Ranger's Quest- The Beginning

by Edward Gates

  “You can stay here for a bit. At least until you get yourself settled in. I’ll get somebody to bring up some furniture and clean this up,” Max said.

  Charlie nodded. “I appreciate this.”

  Max walked to the window and struggled to slide it halfway open. “Need to get some air in here,” he said as he dusted off his hands.

  Charlie set his valise and bedroll on the floor, walked to the window and beheld the view. The room overlooked the grounds of the garrison where a small contingent of Confederate troops were billeted. He breathed deeply and took in the fresh autumn air. The smell of dried leaves and sweet grass mingled with the aroma of hardwoods burning in the various stoves around town. The scent brought a smile and a sense of contentment to Charlie, reminding him of Clemens’s farm. He missed that family. He wondered how Jed had reacted to his departure. Suddenly he raised an eyebrow when he realized that he just had a memory from 1862 instead of from his previous life. He smiled. He must be getting more acclimated to this life than he thought.

  “You can leave your things here. They’ll be all right. Let’s go downstairs,” Max said as more of an order than a request. They left the building and Max walked right into the general store below Charlie’s new room.

  The clerk greeted them. “Mr. Weatherby! My, my, it’s real good to see you here, sir. Real good. What can I do for you today?”

  “I need a few things, Ben. Is Maggie available?”

  “Yes, sir. She’s in the back sorting through the new fabric you brought us. You want me to fetch her?”

  Max shook his head. “Not necessary. Just have her go up and clean that empty room upstairs. This here’s Charlie. He’s going to be staying in that room for a while.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Charlie. Name’s Ben Fricker. First time in Fort Smith?”

  Charlie shook Ben’s hand and nodded.

  “Well, welcome. We’ll get that room all fixed up for you nice and proper.” He turned to Max. “Me and my boy’ll move some furniture up there.”

  “We’re going over to The Main and get some lunch. Charlie will need that room when we get back.”

  “It’ll be done. Don’t you worry about that, Mr. Weatherby.” As Charlie and Max left the building, Charlie heard Ben call to his family.

  “The Main?” Charlie asked.

  “The Hotel Main on Walnut Street. It’s just up from the warehouse and they serve a real fine lunch.” Max paused for a moment. “I figure we can have our little talk over lunch.”

  The thought of food made Charlie’s stomach start to rumble. However, his curiosity was piqued about the conversation Max mentioned.

  “What do you want to talk to me about?” Charlie finally asked.

  Max didn’t answer. He turned the corner at Walnut Street and just before they reached the hotel entrance, stopped and looked at Charlie. He furrowed his brow and Charlie saw a hardness in Max’s eyes that he had only seen once before, when they met.

  “I’ve been thinking about you. You’re a very odd man, Charlie Turlock. I don’t exactly know what to make of you. I need you to set me straight.”

  Charlie was a little stunned. He thought he and Max were becoming friends. “What do you mean?”

  “First off, you don’t talk like someone from Virginia. In fact, you don’t talk like anybody I’ve ever heard. You don’t know things that you should know, things that most everybody knows. And the things you do know, nobody else knows. Like I said, you’re a very odd man. So… you’re gonna tell me everything I don’t know about you.” He hesitated and let that last sentence hang in the air for a moment, then opened the hotel’s door. “Then I’m going to decide what I’m going to do with you.” Max turned and entered the hotel.

  Charlie couldn’t move. His chest tightened as a warm surge of fear coursed through his body. After a moment that seemed more like an eternity, he swallowed his anxiety and followed Max through the lobby and into a nice restaurant. He had no idea what he was going to tell Max. He couldn’t tell him the truth. That would be too unbelievable and jeopardize any relationship they had.

  Charlie ordered the same steak lunch as Max, although at this point he had lost his appetite. He sat in silence, sipping his coffee, wondering what he should or could tell Max. If he chose his words very carefully, he might be able to get away with actually telling the truth -- at least, most of it. They were served their lunch and Max began eating. He looked at Charlie as if waiting for him to begin speaking. Charlie wanted to stall.

  “Why are you so interested in my background? Do you quiz all your prospective employees this way?”

  Max gently tossed his fork on the table. He hesitated and swallowed a mouthful of food. “You see? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Nobody talks like you do. Saying things like ‘prospective employees’ and ‘quiz’. Where you really from, Charlie?” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, silently demanding an answer.

  “You’re right. I’m not originally from Virginia. But I didn’t lie to you because I came to Clarksville from Virginia. I was actually born in Connecticut and raised on Long Island in New York. My mother died when I was young and my father couldn’t care less about me.” He paused. So far so good.

  “I’m sorry about your ma,” Max said before he took another bite of his steak. “They all talk like you do in Long Island?”

  “Some do, I guess. You see, I’m regarded as pretty intelligent and very well educated. I graduated from two different colleges by the time I was twenty. Mostly, I studied the sciences. There are a lot of things I know from school and books and experiments that most people don’t know.”

  “You a doctor?” Max interjected.

  “No, not a medical doctor. But I’m not a farmer, or a laborer, or a tradesman, or a businessman, either. I never had to grow my own food or raise my own livestock. So there’s a lot of things you and most people out here know about that I don’t. I don’t see why this is such a big issue.” Charlie paused for a breath. “But I’m a hard worker and a quick learner and I’m willing to do anything.” He stopped and stared at Max, who nodded and took another bite of his lunch. The interrogation ceased for a moment while Max ate. Charlie picked at the carrots on his plate and took another sip of his coffee.

  “So what are you doing here?” Max finally asked in between bites.

  “Like I told you in Clarksville, I’m just trying to work my way west to start a new life.”

  Max shook his head. “No you ain’t. I don’t believe you. Somebody like you don’t just walk away from a life like yours to go west. There’s nothing out here. Nothing but trouble; trouble, danger, suffering, and misery. That’s it. Mostly, the only people that come out here are drifters or folks so down on their luck they ain’t got no other choice. You don’t know the first thing about starting over or staying alive, especially out here. No, you’re either running from something or running to something. Which is it?”

  Max was proving he wasn’t stupid or easily deceived. Up to this point, Charlie had told the truth. Maybe not in great detail, but nothing he said so far had been wrong. This was where the truth would most likely get stretched. He caught the eye of the waiter. “Can I get some more coffee?” Charlie smiled at Max. “How’s the steak?”

  Max nodded. “It’s good. You should eat yours.”

  “No. I don’t think I could eat anything right now.” The waiter brought another cup of coffee. Charlie’s mind was buzzing with thoughts of how he was going to tell Max a story that was close to the truth but also believable.

  “So what is it, Charlie? What are you really doing out here?” Max persisted.

  Charlie was getting annoyed. He decided to try a different tactic. “You know, Max, I’m not sure my life story is any of your business. I told you what you asked. There’s parts of my life that I’d like to keep personal.”

  Max stopped eating. Charlie could feel his eyes bore into him as he glared across the table at him. Max tossed his silverware and napkin on his plate and sho
ved it away from him. His face reddened as he leaned forward and folded his hands on the table. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. Okay, then.” He took another deep breath. Charlie could see that Max was not happy with his reply.

  “We’re gonna swap stories, then. I’ll go first, then you. I already told you about my interests here in Fort Smith. I told you about my family. Right now, with the Indian migration just across the river, trouble is brewing among the tribes. And with this war ramping up instead of slowing down, I got trouble all around me. I’m supposed to make sure goods get transported through all this. I am deeply involved in a very volatile business. I thought about bringing you into the middle of it.”

  His voiced raised a notch. He took another deep breath. “In Clarksville I saw that you weren’t afraid of hard work. That’s good. More than that, I saw that you were different.” He took a drink of water. “I can get any tramp to push around cargo or drive a team. Out here it’s easy to find someone who’ll do just about anything for a few wages. But, it’s not easy to find someone who can think and talk like you do and still put in a hard day’s work. Usually, smart people like you are swindlers and back-stabbing scalawags, out for their own gain. I need to know that when I turn my back you’re not gonna put a knife in it!”

  He folded his arms and sat back in his chair. “You understand now why I’m asking this?”

  Charlie nodded, uneasy but a little proud of the abilities Max saw in him. “Okay. I get it.”

  “Now you,” Max ordered.

  “You’re right about me. I don’t know how to survive. But I’m learning.” Charlie rubbed his swollen cheek. “Some lessons have been harder than others.” He looked Max in eye. “But I promise you, I’m not a cheat or a back-stabbing… whatever-you-called it.” His anxiety left him and his appetite returned. He took a bite of his lunch. “The truth is, Max, I am on the run, but it’s not what you think. I’m not running from the law or the army. I’m running from my father and his thugs. My father is trying to find me and bring me back to New York.”

  Max shrugged his shoulders as if Charlie’s statement was not an issue. “Your father! Is that all? I wouldn’t worry about that, Charlie. I got a lot of connections that can protect you. We can take care of anybody that comes looking for you.”

  “It’s not that simple. Trust me,” Charlie said. He lowered his voice and leaned closer to Max who leaned closer in as well. “A while ago I was working in my father’s… shop. There was an accident and somebody died. My father blamed the whole thing on me. I got scared and angry and I ran away. I headed south and ended up in Summersville, Virginia, where a family took me in. They were good people. I earned my keep there by apprenticing with the owner, who was a blacksmith. They taught me a lot about the blacksmith trade, working the land and especially the ways around animals.” Charlie sat back. It wasn’t precisely true, but it was close.

  Max sat back in his chair. Charlie thought he saw a twinge of disappointment cross his face. “You ran away from home?”

  “Yeah. I’d never been in any trouble before. I didn’t know how to handle it. Never had to stand up for myself. I figured the best place to learn how to do that would be out on my own.”

  Max shook his head in disbelief. “You telling me that you left New York for Virginia with this war going on? And nobody stopped you?”

  “I know it sounds unbelievable, but that’s it.” Charlie hated lying, but he knew that at this point the actual truth would be worse.

  “Why’d you leave Virginia, then? Sounds like you had it pretty good there.”

  Charlie nodded and smiled as he remembered the Andersons. “I did have it good there. I never thought about leaving. I planned to stay. I didn’t know it at the time, but my father sent out a couple of his assistants to track me down and bring me back. I never expected them to find me.”

  “But they did,” Max interjected.

  “Yeah. They sure did. Showed up on Anderson’s farm one day.”

  “And you ran away from trouble again.”

  “No. No. Not this time. I stood up to them. I pulled a pistol on them and told them to go back and tell my father I’d die before I go back. I told them I’d kill them if they showed up again. They left.”

  Max smiled. “Well, now that’s the kind of backbone I’m looking for. So why’d you leave?”

  “I couldn’t take the chance of getting the Andersons involved in my problems. They’d been too good to me. If those fellows came back, I wanted to be gone so they’d leave that family alone. I had to leave to protect them.”

  “What are you going to do if they show up here?” Max asked.

  Charlie looked at Max. “I don’t know.” He paused in thought. “If they show up here, I guess it’s going to end here… one way or another.”

  Max smiled. “Sounds good. You’re hired.”

  The interview was finished.

  “I’m hired? What am I going to be doing?”

  “Well, first off, you’re gonna ride along with the drivers as their guard.”

  Charlie’s eyes widened. Guard?

  “When you learn the routes and how we do business, I may move you to your own team or maybe move you to something else. Depends on how you work out.”

  After lunch, the two walked from the hotel and stopped at the corner of Garrison Street.

  “Looks like that ice worked for you. Your face don’t seem as big. I can see your eye, now.”

  Charlie smiled. “Yeah. It’s starting to feel a little better.”

  “You got any other weapons other than that hand-cannon you’re carrying?”

  Charlie shook his head. “Not really. Just a knife.”

  “Well, I’ll give you a rifle to use on the trip. How about spare clothes?”

  “Just these and some dirty old work clothes.”

  Max nodded. “Well, they won’t do. Head back to your room and get some rest. Ben and his family should have it all set for you. If you need anything, just ask Fricker.” Max paused. “We start at first light, Charlie. I’ll see you then. We’ll get you all set up come morning.” He left and headed back toward his warehouse.

  Get me set up for what? Charlie thought.

  23

  Dressing the Part

  Charlie had one of his best night’s sleep since arriving in 1862. When he’d returned to the room, following lunch with Max, it had been thoroughly cleaned and a single, iron-framed bed, a cane-back chair, a small dresser and a washstand had been moved into the room. The bed was a welcomed treat after spending more than two months sleeping on a hay bale, a dusty floor or a smelly old cot. He removed his coat, hat and boots, and climbed in bed. He fell asleep right away and remained asleep until the following morning, when he awoke to the sounds of the soldiers marching across the street. Charlie remembered Max saying first light. It was light out. He was late for his first day on the job. He wondered whether there were alarm clocks in this era.

  Charlie leapt from the bed, slipped on his boots, grabbed his hat and coat and ran down the stairs. As he rushed through the door he almost ran into Max, who was standing outside the general store talking with Ben Fricker. Ben was busy setting up displays on the sidewalk in front of his store.

  “There you are,” Max said. “I was just about to come up and get you.”

  “Morning. Sorry I’m a little late,” Charlie said, putting on his hat.

  “No matter. Ben’s just getting started himself.” Max turned to Charlie. “I want you to go in with Ben. He’s going to get you outfitted for your trip. I told him what you’ll be needing.”

  “My trip?”

  Max nodded. “Right now I got two wagons being loaded up with mining equipment that’s going to the Colorado Territory. You’re going with it.”

  “When?”

  ‘Now,” Max said. He put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder and let out a laugh. Charlie failed to grasp the humor. He was nervous. He didn’t feel he was ready to take a long trip through the wilderness. He could feel that famil
iar tightening in his chest.

  “You all right?” Max asked.

  Charlie answered with a half-hearted nod.

  “Go on in with Ben. He’ll get you all taken care of. When you’re done, pack your gear and come over to the warehouse. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the crew. Leave your old dirty clothes on the bed. Maggie will wash them while you’re gone.” Max turned to leave but had an afterthought and turned back to Charlie. “Pack just what you need. Ben will take care of anything you leave here.” Charlie watched him head down Garrison Street toward his warehouse. Ben ushered Charlie into the store and began pulling items off the shelves.

  Charlie looked at all the new gear spread out on his bed. There was a heavy blanket, a new wide-brimmed hat, gloves, two new shirts, a vest, two pairs of pants, four pairs of socks, eating utensils, a non-military holster, and some personal care items. He was now a man of property from this era, albeit modest property. He had his own items from 1862, even though Max paid for them.

  A bath was in order but there wasn’t time. He removed the clothes that he had worn for two days, washed himself, shaved, then dressed in his new clothes. Charlie pulled on his old boots and dumped his dirty old work clothes and the clothes he’d bought in Clarksville on the bed. He packed his personal items, some shot, his powder horn and extra clothes in his valise. The time belt would have to go with him; he knew he couldn’t leave it behind and take the chance of it falling into someone else’s hands. The canvas bag holding the belt was stashed in the bottom of the valise.

  Charlie put on his new hat and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the washstand. He stopped and studied his reflection. For the first time he saw someone from the Old West staring back at him instead of a twenty-third-century misfit. Excited by this transformation, he pulled his shoulders back and stood a little taller. The gun! He strapped on his gun belt and slipped his pistol into the holster. Now his ensemble was complete, and he was giddy with pride as he looked in the mirror again. He marveled at the tough western man staring back at him.