Gladstone

Gladstone

by

John A Miller

copyright John Anthony Miller 2013 Smashwords Edition

Gladstone

Copyright 2013 John Anthony Miller Smashwords Edition

No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. Exception is made for short excerpts used in reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to persons living or dead is coincidental.

Cover Design by Mary C. Findley

Cover image credits: Image of woman from 1Photos.com , Coyote from Morguefile.com, old building from Kozzi.com.

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank the following friends for their participation in the writing of this book. Without their support and help this book could not have become a reality. Angie Morgan, Brian and Cathy Giles, David Argo, Gerald Britt, Jimmy and Lisa Smith, Julie Arnott, Ken and Angie Hall , Kimberly Hudson, Mary Findley, Michael and Debbie Fetty, Penny Pitman, Ron Reeves, Shawn Scott, Sonia Montini , Stefan and Uta Bresler, Stewart Bint, Walter Miller, William Hosky, and last but not least, MOM.

Part One

California Dreaming … That was the song playing on the radio as Jack Saunders drove down the two-lane road in Arizona on a nice, early spring morning. He was in a good mood as he tried to sing along with the radio and looked down at the Colorado River that separated Arizona from California, to his right. The water was so blue in the early morning sun. People on jet skis out in the middle of the river looked to be having a great time. He liked the rooster tails from the jet skis as they traveled down the river. That looks like fun.

Jack had left Colorado a week ago, once the final divorce papers were signed. He was in search of a new beginning, having given mostly everything to Melinda by paying off the house and her BMW. Plus the money in the bank should keep her going for some time. He had packed most of his belongings into the Ford Fusion and headed out of Colorado. Going south on I-25 to Colorado Springs, he took Highway 50 west toward Montrose. After driving south down to Cortez, he crossed into New Mexico, stopping along the way to take in the sights. I-40 west took him to Flagstaff, Arizona and on to Kingman. He stopped in Lake Havasu City for an extra day to enjoy the London Bridge.

Jack was in his early forties, about six feet tall, with brown, thinning hair and hazel eyes. His goal was to live somewhere with a warmer climate than the bitter cold of the Colorado winter. Almost everything Jack owned was in the trunk of his car. Jack had sold his printing business but he had to wait till after the divorce for the deal to be final. Melinda had wanted the patent for the printing process and fought Jack tooth-and-nail for it. She had no rights to it, though. Jack’s great-grandfather had come up with a way to print without ink. It could be inked, but the printing process used thicker paper and printed from the bottom of the paper up. It left a raised impression, like embossing, and even though there was no ink, the words and text were easy to read.

That style of print work was popular in Europe and the business had developed a good customer base. Jack wasn’t worried about money. He had sold the print business for a hundred thousand dollars but got to keep the patent and the original printing press. So he figured he would find a nice town to live in and start back up. The printing press was in a warehouse in Colorado. When he got settled in somewhere he could just send for it. Because he’d sold the business, he couldn’t keep his old customers. So he’d just have to get new ones.

Jack hit the scan button, but after two go-arounds of searching, he leaned over to the other side of the seat to get his CD case. He realized he had drifted over the yellow line into the other lane. He then steered to the left as the road forked. Jack was not sure what he had just done. The main road went straight south along the river. This road took him in an easterly-bound direction, and looked to be heading straight into the middle of the desert. He looked at his gas gauge. Three-quarters full. I’ll try this road for a while. I can turn around if need be. The road he was on now was made of concrete instead of asphalt.

He looked ahead, noticing the cactus and a small hill ahead. The two-lane road had no traffic on it at all and he hadn’t seen a car in either direction since he had made the turn onto this road. He looked down at his gas gauge and saw he still had over a half a tank of gas. This road has to lead to somewhere.

His water temperature started rising. He drove a few more miles and it slid over to the red side. This is not good.

Steam started coming from under his hood. He found a wide spot on the side of the road, pulled over, shut down his engine, and sat there thinking of what to do next. Great. I really need this now.

He leaned down to unlatch his hood and stepped out, walked to the front of his car, and just stared at it for a moment. A rush of steam came up when he opened the hood. Jack took a quick step back.

Great. Just great. Stuck out here in the middle of nowhere. Checking the engine compartment to see where the steam came from, he saw the broken top radiator hose. He reached in for his cell phone and flipped it open. No bars. Can this day get any worse? He kicked at the desert dirt.

A shadow flitted across the ground; too small for an airplane shadow. He turned and looked up. A hawk flew above him. He watched it for a second, until it landed on top of a cactus about ten feet away. Well, what are you doing here?

Jack and the hawk stared at each other for a minute. The hawk turned its head up and to the right, looking into the sky, and looked back at Jack. He just stared at the hawk in amazement. The hawk stared back at him and blinked. Again the hawk looked at him, turned its head upward, and stared back at him. He had no idea what was going on and had never experienced anything like this before. After the hawk made the motion a third time, Jack looked up into sky in the direction the hawk seemed to be pointing. Four buzzards circled overhead. You got to be kidding me.

He turned back to the hawk and for a moment he could have sworn the hawk winked at him. The hawk looked past Jack and made a skree sound. Jack stood there watching, puzzled, not knowing what the hawk was up to. Again the hawk made the skree sound. Jack turned his head and caught a glimmer of light reflected from the sun. A car reflection? Oh, hallelujah! Jack turned back. The hawk had gone. He looked around in the sky but it was nowhere to be seen. He turned back to the highway, just catching the faint sound of a motorcycle. He stood out closer to the road, flailing his arms. The motorcycle appeared about a hundred yards away.

Help! Help! Jack heard the motorcycle gear down. The rider gave him a wave. The motorcycle pulled onto the shoulder of the road, just in front of his car. The rider stopped the bike, shut down the engine, pushed out the kickstand, and got off the bike. Off came the helmet. With a shake of the driver’s head, long black hair flowed out from under the helmet. The dark-complexioned woman also had deep brown eyes. She wore cowboy boots, blue-jeans, and a Native-American Indian style top. She was about five feet seven inches tall and had an athletic build. Jack just stood there for a minute, shocked at how pretty she was. She reminded him of an American Indian.

Am I glad to see you.

You got car trouble?

Yes, I have a broken radiator hose.

"Yes, I would say you do have car trouble. What are you doing on this road?"

I was driving down the main road. Guess I wasn’t paying attention, and made the left at the fork. Where does this road lead to, anyway?

It takes you to Gladstone.

I have never heard of that town before. I didn’t see it on my map.

It’s not on the map. She just looked at Jack like he was a curiosity.

Let me introduce myself. Jack stuck out his hand. I’m Jack. Jack Saunders.

The lady shook his hand. I’m Susan.

I’m glad to see you, Susan.

Well, I don’t have a radiator hose on my bike, but I can give you a ride to Gladstone.

I think that would be the best thing. Let me lock up my car. He shut the hood, sat in the driver’s seat, and turned over the ignition key to roll up his window. While shutting and locking his door, Jack took a look skyward and noticed the buzzards had left. He laughed. Not today, fellas.

Something I should know about?

It’s nothing. Jack walked over to Susan’s bike.

You want the helmet?

No, I’m good. Jack swung his long legs over the back of Susan’s bike and sat down.

Make sure you keep your feet up.

Don’t worry. I will.

Susan put on her helmet. She sat down on the bike and started the motor. Are you ready?

Yes, I’m ready as I’ll ever be.

She put the bike in gear and they took off.

The ride to Gladstone only took about fifteen minutes. Jack heard Susan gear down her motorcycle and it slowed. The road looked like it went straight, but a sharp turn took you down the side of a cliff. If you were not careful you might overshoot the turn and go off the cliffside. Holy cow.

As they started down the cliff he could see the town below. It looked to be only a quarter of a mile long, if that. He couldn’t get a good view from behind Susan. He did notice how the town was in the middle of a canyon that spanned maybe half a mile. It reminded him of the Grand Canyon up in northern Arizona, but this canyon dead-ended less than half a mile west of the town into what looked like a lake or large pond. He couldn’t see how far the canyon ran in the easterly direction but continued to look around, trying to figure out if this was the main road in and out of town. Another road led out of town across the canyon floor to the east. They went around a curve again, so he turned to look down and see more.

He noticed four large warehouse-type buildings first because they were the biggest. Next came two rows of houses lined up on the east side of town. He looked out to the east and noticed green grass growing; not just desert scrub. As they went around another curve, large windmills rose into view out along the canyon floor. He counted eight -- no -- ten large newer windmills, with a few old windmills like the type used back in the old west days.

Awe filled him. As they neared the bottom of the cliff he could see corrals and some horses. More horses grazed in the grassy fields, and he did a double-take when he saw some large, shaggy animals. They were buffalo; must have been around thirty or so horses mixed in with them. The stables and old wagons looked like they were from the 1800’s. They must use those for old west day parades for tourists.

Trees grew along the edges of fields of what looked like neat rows of corn and other garden vegetables. Jack couldn’t really see too much of the town from the bottom of the cliff but he did look back to see how steep the cliff was. He felt about an inch tall, standing in a three-foot-square box with one end cut out of it.

Susan slowed down as they came into town. She geared down her bike and passed a big sign for Gerald’s Garage next to the large warehouse buildings. Susan pulled into the garage parking lot, stopped the bike, and turned off her motor. She turned to Jack, who was still looking around and hadn’t moved.

Get off so I can put the kickstand down.

He swung off the bike as Susan put down the kickstand. Gerald will take care of you.

I really do appreciate this.

At that moment a tall man came out of the garage. Hello, Susan. Who is your friend?

I picked him up about ten miles out of town. His car has a broken radiator hose, so I gave him a lift.

Jack turned to the man and offered his hand. I’m Jack Saunders. Susan, here, was my savior today.

The two men shook hands. It’s nice to meet you, Jack Saunders. I’m Gerald Britt.

Well, Mr. Saunders, nothing more I can do for you today, so you take care now. Susan smiled, sat down on her bike, started the motor, and sped away from the parking lot.

Interesting woman, Jack said. Gerald stared at him for a moment.

"So, you got a radiator hose problem. Come inside