I read the rest of the flight.
On Monday morning, the woman in front of me became flustered, she was at the wrong gate. She turned around abruptly, knocking me into the person behind. It was him. He helped me maintain my balance. "Thank you."
"Glad to assist." When I turned back to the gate, I stumbled, the woman dropped a package. Without thinking, I reached down, picked it up, and ran after her. I turned out of the gate area and followed her down the hall. One side was cordoned off for repairs. The narrowed hallway filled with people going in the opposite direction, I felt like a salmon swimming up stream. I leaped the rope, ran after her, and leaped the rope at the other end. I caught her before she turned the corner. She recognized the package, accepted it, and thanked me. I turned, leaped the rope, ran back, leaped the rope at the other end, and went to the end of the line.
He caught my eye and signaled for me to join him. As I approached he said, "You don't have to give up your place just because you did someone a favor."
"Next please."
He turned toward the clerk and back to me. "Would you care to sit next to me?" I nodded. He made the arrangements and we moved to the boarding line. We went through the usual boarding procedures and he looked out the window. When the seat belt sign chime sounded, he turned, "You jumped that rope like a gazelle."
"I ran hurdles in high school."
"I didn't have time for athletics in school, but I've always admired athletes. I don't frequent athletic events very much any more, my corporation is building a skyscraper downtown and since I'm the architect and the civil engineer in charge, I don't have very much free time."
"Are you married?"
"No, I live alone." He looked out the window and read for a while, then asked, "Do you fly this route often? I remember seeing you on this same flight before and another on Friday evening."
"Yes. Business in New York during the week and pleasure in Chicago on the weekends."
"Why I do the same thing. I go to Chicago to look at buildings, a true busman's holiday, an architect looking at buildings," he chuckled to himself.
We talked about anything and everything for the rest of the flight, time passed very quickly. As the plane rolled to the gate, "Would you care to share a cab into the city?"
"Sure, are you traveling light?"
"Only a small suitcase under the seat."
"Me too, only my briefcase and my pet rock." He chuckled.
After we were on the bridge, "Any chance you'll be going to Chicago next weekend?"
"Yes, every weekend."
"I've enjoyed your conversation very much. I would like to have you as a seat mate again, if your schedule matches mine." He handed me a copy of his flight schedule.
"I'm already booked on those same flights." He looked very pleased.
"By the way I'm," and introduced himself, "but please call me, Jerry."
"Call me, Jim."
The cab stopped at his destination. He handed the driver a bill and got out. "Till next weekend, then. Have a good week."
I would have a good week if it went anything like the return flight. The week did go quickly. My cab was waiting, as I walked out of the building. I even had a little extra time before departure and walked leisurely through the terminal. I did not see Jerry, he was four people behind me, until I heard him laugh as I explained to the security people that my pet rock would not go through the detector. One of them opened the pouch to make sure it was a rock and they all smiled when it was displayed. Another responded, "I hope both of you have a good trip."
"We will, one good thing about pet rocks, is they never get motion sickness." Everyone nearby laughed. Jerry caught up with me a few moments later, "Do you really take that thing with you every where you go?"
"Yes," and I showed him how the small soft leather pouch fit smoothly around the pound and a half, half egg shaped rock, it was flat on one side with rounded edges, and how the draw string leather strap looped tight around my wrist. When the strap was snug against my wrist, the pouch and its content were barely visible below my left hand.
I demonstrated how easily it fell out of my way when I wanted to use my hand to do something else. "Very few people are aware that I'm carrying it."
"I didn't notice it, until you turned it over at the security check." We walked to the boarding gate and waited in line. "My building project, 'Skytop', is in trouble."
My jaw must have hit the floor because he stopped talking and looked at me with a funny look on his face, I nearly laughed. "What a coincidence, one of the projects I'm working on is called 'Skytop'."
"I'm having difficulty keeping building material on schedule. If I can't improve it, it will delay the construction."
It was mid-flight before he changed subjects and then we swapped stories about high school and college. He wouldn't let me let him do all the talking. He insisted I tell about a specific event in detail, before he would tell me more about himself. "Most of my life was boring and I don't want to talk about it. Besides, I'm having difficulty remembering the details."
"I don't, my life has not been exciting, but I can remember all the boring details."
I barely passed with high enough grades to stay in school, he had all A's. I never knew what I wanted to do, he knew as far back as he could remember. I was the class weakling, everyone picked on me, he was big and strong, very few people bothered him. I was the smallest member of our football team, but also the quickest, he was the largest boy in his class, but slow and clumsy. I had a few moments of glory in athletics, he had many in academics.
We were about as opposite as we could be, but I enjoyed his company and his conversation. His stories never bored me and he seemed to enjoy my company. We were seat mates on half our flights over the next three months.
We did have some things in common. We were in our mid thirties, living alone, and we both liked to eat, all different kinds of foods. We differed on drink, I liked beer, he liked fine wines and liqueurs. "How about having dinner with me after we land?" I changed my schedule and we had dinner after we arrived in Chicago before we went our separate ways.
Sometime later, Jerry asked, "Why not meet for dinner on Wednesday night? It'll break up the week." Again, I changed my routine and we met for dinner every Wednesday night. Each time he asked me to go to his apartment for an after dinner drink and some more conversation.
"I'm working over time and I have to get back to work. I'm way behind schedule."
Each time he was more insistent, but he did accept the fact that I was not going, I had to get back to work.
On our next flight to Chicago, he abruptly changed the topic of conversation, "What is it that you do for employment?"
"I'm a systems analyst."
"What do you do?"
"I analyze systems."
"Thanks a lot. What does your word system mean?"
"Well to me a system is directed activities using resources within an environment that will accomplish a goal for a user."
"OK, how do you analyze a system?"
"I try to get our customers to define their goals, first."
"If you don't know where you are going any road will get you there. Eh?"
"Right. Then I work backwards from the word goal in my definition and check their system to see if it is doing what they want it to do. Then I check for effectiveness and efficiency."
"What do you mean?"
"Effective is accomplishing the goal and efficiency is using the least amount of resources in accomplishing the goal."
"That doesn't sound so difficult. I do much the same every day in my work, I just use different words.
Why are you so busy?"
"You're right, the work is not difficult, but most people do it so poorly. It's amazing how many people don't even have the slightest idea what their goals are. That's the most difficult part, trying to get our customers to define their goals. When they write them down, their goals are down right stupid, even contradictory and usually stated in abstract and fuzzy words.
I became very frustrated with a customer, after weeks of work on his goals, he threw my work into the waste basket and said, 'All I want to do is make more money.'
I gave him two pennies and told him I would send him my bill. He was so shocked he chased me down the hall and asked me to try again."
"That still doesn't explain why you're so busy. Why are you behind in your work?"
"You're right, I'm not using my own skills. I get carried away when I talk about my work, I enjoy it very much. Two of our analysts were injured in a car accident and I'm trying to do the work of three people."
"You were very brash, giving a customer two cents and walking out."
"No more brash than you. You just told me a story where one of your employees kept telling you about things that needed to be done and you responded, 'Is your mouth the only thing that works?'. Obviously, he could have done what he told you rather than wasting your time by telling you."
"It's your turn to be right. I have very little patients with people who tell me what needs to be done when they could have done it in the same length of time it takes to tell me about it."
"Your other stories indicate that you treat your employees as if they were a commodity. It became very apparent to me that you can treat labor as a commodity some times, but not all the time."
"Why not?"
"All people are independent systems. The advantage of using independent systems is that they can full fill the role of any part of another system, all the way from its smallest part up to and including the whole system. As long as people play the role you can manage them, because a manager manages a system, but when people revert to behaving as an independent system, which they can do at any time, you can not manage them. You can lead a horse to water, but ...., there is no way anyone can manage independent systems, you must lead them, you must get their willing cooperation."
"Is that all your theory told you?" I continued, completely ignoring his sarcasm. "No, it also indicated another reason why we cannot have total peace, we can only reach an arbitrary level of nonviolence. Every system must be active or else it is 'dead', it must occupy space and it must use resources. All of these will lead to conflict with other systems."
"You used the word 'another', that implies more than one reason. Tell me another reason."
"After hearing a story about a man named Doc, I came to the conclusion, that there is no battle between the sexes. The battle is with the herd. Every person could live perfectly well without sex, but the herd would die. The herd imposes the requirement of sex on the individual for its own survival, this creates a conflict of interest to the individual and between individuals. This conflict can never be resolved. No matter what form, conflict is conflict, it is not peace."
"The son of man has no place to rest his head, is that what you're trying to tell me?"
"How true, from the time we are born until we die, we are on the slippery slope and like a drowning person we grab at straws, trying to hold still."
"Enough."
"From what you have told me, you could use a systems analysis of your operation. I would volunteer my services to you, but I just don't have the time."
"You're going to be my nemesis aren't you, Jim.
You are going to be my nemesis."
With a sullen look he turned to the window and was silent the rest of the flight. I didn't understand what he meant, but I didn't ask him to explain. I wondered what I had done to offend him. As we rolled to the gate he began to talk again as if nothing had happened. When my schedule permitted, I joined Jerry on Sunday afternoons. I found that I enjoyed looking at buildings, too, after he taught me what to observe in the design of each one. He made arrangements so we could go inside and look at the interiors as well. He always had more buildings to look at than he had time.
We walked to the top of a old five story building, when we reached the top Jerry looked at his watch, "Oh my, we're behind schedule, we'd better run down."
At the last two steps of each flight I put my hand firmly on the railing and vaulted over it, landing on the third step going down the next flight. Soon, I left Jerry far behind. I was completely rested when he finally came puffing down the last flight of stairs. We arrived at O'Hare with a few minutes to spare.
He rested half of the flight before he wanted to talk. Then he spent the rest of the time telling me how graceful I was. By the end of the flight I was annoyed. Another incident caused me to question my relationship with Jerry.
One old building had wide smooth solid brass stairway railings mounted on top of narrow walls. The turns at the bottom of each flight were very wide and round. We were alone and I could not resist the temptation, I slid down the banister for three flights. Jerry roared with laughter.
Again, I was the center of his conversation on the flight to New York and on Wednesday night he insisted I go with him to his apartment after dinner. He was angry, "You are my nemesis," and stormed out of the restaurant.
He was more distant in our relationship, I was no longer the center of his conversation. The next flight to Chicago made me very much aware that Jerry spent a good share of his conversation praising me, because of its absence. He stopped insisting that I go to his apartment after our Wednesday night dinner, instead he tried to get me to have another drink, an after dinner drink.
One night I did, it was the greatest mistake I ever made. I don't remember, but I don't think I took more than two swallows, when I felt funny. The sensation lasted only a few seconds and disappeared. I didn't think too much about it until it returned again and again like waves coming on shore, with the time between each occurrence becoming shorter and the length of time each lasted becoming longer.
When I finally decided to say something, it was to late. I couldn't talk, I couldn't control my movement, my brain was not functioning, everything was jumbled, illogical. I had tunnel vision, it was like looking down the wrong end of a telescope, I could only see what was directly in front of me. I remember hearing Jerry say, "My friend has had one to many."
Next, I felt someone rubbing a perfumed lotion into the skin of my shoulders, back, and buttocks. Slowly, my muscles and brain began to respond, I had some control, but an asthma attack was coming. I moved to get away from the smell. When I moved, he stopped and lifted his hands from my body. I rolled off the bed onto the floor, stood up quickly, and asked, "Where's your bathroom?"
Jerry was surprised, he looked at me blankly and pointed. I ran into the bathroom and showered, cold water kept the odor low. I knew I was in great danger, but I had to remove the lotion fast or nothing else would matter, I would collapse. With the lotion removed, I turned on the hot water, I could breath again.
The tunnel vision remained, my brain was foggy, and the funny feeling kept coming back, but not as strong and not as frequent, I could remain standing, I just could not move while it was in control.
I got out of the shower, grabbed a towel, and dried. I was not alone. Just inside the door, Jerry knelt with his head almost on the floor. He was nude. "I am sorry, Jim, I forgot."
"How could you forget after that time on the plane. You had to carry me to another seat, to get me away from that woman. She wore so much perfume that even you couldn't stand it. The pilot was even considering an emergency landing until I finally convinced him I would be all right. How could you forget?"
"Please Jim, don't reject me, I love you."
"You love me? Some love, you drug me and damn near kill me and you talk of love. You're sick. That's not love."
"Please Jim, forgive me. Forget what has happened. I was desperate, I had to do it. You wouldn't let me get close."
"I'm not sure I want you for a friend."
"Please Jim, forgive me. Come to bed with me and I will make it up to you."
"I will forgive you, but you must get help. I will help you if you get help."
"No, I don't need help, I need you. Don't make me do it."
"Do what?" As he raised his head, a small red silk scarf came into focus on the floor followed by a goalies mask covering his face.
"Don't make me do it."
"I'm not making you do anything."
"YOU ARE MY NEMESIS."
Slowly, he removed the silk scarf to reveal a ceremonial knife and even more slowly he reached for it, as if he was carrying out some sort of ritual. How could he be so deliberate? What did he think I was going to do, just stand there?
During the conversation, I removed my pet rock, keeping my actions concealed behind the towel. While he was reaching for the knife, I went into my wind up. When his head faced me the rock was already on its way with all the force I could muster. The rock slammed into the goalies mask right between his eyes. His head flew backwards and bounced off the floor, the force of the blow straightening his body on the floor.
Another wave of that funny feeling slammed into me as I tried to check him, I stumbled and fell. As I struggled to my feet, my inner voice said, "Get your rock and get dressed."
While sitting on the end of the bed tying my last shoe, something told me to move fast. I don't know what it was, a sound, a change in the light intensity, or what, I obeyed.
Instinctively, I slid my fingers through the loop of my pet rock pouch, pushed with both legs as hard as I could, and threw my body back and to the right.
I never saw or felt his blow. My left shoulder and arm went limp, my body accelerated backward and bounced off the bed. My legs continued to push and I rolled over on the floor away from the bed, my pet rock pouch loop sliding from my left hand.
He lost his balance adjusting his swing in mid course to match my changing position and his momentum carried him flat on the bed next to where I had been. He scrambled after me, but could not reach me.
I slid my right hand through my pet rock pouch loop, jumped to my feet, and lash out at him with my pet rock. He fell back on the bed. I don't know where I hit him.
Another wave hit me and my inner voice said, "Get out of here." I ran into the living room, to the first door I thought was the entrance.
I stood in the light from the open door trying to make a decision. "Should I go up or down?" If I'm at his apartment, I'm five floors from the top of his unfinished building." I decided to go up.
I reached for the railing, but my left arm would not move. Keeping my right hand on the railing I went up as fast as I could and disappeared into the darkness. The lights of the city were a welcomed sight and allowed me to see the doors and windows on the top landing.
Only when I tried to open one did the thought occur to me that they would be locked. "Damn." From below Jerry yelled in a taunting voice, "Don't vault any landings on the way down or you will go further than you think."
Again and again, I tried each window and door. "Or did you go up?" Slow heavy foot steps echoed up the stair well. I didn't want to break the glass with my pet rock unless I had too, I didn't want him to know where I was.
Accidentally, I pushed side ways on a window, it moved. The window had a wide rain lip at the top. Grasping it with my right hand, I raised my body out. Exhausted, I clung to the window frame so I could look around.
"What now?"
A bright light over powered the city lights and came to rest on the only clear area on the top of the building. I staggered toward it. When I reached the circle of white light, a loop descended toward me out of the darkness. I slid my right hand through the loop, pulled my body into it, sat in the loop, and slid my right hand up into a smaller hand loop.
Like someone threw a switch, my brain recognized the thump, thump of a helicopter and the whir of a winch. I turned slowly as I went up and struggled to remain conscious. Strong hands pulled me inside.
Jerry reached the top and turned on the lights. He took one look and went down the stairs as the door closed in front of me and the helicopter moved.
In the dim light I recognized a friendly face. "Rick! You will never know how glad I am to see you."
"And you will never know how glad I am to see YOU."
"Don't touch my left arm." I passed out.

Return to Headless Table of content

L04V02 J.C.

"Gee, grandpa, just like on TV," said fourteen year old Jimmy.
"Don't interrupt the story, Jimmy, there are to many lose ends," said sixteen year old Jane, "Please finish the story, grandpa."
"Your grandfather has a fantastic imagination," said James.
"Please daddy, I believe grandpa's stories, if they are fiction, he always begins with 'This is the way the story was told to me', or words to that effect."
"Dad."
"That other place."
"Dad!
Is something wrong?"
"He was so violent and yet, Doc would have been appalled at the violence in our society." James shook my arm. "OH.
Pardon me, I drifted off. Jimmy's remark, 'Just like TV', emphasized the violence and brought back a memory. Its strange how our lives are intertwined."
"Doc, who?"
"Nothing, a story I heard before I was married."
The children were bored after they had explored the train and spent some time looking out the window. They had seen most of the Midwest, so the landscape did not interest them, only crossing the Mississippi held their attention.
After we pulled out of the St. Louis station, they insisted I tell a story. "Please continue, grandpa."
I awoke in a hospital and pushed the attention button, a nurse came very quickly. "I'm starving."
"You should be after sleeping for thirty six hours." She returned in a few minutes with a glass of orange juice. "This should tide you over until your meal arrives." I almost said, "What took you so long to bring one small glass of orange juice," but I didn't.
Fifteen minutes later my meal arrived. While eating, Rick walked in. Then I understood, she must have called him before she brought my juice. "You'll be here a couple of days for observation. They want to make sure nothing else is wrong before they release you. Jerry broke your collar bone, other than that you are OK.
They don't know what he used to drug you." I kept on eating. "When you get back to the office I want a full report on that last night." He moved closer to the bed, "I know you want to know how it ended and why I was so glad to see you."
"Not as much as I was to see you, but tell me, why WERE you so glad to see me?"
"I made the cardinal sin of a backup man, I left you alone to make a phone call. I let myself be lulled to sleep, all the other times were routine. A backup man can't do that, no matter how many times nothing happens.
Damn it." He turned toward the wall briefly and then back to me. "Fortunately for both of us, you survived and my error allowed the case to be solved.
When I returned to the dining room, you were gone. I ran to the door and when I reached the street there was no sign of you there either. I raced to my car and called dispatch for help. I asked them to meet me at his building, I didn't know where else to look.
Thank God, you were there. I would never have forgiven myself if he had killed you. When I arrived, the door was locked and no lights were on anywhere inside the building. I looked through the windows in the hope that I would see something, anything, that would tell me I had made the right decision.
I calmed down a little when I saw the elevator floor numbers light up and go off in succession. I ran back to my car and called for a lock smith and following my intuition, for a helicopter. Dispatch told me where to go to meet the chopper. Before I signed off a patrol car arrived. I filled them in and left.
When I reached the landing pad, it had not arrived. All I could do was talk to the patrolmen via a telephone to radio hookup. They tried all the doors on all sides of the building, all were locked. By then, the locksmith arrived and more patrolmen. Jerry turned the power off to the elevators when he reached his floor. The patrolmen climbed the stairs as far as they could, one section was missing. I'm glad you went up and not down. You would've taken a nasty fall or would've been trapped.
Do you know how slow time moves when you are waiting like that. I paced like a caged animal with sweat pouring down my face. I looked at my watch every five seconds. I could not believe more time had not elapsed.
I didn't have to tell the pilot what to do, he took off as soon as I was on board. What neither of us knew was whether we could land on his building. The pilot turned on the landing light when we arrived, we could not land. He told the winch operator to lower the loop to test the wind. As he lowered it, you suddenly appeared. No one had to say anything, that was the end of the test. As soon as you were on board the pilot headed straight to the hospital. A medical team was waiting for you and a car for me.
I quite sure you know what we found when we finally reached his apartment."
I pushed the tray aside. "Yes. You found him dead, nude, spread-eagled in the middle of his bed with both veins in his neck cut with small precise incisions, just like all of his victims.
"Rick removed my tray and replaced it with a stack of newspapers. The headlines read, 'Sky Top Serial Killer Found Dead.'
"Can you believe it, the chief has been on TV five times already." He looked at his watch and walked to the door. "I have to run, see you in the office."
A few days later, I went to the office with my arm in a sling and finished my report. Rick added my report to his and mailed them to headquarters. We reviewed the case from beginning to end several times, to see if we could have done it differently or if we could improve our methods for the next time. We finally decided we were still to personally involved to do a good critique. We would have to wait awhile or someone else would have to do it. We both knew it was a mistake for me to be the lead and Rick to be the backup, that was a reversal of our usual roles.
An inexperienced detective should never be the lead, but I was the natural one to be the lead, I was a businessman flying from Chicago to New York on a regular basis. Why would you put anyone else on the case?
The police did not have a clue, after five murders, not one. The only things in common among the five were, all were killed in the same manner, all were business men flying from Chicago to New York, all were found in rooms near the top of different hotels. Hence the media called him 'The Sky Top Killer'.
We borrowed the first part as the case name. So many men flew that route on a regular basis, it was like looking for a needle in a hay stack. I didn't suspect Jerry, I considered him a friend until he made that statement about my being his nemesis. At the same time, I thought I had done something to scare him off, but to my surprise he continued the relationship.
For some reason, Rick was suspicious of Jerry the first time he saw his name in my weekly report. He told me to continue the relationship. When Jerry insisted that I go to his apartment, Rick followed us. Seven more men died before he killed himself.
Even then, the only link we had between Jerry and the dead men were tie pins and tie clasps, he had a very large collection. A few were identified by the next of kin.
Well that raps up that story, go and find your mother and grandmother, I'm hungry, I would like to have some lunch."
"Wait grandpa. Were you a systems analyst and a detective too?", asked Jane.
"Yes, we found that as systems analysts, we could go many places and ask all kinds of questions without arousing suspicion. Rick got the idea after I finished a white collar crime case.
I was a systems analyst with a large accounting firm in Chicago. Rick came to Chicago to recruit someone to help with a very difficult case. He needed someone who knew accounting and business operations and who was not known in New York. I was the only person on our staff who had never worked in New York, in fact, I had never been to New York.
I was given a special leave to work with Rick, but I never returned to work in Chicago. I got the evidence Rick needed in less than two weeks, he could not believe it. Also, he could not believe the questions I asked to get what he needed without so much as a blink of an eye.
He asked me to work on another case, I had the same success. I was not surprised, when Rick asked me to join the force. It was exciting and I liked it, so off I went to training school. When I was graduated, Rick had already set up a special branch office in New York, in cooperation with the Chicago firm that was my former employer, as a cover for our work.
Everyone employed at the branch office was an undercover police officer, even the custodian on our floor. We never went into any police department and we never had any contact with uniformed officers. We never appeared in court, our names and faces were never in the newspapers, on radio, or TV."
"Who was Rick?"
"Rick was in charge of undercover operations. He adopted me, after my first case and we became very close friends. He almost blew the second case because he let his facial expression show surprise when I asked a question. He quickly recovered and the person I was interviewing didn't notice the change in his expression. After that episode, I had to explain for three days, that if questions were asked in a professional manner and worded in the proper way, no one will be suspicious. A third case convinced him. After that, when he worked a case, I was always his backup. When he was not working a case, I would be the backup for one of the other officers.
After my training, I trained the others to be systems analysts and assistant auditors. Rick would be the project manager, I would be the auditor, and the other people on our staff would be my assistants. We would go into a company and perform an external audit, complete with all the reports and recommendations like a regular accounting firm, it was very professional.
At the same time we gathered evidence to be use in court. Sometimes employees from other branch offices worked with us, not knowing what we were doing. It was an excellent cover."
"Are you still a detective?"
"No."
"Are you still a systems analyst?"
"No."
"Why did you work, you certainly didn't need the money?"
"No. Neither, I nor anyone in our family needs money. I'm sure you know what we do with our money."
"Yes, we know," they said in unison. "Why did you work?"
"To have something to do. I had not decided what I was going to do with my life. It was interesting and I enjoyed it."
"Why did you commute from Chicago to New York?"
"Well, at first the detective job was only temporary. Later it
became apparent to me, that if I wanted time for myself and my family, I had to leave town."
"Do you still have your pet rock?", asked Jimmy.
"Certainly do."
"Can I see it." I opened my collar and pulled a strap up until the soft leather pouch fell down in front of my shirt. I removed the rock and showed it to them. "Can I keep it."
"Not yet, I'm not finished with it, but when I am, I will give it to you. It's a family tradition to give it from grandfather to grandson along with its story since J.C.Smith found it many years ago."
"Will you tell us the story?"
"How about after lunch, it's to long to tell now."
"OK."
"When will you be finished with the rock?"
"I don't know, but I have a strange feeling that I still need it."
"Why do you wear it around your neck?"
"Because it's to heavy for my wrist, I'm not as strong as I used to be."
I replaced the rock in its pouch and placed the pouch down inside my shirt. Jane and Jimmy ran to find the women. James and I proceeded to the dinning car at a much slower pace. During lunch the children told the women about the story and about the story I was going to tell. Everyone said they would like to hear the story, even James, who generally did not pay much attention to my stories. The children agreed to wake me after a short nap. I woke without assistance and waiting when the children came to tell me everyone was ready. We joined them at a large round table in the, now empty, dinning car.
"Let me begin by reminding everyone about the oldest family tradition, the naming of our children. The first girl is named Jane and the first boy James, with the boys being called Jim, James, and Jimmy in that rotation for all succeeding generations. No child has ever had exactly the same full name as any proceeding generation.
Well, J.C.Smith was called Jimmy and he didn't like the name. He didn't like his middle name, Carlton, either, so he signed his name J.C. Smith. Eventually, people began calling him JC and so did he. JC added more traditions than any other member. He started the tradition of supporting orphanages and passing the pet rock and its story to his grandson, plus some others you will recognize as I tell his story."
As a young man JC was a drifter. After college, he worked in the family business for a while. He tried all the jobs in the business, from bookkeeper to janitor, but he soon became restless and left Chicago. He took any job he could find. When he had enough money, he moved to another town. Each move took him further west.
While riding a train, he heard a story about the ride of a headless horseman. The story piqued his interest, so much so that he decided to check it out himself. He had more money than usual and instead of stopping at the next town he continued on until he reached a town where he could board a stagecoach that would take him to the town where the story was supposed to have taken place. The name of the town meant 'Nowhere' in Spanish.
The journey to Nowhere was much farther than he thought and to pass the time, he asked people to tell him the story if they knew it. Each story was a little different. Instead of discouraging JC, it only increased his interest and his fear that no one would be alive who had witness parts of the story.
After traveling all day without seeing a living thing, not even a hawk, it was very apparent, why the village had its name. They spent the night at a stagecoach company way station in a mining village north of Nowhere. At dinner JC asked, "Why did we stop so early, we still have four hours of daylight?" The station master answered, "The next well is in Nowhere and we will not reach it until after dark tomorrow."
"A very good reason," JC thought to himself. The station master continued, "Nowhere is on a large low rise in the middle of the third step of the Devil's Stair Case, about a mile from the next step. No one knows how many steps because no one has ever reached the four step and from any place below only the mountains can be seen beyond the fourth step.
The first three steps form a tongue, with the fourth step at its base, about five miles across about ten miles from the tip to the fourth step. The first two steps are well defined at the tip, but near the fourth step they merge into one steep incline on both sides of the tongue. The first three steps are fifty feet high at the tip.
The fourth step is only thirty feet above the third step, but it forms an escarpment one hundred eighty feet high for five miles north and south of the tongue before it merges into the mountain range.
The steps are nearly level, fairly smooth, and treeless. They slope gently from their edges toward the center and from the tip to the fourth step. The first two are about thirty yards wide at the tip, but narrow until they become one leg of the switch backs on the steep inclines and disappear at the dry river beds.
Near the fourth step, the first step is wide enough for a railroad, but the second is barely wide enough for a wagon. The grade is so steep to reach the first step that an engine can only pull two cars at a time. Only ore trains from and supply trains to the mines use this track.
West of Nowhere is the north entrance to a canyon in the fourth step. The canyon twists and turns in a giant loop for about thirty miles to its southern entrance just north of the south rim of the tongue. Two large box canyons and several small ones are along its course. The floor of the canyon is a dry river bed.
The south entrance is very steep for the first half mile, but from there the dry river bed slopes gently all the way to the north entrance. The dry river flows from both entrances down the steep inclines on each side of the tongue next to the escarpment. They follow the base of the first step to the east and meet at the tip where a series of springs form a creek flowing to the east. As the creek grows into a river the fertility of the land changes with the size of the creek. The river makes a giant curve to the south east and forms a large valley with many farms and small villages." JC thanked him for the unasked information and went to bed.
The stage coach left the mining village with the first rays of sunlight. The stage coach trail didn't have a straight stretch in it, if they weren't curving around a hill, they were going over one. The coach stopped at the incline in late afternoon. JC soon found out why. The switch backs were short and steep and everyone walked in front of the coach.
Only then did JC notice that mules were pulling the coach and not horses. He didn't notice the long, hot, and dusty climb, checking the station master's description occupied his thoughts. A cool breeze greeted them at the top. JC looked down, "Isn't that an odd place for a cemetery?"
"The bed rock is only a foot below the surface, so the people of Nowhere use the closest suitable spot," answered the driver. When the mules were rested, they continued.
The station master was right, it was dark when they reached Nowhere, the twilight ended quickly when the sun set behind the mountains. The inn keeper gave JC the best room, after he said, "I'm staying for the summer."
JC went for an early morning walk and saw the coach off. He enjoyed watching the village wake up. After the coach left, JC inspected a partially salvaged house and observed a home being repaired.
"So that's how they build them." Ten inch tiers of flat rock were stacked in two rows next to each other. The next layer of flat rock held one edge of a clay strip, the rest hung down the outside of each row. Where the strips met, wet hands worked the bottom edge until it joined with the clay strip below. The strips were a half inch thick and a foot long, with the width varying according to the clay layer used.
The roof logs were laid from one wall to the other. Clay shingles were overlapped on the top of the logs after scraps of clay leveled the surface. The very little top soil was easily removed exposing a very dense clay layer underneath which made an excellent floor.
Nowhere consisted of a mission, an inn, a carpenters shop, a general store, a livery, twenty homes, many empty houses, and between the mission and the inn, a well. The buildings did not have any particular orientation except for the inn and the livery, they faced each other on opposite sides of the stage coach trail. All were small, built of stacked rocks and clay, with a lot of space around each one, because each builder used the rocks nearby, making the village very sprawling.
Behind the livery, several stables contained mules with a manure pile and a compost pile in back of them. All organic refuse from the village was composted and spread on the grazing fields. The livery had three horses and many empty stalls. Farming was a communal affair and their mules were house at the stables long with those of the stage coach company.
Only four families had children, the inn keeper, the store keeper, the carpenter, and the livery owner. The others were older and their children had left. As with all villages, it had dogs, cats, and chickens. If JC had any doubts about the local economy, they were soon dispelled. Everyone worked from sunrise to sunset. When each finished the work they had to do for that day they joined the others drawing water and hauling it to irrigate the fields. The physically able did the heavy work, the others led the mule drawn wagons to the fields and drained the barrels into the irrigation ditches. Many of these people would have only one meal a day by spring time. They had to sell what little food they had left to buy fire wood to keep from freezing. This village was extremely poor.
After his morning walk, JC was in a mood to barter for his room and board. When he approached the inn keeper, JC could not barter, the price was so low, he was ashamed to agree to it. With a poker face, "I'll pay in advance if you put a rocking chair on the porch for me," and left to barter with the livery owner. Again he couldn't, he paid for the summer. He returned to the inn, a rocking chair with a padded back and seat was on the porch, he paid the inn keeper. JC was in a very jovial mood, he still had half of his money.
He sat in the rocking chair planning his next move. A waste of time because his routine evolved without much thought or effort. He rode around the countryside each morning, helped the people with odd chores during the afternoon, and sat on the porch after dinner. Meals were supposed to be served at a precise time, but after two weeks, he was considered a very special guest and a member of the family, he could eat at anytime.
The inn keeper's wife was so happy to have an easy to please and helpful guest that she did almost anything for him. He ate anything she served and he did not care if his shirts were ironed or not. He helped with the kitchen chores and the laundry, he drew and carried water.
JC was in no hurry to do anything, he didn't even introduce himself to the people, he didn't have to, eventually everyone introduced themselves to him. They wanted to meet a person who was crazy enough to stay in Nowhere for a summer.
JC didn't talk very much, he listened. The villagers told him any and everything that came to mind, they were happy to have someone who would listen to them. Most told the story of their life or of other people they knew. In a short time he was a friend to everyone in the village and knew everything about everyone who lived in the village back to the time of the headless horseman.
The people soon learned that his main interest was the story of the headless horseman and they told him what they knew. More chairs were put on the porch as more people gathered each night to hear the others contribution.
The old priest and the grandmother of the livery owner knew the most and they became regular evening story tellers. Their stories confirmed earlier ones. After a new story, JC tried to find the location of where it occurred to see if he could find anything that would support or deny the story. He found many artifacts, facilities, and features to support the stories or at least allowed the stories to be plausible, he didn't find anything to invalidate the stories.
The mission was involved in the stories the priest told, so JC helped repair the mission during the afternoon, he could check anything without appearing to be nosy. The priest retired many years ago, but he decided to stay when he learned he would not be replaced. He could not leave his people whom he had known for so long without a priest. He was completely dependent upon the villagers for everything, he did not receive any outside support, he was truly as poor as a church mouse.
The bell tower was involved somehow, but no one knew exactly how. JC offered to replace the old wooden ladder and the bell rope, so the bell could ring again. He waited almost a month to get the lumber. The carpenter sent an order with the stage coach driver, it came once a week, the lumber was delivered by a freight wagon from the mines after they had enough orders to justify a trip, and the wagon took corn, beans, oats, wheat, eggs, chickens, and mutton back to the miners.
The carpenter helped JC, it really was the other way around. When JC told him what he wanted to do with the lumber, he offered his assistance.
When the lumber arrived, they loaded the lumber on to a small wagon and delivered it to the mission. The carpenter looked at the bell tower several times, "I should've looked at it when you asked me to order the lumber. The original builders must have built the tower around the ladder. I think a narrow spiral stair case would be safer. I'm sure I have enough lumber at the shop along with what you have purchased to do the job." JC agreed.
When they were done, the people were pleased to hear the mission bell call them to church again and JC was glad they built the staircase. He liked the view from the bell tower and he felt much safer going up and down the staircase.
He went there often, when he was tired of everything else, when he wanted to be alone, or when he wanted to review what he had learned about the story. His thoughts seemed to come much easier, up there.
JC was sure the bell tower was not built like other mission bell towers. The walls were very thick and stones were placed on the inside edge, they could not be seen from below. "Why would anyone place stones at the top of a bell tower."
He thought about it every time he was up there. It puzzled him, many things puzzled him. He wondered why the people were hauling water to the fields, there had to be an easier way. It puzzled him that they had not found an easier method, but he could not think of one, either.
As he looked over the village, it was easy to understand why it was built here and why the buildings did not have any particular orientation, the gentle slope of the rise kept the water out of their homes when it rained, the doors were on the down hill side.
JC looked at the fields. A stacked rock fence three feet high ran north and south from one edge to the other. The fields were east of the wall, the village, the trail, and unused land were west of it. Another wall ran, perpendicular to it at the center, all the way to the tip of the step. North of it sheep grazed, south of it, crops were growing, only a fraction of the land was in production. Several wooden gates provided access to the fields. The flat stones were stacked so carefully that a person could run on top of the wall and not move the stones. Ancient people had lived and farmed this land.
The grandmother told stories involving both inclines, the railroad, and the base of the first step. JC explored them and the area around the base of the tongue, the station master was very accurate. The spring snow melt carved a series of falls and rapids in the dry river bed down both inclines, with many ledges and dry pools. Some switch backs on both inclines curved very close to the dry river beds.
The base of each step contained many shallow caves. Above the caves, the walls were solid and steep. The only loose rock was at the tip of the tongue, where a vertical vein of cracked rock, about ten feet wide, ran from the top to the bottom.
A thick horizontal layer of dense clay cut through the vein at the base of each step Only when a piece of clay from one layer was placed next to one from another was a difference in color noticeable.
The springs came out of the base of the first step where the vein and the clay met, just beneath the surface of a small pool. Rock falling from the vein created many narrow ledges and formed a notch in the tip of the tongue. A low, stacked rock and clay retaining wall prevented falling rock from rolling on to the tracks.
JC tested one story by lowering himself from the top of the third step to the railroad tracks, he was amazed how easy it was. With only a short piece of rope and a small fire place log, split in half, he went down in less than an hour.
He tied a loop at the center of the log, wedged the log, flat side down, into a horizontal crack in the rock or placed in on a ledge so rope hung through a vertical crack in the rock. Using the loop for one hand and the ledges for his feet, he moved up or down without much more effort than climbing a ladder. The loop provided a firm hand hold when his fingers might have slipped from the rock.
When he reached the tracks he checked the retaining wall again, it was trying to tell him something, he could feel it. He checked for cracks, none. He checked for changes in color, none. He picked up a loose railroad spike and removed the rock and sand from one end of the wall, down to the dense clay layer.
"That's odd, the clay on the wall is not the same color as the layer. Why would the builders import clay to make the wall when there was plenty of clay all around the edge of the step?"
He solved one puzzle only to find another. He pushed the sand and rock back into the hole with his feet and returned to the top. As the story came together, it was obvious that someone had reached the top of the fourth step. Instead of searching the tongue any longer, he turned his attention to the canyon.

Return to Headless Table of content

L04V03 The Canyon

JC made a few short trips into the canyon just to get the feel of it. For the first mile, the canyon was wide, fairly straight, and with a very gentle slope. The floor consisted of very large flat, water smoothed, rocks with three to four inch wide water carved cracks between them.
When JC reached the first fork in the canyon, he thought he was lost. One leg was the wide entrance to a small box canyon. The canyon continued down the other leg, but it was very narrow and turned very sharply, so it appeared to be a dead end. In the middle of the fork stood a large chimney rock. The strata on all the walls and the chimney were exactly the same. As he rode around the chimney, he could not tell where he had been or where he was going. A hint of panic over took him, until he remembered the position of the sun. JC never lost his bearings again.
That episode convinced him to draw a map of the canyon. With each trip into the canyon he traveled farther and faster than the time before. With the map, he could estimate how far he could explore each day and what and how many provisions to take on each trip. The more he explored the canyon, the more it fascinated him. The midday heat in the canyon did not deter him, he spent the rest of the summer exploring it. If anyone lived in the canyon and traveled frequently outside, their camp had to be close to the entrance, otherwise, travel time would be prohibitive.
Having come to that conclusion, he traveled the full length of the canyon only once, to check his map and to look for water. He did not find anything else of interest and the canyon was bone dry. A camp had to have water and because water was so important, he was convinced that if he found water, he would find the camp.
He used a narrow piece of fire wood to probe the cracks in the canyon floor. He was elated when the end came out wet, but then he could not tell when he found water again. He used pieces of cloth, wool, and corn cobs tied to the end of the stick, but the irregular walls of the cracks removed them. He was continually amazed how easy the stick slid down into the cracks and how equally easy it became stuck.
Using a stick was to slow, he had to find another way. "If I could only see down into the cracks. I could if I had a light. Why not reflect sun light into the cracks?" He struck pay dirt, about every twenty feet the light colored rock would turn very dark. When he tested with his stick the end would be wet. The water trail ended near a short chimney rock in the small box canyon.
The base of both walls had shallow caves, one right after another for more than a mile in both directions. He inspected the walls very carefully for water or an opening. After a week, he found nothing but dry rock and caves.
One of the caves must be a tunnel, but which one, they looked alike. They had the same color, the same strata, and the same stone. He couldn't see a single difference except for size, some were tall and narrow, others were low and wide, and others had a different configuration. Entering a cave was like entering a jack-o-lantern, the inside was much larger than the entrance and the walls and ceiling curved like the inside of a pumpkin.
JC stopped exploring the canyon, he had to think of a way to eliminate searching all the caves, it would take to long. He spent more at the top of the bell tower, hoping to get an inspiration. One day while up in the tower, he watched a lone horseman ride into Nowhere. He watched him for a long time, but he didn't get an idea until he rode into the livery.
"If anyone was to travel quickly in and out of the canyon they would do it on horseback. Why were solutions so easy in hindsight?"
The next morning he rode into the small box canyon and into each cave that would accommodate him. Before lunch he was looking over the third step from the eastern most part of the fourth step.
When the cave continued, he knew he had found a way to the fourth step. He was so excited, he was oblivious to his surroundings. When he reached the top, he rode directly to the tip of the step, he couldn't believe it. He was so ecstatic, he just sat there and took in the view.
He sat for more than an hour before his excitement subsided, "My gosh, I'm sitting on a stone bench," he stood and looked around, "And the back rest is a stone shelter." Inside he found a telescope in a protective case. The case was badly deteriorated, but the telescope was in good shape. Obviously, this was an observation post.
He returned to the bench. The wall in front of the bench was carefully stacked to preserve maximum visibility. The ridges and cuts in the edge of the step were continued back and up until the wall was three feet high, forming a modified saw tooth rampart, the top of each tooth was flat. A person could sit on the bench and observe the entire third step and the entrance to the canyon through different vee's in the rampart without being seen.
A group of stones, similar to the ones at the top of the bell tower were on the roof of the stone shelter. With the telescope JC could easily see Nowhere and when he brought the bell tower into focus, he knew the purpose of the stones. Each stone was a different size and a different shape, they were signals.
He surveyed this portion of the fourth step. His eyes followed the canyon to the box canyon to the top of the path, about a mile north, to the eastern edge of the step. The fourth step sloped steeply away from its eastern edge for a short distance and then more gently until it was nearly level, the eastern edge was five feet higher than the rest of the step.
Beyond the path was the fifth step, three feet high, a tongue, like the third step only much smaller. From its tip to the next step, it rose very gently for more than a mile. The sixth step, ten feet high, was also a tongue, but not as curved. The camp was at the base of the sixth step almost in the center of the step.
JC could not see any more steps because the sixth step was covered with trees and behind the trees were the mountains. He scanned the sixth step with the telescope to the east until it disappeared at the edge of the fourth step escarpment, so did the fifth step, and so did the mountains. He followed the sixth step to west until it disappeared again, so did the fifth step, at the rim of the canyon, he would find out for sure another time. To the south, the canyon cut an island out of the fourth step, higher than the rest of the step and blocked his view, but he could see the mountains. He followed the giant horseshoe shaped mountain range from the south to the west to the north, enclosing the entire upper steps and the canyon.
As he continued to look over the steps, it slowly sank into his brain that something was different. Then it came to him, the fifth step was green. Quickly he scanned the entire fifth step again. The box canyon cut a large hole in the fourth step and east of the hole, the fifth step was green. About twenty feet from each edge, the rock gave way to grass. He started at one end of the sixth step and scanned all the way across and back.
He didn't see the small water fall the first time, but he did the second, at the east end of the camp. He could not follow the stream across the fifth step because the grass was to high. At the tip of the fifth step, a tiny stream was barely visible. He mounted and rode to the tip of the fifth step. The stream fell into an irregular triangular shaped opening of a water carved rock cistern. The water flowed out of the cistern through a channel about four inches wide and about six feet down. The channel followed the base of the fifth step and then meandered to the west side of the path, where it disappeared into the rock. Water flowed gently over the fifth step at many places before the channel turned toward the path.
He rode back to the tip of the fifth step and followed the tiny stream to the camp. A clay tile channeled water from the small stream above the falls into a clay horse trough at the side of the stable. The water flowed out of the trough through a hole in its wall and down another clay tile back to the stream. He let his horse drink.
He explored the camp very thoroughly, the buildings were made of stacked rock and clay, with clay tile on the roof. One room was the armory, it contained molds to make bullets, among other things.
A ladle still had lead in it. JC bumped it and tipped it over. The wind must have blown sand on the flat surface before the lead cooled and over the years the ladle rusted and gave the other side a dark red color.
At first glance it looked like a rock, sand stone on one side and iron ore on the other. This oddly colored, half egg shaped piece of lead appealed to him and he put it in his pocket. The only other item he took was the telescope. He carried both everywhere he went.
He noticed the length of the shadows and decided to leave. He looked carefully at the terrain on the way back. The small stream divided and joined many times. One large branch ended in a rock cistern at the edge of the grass near the short chimney rock in the box canyon.
He looked even more carefully at the cave. When he was in the box canyon, he looked back at the cave and could not tell which cave was the tunnel. He had to ride back to make sure. He dismounted and walked to the center of the box canyon and looked back at the cave. He couldn't see anything to identify the cave, everything was similar.
The tunnel made two sharp turns before it became a steep serpentine path. The one side wall of the cave curved to become the far wall of the tunnel. The back wall of the cave was the near wall of the tunnel. The strata of the two walls matched so closely that in the shadows of the cave all depth perception was lost. JC could not tell that nearly eight feet separated the two walls, the far wall of the tunnel blended into the back wall of the cave. When he move to either side of the cave, the curving side walls of the cave blocked any view of the tunnel entrance.
There had to be some way to find the entrance cave easily without betraying it to others. He looked for land marks in the box canyon, nothing stood out. He looked at the rim, no help there either. He placed his rock directly in front of the cave, walked back to his horse, rode out of the canyon, and rode back in.
The first time, he looked at the back wall of the canyon, it never changed. When he reached his rock, he repeated the procedure, three more times. Each time he looked at a different part of the rim. Several chimney rocks were near the back wall, their tops below the rim, but above the short chimney rock, as he rode in the angles to the tops of the chimneys changed; therefore the short chimney appeared to grow in height faster than the chimneys near the back wall.
When he reached his rock, all the chimneys appeared to be the same height, with their tops silhouetted against the sky. He would be able to locate the tunnel in very dim light, maybe even at night. He picked up his rock and rode back to Nowhere a very satisfied man.
He could not believe his good luck, not only did he find a path to the top of the fourth step, he also found a camp that could accommodate fifteen people. He didn't tell anyone, but a few noticed the telescope and the rock and soon everyone knew about them. No one asked JC, but he knew they knew.
Each time he left the cave, he looked back to see if his comings and goings left a trail. As with its earlier occupants, the rock floor kept his secret. He returned to his routine of riding in the morning, helping in the afternoon, and listening to stories after dinner. He explored the camp on his morning rides. He rode leisurely to the camp, explored some part, and rode leisurely back to Nowhere in time for lunch. The trips became so routine, he didn't need to guide his horse, it knew where to go. It took him to the middle of the box canyon and stopped. This gave JC a lot of time to think.
One thought kept returning ever since he saw the green grass and water on the fourth step, "How could he put it to use." He thought about it long and often. He had considered raising sheep, cattle, horses, and crops. Because the access was very limited, everything would have to be transport on horseback. The only sensible way to use the fourth step was to raise horses.
Take them to the fourth step after the spring melt and return before the winter snows filled the path to the tunnel. Even if the snow melted every day, the path would fill with snow and it would be the last place to melt.
The camp was pretty much as he expected, ignoring the effects of weather and time. The living quarters were neat and tidy as if the occupants had left for a vacation and the work areas looked as if they had left on a moments notice, they put down what ever they were doing and left. He didn't find any money, jewelry, gold, or silver. According to the stories there should be some gold, somewhere. He looked every where without success.
In late August, he changed his routine, the story was nearly complete, all he needed was to find the southern camp. He left at sunrise and returned at dusk. The people didn't ask where he was going, they knew, they just didn't know what he did when he got there or what he found. They waited patiently for him to make a comment, but none was forth coming.
He followed the water procedure at the southern entrance without success and when he reached the top of the divide in the canyon, he couldn't use it anyway. The canyon floor changed from large flat rocks to an alternating surface of gravel or clay and the walls contained fewer caves.
He was positive the entrance to the southern camp was in the section with the rock floor, otherwise a trail would be detectable. Since he couldn't find the entrance by looking at the walls or the floor, he looked at the rim. He looked at each rim while riding in both directions until his neck was stiff. He rode out of the canyon and stopped at the top of the steep incline. He didn't have anything else to do, so out of frustration, he rode to the bottom. On the slow ride back, he let his horse go at its own speed, he tried to figure out what he had done wrong and what he could do differently.
When he said the word 'wrong' to himself, he knew. He assumed like everyone else that the entrance to the southern camp was in the canyon. Now he knew where to look. People going down the incline would be at the wrong angle to see the entrance. The people going up, would be tired as they approached the top and would be looking down at the road and would not see it; therefore it had to be near the top of the incline.
By the time he was three quarters of the way up he had a plan. When the switch back turned next to the dry river bed, he checked to see if it was rock, sand, or gravel, if rock he looked at the base of the fourth step, at the wall up to the height of a horseman, and at the rim straight above and then all the way to the top.
The stream bed turned from rock to sand or gravel and back to rock at every other switch back. When he reached the second switch back from the top, he thought he had missed it. He stopped his horse and looked in both directions along the rim, nothing, he looked at the wall, just ripples that hung like curtains. He looked at the stream bed, it was rather steep in this section, but large flat level rocks ran at an angle down to the wall, a horse could walk across them easily.
He couldn't see an entrance, but this had to be it, he made his horse walk across and down the rocks. The last large rock took him around the end of what appeared to be a ripple in the wall. It was not a ripple, it was the outer wall of a very narrow canyon. Just like the cave, the back and front walls matched so well they appeared to be one wall.
He turned in a tight circle to the right, then to the left, and then to the right. The narrow canyon ran north behind the face of the fourth step. The path was steep, well worn, and just wide enough for a horse. He estimated that he was even with the third step when the canyon curved sharply to the left and widened as it curved gently to the south. Until then it would have difficult to turn around. Two chimney rocks stood on the top of a small rise and over the rise, the canyon became a small valley. The camp was near a small pool at the base of the west wall.
Water seeped from the wall at several places above the pool and flowed gently down. The pool was the beginning of a small stream that flowed down the valley next to the west wall. Trees lined the east bank and grass covered the rest of the valley. Shadows were climbing the east wall, he called it a day and rode back to Nowhere.
He returned the next day and rode down the valley next to the stream. The west wall didn't change, but the east wall gave way to low steep hills, to high gentle hills, and then the progression reversed. At the southern end of the valley, the canyon walls nearly converged, less than a foot apart, except at the very bottom, where the stream under cut the stone. The valley was three miles long and a mile and a half at its widest point.
He rode over the gentle hills, to find more gentle hills rising still higher. He continued until he could see the rim of the fourth step. The hills met the step at a shear ten foot wall; however, he did find one place where a horse could climb to the fourth step.
The fourth step was covered with loose gravel and small flat rocks. Twenty feet from the edge, the gravel gave way to a foot of clay, followed by stone to the edge. The clay was very dense and varied in thickness, from six inches to a foot. He had not noticed this before and wondered if all the steps were this way. He was not as excited as when he made his first discovery, he was paying attention to his surroundings, this time.
He followed the east canyon wall north until he was looking down at the steep incline. He used the telescope to look over the third step, the valley to the east, and the hills below the tongue to the south. Again it was a magnificent view, but he didn't spend time looking, he turned and followed the canyon wall back.
The entrance was very narrow at the bottom, but it was to wide to cross at the top, he didn't give it a second thought. He rode to the southern end of the valley. Where the canyon walls met, a horse could jump across in several places and further south the canyon disappeared.
He surveyed the rest of the step with the telescope. To the southeast, the fourth step met the mountains and the end of the fourth step escarpment, about a mile away. To the south, the fifth step began with the mountains behind it. To the southwest, the fifth step curved to the east and the tree covered sixth step began, with the mountains behind the trees. To the west, both steps stopped at the main canyon. To the north, he could see the mountains, but again the island the canyon cut out of the fourth step blocked his view of the rest of the step and the box canyon camp. He followed the giant horseshoe mountain range from north to south. He had seen enough and returned to the camp. He tethered his horse next to the stream and removed the riding gear.
This camp, also, met his expectations. Compared to the box canyon camp, this one was a pigs sty. It didn't have any buildings, only hovels. Refuse was scattered everywhere. He inspected the hovels and cleaned out the best one and stored anything of use in it. He didn't find very much and even less in good condition. If it had not been protected from the weather, it was generally of no use. He found some gold coins, a few pieces of jewelry, and a small clay jar filled with gold dust.
At both camps, he found some food, stored in tins or clay jars; some cotton goods, of no use; a dozen rifles and pistols, beyond repair; and a few hand tools, in good shape. Leather goods were mildewed or dried and cracked so badly they were of no use. He didn't find any animals or wool goods in either camp. He took the coins, jewelry, and gold, readied his horse, took one last look around, and left.
He knew he had to tell the people something. He had heard their stories, he knew what to tell them so rumors would not draw fortune hunters to the area. Even today, people walking ahead of the mules coming up the south incline, found bandit booty. He would tell them he found these items on a ledge under the first switch back. If anyone decided to check, they would not stumble on to the entryway because they would not be far enough down the incline.
He knew what he was going to do with the next five or ten years of his life and he was going to put his plan into action that night. He reached Nowhere, well after sunset, and stopped at the inn first. The whole village was waiting for him, he had never returned this late without telling someone he would be late. He didn't have to say anything, one of the boys took care of his horse and returned as fast as he could.
JC told them his planned story. The innkeeper, the carpenter, the storekeeper, and the livery owner looked at one another and shook their heads, but that was the story they heard and that was the story they repeated. Most of the men understood and were willing to do what he wanted, the others followed.
The storekeeper could sell almost anything without arousing curiosity and offered his services. JC was aware of this, but was glad he didn't have to ask. The storekeeper's offer was very convenient, it allowed him to put his plan into motion very smoothly. "Would you trade these items for kerosene lamps and kerosene for the winter. If any money is left, buy firewood and distribute it to those in need." The people murmured, they wanted to have a celebration.
"Wait. I'm leaving on the next stage coach." They groaned. "Would you do something for me?"
He knew they would before he asked. "Meet me here tomorrow afternoon and I will tell you my version of the story and then we can celebrate." They cheered. "I'll return in the spring and make Nowhere my home." A louder cheer. "I'm tired, I'll see you tomorrow afternoon," and left them buzzing.
In the morning, he rode to the box canyon camp to search one more time for gold and to check the edge of the upper steps. He rode to where the fifth step met the canyon. Unlike the south fourth step, the rock changed to gravel twenty feet from the edge. He kicked the gravel and uncovered the clay. On the fifth step he dug at the edge of the grass with his knife to find it. It was less than an inch thick and it was soft, it was not as dense as the clay from the other steps. He rode to the sixth step and it was the same way. He rode quickly to the camp and searched everywhere that he had not looked before, but he didn't find any gold. He rode back to Nowhere in time for lunch.

Return to Headless Table of content

L04V04 The Box Canyon Camp

Ron and Paul were playmates since they were able to crawl. They were inseparable, from dawn to dusk and sometimes after dusk. As they grew older, their horizons grew. By age eight, they made their first excursions into the canyon. Every chance they could, they went to the canyon.
By twelve, reaching the fourth step was an obsession. They ran to the canyon, so they would have more daylight time in the canyon. They disciplined themselves to be home at sunset, sometimes they ran home to make sure they were. They didn't want their parents to say, "You can't go to the canyon."
Because of their obsession, they paid attention, they learned fast, and they did their assigned chores as fast as possible. They did what ever they could to spend more time in the canyon. By fourteen, they explored every cave to the first fork. They began with the left wall, exploring each cave and the floor and the wall adjacent to it. When they finished they left a small turquoise stone in the entrance and explored the next cave.
By their sixteenth birthday, they moved the turquoise stone to the short chimney rock, having explored two thirds of the small box canyon. Adjacent to the chimney, the wall was cracked. It was the only place where they found hand and foot holds in the canyon wall. Between the chimney and the wall was a saddle of lose rock. Next to the wall, it was nearly ten feet high. Paul was determined to climb to the top, with only twenty feet to go, he would not give up.
"How would you get back down?" asked Ron, "We don't have a rope." They argued, neither gave in to the other. Ron didn't help Paul because each time they stood next to each other, the loose rock gave way and they slid a short distance down the pile. Ron explored the caves, while Paul explored the wall. Paul found a place where he could climb the wall, but overtime the rock gave way and he fell a short distance.
A few days later, Ron moved the turquoise stone to another cave and went to see what Paul was doing. He wasn't on the canyon floor or on the rock pile. Ron looked up the canyon wall, he didn't see him at first because Paul was in a ripple in the canyon wall, near the top.
Ron didn't make a sound. He didn't want to do anything to startle Paul. He knew what was going to happen and could do nothing but watch and wait. Sweat rolled down his face, his stomach cramped, he felt awful.
Then it began. Paul tried to get a new hand hold and the rock gave way. Quickly, he discarded the loose rock and tried to get another hold, only to have the rock break again. His motion became frantic. Then in quick succession, one foot hold broke, followed by the other hand hold. For an instant he balanced on one foot, but only for an instant. His body fell away from the wall. Desperately, he grabbed at the rock, only to push himself further from the wall.
He did a half twist in the air, trying to land feet first with his back to the wall so he would slide down the rock pile on his feet and buttocks. He nearly made it. He hit buttocks first, followed by his feet and head. The rock gave way on impact and he slid down the pile.
Ron ran towards him before he landed. Paul was motionless, blood oozing from scrapes, when Ron put his ear to Paul's chest. Ron could barely hear Paul's heart beat above a loud rasping sound, "Paul is hurt, bad."
Ron couldn't think straight, he didn't know what to do. He didn't want Paul to regain consciousness and find himself alone. Finally, he decided to stay with Paul was not the best course of action. He ran all the way to the well, a mule and a wagon would be there. He leaped on a waiting wagon, threw the water barrels off, and yelled, "Paul fell from the canyon wall." He jumped down and ran, leading the mule.
As he passed the general store, the storekeeper ran out and took the mule, "Git in the wagon." A little further, the livery man rode up and took the mule. The storekeeper climbed into the wagon and they went as fast as the mule would go.
Paul was still motionless when they arrived. One of the men checked his arms and legs, no broken bones as far as he could tell. They lift Paul into the wagon. The livery man looked at the pile where Paul landed, at the wall, and back at the pile, "He didn't lose very much blood, that's some help."
They took turns walking the mule back to Nowhere. Ron told the men how he had watched Paul. As they left the canyon, Paul's father joined them. Soon, more people followed the wagon. By the time they reached Nowhere, the whole village was walking beside or behind the wagon. The story was told over and over. They went to the well and washed Paul, wrapped him in blankets, and put him to bed. The old women took care of him, everyone else returned to the fields.
Ron would visit Paul every morning and evening. During a visit, Paul said, "I can't move my left leg." They stared at each other. After a moment, Ron said, "Maybe it will move if you wait some more," it was a long wait. When he tried to stand, he fell. He could lay flat and sit straight, but he could not stand or walk without bending over.
The carpenter made him a crutch, he could walk, but very slowly. Ron made him try every day. Paul never quit, he still wanted to reach the fourth step, but no matter how hard he tried, he didn't improve.
He sat to work and moved by raising his body on extended arms and rocking his body in the direction he wanted to go. He couldn't work in the fields, so he tended the mission garden and did light work around the mission, tasks he would do for the rest of his life. A few weeks later he moved to the mission.
This was not the only fateful event. When the boys were ten, prospectors found gold north of the escarpment. Slowly, the village population grew as miners and related workers moved to the village. The livery and the general store were built plus stables to house the mules for the ore and freight wagons.
The miners left their families in Nowhere and camped at the mines, and returned to Nowhere on their days off. Their wives and children worked in the fields. With so many people to work the fields, the boys had more free time to explore the canyon. The mining families left Nowhere, when a well was completed near the mines, they built a new village around the well.
The stage coach went to the mines once a week and used Nowhere as a way station. Travel time across the step was much less than going around the end of the tongue. The inn was built after stage coach travel was routine. Then a construction crew built a railroad around the end of the tongue. They moved into the houses vacated by the miners.
When the railroad was finished the construction workers left. Freight was shipped to the mines by rail and hauled to Nowhere by wagon. The mule skinners left as the railroad took their work and the mules and the stable workers followed. Some of the new families stayed and became farmers, they were to poor to move.
The next fateful event took everyone by surprise. The stage coach stopped at the top of the south incline as usual when bandits appeared out of thin air, robbed them, and disappeared as fast as they came.
The bandits were stupid, mean, and cruel and quickly became hated intruders. They harassed the people and took what ever they wanted. Their leader, Ben, was smart enough to realize he needed the villagers, he needed food and supplies. Soon, he put strict limits on what the bandits could do and take.
If any bandit disobeyed his orders, he shot them on the spot. He had a curious way of doing it. He went to the offender, put his arm around him, "You've been a bad boy, haven't you? Have a cigar while we talk." While the man smoked the cigar, Ben explained in great detail what he had done wrong and why he should not break his rules. When the man finished the cigar, Ben ended his chatter with, "You will never do that again will you?", and before the man could answer, Ben shot him.
The bandits could enter the livery, the general store, and the inn, but they had to pay. If a villager was inside a house or working anywhere outside, the bandits dare not bother them. They were free to do what they wanted, to anyone they found playing or loitering in the streets, so long as they didn't disable them.
They raped any woman or young girl walking in the streets, right out in the open, if they could catch them. If anyone tried to stop them, they were stabbed to death, except for the priest. Several men died trying to protect their wives and daughters.
Ron's mother and father were killed trying to protect his sister. Ron didn't grieve, he would not talk to anyone, except Paul. Ron moved in with Paul, his brothers and sisters were adopted by other families. Ron transformed his grief into a bitter hatred of the bandits. He vowed revenge. He knew he had to wait, he was a long way from being able to challenge the bandits, but he knew his time would come.
The bandits rarely bothered Ron or Paul because they never went near the mission, it was as if they would catch the plague. They would not let the priest get closer than twenty feet. If he moved towards them, they moved away or went to the side and around him.
Ron discussed his plans with Paul every night. Paul wanted to take part, but he knew he was limited. Paul helped refine the plan. Finding a way to the top of the fourth step was an integral part of the plan. They talked with the other boys and learned who wanted to join them.
The villagers had a slight advantage over the bandits. Although the bandits were strong, they were fat and slow, and except for the old and the very young, all the others could out run any of the bandits. When anyone first saw the bandits, they yelled 'Bandit' and everyone ran to the nearest house or the mission. When Paul heard 'Bandit' he rang the mission bell.
Slowly, a warning procedure evolved, Paul went to the top of the bell tower at sunrise and on the hour till sunset. If he saw any sign of the bandits, he rang the bell three times, if not he rang it once.
Going up and down the ladder was very difficult for Paul. Ron tied a large rope to a log laid across the bell tower walls. Paul leaned his crutch in the corner and pulled himself hand over hand to the top. If he needed to rest, he looped the rope over the foot of his bad leg and under the foot of his good leg forming a foot hold in the rope. Within a month he could pull himself to the top of the bell tower faster than anyone could climb the ladder. He was in good physical condition before he fell, now his upper body strength was enormous.
One bandit learned about his strength the hard way. Paul was returning to the mission after delivering a message, the bandit rode sideways into him, pushing him off balance. Paul anticipated the bandit's form of fun and before he fell he let go of his crutch, grabbed the bandit's foot, and threw him out of his saddle.
The bandit added to his mistake by kicking at Paul. Paul grabbed his foot, pulled and twisted. When the bandit landed on Paul, he wrapped both arms around the bandit and squeezed. The bandit yelled, "You're breaking my ribs. I can't breath," and pulled a knife.
Paul let go with one arm, grabbed the hand with the knife, and squeezed. Paul nearly broke the bandit's hand. When Paul released his grip, the knife slid from the bandit's lifeless hand. Again he wrapped both arms around the bandit and squeezed. He would have killed the bandit except Ben and two others rode up and watched the whole episode with pleasure. They pulled Paul's arms from the bandit before he passed out. Ben said, "That'll teach you to pick on a cripple. Leave him alone."
The bandits soon tired of going to Nowhere only to find all the villagers indoors or working. They only came for supplies and the village settled into a routine.
Paul urged Ron to return to the canyon, he wanted someone to reach the top of the fourth step. Ron didn't want to go because so many people had left Nowhere, everyone was needed in the fields to insure enough food for winter. Paul continued until Ron agreed to go one day a week. He waited until Paul rang the all clear bell at dawn and left.
Ben understood that he couldn't hold up the stage coach or the train very often or they would stop their service. He restrained himself to once or twice a year, he waited until his informants told him something of value was being shipped.
He raided the mining village once, he would never do it again, they had sentries posted, were well armed, and could shoot. During the raid five bandits were killed and three more died in the hidden valley from their wounds.
Ben and his bandits were fat and their horses were large and slow. To over come this deficiency Ben had a large band, thirty five when they first moved to the hidden valley. He used a small number of bandits in his robberies. He held up a stage coach or a train near a small town or robbed the bank.
The sheriff would learn of the robbery very quickly, form a posse, and ride after the robbers. Invariably, they caught up with the small group and were led into an ambush. The bandits forced them to surrender, took everything, left them tied and naked, and raped and looted the village at will.
They took as many horses, loaded with loot, as they could control. Ben kept the money and gold, but divided the rest. Small groups went in different directions to sell what they could. After spending their money on drunken debauchery, they returned to the hidden valley, to regroup, and do it all over again.
Soon, the army was after the bandits, many smaller group were annihilated trying to capture them. Most of their robberies were far from Nowhere, the hidden valley was a refuge, they returned to rest and to recover. They entered before winter and stayed until the spring melt.
The advantage of the hidden valley was that a single man with plenty of ammunition could hold an entire army at bay. They were safe in the valley, no one could force them out as long as they had supplies. The disadvantage was just as obvious, a small band of armed men could keep them inside until they starved.
Keeping the entrance a secret was imperative. That's why Ben never allowed any bandit to have a woman. They were very careful not to leave a trail to the entrance. Blood dripping from a wound was a cause for concern because it was so easy to over look, but removing horse dung and covering urea was a constant chore. They avoided going into the valley after dark so they could see to make sure they didn't leave a trail.
Two unmarried men from Nowhere joined the bandits with the false hope of giving some of the stolen money to their families. One was killed during his first robbery. The bandits wouldn't share with Joe until his third robbery. By then they were afraid of him because he had learned to shoot so well.
Joe went with four others to sell their share of the loot. He didn't spend all of his money, he was going to give it to his family. The others knew he didn't spend all of his money and they argued with him. They wanted him to spend his money on them, he refused.
Finally they gave up and began the journey to the hidden valley. When they reached the small steam, one of them started the argument again. The other three were tired of the bickering and slowed their horses until they were out of hearing. After they watered their horses at the tip of the tongue, Joe rode north as the other three rode up. The one yelled at him, "Where'd you think you're going?"
"To give my family the rest of my money. It's shorter this way."
"Oh no you're not." He spurred his horse and rode after Joe and they raced to the incline. He was no match for Joe, his horse was slow and was carrying fifty more pounds. The other three watered their horses and followed at a slower pace.
When Joe reached the incline he dismounted and walked his horse. When the one reached the incline he shot at Joe, but he was to far away and missed. Joe didn't give him a second chance, he grabbed his riffle and shot.
The others heard the shots and spurred their horses. Joe continued to walk, they would not challenge him while he was above them. They stopped at the bottom of the incline out of rifle range and watched him go over the rim. Then they rode as fast as they could.
Joe panicked, he didn't know what to do, he rode blindly into the canyon and into the box canyon. Ron heard the horses and knew it was the bandits. He ran in and out of the unexplored caves, trying to find a place to hide. To late the bandit saw him as he ran around the wall of one cave into the next one.
Joe knew that Ron was the only person who would be in the canyon and rode after Ron as fast as he could, hoping that Ron knew a place to hide before the other three caught up with him. He slowed his horse to a walk when he entered the cave, dismounted, and walked his horse through the tunnel.
"Ron, I need your help." He knew Ron heard him and he felt safe, he calmed down and his senses returned, he knew what he had to do. He took his riffle and yelled to Ron, "Take care of my horse. Don't make a sound and don't come out until I come back."
He walked quietly back to the tunnel entrance and peered cautiously around the tunnel wall. He ducked behind the wall, the others were in the box canyon, riding three abreast. He waited until he thought they had passed the cave. When he peeked out again, he couldn't see them and moved quickly out of the tunnel and out of the cave. He shot the first one in the back, reloaded, aimed, and fired with quick smooth confidence. He shot the next one in the side, and the last one in the chest as they turned to attack him. Their horses stopped a short distance from the fallen riders. He watched for movement as he pick up his spent shells. He checked each bandit to make sure they were dead and removed their guns, just in case.
He mounted a horse and yelled, "Hide the bodies and the horses, I have to get another one," and rode off without waiting for an answer. He paused briefly at the canyon entrance, to look across the third step from north to south. Not seeing anyone, he rode quickly to the north incline. Again he searched and again he didn't see anyone. He descended quickly, loaded the dead bandit on his horse, and led the horses up the incline. Again he checked the third step and down the incline, seeing no one he rode slowly back to the box canyon.
He couldn't find the tunnel and he couldn't see Ron. "Ron," he called loudly. In a moment, Ron rode to the rim of the fourth step and Joe rode into that cave. When he reached the top, "Where are we going to bury them?"
"We need shovels first." Joe dismounted, untied his horse from rocks Ron had stacked next to the stream, and tied the other horse in its place. Joe looked around, "You've never been here before?"
"I found it as you rode after me."
"Well let's ride around and see what's here."
"I did, but we can do it again."
"Let's go." They rode slowly along the edge of the box canyon, talking as well as looking.
"Teach me to ride and shoot."
"After we take care of some unfinished business."
"Well the shooting can wait, but we are riding now, so tell me as we go."
Pausing between each sentence to look around, "I had to kill 'em. I shouldn't have told them what I was going to do with my money. I couldn't let them tell Ben. He would kill me and my family. If Ben thought we were captured or killed, he might not. I can't leave the canyon until all the bandits are dead. They'll never let me live. They will kill a deserter on sight and anyone with him."
In between Joe's comments on his riding, Ron told Joe, in detail about the plans he and Paul had made. "Killing the bandits is my number one goal. I know many other things must be done first, but I'm going to kill them. All of them."
When they reached the sixth step, they turned, following it to the edge of the fourth step and then followed the edge to the tip. They enjoyed the view, until the shadow of the mountains covered them and bedded down for the night. Ron used a bandit bedroll, they ate what little food was in the saddle bags, drank water from the stream, and went to sleep.
They woke before sunrise. Joe gave Ron his money, "Buy what you can at the store and order the rest. Don't tell anyone I'm alive, but see if my family is all right.
Ron readied a horse, mounted, rode to the mission, and found Paul, "Let's go to the top." Paul looked down, "Where'd you get the horse?" He looked at Ron, "You've found it, haven't you." "Yes," and Ron told him about Joe and the cave.
"I'm going to stay there for a while, I don't know when I'll be back. I don't know how we will get supplies when Joe's money is gone."
"When can I go?"
"When the others join us, I will take you."
"Then tell me about it." Ron described the upper steps.
"I can't wait to see it." Paul looked intently at Ron, "Trees, didn't you say trees?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Cut fire wood and trade for supplies at the general store." Ron hugged Paul, "Now, I can't wait to get started," and left to check on Joe's family. He traded the horse and saddle for a mule and a small wagon plus a sack of oats at the livery and bought supplies at the general store.
He was back on the forth step by afternoon. He left the mule and wagon in the cave and carried a shovel with him to the top. Joe was gone, two horses were gone. He turned to go back down the path when he noticed an arrow of stones. He saddle a horse and took the shovel. He found Joe near the water fall, he had cleared an area to build a stable against the sixth step wall. He had gathered firewood and was stacking a fire place. "Your family is fine and Paul has not seen the bandits all week."
Together they disassembled the wagon and reassembled it on the fourth step. It took both of them to get the mule through the tunnel. They took the supplies they needed for the day and left the rest in the tunnel. They loaded the bandits in the wagon, stripped them and buried them on the sixth step, washed, and had something to eat.
They cut trees to make the roof, they didn't waste a thing. They piled the limbs and small branches and let them dry. When dry, they broke easily and were used for kindling and cooking. The larger limbs were cut to fire place size and stacked to dry. Whenever they were idle or cold, they cut and stacked firewood.
Three other tasks occupied a large share of their time. Clearing rocks, making hay, and cutting the exposed clay layer into strips and shingles. They took the mule and wagon and cleared a small area until the wagon was full of rock and clay, cut the grass, returned to the sixth step, built the walls of the stable until the wagon was empty and did it all over again. One room at a time they built the box canyon camp.

Return to Headless Table of content

L04V05 The Raiders

They survived the winter without any major difficulty. Ron looked over the third step when ever he took a break. He watched the stage coach come and go. He took note of landmarks where the coach and mules shrank to a column of dust. He needed to see more detail at a greater distance if they were to leave the canyon in safety. He didn't know how they would ever be able to do that so they would just have to take their chances.
Joe knew the habits of the bandits they would use that knowledge to their advantage. The bandits didn't go to the top of the fourth step to see if anyone was below. One of them the point, looked out the entrance, if he didn't see anyone, he continued out leading his horse and rode to the top of the step. If all was clear, he whistled and the rest rode out and down the incline. If he saw anyone below, he knelt, if not he remained standing. If he saw anyone on top, he rode down as fast as he could. The others looked at him at every switch back. If they saw him kneeling, they rode to the top and into the main canyon and hid in the caves until it was clear. If they couldn't see him they rode as fast as they could to the bottom and hid behind the large rocks or in the caves at the base of the tongue to the east of the coach trail.
Joe said they never met anyone coming or going while he was with them. According to Joe, they never went across the top, unless they were going to rob the stage coach coming from the north or to get supplies in Nowhere. The third step was open, no place to hide. Besides, all the nearby villages were south and east, they had no reason to go across the third step. Also, they robbed the train at the southern incline not the north.
While they worked, Ron and Joe talked about how they could get additional income. They came to the same conclusion. They would take up the most dangerous occupation of them all. They would rob robbers. That way they would kill two birds with one stone. They laughed at the pun. They would have to kill the bandits, in order to take anything from them and killing the bandits was their main goal.
They formed a plan. They moved flat rocks to the tip of the fourth step and built the observation post. On stage coach day, they went to the tip early in the afternoon and watched. They soon realized they didn't need to watch for the north bound stage. The bandits could only surprise the stage coach as it came over the rim. It would be to risky to hold up the bandits next to their own hideout, that left only the north incline to watch.
They didn't expect to see the bandits, they did it to take a break from working and to practice observing without being seen. They sat in front of the shelter so they were not silhouettes against the sky and behind the wall so only their heads were visible in the vee's. They wore clothing that matched the color of the rock and were careful not to wear or to carry anything shiny.
One day, they saw a small cloud of dust to the south near the fourth step wall. It had to be the bandits, everyone else followed the stage coach trail. They looked at each other in anticipation and watched the dust cloud come closer. When the dust cloud became two riders, another dust cloud appeared.
The first two rode a short distance north of the canyon entrance to a series of large rocks next to the dry stream bed. One climbed from one rock to another until he was on the largest rock, some ten fee above the ground. He faced the north incline and held a tube to his face. Ron didn't know what he was doing. He had never seen or heard of a telescope. Joe knew, but couldn't tell Ron because the bandits might hear him.
After a few minutes he turned south and did the same thing. Three riders came from the south, stopped briefly, and rode north. Frequently they stopped and looked at the bandit on the rock and rode further. The three became a dust cloud and then the dust cloud disappeared, but the bandit on the rock continued to stand.
Joe pulled on Ron's sleeve. Quietly, they crawled to their horses and led them to the path. Joe knew what the bandits were doing. Talking softly, he convinced Ron that he could kill the two on the rocks without the others hearing the shots because they were to far away and a strong wind was blowing from the north, it would carry the sound away from them. The wind would also make it difficult for the bandits on the rock to hear anyone coming out of the canyon. They checked their guns and they rode down the path.
Joe was right, as they entered the canyon from the box canyon, a strong wind was blowing in. Joe dismounted and walked quietly and slowly to the entrance, but that was the last things he did slow. He raised his rifle, fired, reloaded and shot again.
He signaled Ron to come forward with the horses, ran to the rocks, climbed to the top, and used the telescope. As Ron rode up, "Hand me his hat." Joe removed his shirt, "His shirt." Joe looked in both directions with the telescope. He jumped down and helped load the bandits on to his and Ron's horses. He climbed back up on the rocks and stood. Again Joe looked in all directions with the telescope, "Now we can relax until the stage coach comes.
While we wait, ride a bandit horse and leave ours at the top to the path." Ron didn't argue, they were committed and this was not the time to debate who was going to do what and when.
When Ron returned, Joe explained, "The three have left their horses back from the edge and they are on the ground near the edge. One of them has a telescope just like this one. Every few minutes, he will look down the incline to make sure everything is going according to plan and then he will look back at me.
Remember the signals I told you about. Well, they are using them now. I'm acting as their lookout and I hope they can't tell the difference. All we can do now is wait and continue the act."
It was a long wait. As the sun went behind the mountains, Joe became nervous, the stage was behind schedule. "I hope no one else comes, because if we don't kill them, Ben will know we are in the canyon."
"Can you see what they are doing?"
"Nothing.
Wait." Then Joe gave Ron a running narrative, "Two men are walking over the rim. They dropped their weapons. Now they are leading the team on to the step. A bandit went into the coach. He came out. The driver and the other man are mounting the coach. The bandits are watching the coach go to Nowhere.
I hope their plan is simple and they come back the same way they came.
Dam it, they're going to the incline.
They stopped.
Here they come."
Joe took one last look around and jumped down. "I nearly dropped dead until one of them waved and started to ride toward us. They're coming fast, they won't use the telescope again. They'll be looking down the barrel of my rifle before they know they are riding into a trap."
"You'll give them the surprise of their lives."
"Their last surprise."
Joe moved the bandit's horses into plain sight and climbed back up on the rock only this time he had a rifle instead of a telescope. He stood with one side toward the bandits and the rifle down his leg on the other side. The bandits were laughing as they approached, they didn't know anything was wrong until Joe raised his rifle and fired.
One fell and the other two made the worst mistake they could have made, they stopped. Two more quick shots and then, no sound but the wind.
Joe put his rifle down, picked up the telescope and looked all around. He picked up his spent rounds and they rode to the bandits. They made sure each one was dead and laid each across his own saddle and tied them to the saddle horn. They checked the ground to make sure nothing would betray what had happen.
Joe rode slightly ahead of Ron and lead one of the horses on the opposite side from Ron. Ron lead the other two horses. They rode on soft ground when possible making sure a track was visible from the rocks to the incline.
Joe checked one more time with the telescope, it was almost dark and they would just have to take their chances. They rode down the incline and across soft ground to the northeast until they reached hard ground. They circled back to the stage coach trail and headed back to camp single file. They stayed on hard ground or rock all the way even when it took longer.
Both were out of breath when they reached the canyon. They were tired and let everything fall to the ground when they took care of the horses. At dawn, they stripped and buried the bandits and stored the gear.
"We don't have room for all this stuff."
"We'll have to build another room."
Joe picked up a saddle bag and nearly fell over, its weight surprised him. "No wonder its heavy," as he removed a sack of gold dust, "What are we going to do with it? We can't sell it, everyone will know where we got it."
"You're right and Ben will surely find out." They put it in the kitchen, a problem to solve later. They continued to empty the saddle bags and found the other telescope. Unknowingly, they had dealt the bandit a severe blow, not only did they kill five, now the bandits didn't have a telescope.
They rode to where the sixth step ended at the edge of the fourth step and tied their horses behind the skyline. They stacked a rock bench near the edge and sat down to wait. They could see the stage coach trail, but with the sixth step as a backdrop, it would be almost impossible to see their heads from below, even if the bandits had a telescope. They didn't talk just in case someone was near the forth step wall out of their sight.
They didn't have to wait long. The bandits took the bait, they followed the hoof prints from the rocks to the incline and rode down. When the first group reached the bottom the other group rode to the edge. The first group found the tracks in the soft ground and followed them to the northeast. At the hard ground, they spread out trying to pick up the trail. More than an hour passed before they gave up and rode back and joined the other group at the top of the incline. They were mad. They milled around for a long time before they rode to Nowhere.
With a telescope, Joe counted them, all the bandits were riding to Nowhere. He motioned to Ron, they mounted, rode to the tip, and dismounted. They were not careful as they sat down and leaned against the shelter. They watched the bandits through the telescopes and looked at the mission tower, Paul had not seen them, yet.
Each knew what the other was thinking. They could do nothing, but worry. They started it, they had not though of reprisal, now others would suffer the consequences of their error. The bandits increased their pace and changed direction from Nowhere toward the hidden valley.
They looked through their telescopes trying to determine what caused the bandits to change directions and speed. Joe was the first to see the huge dust cloud to the northeast. Only a large cavalry unit could make that much dust. They got up and returned to camp.
They started a habit they would never break, they rode midway between the two edges to their camp. They could not be seen from the box canyon or the third step and minimized the chance that anyone below would hear any noise they might make.
On the way they talked about common concerns. First was their feeling of panic as the bandits rode toward Nowhere. They agreed, they had to find away to signal someone in Nowhere. They looked at each other and said in unison, "Paul."
"He wants to come here, I'll have to bring him some day and we can show him our problem."
"I don't know how he'll get up the path, he could never climb it, but maybe he will have an idea." Next they discussed the cavalry, "If the word gets out about the gold they will never go away."
After a week of not seeing the cavalry or the bandits, Ron took a telescope and the gold to Paul. Joe watched from the tip and if he saw either the bandits or the cavalry he would place stones on the roof of the shelter, the beginning of the signaling system. Ron gave Paul the telescope and they went to the top of the tower. They agreed on a set of signals and refined them that summer. Did the cavalry come to Nowhere?"
"Only one small patrol, they talked with some people and left. The main column continued northeast, they were tracking five bandits. I haven't seen the bandits for a month."
"We did, they turned before you saw them. We're not sure, but when Joe and I destroyed their plans, we thought they were going to take out their anger on the people of Nowhere, that's why we need the signals, so we can warn one another."
He told Paul about the bandits, the gold, and the camp.
"The stage coach driver told the innkeeper about the holdup. There is a reward for the capture of the bandits and the return of the gold." Then Paul named several families who wanted to leave Nowhere.
"Maybe we will get some help with our plan."
"I'd like to help, but I still can't ride. The priest arranged a mule and a wagon for me to do errands. I searched all the empty houses and gathered anything of use and stored it here. You can take what you want."
"Thanks, I'll look at it before I leave."
Paul left the telescope on the cat walk and they went down.
"What are we going to do with gold?"
"I could tell the priest that I found it on the trail when I was doing errands."
Ron liked the idea, he gave Paul a hug and left the mission with a few items that Paul had gathered. He made arrangements to trade firewood with the storekeeper. The storekeeper gave him some supplies in advance and Ron returned to the camp.
Each time he returned to Nowhere he brought a load of firewood and returned with food and other supplies. He went about every other week. With frequent use of the canyon, he had to clean up the horse and mule dung and cover the urea with sand. The mule carried two sacks and a shovel for that purpose.
The villagers knew he had reached the fourth step, but no one said the words out loud. There was an unspoken code among them, if you don't ask, I won't lie. They didn't know what his plans were, but they were confident he would get even with the bandits and they wanted that.
The priest made a trip to the mining village. The mine owner was so glad to get the gold back, he paid no attention to the story of how it was recovered. Not only that, he gave the priest a very generous reward. The priest used the money to help the families leave Nowhere.
Instead of walking, the priest asked Paul to drive him around the village. He though Paul should meet people more often. It did help Paul, his spirits picked up, he began to smile, and the priest was pleased. Paul knew everything that was going on in the village. He coordinated the secret joining of four other boys to Ron's Raiders.
They told their parents what they were going to do far enough before hand so all the arguing had stopped before the families were going to leave Nowhere and when Paul told them it was safe to leave. They traveled with their families beyond the bottom of the incline, found a place to hide, and returned to the canyon after dark. Ron met them at the entrance and took them to the camp.
The work was hard, but with six of them to do it, no one had to work hard for very long. They took turns at all of their work, they had to for some jobs because they only had one shovel, one ax, one saw, one sickle, etc. They continued to cut fire wood but the larger trees were sawed into lumber. They did all of their sawing in one place and the pile of sawdust became their ice house.
During the winter they cut ice from the small stream and buried it in the sawdust. Fresh meat kept much longer and frozen meat kept most of the summer. They ate eggs, chicken, and mutton much more frequently and less beans, corn meal, sour dough, and boiled oats. The lumber allowed them to trade for additional items such as kerosene lamps, kerosene, and tools. They used the tools to make wood and clay house hold items during the long winter.
By the end of the third winter they were living comfortably, if you didn't mind clay floors, a log ceiling, and drab clay walls. They didn't. It was dry, wind tight, and they had enough food and soft hay mattresses. What more could they ask for? When the new boys were accustom to the routine, Ron brought Paul to the camp. He rode in his wagon to the cave, climbed on a sledge, the mule pulled the sledge to the top, and then he traveled by wagon.
He enjoyed everything about the fourth step, the camp, the view, the grass, the stream, the trees, the mountains. He wanted to stay, they said he could, he knew he could. They talked until very late. They made plans and revised them over and over. When the others woke, Paul was ready to go.
"Why?"
"I'm to valuable to you at the mission. I know the people, they tell me things they wouldn't tell anyone else. I know what is going on. My absence would raise to much suspicion. But most important, you will have a trussed observer in the bell tower. One who would never betray your secret." His last argument silenced them, he returned to Nowhere.
The next years were routine. Following the bandits was difficult and they couldn't find a safe way to keep track of them. The bandits rarely came to Nowhere and even more rarely did they cross the step. They came and went using the south incline completely out of sight. Only a few times were the raiders lucky enough to catch a small group. As time passed, the raiders became less cautious, they had reduced the bandits to eighteen. At three to one, the raiders thought the odds were even.
Many times all six went to Nowhere. They ate and told stories at the inn. The youngest raider was now nineteen and they considered themselves men. Ron kept a supply of cigars in his shirt pocket, when ever they made a successful raid, he gave each of the others a cigar. It became a habit for the others, after a raid to take a cigar from his pocket.
One cigar was never smoked, it had a black band. If one of the others took that cigar, Ron hit him, and took the cigar back, "That cigar is for me and me alone."
"Why don't you smoke it?"
"This cigar is for when Ben captures me." Always, silence followed until one would finally say, "He will never capture you."
The next summer was long and dull. In September, Paul heard about a large shipment of gold from the mine. Ron asked Paul to learn as much as possible. He learned the date of shipment, how it was to be guarded, and the make up of the train. A cavalry squad in the first and seventh cars and their horses in the second and sixth cars. An infantry squad in the third and fifth cars and the gold in the fourth.
The raiders spent the time before shipment planning what they would do, speculating about what the bandits would do, and what the army would do. They assumed the bandits would attack the train at the south incline after the engine returned to get the next two cars so the army force would be divided and only one group would know what was happening. They assumed the train would be divided into the following groups to go around the end of tongue, a cavalry car and a horse car, an infantry car and the gold car, the last infantry car, and then the last two cavalry cars.
On the day of shipment, the raiders rode to the tip of the tongue. They used rope loops and split fire place logs to lower themselves to the railroad and hid in the caves at the base of the second step. When the engine passed, they uncoupled the gold car and as predicted, the infantry was looking out the valley side of the car, they didn't anticipate any trouble on the step. They were joking and laughing, and making so much noise they never heard the cars uncouple.
The raiders used the hand brake to stop the car, opened it, expecting a shoot out that never happened, the car was empty except for the gold. They opened the five crates, removed the gold bars, filled the crates with rocks, and renailed the crates. They hid the bars, climbed to the top, and rode back to camp.
As the train approached the south incline, the soldiers returned to their posts and discovered the gold car missing. They scrambled to stop the engine and reverse it. They checked the gold car and didn't find anything to make them suspicious, but no one could explain how the car became uncoupled.
The brakeman recoupled the cars and they returned to the south incline. The bandits had not anticipated what the cavalry would do when they reached the siding. As soon as the brakeman uncoupled their cars, they disembarked and took up defensive positions on both sides of the track.
The bandits could not attack until the engine was beyond the first curve in the step, otherwise the engineer would not bring the gold car. The bandits had to attack a dispersed force instead of a concentrated one in a rail car, that was not in their plan and they paid a high price.
They killed or drove the cavalry away from the tongue and by the time, they circled, it was to late. The bandits followed their plan with the infantry. They pinned them in their car, decoupled the gold car, and forced the engineer to drive on past the siding away from the gold car.
They kept the infantry pinned in their car until they were ready to leave, and retreated as fast as they could back to the hidden valley, dragging the gold on sledges, with a rear guard keeping the army at bay. They executed their retreat so well the army swore they disappeared into thin air.
Both groups were glad they provisioned their camps earlier than usual because the army camped outside of Nowhere and stayed for six months. They searched the canyon, the steps, and all around the tongue, every day until the snow came, and again in the spring, but they didn't find the gold or the bandits.
Neither group left camp until the army left. The bandits were very cautions, only twelve were left, and the raiders didn't see them until the day of the headless horseman.
In late June, Ron watched the last of the army leave Nowhere and went for supplies the same day. He was glad he took the chance that they would not have a patrol come back to catch the bandits if they had been waiting for the army to leave. Because patrols did come back the next day and every day at a different time for two weeks.
Ron became concerned several days before the patrols stopped coming to Nowhere because the time stones had not been changed. Their system was simple, four large different shaped stones designated the bandits, the army, the stage coach, and the freight wagon. A small round stone indicated direction, no small stone meant they were in Nowhere. Small block shaped stones, displayed in an open pyramid, indicated the last hour the signal was updated.
They used the same signals at both locations, except Paul used a small cone shaped stone next to the time stones to mean come as soon as you can. One cone shaped stone on each side of the time stones meant stay at home. No one else knew about the stones so something had to be wrong with Paul.
A raider was on watch all day every day. When a patrol had not been seen all day Ron rode into Nowhere that night. Ron's heart sank when he saw people walking to the mission, the priest met him at the door. "Paul went into convulsions three days ago and died this morning, the whole village is in mourning, I'm very sorry Ron." Ron grieved this time.
More than a month past before the raiders regained some semblance of themselves. For some unexplained reason they were in good spirits at the same time. They decided to visit Paul's grave and even the mention of Paul's name didn't depress them. From the cemetery they rode to Nowhere and ate a late lunch at the inn.
The noise of the north bound stage, coming in ahead of schedule, interrupted their conversation. Ron and Joe left the others and were on the porch stairs, when Ben and three others walked toward the inn. Everyone stopped.
Joe said softly to Ron, "I don't know the other three." Ben said in a challenging voice, "Staying or leaving."
"Staying," said Joe and finished walking down the stairs. "Are you joining us, then," said Ben, "We need more men." Ron said, "No, we won't join you."
"I don't let gun slingers stay in my territory unless they do." Ron walked down to the right of Joe as he said, "We don't want to go where you're going." Ben said, "Don't I know you?" and reached for his gun. Joe and Ron drew at the same time, but Joe shot Ben before he raised his pistol and shot the other three before their guns cleared their holsters.
The other raiders came running with rifles in hand. No one saw the point riding from the north as fast as his tired horse would go. He stopped when Ben drew, grabbed his rifle and shot at Joe. Ron stepped forward as he drew his pistol and took the bullet aimed at Joe.
Joe dove for cover, the point was out of pistol range. The point turned and rode back the way he came when the other raiders came out the door and shot at him, they missed. Joe ran to his horse.
Two days before, the bandits were spotted by a cavalry patrol. When the patrol didn't close, Ben knew they had sent a messenger and they were going to follow them until help arrived. Ben tried to throw them off their trail by splitting the bandits into two groups.
He took his best three, headed south, and circled toward the hidden valley while the others headed north and circled to the hidden valley. Ben thought the patrol would follow the larger group or split and follow both groups. They followed him.
Now the patrol had the advantage in numbers and closed on Ben. In desperation, Ben tried the old trick of going on foot and sending the riderless horses in a different direction. It worked, it gave them time to hide. After dark they walked down a small stream to conceal their tracks.
At the stage coach trail, they hid their gun belts in pack sacks, stopped the stage, and rode to Nowhere. They hoped to buy horses in Nowhere and return to camp. Their other options risked disclosing the entrance.
Slowed by the necessity of finding and following a trail, the cavalry patrols were encircling the other group. By chance the bandits had avoided visual contact. Until that happened the patrols could not close on them.
But they made two mistakes that sealed their fate. First, they slowed when the first patrol followed Ben and second they delayed circling to the hidden valley. One patrol picked up their trail as they headed north. A bandit saw them cross a rise to the south as they were making camp. They made camp but did not stay, they rode north all night. Resting on a small hill at day break, they saw a dust cloud to the northeast and headed west. At sunset, they turned south to the hidden valley. The point reached the top of the incline, while the others rested at the bottom, to see the dust clouds of three patrols converging on them. He signaled the others to continue.
The point rode to Nowhere to make sure it was clear and rode in as Joe shot Ben. He shot at Joe and rode away when the others came out of inn. When the point could see the rest of the bandits, they were already doing the only thing they could do, they were heading for the canyon. Their horses were so tired they didn't clear the rim before a patrol point saw them and gave the enemy in sight signal. The rest of the patrol stopped searching for a trail, spurred their horses, and took a direct route toward the bandits.
After the exhausting climb the bandit's horses were so tired they were moving at a slow walk in single file. They didn't intend to move in single file, but the horses with the most stamina walked a little faster than the others and soon they were following one another. When the first bandit reached the canyon more than hundred yards separated them.
Joe had only one thing in mind as he got up from the ground, kill the one who shot Ron. He ran into the livery, saddled his horse, and rode after him. He never gave any thought to his own danger, he just rode as fast as he could. The tired horse was no match for a rested one. When the other bandits saw Joe riding hard to catch the point, the urgency of the situation was transmitted unconsciously to their horses and they moved faster.
Joe didn't see the other bandits until their violent signals to the point caught his eye. They tried to warn the point that Joe was coming up on his right side, the left side would be the easier shot for a right handed person. The point turned the wrong way, to his left, presenting Joe with the largest target and he didn't miss, he shot him in the middle of his back. When he fell, Joe turned toward the other bandits.
He tried to prevent them from entering the canyon. When he couldn't stop the first two from reaching the canyon, he turned his horse on a diagonal between the next two. He shot the fourth bandit in his side as he cut in front of him and shot the third bandit in the back as he rode behind him. He turned his horse in a tight circle and rode between the next two.
The tired men didn't stand a chance, their shots missed, Joe's didn't. Again he turned in a tight circle toward the last bandit outside the canyon. The first two bandits dismounted in the canyon, grabbed their rifles and ran to the entrance and shot at Joe as he closed on the last bandit, two rounds tore Joe from his horse.
The other raiders were stunned when they reached the stairs. They never thought anyone of them would be killed. They looked at Ron, in disbelief, before they followed Joe. One stopped, rolled Ron over, and took the cigars out of his pocket. He said, "I'm sorry you won't be there to smoke with us after we kill him, but we will get him for you, you can count on it, Ron." He put the cigars in his shirt pocket and ran to his horse.
The other three rode into the canyon together chasing the last bandit on horseback. They had no thought but to kill the bandits and shot the last bandit in the back. The first two bandits shot at them from the caves and killed two raiders. The third raider shot a bandit, but the speed of his horse took him past the last bandit in the caves and he ran out of his cave and shot the raider in the back as the last raider rode into the canyon and shot him in the back.
The last raider rode slowly toward the box canyon camp. He didn't hear the first cavalry squad ride to the entrance and take up defensive positions out of his sight, his ears were still ringing. His thoughts were ones of grief, all his friends were dead. He said to no one, "I told you, Ron. I told you, we'd get him. We got'm, we got'm all. Doesn't that deserve a cigar." He turned his horse around and rode toward the entrance. "I told you many times, 'Ben would never capture you,' I'll smoke your cigar for you."
He took the cigar with the black band from his pocket and lit it. The ramifications of what had happened came to him. He put his hands on the saddle horn, leaned back in the saddle, and leaned his head back until he was looking at the sky. He took a puff on the cigar and said between his teeth, "It's mine, all mine," and took another puff.
The sound and the force of the explosion spooked his horse and it charged out of the canyon, with his hands frozen to the saddle horn, his body leaning back, his head hanging down behind by his broken neck out of sight. That is what the cavalrymen saw, a headless horseman ride out of Nowhere canyon. It didn't matter what they saw later, the first vision is what they remembered and that is the story they told.

Return to Headless Table of content

L04V06 The Family Fortune

JC worked at any job he could get in the capitol and saved as much money as possible. First, he tried to locate the owner of the mining company. The original owner was dead and JC couldn't locate any heirs. The original owner went bankrupt after the raiders stole his gold. It was the first shipment from his new smelter and the shipment would have paid all of his debts and then some. The company was sold several times and the following owners didn't fare any better. The quality of the ore declined and even with improved methods, they couldn't make a profit. The current owner was still operating because the banks received interest plus a partial payment on the debt, it was only a token payment, but enough to delay foreclosure.
Next, he learned the land around Nowhere was owned by the state. He borrowed as much money as he could from his father and grandfather and bought the entire staircase from the government. Mineral, lumber, and water rights were included.
He studied irrigation, lumbering methods, and cable tool drilling. By spring he had enough money to begin the next step in his plan. He returned to Nowhere and asked for a village meeting the next day. He told the people what he had done and the details of his plan. They agreed to help when they could. He told them after the spring planting he would take anyone who was interested to the two camps. Many were excited about going to the top of the forth step. He asked them to ask their friends and relatives to return to Nowhere. He would guaranty them work and a place to live. The priest offered to write any letters needed.
Later the storekeeper told him some credit was left from the items he sold for him. The people were excited about his plan, now with the extra money, JC was excited, he could develop his plan even faster. He gave the storekeeper an order for supplies and asked the livery owner to buy some breeding stock. With the carpenter he discussed building a cable tool drill and windmills. With the other men of the village he discussed and got agreement on the location of the new wells.
With the preliminary work in progress JC modified an old plow and cut long strips of clay from the edge of the step and cut the strips into squares. When he had enough, the supplies had arrived, the spring planting was done, and new families were moving into Nowhere. Some puzzles still remained, the one that bother him the most was, "Where did the raiders hide the gold?". He looked everywhere he thought they might hide it with out success.
"Maybe they never moved it from its original hiding place, immediately following the robbery."
He checked the retaining wall and the rock pile at the base of the second step near the railroad. He looked down into the pool at the base of the first step, he searched all the caves on both sides of the tongue, but the hiding place eluded him.
He knew they didn't take it with them when they climbed up the step. One man could barely slide the crates on a smooth floor. Because the raiders used clay to cover the rock walls in their camp, he was sure the retaining wall held the clue. An earlier question he had asked himself returned, "Why did the builders import clay to cover the retaining wall. It didn't make sense, clay was available on the edge of the step."
He knew he was overlooking something, but he couldn't figure out what it was. When he was cutting the clay to make the irrigation system it came to him. The clay for the wall had not been imported, the clay layer had. It was very logical, what the raiders had done. They knew the loose rock would be moved by anyone trying to find the gold. Anyone moving the rock would stop when they reached the clay layer. It was to dense, after digging through it a couple of times and finding solid rock beneath, they would not do it again.
The raiders couldn't risk an errant shovel or pick nicking a clay covered bar and exposing the gold; therefore the gold had to be buried as far as possible from the railroad and the loose rock. The only place that met those conditions was the railroad side of the retaining wall and that is what they had done.
Before the day of shipment, holes were dug next to the retaining wall down to the clay layer, it was the footing for the wall as well, and lined them with clay high enough to be above the gold bars. They removed rock and sand from both sides of the wall down to the top of the clay lined holes.
More rock and sand was removed to form a gentle slope away from the holes in all directions until they reach the clay layer some distance from the holes. Soft clay tiles from the fourth step were placed on top of the gentle slope and sealed to one another, to the wall, and outward until they met the exposed clay layer, to make the new clay layer appear to be the clay layer of the step. They covered the soft clay with sand and then sand and rock until they restored it to its original depth, except for the holes.
It didn't take long to move the bars from the car to the prepared holes, cover them with clay tiles, smooth out the edges with a small amount of water, cover them with sand and rock, and tamp it solid.
A three day celebration followed the completion of the first well. With the clay squares, sand, and rock, JC showed the people how to build an aqueduct from the well to the irrigation ditches. Soon, a windmill was pumping water into the aqueduct.
When the people were relieved of pumping and hauling water, they worked on his plan, everyone had some free time. As each segment of his plan was completed, the enthusiasm and eagerness to complete the plan, increased. The work was hard, but enjoyable because everyone could see the progress toward a common goal.
The fall harvest was the largest ever and they had a week long celebration. They traded the excess for new plows, additional breeding stock, and other items they could not make for themselves. Everyone had visited the two camps by fall. After the celebration, they cut firewood and lumber. Mule trains hauled it to Nowhere and freight wagons hauled it to the mining village. Before the spring planting was finished, JC made a deal with the owner of the mining company and became his partner in exchange for paying off all the mine debts.
Then JC was ready to retrieve the gold. He returned to wall, uncovered one of the gold bars, measured it, and recovered it. He asked the carpenter to make five sturdy wooden crates. When JC returned to pick up the crates, the carpenter offered to help him without mentioning gold. He and JC plus two horses and a mule, dug up, crated the gold bars, and moved them into a shallow cave. JC made arrangements with the railroad, they met the train at the south incline, rode to the cave, stopped the train, loaded the crates, and rode with them to the smelter.
The stolen bars were much larger than current production, to avoid disclosure his partner melted the stolen bars and mixed them with the regular production. An increase of one extra bar with each routine shipment from the mine, eventually paid of all the mine debts. The mine was again profitable and both partners had a modest but steady income.
This increase in JC's income was the beginning of the family fortune. With the income from the mine and the lumber, JC developed the two camps very rapidly. In three years, he paid back all he had borrowed and had three thriving businesses, mining gold, raising horses, and selling lumber.
JC built shutes from the edge of the sixth step to the canyon floor. Logs were dragged by mules across the sixth step to the chutes, the logs were rolled into the chutes, and gravity caused the logs to slide to the canyon floor. Mule drawn wagons hauled them to another chute down the south incline to a saw mill near the railroad siding.
JC built an aqueduct and a reservoir to provide water power to operate the mill. Sawdust filled caves on the north side of the tongue made excellent ice houses. Scrap from the mill provided cheap firewood. The standard of living rose with each change. The people had time to improve their homes and to enjoy the view from the steps.
My wife interrupted, "JC must have married during this time. You haven't mentioned a woman."
"I'm sorry I hadn't mentioned her sooner, but you had to know some things before I told you the rest of the story. He met and married a gold miners daughter. Do you like the pun?"
"Please, dad."
"How about a little more detail."
"OK, this is how it happened."
Money was seldom used in Nowhere, the storekeeper was the village banker and broker. He recorded all trades between the people of Nowhere and made all trades with outsiders. He recorded the trades in a log book so he wouldn't forget.
He, the livery owner, the carpenter, and the innkeeper were the village oversight committee. Every family received a share of each harvest. As they traded their share for other things, he adjusted their account.
The number of transactions increased after JC returned and since most of the transactions were due to JC's activities, JC helped record them. By the next year, JC spent half a day a week recording trades. Both he and the storekeeper would rather do something else, but no one in Nowhere could or would do the job.
After becoming a partner in the gold mining company, he spent one day a week at the mines. He noticed the door to the bookkeeping office was always left open when his partner was doing business. He explained, "I let my bookkeepers listen to every business deal. If either one disagrees with the deal, they close the door, and I have their opinion without the other party knowing."
"You have more than one bookkeeper? How many do you have? Do you really need them?"
"We have two. No, we don't need two, but she is the bookkeeper's daughter, she helps him, it gives her something to do."
"She's not married."
"That's right."
JC changed the subject and they left the office to visit the mines. JC never saw her at the company office, she stayed in the bookkeeping office while anyone was present. If some one wanted to look at the accounts her father took the books into the other room and returned to get them when they were no longer needed.
She listened very carefully, whenever JC was present, first, because he didn't say much and she wanted to hear what little he did say and second, she wanted to know about this man who carried a rock in his pocket and gave away half of his gold to keep it a secret. She and her father agreed with JC's offer because it was the only way the company would stay in business.
The innkeeper's wife asked him to pick up an order for her so she didn't have to wait for the freight wagon. Before he left the mining village, he stopped at the general store and asked for the order. While he was waiting, a young woman placed a package on the counter and left to look at something else.
Something aroused his interest. She was not good looking, she was neat, but not well dressed, she walked well and appeared very confident. The clerk set his order on the counter, but he continued to watch her. As she returned to the counter, she caught his glance. He turned quickly, picked up a package, and started for the door.
She said politely, "I believe you have the wrong package, Mr. Smith."
"So I have." He returned her package to the counter, picked up his, and left wondering who she was and how she knew his name.
As the operations at the mine and Nowhere became routine, JC became restless. If he could free himself from the bookkeeping chore he could travel again. He told the storekeeper about the bookkeepers daughter. "Let's add a room to the store and hire her. I'll pay her salary, plus a monthly trip to her home and back."
"OK and she can live with us, that will eliminate any objections about housing."
The storekeeper left the next day, he assumed it would take several trips even if she was willing to move to Nowhere. The storekeeper went through the formalities, explained their problem, and suggested their solution to JC's partner. He even told him the salary they were prepared to offer, plus the paid trip home and back once a month, and the housing arrangements. The partner commented, "That's a very good offer. I know I can get along with out her. Let's call her in and see what she thinks."
Before he could move, she walked into the room, "Take me home to pack my things and we can leave." They looked at each other.
"Well." They jumped to their feet.
"Aren't you going to discuss this with your father?"
"I already have, while you were talking, I'm going."
Her father was impressed with JC and encouraged her to accept the offer by pointing out the positive aspects. He was a miner until a mining accident. He educated himself and became a bookkeeper. Many times at dinner they discussed the changes JC made at the mines.
Often her father said, "JC is a shrewd man." He liked how JC handled the miners demand for more pay. They grumbled, but accepted his answer. JC didn't tell them what he was going to do, he let the smart ones figure it out and tell the others. JC lowered the cost of food and firewood, by summers end. People hate to wait for a promises to be full filled and JC knew that.
By month end, she had a routine well established. She not only recorded the trades, she did the inventory of the store, the livery, the carpenters shop, the ranch, and the lumbering operation and she still had time to spare, which she used to become friends with the villagers, to learn about Nowhere, and to subtly learn more about JC.
JC didn't meet her until her second work day. "Hello Mr. Smith, I'm Miss Gertrude Campbell." JC nearly stammered, "And you are the lady whose package, I tried to take." The rest of the conversation was work related.
"When you have time, I would like to show you the ranch and the lumbering operations."
"I would like that very much, I will let you know when I can."
JC stopped every day, to say hello, if he didn't have a work related topic to talk about. At the end of the month she told him she had time. The next morning they rode around the box canyon camp. She was a better rider than most men, including JC. He would admit he wasn't very good, but he was better than he said he was.
When they reached the tip of the fourth step, they stopped to enjoy the view. She carefully guided the conversation from geography to business, to him, and his plans. When they resumed their ride she relinquished control of the conversation. She was so tactful, JC was not aware that she had taken control.
Later, when he did become aware of what she was doing, he didn't stop her, he smiled and let her control the conversation to measure how long she kept control, he admired her capability. He watched her with other people, especially the men at the ranch and the lumber camp. JC had an ability that most people don't have, he could observe people for a short period of time and draw accurate conclusions about them.
He let her guide the men into making good decisions. She may not know what the man's job entailed, but she could ask the right questions at the right time, to guide his thinking. She had a good head for business and was very much aware of the male ego. She did her best not to damage it, but neither did she let it get out of control.
He knew after watching her for a month, that he could leave for any length of time and the business would still be profitable when he returned. He made short trips to find additional opportunities.
The week after the last of the get acquainted with the operations tours, JC asked her to accompany him on a pleasure ride on Sunday afternoon, it became a regular activity. Many times not a word was spoken, neither felt a need to do so.
They rode to the edge of a step and looked at the view. She turned to see what he was looking at, he was looking at her with an odd smile. "What are you smiling about, Mr. Smith?"
"Will you marry me, Miss Campbell?"
"Why Mr. Smith, don't you think it a little soon to talk of marriage. We hardly know one another."
"Maybe, maybe not."
"After I have known you for awhile I might consider it, but not now."
"OK. I'll ask another time." She knew he was interested or he would not have asked her to ride with him. But, he had not used any words of endearment or made any move to touch her or anything else that would indicate he was THAT interested in her.
Every time he smiled like that, she said, "No, Mr. Smith, I'm not ready to answer, not yet," and he would grin. She kept the relationship on a very formal basis. She couldn't decide if she wanted him for a husband. She was fascinated by him, he was an enigma to her.
She didn't like people who seek wealth for wealth's sake and what about a man who carried a rock in his pocket, all the time? He claimed the pound and a half rock was his good luck charm. She didn't like the wanderlust he had told her about. She could see his restlessness increase each week as the ranch and the lumbering operations became more routine. She was not surprised when he took short trips. One trip lasted a month and he said very little about it.
As the businesses grew, he built an office next to the bookkeeping room, so he could have a formal place to conduct business. He left the door to the bookkeeping room ajar like his partner did. He enjoyed knowing that she agreed with him on a decision without a word being said.
Later, he enjoyed it even more because they disagreed so seldom. He tried to give her flowers at work and she would not accept them, if he brought them to the storekeepers home, she would.
JC established an account with the largest bank in the valley, payment for lumber shipped by rail was mailed to the bank. Usually, she didn't pay attention to his personal accounts. For some reason when she was writing a check to his father, she wondered why he was still sending large sums of money to him, the loans had been paid long ago.
She researched the old records and noticed that his accounts never seemed to increase even though the businesses were doing very well. She wanted to know what he was doing with his money, she didn't want to marry a spend thrift, but that would be way out of character, he lived very frugally, so what was he doing with his money? The more she checked the more her curiosity increased. She could see a steady increase in the credit he was giving to the mission and to the church in the mining village, plus an increase in the amount he was sending to his family members.
Finally, her curiosity could be constrained no longer and during their customary Sunday afternoon ride, "Why are you giving so much to the mission and the church when you are not even religious?"
"What does that have to do with it?"
"Please, do not misunderstand, it's not a matter of religion. It's a matter of my curiosity, your contributions piqued it."
"Why are you so curious?"
"I can't explain it, I just am." He told her about the orphanages and schools where he worked during his drifting days. Each was in need of so much and he could do so little. Now he could do something, he could join the rest of his family in contributing to worth while causes.
Half of the money was being invested by his family and the rest was supporting a cause selected by the family. Previously, he told her he didn't have to work, his family was modestly well to do. He worked because he wanted to do something constructive, but he couldn't stay in one place very long.
Now, she realized what he meant by modestly well to do. His family was wealthy and he had doubled their wealth over the last three years. The lumber business was very profitable and he purchased other tracks of land and mines and placed his relatives in charge of them. He and his family made good investments. She knew because she helped make some of them.
They dismounted at the observation post and sat on the bench. He went in to great detail. "My family taught me well. Give and enjoy without the recipients knowledge of the giver. Give in a way the receiver thinks they earned the gift. Never give anyone anything directly and make sure they never lose their self-reliance. Businesses fail and giving would be curtailed. No one had enough money to do everything they wanted to do. If people become dependent and the gifts stopped coming, they would be worse off than before.
I receive immense satisfaction every time I think about the results of my contributions. It doesn't matter if anyone knows, in fact my pleasure is greater when no one knows. The priest and the preacher have the ability to give as I want, so I work through them.
A short time after I arrived in Nowhere, the stories told me, as I read between the lines, that the old priest went hungry during the winter so some of the children would have some food. At the time I couldn't do much, so I asked the innkeeper to invite the priest for dinner as often as he would come and I would pay for the meals. The innkeeper understood and a strong bond formed between us.
We formed a partnership which soon expanded to include the rest of the oversight committee, in time the priest joined us. I told the priest if he took better care of himself, I would increase my contribution. After I convinced him, he joined the partnership. We discussed the needs of the people and set priorities.
Slowly, the living standard of Nowhere rose, always staying within the capabilities of the people and as much as possible without their knowledge of who was responsible. As my income increased, I included the preacher.
After my loans were repaid, my income was large enough to continue sending money to my family. During the month long trip, I went to Chicago to attend our annual meeting. I asked them to include the orphanages and schools where I had worked. My sisters became involved and expanded the support to others as well."
She had opened his floodgates and he continued for more than hour talking about his family. When he finally stopped talking, she had nothing to say, there was nothing she could say, she had made her decision and began to glow. She turned her face away, but the glow wouldn't go away. She wanted to be by herself. She stood, walked to her horse, and mounted, but before she could ride, "Did that satisfy your curiosity?"
He stood and walked toward her. Reflexively, she turned to answer and saw that smile on his face. "Mr. Smith, don't ask a question, just tell me why you are smiling."
"I'm smiling at something more precious than gold."
"And what is that, Mr. Smith?"
"A good woman. A good woman to man is more precious than gold."
He held his hands up to her, she dismounted into his arms. "My answer is yes, JC."
She thought he would crush her as his arms coiled around her. He held her tight for a long time. When he relaxed his grip he kissed her, she responded with equal fervor. She was twenty eight and he was thirty five when they were married the following spring. His entire family came by train the week before the wedding. They were married in the mining town and traveled to Nowhere the next day for a week long reception.
It was the largest wedding either village ever had or would ever have. The guests didn't refer to her as a beautiful bride, they referred to her as a radiant bride. From the day of their engagement, she glowed every time JC came near. They were a pleasure, for the astute observer, to watch. They reflected and reinforced the energy from one another and infected everyone nearby.
Their eyes sparkled, their faces glowed, and their movements were sprightly and when anyone greeted them with, "How are you today?"
"We are blessed and we give thanks everyday."
They honeymooned in a hidden valley cabin. They rode to the fourth step and watched the sun rise, then returned for breakfast and a nap. After dinner, they went to the fourth step again to watch the sun set behind the mountains and the moon rise over the valley.
It was an idyllic honeymoon, a beautiful beginning to a very satisfying marriage. Their partnership was like a team of horses, each contributing and each accepting and appreciating the other's contribution.
She traveled with JC when he became restless, until their first child was born, nearly three years later. Then she encouraged him to go by himself. She knew he couldn't stay away very long and he couldn't. They moved to Chicago when the first child was ready for school. She continued to be a bookkeeper, but now it was for the family. Some family businesses failed, but the rest continued to prosper and new ones were added each year. JC's generation added more to the family fortune than any other generation. JC and Gertrude were uncanny in choosing new opportunities and the rest of his siblings were equal to operating them.

Return to Headless Table of content

L04V07 After Dinner

"Jane, while I will give the pet rock to your brother, I don't want you to feel you are not a part of our tradition. The women of our family have always participated, in fact during some generations the women carried the family. Some of our in-laws suffered culture shock. At first they couldn't believe a woman could make a recommendation and that the men actually listened and took them seriously."
Jane was grinning because, recently, she gave her first report to the family. "Don't worry about the rock, grandpa, he can have the rock. Aunt Jane is going to give me Gertrude's necklace on my twenty first birthday. I know about the women grandpa, grandma told me the stories about them. Her stories were more romantic, but they were tame compared to the stories you told her about yourself before you were married."
"Dad a romantic? I don't believe it."
"Your story about Gertrude agrees with the story grandma told, but you forgot to mention the saying about change and how it helped her understand JC."
"Your grandmother has told you something I have not heard, tell me about it."
"After their second child was born, Gertrude noticed that JC was not as restless as before. Then she remembered the saying 'change scares us' and she realized that the saying didn't apply to JC, he thrived on change, he became restless when his life was routine. The growing children provided sufficient change to satisfy him. Now she understood and could predict when he would become restless."
"Very interesting, that explains why he started so many businesses and put someone else in charge after they were viable.
Over the years, a logging road was built from the valley where the mines were to the sixth step, the mines and the lumber mill were closed. The railroad around the tongue was abandon after a more direct line was built from the north to the sixth step. After that, most of the families left Nowhere, only the horsemen and a few farmers remain.
Nowhere is a ghost town, but our company continues to raise horses, cut lumber, and" James, who was slumped in his chair, bolted upright, slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand, a familial gesture, "And that's where we are going, isn't it? We are going to stay at the Box Canyon Dude Ranch. It took a long time for it to sink in."
"Yes. Our company restored the mine, the smelter, the two camps, and Nowhere to their original condition and converted them into a summer resort. We will stay at the mining town hotel and visit the mine and the smelter, followed by a trip to the logging operation.
The next day we will take our train to the base of the first step and ride a stage coach to Nowhere. We will even walk up the incline. Some people fly into the Hidden Valley air strip on top of the fourth step, but that takes all the mystique out of the trip.
From the Nowhere Inn, if you like, you can ride around the tongue and visit all the places in the story."
"Neat O," said Jimmy.
"After that we will ride to the Hidden Valley Retreat and then to the Box Canyon Dude Ranch for a short stay."
"Thanks for the story grandpa, I can't wait until you give me the rock."
"Me too, grandpa. I enjoy your stories, I would like to hear another, but I'm hungry."
"How about the rest of you? Would you like to get ready for dinner?" Everyone one agreed. After dinner, James and I took a stroll through the train, while the children and the women went to the observation car to watch the sun set. We were going to walk to the front of the train, to the end of the train, and return to join the others until bed time.
We talked with anyone who would talk with us. We entered a nearly empty coach car and struck up a conversation with a young couple seated near the center of the car. They asked us to sit and talk until they went to dinner. James sat next to the window and I took the aisle seat. It was a typical tourist conversation, about where we were from and where we were going and where we had traveled before, it was pleasant. A while later they excused themselves to go to dinner. James said, "Let's sit a while longer and let our dinner digest."
"OK."
"This morning you mentioned a man named Doc and how our lives are intertwined. What did you mean."
"Do you remember my uncle on my fathers side."
"The recluse, who slept with a forty five under his pillow?
I only heard a few stories about him, he died before I was born."
"I forget, he died before I went into the service, you couldn't have known him. There wasn't much to tell, he didn't talk very much and I only met him a couple of times.
He served in the special services during the war. After the war, he created a security service for Doc. He brought so many people into the organization he was called 'The Recruiter'. He told me a brief story about the accident that killed Doc.
It was one of those accidents where the first car passes without incident, the second gets clobbered, and the third can only pick up the pieces. I still can't believe it, I became a friend of Doc's woman, well much more than a friend, she was very special. I didn't realize how special until she left without saying good bye.
That's what I meant about our lives being intertwined. I often wonder what conclusions Doc would have reached had he known about systems. He described our condition as being in four levels, ignorance, knowledge, understanding, and wisdom. If he had know about systems I wonder if he would have used the same words."
"What are you talking about?"
"Doc would have been pleased to know Gertrude and JC, they were his kind of people."
"You are leading up to another story, OK, tell me the story."
"It's much to long to tell before we meet the others."
James looked out the window and I looked around the car. A few people came and went and a few returned from dinner. A man entered and sat in the first seat inside the door, something about him disturbed me. Someone came from behind and sat in the seat across the aisle, instinctively, I turned to look at them. When I turned back to the man at the end of the car, a sledgehammer hit me in the chest taking my breath away, I passed out. I never heard the sharp bark of a small caliber pistol followed by the boom of a service revolver.
I became conscious of a pain in my chest and a very loud ringing sound. Then voices above the ringing sound. The voices were saying, "Are you OK?"
Slowly my vision cleared and the first face was that of an old friend. "Rick!" I smiled.
"Boy am I glad to hear you talk again."
I turned my head, my wife was sitting across from me, tears running down her face, James was still at my side, clenching my right hand, I was leaning against him.
"You're a lucky man, Mr. Smith," said a doctor standing to the right of Rick, "You'll be sore for a while and it may hurt to breath and to talk, but you will be just fine. I can't detect any broken ribs, but I think you should have them x-rayed as soon as possible. Your vital signs are all normal. Let me check you eyes and ears." When he finished, "I can't do anything more for you. Call me if anything changes," and he left.
My wife moved forward and took my other hand, tears continued to run down her face. "I just lost my breath, what's everyone so upset about?
Broken ribs? Fill me in Rick."
"You're a very lucky man, Jim. Very lucky indeed.
Lefty's right hand man tried to kill you. He won't try again. The nightmare is over Jim, it's finally over.
I've trailed him ever since he was released from prison. I tried to catch him violating the law so I could sent him back and at the same time he was trying to get us without being caught."
My wife let go of my hand and motioned Rick to sit. He took the seat next to my wife. She move forward and took my hand again.
"I was a half a car behind him when he entered this car and was at the door when he shot. He was going to shoot again, but I didn't let him have a second chance, I opened the door and shot him in the back before he could pull the trigger. He never saw me, to bad.
DAM IT.
I wanted him to know I got him."
Rick had an odd look on his face; anger, sorrow, sadness, relief, and joy all at the same time. Tears filled his eyes and he turned to the window.
No one said anything for a while, then Rick turned to me. "I picked up his pistol and ran to check you. People in the car tried to get out and people from other cars were trying to get in. I told a man at each end to stop anyone from entering. They did until the conductors came and ushered everyone out and locked both doors. They found a doctor and brought him to check you. He's helping them put the dead man in the luggage car.
When I reached you, I thought for sure you were dead. I felt for a pulse, I couldn't find any and then very faint. I put my hand on your chest and I could feel you breath. I can not describe what I felt at moment."
His eyes filled with tears and the odd look came again. "I could see a hole in your shirt, but no blood. I unbuttoned your shirt and opened it.
I almost fell on the floor when I discovered a hollow point bullet imbedded in your pet rock. You are a lucky man, Jim, very lucky, all the timing, everything when your way." He turned his head to the window and shook his head for several seconds. James and my wife asked many questions at the same time.
"Whoa," said Rick, one at a time.
After a pause, James said, "Does this mean, all the stories dad has been telling me, all these years are true, even the one about you and dog, mom?" Softly, "Yes," Rick nodded agreement.
The trauma of this event and the ramifications of all the past stories were to much for James, the blood drained from his face, he sat very ridged, then he put his head between his knees to keep from fainting.
"Where are the children?" From behind me a conductor said, "I'll get them."
We spent the next several hours calming and reassuring each other. The conductors told the other passengers what had happened and that everything was back to normal. They let people return to the car with instructions not to disturb us and reassigned the seats we occupied.
Eventually, the children and their mother went into the observation dome and we went to the club car. We drank soda water and coffee and told stories. Rick and I brought each other up to date. James asked mom to tell her story, Rick concurred.
"I'm not up to it."
I tried to talk, but it hurt.
"I think James should know the background, let me tell him." We nodded agreement and Rick began.
With Jim's help, I sent Lefty and four of his men to prison. Lefty knew who was responsible because I never appeared at their trial, he vowed revenge. Jim was my backup and prevented my premature demise several times, only Lefty and his back up man knew Jim.
With time off for good behavior, Lefty and three others got out of jail early. By accident they discovered our undercover office. By that time only a few people on our staff knew lefty or any of his men. One of them came in to request our services and no one recognized him and he was able to 'case the joint'.
Lefty planned an all out attack on our office on a Monday morning. Usually everyone was present Monday morning, but Jim's plane was late. As he walked across the lobby, Lefty's backup man made a cardinal mistake, a look of recognition crossed his face when he saw Jim. Jim knew something was wrong because he didn't know him.
He turned and went back out the revolving door, with the backup man on his heels. He made another mistake by not anticipating what Jim would do. Instead of going out he kept going around and pushed as hard as he could. The increase in speed caught him off guard, he stumbled and fell out the door.
Jim ran across the lobby and pulled the fire alarm before the backup man could catch him. The flood of people coming out of the building pushed them into the street. Jim moved with the people, caught up with the backup man, and hit him with his pet rock.
When the firemen and police arrived, Jim took the police to him, told them what he had done, and what he thought was happening. The firemen stayed outside while Jim and the police went in.
Most of us were sitting at our desks drinking coffee and getting ready for the new week when the fire alarm went off. Lefty and his men were already in our reception area. I ran into the office hallway, I was going to check the elevator and stairway for smoke. Two men were walking toward me, I knew something was wrong and dove back into my office, two bullets slammed into my leg, now I walk with a limp.
My momentum cause me to slide across the floor next to my desk. I opened the bottom drawer, got my gun, and shot them. They weren't very cautious or smart, they ran directly into my office and didn't expect me to be on the floor.
Gun shots were almost continuous. I dragged myself to the door. With my head and gun on the floor, I moved into the hallway. I shot everyone I didn't recognize. With the hallway secured, the gun fire stopped. I yelled to my people. A few responded and I directed the counter attack. Some how two escaped, the rest were killed.
We lost our custodian, our receptionist, and two undercover detectives, plus myself and two others wounded. The media had a field day. Our pictures and names were everywhere for the next two weeks. Jim had to testify at the backup man's trial. With our cover blown and our identities known, neither of us could continue our undercover work. We were reassigned to desk jobs, which neither of us could stand. In our spare time we tried to find the two who got away, we were unsuccessful.
Unfortunately, they were, they followed Jim to your home. No one notified us when Lefty's right-hand man was released from jail. They waited until the backup man was released before they made their move.
I was waiting for the backup man, too. He led me to the others, but they must have spotted me because they split and I ended up following Lefty's right-hand man while the other three went to Chicago.
Jim resigned after the backup man went to jail and never returned to New York, I retired after the other three were killed at your place, but I continued to follow Lefty's right-hand man.
Many years passed without having a reason to put him back in jail and at the same time trying to make sure he was never in a position to kill either one of us. Those years just came to an end. I don't know whether he knew you were on this train, I didn't, until I ran to check who he shot.
Can you imagine my shock?"
After a moment of silence, "Can you tell your story now, mom?"
"No, in awhile maybe."
No one felt like talking, so we ordered dessert. The children and their mother came a few minutes after the table was cleared. The children were convinced to try to sleep, they reluctantly agreed. Another half hour passed saying good night. James joined his wife to tuck them in bed. We chit chatted until they returned. After a few more minutes of small talk, my wife said, "I think I can tell my story. Do you remember when it happened, James."
"Do I!
Jane and I were at grandma's summer home and when we returned, I had never seen you so upset and you wouldn't tell us why. We asked how you got all those scratches and bruises and you never answered.
I will never forget that.
Later, when dad began to tell his stories, I would not or could not believe him."
"I couldn't tell you, I couldn't talk to your father about it. I relive that day, every time I think about it. Please understand and forgive me. I'm having trouble now because of what happened that day, but I need to talk even though it's difficult, it seems to help some how." Her voice was calm.
You left on Monday and on Friday my ordeal began. It was a lovely day and my first day without morning sickness in a long time. I felt good and decided to work in the flower garden after breakfast. I receive the shock of my life when I came in for lunch.
Three of lefty's gang were waiting for me. One was behind the door and closed it very quickly to prevent Dog from coming in. "We don't want to hurt you or the dog unless you don't cooperate," another said. "He will open the door part way and let the dog's head in, we want you to put two leases on him. If you do that no one will get hurt."
To emphasize his point, he put the barrel of his revolver against my nose. At first I was to terrorized to move, I could only shake my head. They gave me a leash and opened the door just enough to let Dog's head in.
I grabbed his collar and snapped the leash. One of them grabbed it and pulled it tight. Another gave me a second leash and after it was snapped he told me to throw it out the door. One of them ran out another door and around the house and picked up the other lease.
Dog tried to attack the minute they opened the door wider, but the men moved out of reach in opposite directions. They followed me to the pen with Dog between them. They threaded one leash through the fence from the inside and pulled Dog tight to the fence and removed the one on the inside. They shut the gate and latched it and made sure he couldn't get out, then they removed the last leash. Dog began to bark the minute he was released.
On the way back they told me to fix lunch, "Make it a big lunch, we have a long time to wait." After lunch they told me I could do anything as long as I did it within their sight. I did the dishes and the usual household chores. I relaxed a little because they were jovial and didn't interfere with anything I chose to do. I will never know if they would have done what they did if I hadn't decided to change my clothes. Later, I thought it was a grave mistake.
One went with me and stood in the bedroom door. After a few minutes, he yelled to the others to come and watch. By the time they arrived I was finished. "She's a real looker, you should've seen her."
"Do it again, honey."
"What?"
"Change your clothes for us, we want to see, too." I hesitated, but he waved his pistol.
They laughed and applauded. When I finished I returned to the living room. They followed at a distance and made comments about how I walked and how my hips moved. Their mood didn't change, but they watched every move I made. I tried to keep busy. I knew sooner or later I would have to go to the bathroom and I was afraid of what might happen.
Finally, I could wait no longer, they followed, but stayed outside the door. "Look how she spreads out on the seat. Wouldn't you like to grab that."
"I sure would."
I tried to leave, but they wouldn't move from the doorway. If I was going to leave, I had to squeeze between them, as I did they fondled me.
"You're right, she's a real looker and feels good too."
When I reached the living room, one said, "I think we should have some entertainment to pass the time. What'd you think?"
"What'd you have in mind?"
"She could dance for us, maybe a little striptease."
I grew tense, but when nothing more was said or done, I picked up a magazine and tried to read. When they discussed how they were going to get Jim, who was going to do what and when, their mood changed. They became nervous and paced the floor. It was mid afternoon and they had a long time to wait.
The first lookout came in before he was relieved, "Take my place." He found a deck of cards and played solitaire. The other stopped pacing the floor when he saw our record player. He searched for a record, started the record, grabbed my arm, pulled me to my feet, and said, "let's dance." I didn't think I had a choice, so I danced with him. The next record, he held me closer, the next, he fondled me, and the next, he unfastened my clothes. I told him to stop several times, but it was like talking to a brick wall.
"Leave her alone."
"Keep your mouth shut."
I knew what was going to happen, but I didn't know what to do about it. He picked me up and threw me over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and carried me into the bedroom. When I didn't do what he wanted, he hit me so hard I was driven to the floor. When he finished he told the other it was his turn, they argued. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but when they stopped the other came into the bedroom and that is how they spent their last hours, taking turns raping me.
Minutes before Jim came home, the lookout came in yelling, "If that damn dog doesn't stop barking I'm going to kill him."
"Stay in here, you can't hear'm in here. I'll go out."
He was halfway between the tool shed and the dog pen when Jim drove up the driveway. He was out of position and couldn't warn the others. He circled the tool shed and stood behind and between two tall lilac bushes with his gun ready. Jim saw Dog jumping up and down and instead of driving to the house, he stopped at the dog pen. He thought it odd and asked Dog, "What are you doing in the pen? What's the matter boy?"
When Jim opened the gate, Dog took off on a dead run toward the house. He came to a quick stop when he picked up the lookout's scent. He sniffed in both directions and circled around the tool shed with his nose to the ground.
Jim walked toward the house, he though Dog was chasing an animal. Before Jim passed the tool shed, dog saw the lookout, he was so intend on getting Jim he never heard Dog come pounding up from behind. Dog's front feet hit him in the middle of his back, slamming him to the ground. His gun went flying and Dog rolled between the bushes.
Jim cleared the tool shed as Dog made contact. He ran to the man and hit him with his pet rock when he moved. Dog got up, sniffed him, and ran to the house. Jim picked up his gun and ran after Dog. Jim knew no one else was outside because Dog had circled the house twice before he reached the back door.
The one playing cards at the kitchen table looked up when Jim opened the door. It was the last move he would make. Later, Jim said, "It sounded like a bear trap snapping shut." Dog moved across the kitchen and had him by the throat before Jim was inside the door. Jim hit him with his rock and when he didn't move, Dog let go.
Before Jim could move, Dog tore into the hallway, when the one on top of me said, "What was that noise." He straightened his elbows to lift his body up and raised his head to hear better and turned his head toward the door as Dog came flying through the air. Instinctively, I covered my face with my arms and curled into a ball as soon as I could. I could hear jaws snap when Dog missed, a scream when he didn't. I could feel Dog clawing at anything and everything in order to get a better footing from which to attack. Jim ran into the room and dove on top of me. He knew better than to try to stop Dog.
When the only noise was growling, Jim got up to see the aftermath. "Don't look." He pulled a sheet from the bed and covered both because Dog would not let go. Jim held me for a long time. When our pulse was near normal, he told me to shower and put antiseptic on the claw wounds. He removed his torn clothing and did the same. After dressing, we went into the living room and sat on the couch. Again we held each other for a long time.
Jim slapped his forehead with his hand, "I forgot the one outside. "He jumped up and ran out. Dog let go and ran after Jim. He was still where they had left him. A small old lilac stump had pierced his eye when he hit the ground and he died from shock. The one in the kitchen suffocated on his own blood. The one in the bedroom bled to death. Jim didn't even attempt to stop his bleeding, K-nine puncture wounds covered his body plus large gaping tears in his flesh.
Jim rolled each one in a sheet and dragged them into the garage and laid them side by side. We sat at the kitchen table and tried to stop from shaking as our adrenaline levels subsided and rationality returned.
Suddenly it occurred to both of us, "We should call the police." We looked at each other and laughed almost to hysteria. I was nearly hysterical when Dog came into the bedroom. I wanted them to stop, but at the same time, I didn't want them to stop. I was frighten out of my wits by not knowing what they would do went they did stop. Conflict like that does funny things to the mind.
To add to my trauma, I aborted the next morning. It took more than a month to recover my composure and Dog wouldn't let me out of his sight. Even now, I'm not completely healed. Jim never told anyone one what he was doing, he couldn't, it would be to risky.
In a way I'm glad he didn't tell me. I was a very naive young woman. Things like that were not supposed to happen in my world, I was completely unprepared, but then again I don't know how anyone could be prepared.
Surprisingly, when Jim began to tell his stories some ten years later it helped me recover. I don't understand it, but it did." She stopped and obviously she was not going to say any more.
"Thanks mom. I think I can replay my tape and set the record straight. Forgive me dad, for not believing you."
"It's OK son, I understand." After a long pause, I said, "It's obvious to me that we have talked ourselves out, but none of us can sleep. I need to talk even if it hurts."
James said, "Tell us the story about Doc."
"Good idea. I've never told the story before and it doesn't involve any of you, maybe it will take your minds off present events and let you sleep. Are you agreeable?" My daughter in-law said, "Let me check on the children first, but don't start without me, I want to hear your story dad."
Everyone got up and walked around or went to the bathroom or both. One by one they returned and their comments indicated agreement with my assessment of the situation. Maybe they didn't want to hear my story, but they didn't have anything else to do and they couldn't sleep. When everyone returned, I began.

Return to Headless Table of content