By Dan Cunningham
“Art is something I really enjoy. I think it has added to my life,” says Barbara Busey.
Barbara is the current artist on display at Old Trail Gallery in the John W. Rawlings Heritage Center, Sixth Street and Bent Avenue.
Her display of artwork includes the first, tentative drawings she made of a dog, people, a windmill and a house.
“My mother saved them,” she says with a laugh.
Her art has obviously come a long way, judging by her more recent attempts to depict a pioneer home, a small town street and the colorful scenery around Ghost Ranch in New Mexico.
Still, her progress in art was delayed because there was no formal art instruction in Las Animas in the days of her childhood and her teen years.
It wasn’t until she enrolled at Western State College in Gunnison that she took her first formal class. She eventually graduated with a major in education and two minor degrees in both art and English. Her college years had an interruption, though, when she married Ben Millikan of Manzanola while she was a sophomore. He was a Naval pilot and was killed in an accidental plane crash while doing recreational flying with his squadron. His death left behind a widow, and two children.
Barbara returned to Gunnison to finish her degree and embark on a teaching career. She began teaching elementary school, but after a few years were able to teach art to both elementary and high school students.
While teaching in Gunnison she met and then married Larry Busey, of Grand Junction.
“He was in the business department at Western State. He had a little boy, so we had three children to take care of.”
While raising their blended family and working, their lives began to travel down a different path.
Barbara had always been interested in the American Indians and her husband became interested in the culture and the people.
They met a Navajo Indian and together they all opened Two Rivers Trading Post in Gunnison, which offered native art and crafts. The Busey family was happily operating this business on the side until the late 1960s.
“We saw this advertisement for an Indian trading post down near Shiprock, New Mexico. We went down to see it.”
They liked what they saw. Barbara quit her job; Larry quit his job. Their children were out of high school and so the couple moved to Fruitland, N. M.
“The store was established in at least 1886. We do not know for sure how far back it went,” Barbara relates.
“We liked it. We liked the climate. We got along real well with the Navajo. We increased the business quite a bit. About 95 percent of our trade was with the Indians.
Their new trading post venture offered food and dry goods, supplies and hardware.
“We pawned. There was a slaughterhouse out back. We made a lot of friends.”
When her husband Larry died in 1989, her son Paul Millikan ran the business together for another six years until it was sold in 1995.
Barbara moved back to her hometown of Las Animas, where she still had two sisters, though both are now deceased. One was Martha Lowe, the mother of former Bent County Democrat owner Jack Lowe, and Katie Bono.
Today, Paul Milliken has a construction business in Farmington, N. M. His sister, Janice Lloyd, lives in Honolulu where her husband recently retired after serving as a U. S. Marshal. Barbara’s stepson, Tony Busey, lives in New York and works for a large international construction company.
Barbara has one grandchild.
She continued her art education by taking classes when she was in New Mexico. Since returning, she has taken classes at Otero Junior College. Barbara also went on to art trips sponsored by OJC — one was to Italy and the second trip, a longer one of three weeks, took in the British Isles and ended up Paris.
Since moving back to Las Animas, Barbara has also vacationed at the Ghost Ranch, a 22,000-acre spread owned by the Presbyterian Church. The ranch offers visitors the opportunity to stay for one or more weeks while taking classes in art, music or religious studies.
Barbara currently works in watercolor and pastel and her exhibit includes a collage.
“I like to draw. I do not do oil painting any more.”
Locally, Barbara has taught a watercolor class but her own production has slowed because she is quite busy as the art guilt president and as a member of the Pioneer Historical Society.
Her interest in art is wide ranging.
“I like to look at it. I enjoy doing it. I like to read about it. But art is more of a hobby now.”
She confesses she has never entered any serious competition — except for the Eads art show.
Her favorite subject matter includes landscapes, old buildings and flowers.
But looking back on her life as a whole, she sums up:
“It has been interesting, to say the least.”
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Bud Spurgeon
By DAN CUNNINGHAM
HASTY — Bud Spurgeon was being interviewed when a report of a truck fire caused him to race out of Valley Grocery.
A neighbor’s pickup truck had caught on fire a few blocks away in Hasty, where he lives.
A few weeks later he was out on the road, driving a truck, and would not be back until after Christmas.
Obviously a busy man who is rooted in his community as well as the wider world, Bud has an interesting hobby — creating art from wood, barbed wire and other materials he finds innovative uses for.
Some of his work is on display at Valley Grocery, such as the mockup of the store itself as well as some rural scenes.
On the front wall is a sample of his barbed wire art.
Bud said he took up wood carving “just to use a knife.”
Though his creations are for sale, he does not advertise.
If he did, demand would pick up and he would feel “pressured to produce,” he confessed.
He prefers to express his art as a hobby.
On the day he was contacted, Bud walked into Valley Grocery holding two of his latest creations, baskets made from lariats.
He also has made doghouses, play houses and model barns.
“I have won grand champion at Bent County, Lamar, Holly and Eads,” he said.
Bud also gives a new slant for recycling, because much of the material he uses for his art is picked up at auctions and sales.
Some of his work is for sale at Valley Grocery, otherwise you’ll have to catch up with him.
HASTY — Bud Spurgeon was being interviewed when a report of a truck fire caused him to race out of Valley Grocery.
A neighbor’s pickup truck had caught on fire a few blocks away in Hasty, where he lives.
A few weeks later he was out on the road, driving a truck, and would not be back until after Christmas.
Obviously a busy man who is rooted in his community as well as the wider world, Bud has an interesting hobby — creating art from wood, barbed wire and other materials he finds innovative uses for.
Some of his work is on display at Valley Grocery, such as the mockup of the store itself as well as some rural scenes.
On the front wall is a sample of his barbed wire art.
Bud said he took up wood carving “just to use a knife.”
Though his creations are for sale, he does not advertise.
If he did, demand would pick up and he would feel “pressured to produce,” he confessed.
He prefers to express his art as a hobby.
On the day he was contacted, Bud walked into Valley Grocery holding two of his latest creations, baskets made from lariats.
He also has made doghouses, play houses and model barns.
“I have won grand champion at Bent County, Lamar, Holly and Eads,” he said.
Bud also gives a new slant for recycling, because much of the material he uses for his art is picked up at auctions and sales.
Some of his work is for sale at Valley Grocery, otherwise you’ll have to catch up with him.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Limited Focus
By Daniel K. Cunningham
Artist, journalist, poet
Limited Focus
A UFO
flew on by
flashing lights
in darkened sky.
But I did not see
what there was to see
my eye, trying to cope,
peered through a telescope.
Artist, journalist, poet
Limited Focus
A UFO
flew on by
flashing lights
in darkened sky.
But I did not see
what there was to see
my eye, trying to cope,
peered through a telescope.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Bill & NancyLong
In just the past year, either separately or as a couple, they have been honored by McClave FFA, Las Animas 4-H and the youth chamber of commerce.
With hard work and astute judgment and risk taking, they have prospered in the community, proving the “Acres of Diamonds” tenet that you need not roam to distant lands to find diamonds. You can find prosperity by staying close to your roots.
Their partnership and marriage casts a long shadow too, starting in their senior year of high school, when they became best friends.
But Bill laughingly reveals that his future relationship with Nancy was foreshadowed one day at the gun club as he was setting up clay pigeons for the shooters.
“Three kids came over and told me their sister liked me.”
The sister was Nancy, one of the children of Bill and Bonnie Miller, who lived near the gun club grounds.
While Nancy was a top 10 student and cheerleader, Bill, the son of Jodie and the late Lane Long, “mostly worked.”
Bill says Nancy “worked hard in school and I worked hard at working.
“I played football my freshman year. I worked for farmers in the summer and did not play sports. My father made it clear if I did not do sports I would find some other things to occupy my time.”
When not farming, he worked for Jenkins Motors in the mechanic and body shops and the parts department.
This work ethic traces back to when he was in the seventh and eighth grades.
In those days Las Animas juniors and seniors could study a variety of vocational programs offered by Otero Junior College. Bill studied in the welding program.
After high school Nancy went to work for a local attorney, Oakley Wade, while Bill worked for local farmer Loyde Gardner.
“I had a pretty good job and we were dating so I thought I could go to school (college) later,” Nancy recalls.
Instead of continuing their education, Bill and Nancy married and worked at their local jobs until 1976, when they moved to central Kansas. Bill rented a farm from Nancy’s grandparent. She got a job with the Marion County Attorney and Bill took on two jobs. He farmed during the day, then used his welding skills working the night shift at a trailer manufacturer.
Nancy says they would pass each other in the afternoon, Bill going off to his second job while she was coming home for the day.
In 1978 the Longs returned to Las Animas, where Bill opened a full-time welding and machine shop. Nancy went to work at the VA hospital, one of the then 600 employees there.
Three years later the Longs fortune took a decided turn upside when they bought the local school bus service from Bob and Elva Foulk.
At the time there were 10 bus routes and Nancy quit her job at VA to work with Bill.
“She drove buses, did the books, cleaned buses — whatever had to be done,” Bill said.
As Bill always kept busy, the school buses were put to heavy use in the summer as well.
“We did a lot of work for the Boy Scouts…that’s what we did in the summer.”
The Foulks had also picked up scouts, mostly from the East Coast, at the Denver Airport and transported them to Philmont Ranch, the sprawling Boy Scout adventure camp in New Mexico.
The Longs expanded this operation by also booking side trips for the scouts to other western destinations to extend their Philmont experience.
Bill and Nancy aggressively grew the summer operation.
“We could make as much money in 60 days as we made during the school year,” Bill recalls.
“It got to the point where you had to cross state lines and you needed permits,” Nancy notes.
“It was more difficult to get permits from the state of Colorado than it was the federal government,” Long explains.
The Longs eventually quit the lucrative summer operation when Colorado became too difficult to work with. The operation also took a hit when a bus and a state roadside maintenance vehicle collided.
Bill said the state admitted they were in the wrong, but under state law maintenance vehicles are not liable for damages even when culpable.
So the Longs had to pay for the damages out of their own pocket.
“We would have six to eight buses between Denver and the Cimarron — it was a lot to keep track of and worry about,” Bill recalls.
Not that the Longs didn’t have something else to keep them busy.
About this time Bill was part of a local partnership that wanted to establish a fast food franchise in Las Animas, and the one they decided on was Dairy Queen.
Approved for a franchise, the partnership started work in 1994 — Nancy’s brother Tim did the construction — and they opened just in time for Santa Fe Trail Day.
By 1998 it became apparent that it would be best for one of the partners to take it over entirely.
“We were willing to buy or sell,” Bill notes. In the end, the Longs bought out the partners and they have both managed it since then.
The Dairy Queen is located on the Duckwall’s parking lot. Duckwall’s is in the former Safeway Grocery store, a building that Long purchased when the grocer closed down its local outlet. He leases the store building to Duckwall’s parent Alco, which is planning to vacate the building and establish a larger Alco retail store on north Bent Avenue.
Bill and Nancy like investing in real estate.
“Real estate usually holds its value. In addition it is a source of income that does not take a lot of your time,” Bill adds.
He notes there was a builder who constructed an 8,000-square-foot building with seven rental units that went into foreclosure.
“That was an especially good deal. The mortgage on it was $345,000. We got it for $100,000,” Bill says. He adds that he was surprised there were no other local bidders for the property.
The Longs also purchased an adjoining complex and fixed it up, raising their rental portfolio in Las Animas to 11 units.
He credits two factors for his success.
“Hard work is part of it and using good judgment.”
In 2006 the Longs sold the bus business to the Las Animas school district.
This has freed Bill up to work almost full time on county business.
First elected to the county commission in 2004, he is the current commission chairman, which he treats like a full time job.
“Since we do not have a full time county administrator, I am putting in more time than I was. We do not have the resources for the staff we had three, four years ago,” he said.
Last spring he used his tractor to work alongside Carl Lindauer and Cole Miller over a weekend to get one of the ballparks in condition to open for the season. Last winter, he sometimes drove snowplows to clear streets and driveways.
Bill admits he no longer hunts, fishes or skis.
“I like to go out and do physical work. That is like a hobby.”
Likewise, Nancy was very busy with the three Long children when they were growing up. She was active in the parent-teacher organization and is currently very active in St. Mary’s Catholic Church.
They live in a landmark home on Sixth Street. It was built in 1908 and they are the fourth family to own it.
The Longs plan a one hundredth anniversary party for the home next year.
The three Long children include Lana Gardner, a teacher in Las Animas. She is married to Greg Gardner, whose grandfather Bill once worked for.
Brian, who is in the bee business, recently returned home from California for a short stay before he goes back to help farmers pollinate their crops this winter and spring. His wife is Hannah.
Daughter Erin is married to Mitch Kendrick.
The Longs have four grandchildren.
“We believe in the rural lifestyle and the rural community,” sums up Bill.
“We think rural America is important.”
To that end, he also serves as chairman of the Southeastern Colorado Water Conservancy District, which is seeking to build the $300 million water conduit that would bring fresh mountain water to the local communities along the Arkansas River. It was authorized in the original Frying Pan – Arkansas legislation that created a series of dams more than a half century ago.
Bill is still hopeful that the recently canceled coal-fired plant proposed for Bent County by Xcel will eventually be built.
“We will not rely on just wind energy and renewables.”
He also envisions Bent County becoming a transportation – distribution center if the Colorado Department of Transportation realizes its dream of building a rail line that would bypass Denver and move rail freight down to the Las Animas area where a Burlington Northern branch line turns south toward Amarillo.
The rail line could also interface with the under used Highway 50.’
He thinks Bent County would be a logical distribution center with the convergence of rail and highway traffic.
“In the ‘70s only two trains a day went south (from Las Animas). Now there are more than 20.
“Twenty-eight trains a day go through Las Animas.”
While dreams of water and transportation may take a while to realize, Bill and Nancy continue to live out their dreams in Las Animas.
With hard work and astute judgment and risk taking, they have prospered in the community, proving the “Acres of Diamonds” tenet that you need not roam to distant lands to find diamonds. You can find prosperity by staying close to your roots.
Their partnership and marriage casts a long shadow too, starting in their senior year of high school, when they became best friends.
But Bill laughingly reveals that his future relationship with Nancy was foreshadowed one day at the gun club as he was setting up clay pigeons for the shooters.
“Three kids came over and told me their sister liked me.”
The sister was Nancy, one of the children of Bill and Bonnie Miller, who lived near the gun club grounds.
While Nancy was a top 10 student and cheerleader, Bill, the son of Jodie and the late Lane Long, “mostly worked.”
Bill says Nancy “worked hard in school and I worked hard at working.
“I played football my freshman year. I worked for farmers in the summer and did not play sports. My father made it clear if I did not do sports I would find some other things to occupy my time.”
When not farming, he worked for Jenkins Motors in the mechanic and body shops and the parts department.
This work ethic traces back to when he was in the seventh and eighth grades.
In those days Las Animas juniors and seniors could study a variety of vocational programs offered by Otero Junior College. Bill studied in the welding program.
After high school Nancy went to work for a local attorney, Oakley Wade, while Bill worked for local farmer Loyde Gardner.
“I had a pretty good job and we were dating so I thought I could go to school (college) later,” Nancy recalls.
Instead of continuing their education, Bill and Nancy married and worked at their local jobs until 1976, when they moved to central Kansas. Bill rented a farm from Nancy’s grandparent. She got a job with the Marion County Attorney and Bill took on two jobs. He farmed during the day, then used his welding skills working the night shift at a trailer manufacturer.
Nancy says they would pass each other in the afternoon, Bill going off to his second job while she was coming home for the day.
In 1978 the Longs returned to Las Animas, where Bill opened a full-time welding and machine shop. Nancy went to work at the VA hospital, one of the then 600 employees there.
Three years later the Longs fortune took a decided turn upside when they bought the local school bus service from Bob and Elva Foulk.
At the time there were 10 bus routes and Nancy quit her job at VA to work with Bill.
“She drove buses, did the books, cleaned buses — whatever had to be done,” Bill said.
As Bill always kept busy, the school buses were put to heavy use in the summer as well.
“We did a lot of work for the Boy Scouts…that’s what we did in the summer.”
The Foulks had also picked up scouts, mostly from the East Coast, at the Denver Airport and transported them to Philmont Ranch, the sprawling Boy Scout adventure camp in New Mexico.
The Longs expanded this operation by also booking side trips for the scouts to other western destinations to extend their Philmont experience.
Bill and Nancy aggressively grew the summer operation.
“We could make as much money in 60 days as we made during the school year,” Bill recalls.
“It got to the point where you had to cross state lines and you needed permits,” Nancy notes.
“It was more difficult to get permits from the state of Colorado than it was the federal government,” Long explains.
The Longs eventually quit the lucrative summer operation when Colorado became too difficult to work with. The operation also took a hit when a bus and a state roadside maintenance vehicle collided.
Bill said the state admitted they were in the wrong, but under state law maintenance vehicles are not liable for damages even when culpable.
So the Longs had to pay for the damages out of their own pocket.
“We would have six to eight buses between Denver and the Cimarron — it was a lot to keep track of and worry about,” Bill recalls.
Not that the Longs didn’t have something else to keep them busy.
About this time Bill was part of a local partnership that wanted to establish a fast food franchise in Las Animas, and the one they decided on was Dairy Queen.
Approved for a franchise, the partnership started work in 1994 — Nancy’s brother Tim did the construction — and they opened just in time for Santa Fe Trail Day.
By 1998 it became apparent that it would be best for one of the partners to take it over entirely.
“We were willing to buy or sell,” Bill notes. In the end, the Longs bought out the partners and they have both managed it since then.
The Dairy Queen is located on the Duckwall’s parking lot. Duckwall’s is in the former Safeway Grocery store, a building that Long purchased when the grocer closed down its local outlet. He leases the store building to Duckwall’s parent Alco, which is planning to vacate the building and establish a larger Alco retail store on north Bent Avenue.
Bill and Nancy like investing in real estate.
“Real estate usually holds its value. In addition it is a source of income that does not take a lot of your time,” Bill adds.
He notes there was a builder who constructed an 8,000-square-foot building with seven rental units that went into foreclosure.
“That was an especially good deal. The mortgage on it was $345,000. We got it for $100,000,” Bill says. He adds that he was surprised there were no other local bidders for the property.
The Longs also purchased an adjoining complex and fixed it up, raising their rental portfolio in Las Animas to 11 units.
He credits two factors for his success.
“Hard work is part of it and using good judgment.”
In 2006 the Longs sold the bus business to the Las Animas school district.
This has freed Bill up to work almost full time on county business.
First elected to the county commission in 2004, he is the current commission chairman, which he treats like a full time job.
“Since we do not have a full time county administrator, I am putting in more time than I was. We do not have the resources for the staff we had three, four years ago,” he said.
Last spring he used his tractor to work alongside Carl Lindauer and Cole Miller over a weekend to get one of the ballparks in condition to open for the season. Last winter, he sometimes drove snowplows to clear streets and driveways.
Bill admits he no longer hunts, fishes or skis.
“I like to go out and do physical work. That is like a hobby.”
Likewise, Nancy was very busy with the three Long children when they were growing up. She was active in the parent-teacher organization and is currently very active in St. Mary’s Catholic Church.
They live in a landmark home on Sixth Street. It was built in 1908 and they are the fourth family to own it.
The Longs plan a one hundredth anniversary party for the home next year.
The three Long children include Lana Gardner, a teacher in Las Animas. She is married to Greg Gardner, whose grandfather Bill once worked for.
Brian, who is in the bee business, recently returned home from California for a short stay before he goes back to help farmers pollinate their crops this winter and spring. His wife is Hannah.
Daughter Erin is married to Mitch Kendrick.
The Longs have four grandchildren.
“We believe in the rural lifestyle and the rural community,” sums up Bill.
“We think rural America is important.”
To that end, he also serves as chairman of the Southeastern Colorado Water Conservancy District, which is seeking to build the $300 million water conduit that would bring fresh mountain water to the local communities along the Arkansas River. It was authorized in the original Frying Pan – Arkansas legislation that created a series of dams more than a half century ago.
Bill is still hopeful that the recently canceled coal-fired plant proposed for Bent County by Xcel will eventually be built.
“We will not rely on just wind energy and renewables.”
He also envisions Bent County becoming a transportation – distribution center if the Colorado Department of Transportation realizes its dream of building a rail line that would bypass Denver and move rail freight down to the Las Animas area where a Burlington Northern branch line turns south toward Amarillo.
The rail line could also interface with the under used Highway 50.’
He thinks Bent County would be a logical distribution center with the convergence of rail and highway traffic.
“In the ‘70s only two trains a day went south (from Las Animas). Now there are more than 20.
“Twenty-eight trains a day go through Las Animas.”
While dreams of water and transportation may take a while to realize, Bill and Nancy continue to live out their dreams in Las Animas.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Should the Quarter Horse go back to its roots?
Thoroughbreds like Three Bars & Depth Charge and other often nameless sires have had a positive impact on the Quarter Horse breed.
But 50 years ago the Quarter Horse was 14 ' 2 and 1200 pounds, and now it can range from that size to a 17 hand jumper.
Granted, Thoroughbreds themselves come in all shapes and sizes from 14 ' 3 Northern Dancer to 17 hand Lemon Drop Kid.
But a larger question is temperment. The original Quarter Horse raced on Saturday and then carried kids around the yard bare back on Sunday. And these could be stallions.
Should the QH return to its foundation quarter horse roots? Or is a continuing infusion of hot blood, mostly to pacifty the racing crowd, the way to go?I know the issue is always decided by money. I know we need money to survive, I recall when Western Horseman, for example, focused on the horse. Now it is more like an equipment catolog. AQHA runs two publications - reflecting this split personality.
This was also posted on Yahoo answers
But 50 years ago the Quarter Horse was 14 ' 2 and 1200 pounds, and now it can range from that size to a 17 hand jumper.
Granted, Thoroughbreds themselves come in all shapes and sizes from 14 ' 3 Northern Dancer to 17 hand Lemon Drop Kid.
But a larger question is temperment. The original Quarter Horse raced on Saturday and then carried kids around the yard bare back on Sunday. And these could be stallions.
Should the QH return to its foundation quarter horse roots? Or is a continuing infusion of hot blood, mostly to pacifty the racing crowd, the way to go?I know the issue is always decided by money. I know we need money to survive, I recall when Western Horseman, for example, focused on the horse. Now it is more like an equipment catolog. AQHA runs two publications - reflecting this split personality.
This was also posted on Yahoo answers
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
He Wanted To
He Wanted To
He wanted
to paint.
Not a Fence.
A Picture.
A gray-green shore
or a pink petal
poking out from
a landscape breast.
He wanted to.
But never really
got around
to it.
He wanted
to paint.
Not a Fence.
A Picture.
A gray-green shore
or a pink petal
poking out from
a landscape breast.
He wanted to.
But never really
got around
to it.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Away from it all. chapt. 1, 1st draft
Rough beginning of a current novel.
Away from it All
Chapter ONE
Cody threw the empty beer can out the window. He was reaching into the cooler for another Coors when he noticed something seemed to be moving near the two trees about 15 yards from his pickup.
Though he felt a bit groggy from the beers, he felt no fear. But he wondered if someone else was out here.
Clumsily, he opened the pickup door and eased out of the seat.
Overhead, stars seemed to blaze in the clear, Nevada sky. He had gotten out of the truck earlier to admire the Milky Way, something you could not see in Las Vegas, which was over the horizon more than a hundred miles away. Its glow was faintly discernible on the low horizon.
His boot crunched some twigs and brush as it landed heavily on the ground. The sound was amplified by the total silence of the night and seemed to fill the air as much as the stars filled the sky above.
A dark shape was motionless near the trees and Cody seemed to remember seeing a large, dark rock or bush when he had driven to this spot, about 100 feet from the highway and behind a ridge that, together with a rock outcropping on one side and a smoke tree across the way effectively sheltered him from view when the occasional car or truck sped by, headlights briefly flaring the night landscape into focus before fading back to dark.
Nothing was moving but the sudden blazing streak of a shooting star a bit north and to the east. It quickly flickered out after leaving a short trail.
The air was silent, motionless. Warm for much of the day under a cloudless sky, the air had a twinge of cool typical of late April. It felt good on his bare face and arms, which had felt warm in the truck.
He felt the pressure in his groin from the beers he’d already drank, so he stepped farther away toward a shrub.
Looking around, seeing nothing, he unzipped and started to piss.
He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of relief as the pressure subsided and the shrub received a sprinkling and fertilizing at the same time.
His eyes shut, he did not notice the dark shape move, the same shape that he’d focused on earlier. Then it settled again as part of the nearby landscape.
Cody turned back toward the truck and the door that hung open. Peering back at the nearby landscape, it somehow seemed that the dark shape seemed a little farther away from a nearby bush, but he figured that was because his perspective and angle had changed when he stepped away from the truck and changed his position.
He definitely was alone.
That's ‘s why he was out here. To be alone. To get away from Lana. It was her time of the month again and she had been bitchy as usual the past few days as her mood built up.
Nag, nag. That was all she did lately. He should get a better job. They needed to move on. They were wasting time out here.
At first, Lana had liked this part of the desert. Its wide expansive loneliness had seemed welcoming relief to the hustles and hassles they experienced every day back in Vegas. She was going to paint some artwork they could sell. And his job at the crossroads service station was enough to support their simple life and the cheap trailer they rented.
Cody didn‘t want to say it out loud, but her paintings weren‘t really that good. They were okay, but he did not think he would pay much money for any of them, at least most of them. But occasionally one was real nice, and it invariably ended up on the wall of the trailer. When she got five or six like that, she said, they would go to Reno and see if her friend Mora would show them in her gallery.
He liked Mora. He noted how she smiled broadly at him and would always give him another smile and a quick wink whenever Lana turned away. He wondered what Mora’s deal was anyway. A pretty woman like her, seemingly living without a man in her life. But he knew she seemed normal and was not a woman who preferred other women, because if she had Lana would have said something because she always did whenever she knew of a woman like that.
But Mora was definitely a mystery to Cody and he sat back in the seat and thought about her and the nice little place she had in Reno. Jobs were pretty easy to get around there and if he had a nice place to stay for free, that would be something to think about. He wondered what Mora meant by those smiles and those winks. Was she just being friendly, or flirty, or was it something else?
He pondered all this with a fuzzy mind as he snapped open another beer and took a swallow. He wasn’t enjoying this beer as much. He was getting full. And he wondered if Lana worried about where he was. She could not go to the bar over at Tenney’s because he had the truck. She was probably in bed, either asleep or awake waiting for his return. When he did get there, she would seem to be asleep even if she was awake because he knew she played that game. Though he did not wander off much alone at night, not like he had tonight. Usually they just had supper and then watched tv for a few hours. They did not talk as much as they used to, not as much as when they had first moved here three months ago, after quitting their jobs in Vegas because she wanted to get away from it all for a while. And he had wanted to get away too.
He liked the quiet of the open desert. It reminded him of the open spaces back in western Kansas, where he’d grown up.
Cody gulped down half the beer, then he stopped. He was full of beer. He needed some beer nuts or something else -- but all he had brought was the six-pack of Coors, nestled in ice inside the cooler.
Maybe he should start back.
While his dull, muddled mind mulled what to do, he did not notice the dark shape getting closer to the truck, outside the passenger window of his truck.
He felt very tired, very heavy and weary. Cody wanted to start the truck and start back for home. But his eyes closed and his hand fell away from the key in the ignition.
A few hours later the sky to the east blazed purple and then pink and then yellow as the sun reappeared in its relentless daily sojourn over the desert.
The occasional passing motorist did not spot the tan truck just out of view, behind the ridge that separated the highway from a little open flat spot between an outcropping of rock and smoke tree on the other side of the clearing.
The doors of the pickup were closed and the windows were rolled up as they had been last night.
Two beer cans lay on the ground below the driver’s window. A third partially open can of warm beer rested in the cup holder. Inside the cooler, ice slowly melted into water and three cans of Coors settled toward the bottom at a glacial melting pace.
Where the dark shape had been a few hours earlier there was now nothing. Nothing at all.
And Cody was no where to be seen.
No where.
Away from it All
Chapter ONE
Cody threw the empty beer can out the window. He was reaching into the cooler for another Coors when he noticed something seemed to be moving near the two trees about 15 yards from his pickup.
Though he felt a bit groggy from the beers, he felt no fear. But he wondered if someone else was out here.
Clumsily, he opened the pickup door and eased out of the seat.
Overhead, stars seemed to blaze in the clear, Nevada sky. He had gotten out of the truck earlier to admire the Milky Way, something you could not see in Las Vegas, which was over the horizon more than a hundred miles away. Its glow was faintly discernible on the low horizon.
His boot crunched some twigs and brush as it landed heavily on the ground. The sound was amplified by the total silence of the night and seemed to fill the air as much as the stars filled the sky above.
A dark shape was motionless near the trees and Cody seemed to remember seeing a large, dark rock or bush when he had driven to this spot, about 100 feet from the highway and behind a ridge that, together with a rock outcropping on one side and a smoke tree across the way effectively sheltered him from view when the occasional car or truck sped by, headlights briefly flaring the night landscape into focus before fading back to dark.
Nothing was moving but the sudden blazing streak of a shooting star a bit north and to the east. It quickly flickered out after leaving a short trail.
The air was silent, motionless. Warm for much of the day under a cloudless sky, the air had a twinge of cool typical of late April. It felt good on his bare face and arms, which had felt warm in the truck.
He felt the pressure in his groin from the beers he’d already drank, so he stepped farther away toward a shrub.
Looking around, seeing nothing, he unzipped and started to piss.
He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of relief as the pressure subsided and the shrub received a sprinkling and fertilizing at the same time.
His eyes shut, he did not notice the dark shape move, the same shape that he’d focused on earlier. Then it settled again as part of the nearby landscape.
Cody turned back toward the truck and the door that hung open. Peering back at the nearby landscape, it somehow seemed that the dark shape seemed a little farther away from a nearby bush, but he figured that was because his perspective and angle had changed when he stepped away from the truck and changed his position.
He definitely was alone.
That's ‘s why he was out here. To be alone. To get away from Lana. It was her time of the month again and she had been bitchy as usual the past few days as her mood built up.
Nag, nag. That was all she did lately. He should get a better job. They needed to move on. They were wasting time out here.
At first, Lana had liked this part of the desert. Its wide expansive loneliness had seemed welcoming relief to the hustles and hassles they experienced every day back in Vegas. She was going to paint some artwork they could sell. And his job at the crossroads service station was enough to support their simple life and the cheap trailer they rented.
Cody didn‘t want to say it out loud, but her paintings weren‘t really that good. They were okay, but he did not think he would pay much money for any of them, at least most of them. But occasionally one was real nice, and it invariably ended up on the wall of the trailer. When she got five or six like that, she said, they would go to Reno and see if her friend Mora would show them in her gallery.
He liked Mora. He noted how she smiled broadly at him and would always give him another smile and a quick wink whenever Lana turned away. He wondered what Mora’s deal was anyway. A pretty woman like her, seemingly living without a man in her life. But he knew she seemed normal and was not a woman who preferred other women, because if she had Lana would have said something because she always did whenever she knew of a woman like that.
But Mora was definitely a mystery to Cody and he sat back in the seat and thought about her and the nice little place she had in Reno. Jobs were pretty easy to get around there and if he had a nice place to stay for free, that would be something to think about. He wondered what Mora meant by those smiles and those winks. Was she just being friendly, or flirty, or was it something else?
He pondered all this with a fuzzy mind as he snapped open another beer and took a swallow. He wasn’t enjoying this beer as much. He was getting full. And he wondered if Lana worried about where he was. She could not go to the bar over at Tenney’s because he had the truck. She was probably in bed, either asleep or awake waiting for his return. When he did get there, she would seem to be asleep even if she was awake because he knew she played that game. Though he did not wander off much alone at night, not like he had tonight. Usually they just had supper and then watched tv for a few hours. They did not talk as much as they used to, not as much as when they had first moved here three months ago, after quitting their jobs in Vegas because she wanted to get away from it all for a while. And he had wanted to get away too.
He liked the quiet of the open desert. It reminded him of the open spaces back in western Kansas, where he’d grown up.
Cody gulped down half the beer, then he stopped. He was full of beer. He needed some beer nuts or something else -- but all he had brought was the six-pack of Coors, nestled in ice inside the cooler.
Maybe he should start back.
While his dull, muddled mind mulled what to do, he did not notice the dark shape getting closer to the truck, outside the passenger window of his truck.
He felt very tired, very heavy and weary. Cody wanted to start the truck and start back for home. But his eyes closed and his hand fell away from the key in the ignition.
A few hours later the sky to the east blazed purple and then pink and then yellow as the sun reappeared in its relentless daily sojourn over the desert.
The occasional passing motorist did not spot the tan truck just out of view, behind the ridge that separated the highway from a little open flat spot between an outcropping of rock and smoke tree on the other side of the clearing.
The doors of the pickup were closed and the windows were rolled up as they had been last night.
Two beer cans lay on the ground below the driver’s window. A third partially open can of warm beer rested in the cup holder. Inside the cooler, ice slowly melted into water and three cans of Coors settled toward the bottom at a glacial melting pace.
Where the dark shape had been a few hours earlier there was now nothing. Nothing at all.
And Cody was no where to be seen.
No where.
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