Choking In A Dream
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The second time he saw her was at dinner, sitting at the far end of the table with another man and his wife. She wore an attractive dress, but it was wrinkled and she had forgotten to do up the bodice. The woman’s hands were resting on her lap; she seemed comfortable as a bird in its nest, but her face was stiff.
When they rose to leave, the man held out his hand for the guest. He made no comment about her attire. As soon as they were seated again, Mrs. Smith went to get the main course.
Mrs. Smith looked at me when I walked by, and her eyes lit up, but then she frowned. “I hope you won’t think this rude,” she whispered when she came back to the table, “but your coat looks too big.”
“It is. I’m just coming down from Wyoming. It’s a long way from here to there, and my clothes must be much bigger than they used to be.”
“That’s odd.”
“You’re right,” I agreed.
I thought I should have felt awkward being the only one at the table wearing a hat. No one else seemed to notice it. Then I realized why—they didn’t wear hats.
Mrs. Smith got a little more personal after she finished serving the food. “How are your boys?” she asked.
“My boys? I’m not married yet,” I told her.
“Oh, dear! You don’t seem very old. Of course, you could be married already.”
“If I am, it would be a private marriage,” I said.
She took a sip of water, put her glass down, and looked me in the eye. “We’re all Christians here,” she said. “Don’t let that fool you.” She turned and went out the back door. That’s when I saw what a pretty girl she was. I wondered if she would marry the man at the end of the table, and how the woman looked at her.
Then I had an odd dream. In the middle of a long hall, I saw myself with my coat open and no shirt on. My bare chest looked as pale as my skin. I walked through the hallway and entered a bedroom where two women sat in a rocking chair. They were looking at me, their mouths hanging open. Then I woke up.
***
The third time he saw her was in the dining room the following morning. She had chosen to wear a dress, but it was a rather plain one, and I wondered if the man with her thought it was odd for her to be wearing pants. Maybe he would ask her about it later.
But then she wore an attractive blue coat over a dark-blue dress. As I walked by, I noticed it had a flap down the front and buttons on each side of the collar. The jacket fit her nicely and I envied her for wearing a hat.
I felt like I was in a fishbowl when we went outside for the morning chores. One thing I noticed: none of the ranch hands seemed to mind being underfoot. I knew they probably weren’t used to seeing a black man at the ranch, but they didn’t look at me as if I should feel out of place. At least not at first.
They were working hard, but I got the impression they worked that way because it was their job. There wasn’t anything special about the cattle they were herding. It was just cattle, like cattle everywhere.
I was shocked when I saw the cowboys walking toward us. They had saddled four horses and rode off without saying a word.
“Where are they going?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Mr. Smith answered. “The foreman wanted to get away from here today, so he’s taking his men along.”
“What do you mean ‘foreman’?” I asked. “You’re the foreman, aren’t you?”
He hesitated, looked at the ground, then said, “Yes, but I’m just a hired hand. This place belonged to my family, but then there was a feud between the ranchers and they came here and killed my father and older brother.
The ranch is still ours, but we can’t afford to run it anymore, so I came back to Montana to try to find someone who would buy it. I figured I’d put my money into gold and go west. But I never expected to end up as a hired hand.”
“How long have you been back?” I asked.
“Almost two years now.” He shook his head. “It’s not the same.”
“But you’re doing all right,” I said.
He smiled. “This place isn’t doing well, but we’re getting by.”
I was glad he could laugh at something like that. I couldn’t imagine what life must have been like for him in his younger years, and I wondered if he ever imagined having an affair with a woman half his age.
“I’ll be sorry to see this place close down,” I said, looking at the ranch. “It’s a beautiful area.”
“Montana is a great state, but it doesn’t have the population or resources to support too many ranches.” He pointed to a ridge. “If you look at the hill on the other side of that valley, you’ll notice there’s a gap between it and the other hills.
That’s because the river that feeds into Lake Michigan flows through here. We use water from the creek that runs around the ranch to keep our cattle well-fed.”
I had noticed the canyon. It seemed as though the land on either side of the canyon were closer to the lake than to the ranch. The day before, we had gone around the entire ranch once. Now I was back to the beginning, seeing the canyon again, but from a different angle.
As we rode, Mr. Smith talked about how they fenced off certain areas and put up fences. If you came upon the fence, it meant there was a ranch on the other side. It reminded me of how I would go through the fence line where the sheep roamed to watch them graze in the spring and summer. There were more hills and fewer trees, but the valley looked the same.
The cowboys returned. One rode up to us and said, “Sorry we left without saying goodbye, boss, but there were some things that needed doing.”
Mr. Smith waved the man off and gave him a friendly pat on the back. The other three rode back toward the main corral.
“What kind of work do the others do?” I asked. “Are they all working for you?”
“Most of them are.” He shook his head. “It’s not the easiest job, but then they don’t complain much.”
That didn’t mean it was an easy job, and I wondered what he’d expected me to tell the sheriff. He must have thought it strange I hadn’t spoken to the local law.
“You don’t look like a rancher,” I said. “At least you don’t look like this.”
I motioned to the ranch house and barns behind us. “Where did you learn to rope?” I asked.
He gave me an amused look. “My family wasn’t always ranching, you know.”
“Do they still live in Montana?”
“No, but they still come here once or twice a year. They own the property around here.”
“So you were raised somewhere else?”
He shrugged. “Not really. It just happened. My family moved away when my father died and we started running this place. Then they came back and bought more land.” He chuckled. “You could say the ranch has grown by leaps and bounds.”
“Did you go to school in Montana?” I asked. “Maybe even to the university?”
He nodded. “My older brother went there to study engineering, so I figured I’d try that as well. But then I got married.”
“That was a lucky girl,” I said.
He laughed. “I’m sure she thought so.”
I had to laugh myself. “What about your wife?”
“She’s a doctor, and I guess she’ll stay a doctor. She likes teaching, too.”
“Why don’t you want to do that?” I asked, wondering why he hadn’t gone into his field.
“I was studying something different,” he said, then smiled. “But now I’ll have to go with what my wife decides to do.”
We rode on.
The sun was setting over the mountains, sending up its last rays as it set behind the distant ridge. The air had become cooler. I knew it wouldn’t be long before the night was cool enough to warrant putting on an extra sweater or jacket.
“Have you ever been to Chicago?” I asked Mr. Smith.
“I’ve seen pictures of the big buildings, but no. It looks nice in those photographs.”
“It’s beautiful at Christmas time. We usually spend it with our parents.”
I wanted to tell him more about the city, but there were times when you shouldn’t ask people about their lives. I had learned that lesson the hard way.
“Why don’t you come to Montana and visit us sometime?” He motioned to the ranch house and barns. “Come see our place. You could even stay the night with us.”
“It doesn’t look like we would have much to offer,” I said, but I didn’t mind sleeping on a pallet on the floor of the kitchen. That was how I’d slept with my parents. My mother had always insisted on having a fire burning in the fireplace during the winter so we could have some heat in the house. She didn’t like being cold. But I wasn’t about to say that out loud.
“I don’t think we have any more work to do around here,” Mr. Smith said.
That didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed the canyon, but I figured he had. If we’d driven another mile, we would have come upon the fence line. Now we had gone too far. I was beginning to realize that Mr. Smith thought the canyon was part of the ranch. The nearest house was not on the other side, and there would be no one in the area to hear us if we made any noise.
“We can go ahead and finish this up,” I said. “Then we’ll ride back home.”
He looked relieved. “You won’t mind riding through the woods, will you? I’m not used to horses anymore.”
I tried to hide my surprise. I knew Mr. Smith had ridden when he was younger, and I wondered what brought him to Montana now. I also had to wonder if there was someone he wanted to marry. There had been a time when I never thought I’d get married again. That had changed.
“Of course not,” I said. “Come on, then, and let’s take a shortcut.”
We headed toward the trees and the canyon. We were just about to pass the edge when I stopped and dismounted. Mr. Smith followed me to the fence. Then I paused for a moment, wondering whether I should tell him where he was going. It wouldn’t hurt to show him the fence line, but I didn’t want him to find out anything else.
The wind had picked up, sending leaves scattering as it whipped along the canyon floor. The air was getting colder. I turned to Mr. Smith, who seemed to be admiring the distant mountains. “It must be beautiful to see in person.”
He nodded, then glanced down at the canyon. “You can see a lot of things from here.”
I had to ask. “What?”
“Animals,” he said. “You can see deer, elk, and even bighorn sheep. They sometimes come this far into the valley because there are no predators around. You’ll have to go down there sometime. But you might be in luck since we’re here now.”
He motioned to the fence.
I was beginning to wonder what was so special about this canyon. Mr. Smith continued, “It’s the best place to see the sun rise and set. Sometimes there are thunderstorms that happen after the sunset.”
“Thunderstorms?” I asked.
He nodded. “There are a lot of lightning strikes. Once, my father took me down to watch. We stayed all night. I remember it was cold, and we both ended up sleeping on our coats.”
Mr. Smith’s eyes glistened with tears as he smiled. I couldn’t believe someone could feel such a strong emotion over the simple sight of lightning striking the ground. I thought about the time when my sister had gotten struck by lightning and how scared I’d been. The fire and smoke had risen higher than the nearby trees. It must have killed her instantly. I tried to block out the memory.
“That’s sad,” I said.
Mr. Smith nodded. “Yes, it was.”
“Maybe I’ll take you there someday,” I said.
Mr. Smith looked startled for a moment. Then he nodded but seemed to change his mind. He walked to the edge and glanced down the canyon. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful? You should do it sometime before you die.”
He didn’t sound like someone who feared death. “I don’t think that’s in my plans.”
“No,” he agreed, but he seemed to be talking to himself more than to me. “I don’t either, but I guess you never know.”
Mr. Smith went back to the fence line. The wind picked up and sent more leaves fluttering about. He leaned forward, staring at the canyon floor. His hand brushed against the fence, then moved to the top rail. “It looks like rain.”
“We might have to ride out before the storm hits,” I said.
He nodded. “I hope we’re not caught in the forest during the storm.”
We were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. I wished I’d asked Mr. Smith what brought him to Montana now. Instead, I wondered whether I would ever hear that question. I had to remind myself that I wouldn’t. We said goodbye and headed toward the horses.
***
“Are you sure this is where you want to go?” I asked.
“We’re here now. We might as well do it.”
I rode next to Mr. Smith in the woods, which was no easy feat. Our horse had begun to get restless after so long. We passed one of the canyons and soon came upon a small clearing with a tree that looked like it had been struck by lightning.
The tree stood at the edge of the clearing, swaying slightly in the wind. It reminded me of my sister. I’d never thought to see another tree like her, but she always did stand out.
“Look,” Mr. Smith said. “The tree has rings in it.”
He leaned over to examine the tree.
I saw what he was pointing at and noticed the dark lines. “Yes, that’s how you tell how old it is.”
“Not many trees have that many rings,” he said.
“Some trees have fewer. Some have a lot more.”
“You really know your trees,” Mr. Smith said. “That’s impressive.”
“It’s just something I picked up in college.”
He smiled. “So you did learn something from that fancy school.” He glanced around at the forest. “I hope there aren’t any bears around.”
“There might be some,” I agreed. I stopped and pointed to the sky. “But they’ll probably sleep through the night. And if there are, we can ride them off.”
“No,” he said firmly.
We walked on for a few more minutes. The leaves were blowing along the ground. We found a tree that looked like it had been struck by lightning. “It looks like you could touch the trunk, but don’t do it or you might get hit with electricity.”
Mr. Smith made a face.
“The lightning will come from inside the tree,” I explained. “It will flash across the bark and end up in the ground.”
“Could you tell the age of the tree based on that?” he asked.
“Probably. They’re often older than they look because they’ve been struck by lightning so many times.”
“You really know your trees.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then why aren’t you a professor at a college like your parents?”
I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. My mother would have said something about how we’d all known what I was going to say before I’d even opened my mouth. I thought about all the years of being ridiculed for not having an education. Maybe I was finally getting past that. “Maybe I am. You never know. I guess I’m still figuring out what I want to be when I grow up.”
“And now that you’ve finished your book, what will you do?”
“I don’t know.” I kicked the horse’s sides. It pulled to the right, heading toward a stand of trees. “Let’s find the ranger station.”
We rode to where we had parked the horses, took them back to the clearing, saddled up, and headed toward the ranger station. After we were gone, I glanced behind us to make sure we weren’t followed. We hadn’t seen any signs of life, so we continued on our way.
Mr. Smith stopped at the ranger station and got permission to ride into the forest. Then we turned on our flashlights and rode deeper into the woods. It seemed as if the farther we went, the more we came upon lightning strikes. The forest had been scorched. I hoped we wouldn’t encounter any of those fires. “This is really hot,” I said after a while.
“Yes, it is.” He rode on. “But it doesn’t matter. The fire won’t spread over here.”
I watched a tree catch fire and send up a plume of smoke. I was glad it wasn’t us that caused it, but I couldn’t help thinking it could have been. My mind wandered to all the times my mother had gotten angry with me for things I’d done. I didn’t see myself in her anymore. If we ever made it out of this mess, maybe I would. But that was probably wishful thinking.
***
“Come on, let’s keep moving,” Mr. Smith urged. We followed him to the ranger station, which looked like it had been struck by lightning and then abandoned. “Look at those trees. They’re burned down to the ground,” he said.
“We have to be careful,” I warned as I passed under the rickety porch. I walked along the porch and peeked into a window. “They say there are some rattlers inside the ranger station. So don’t move around too much.”
“Rattlesnakes?” Mr. Smith said. He shined his flashlight at me. “Are they poisonous?”
“Probably not, but you never know.” I was glad he hadn’t seen me put my hand on the doorknob. I stepped back from it quickly and turned away from the light. The door swung open and we entered.
Mr. Smith’s flashlight lit up a narrow room with old furniture. There were two closed doors on one side. An open doorway led to a narrow corridor.
“Can you get behind me?” I asked as I knelt to put my hands on the floor.
“Of course,” he said.
“Don’t use the flash of your flashlight until I give the signal,” I instructed.
“What signal?” he asked, confused.
I explained how to make the signal. “This way you can stay in the dark and find whatever you’re looking for. That will save us time. And I want to see what’s in the other rooms.” I waited for him to nod before I continued on. “There must have been people here at some point. They left food and clothes.”
“Clothes?” Mr. Smith asked. “Like underwear or socks?”
I glanced down at my outfit and smiled. I could answer that one. “No, but it’s still funny.”
“How do you know this?” Mr. Smith asked.
“Because I saw your underpants.” I grinned. “It looked like there had been a snake bite and I guess you were too embarrassed to be seen wearing your undies.”
Mr. Smith snickered. “You’ve got some nerve, you know that?”
“Let’s see if there’s anything of value here,” I said as I reached for the top drawer. I opened it to find an old knife and two books. One of them was a dictionary. The other was titled What It Means to Be Human. I flipped through it and found a few names and words. Nothing that seemed valuable to me.
“Is that a rattler over there?” I asked. I pointed to the corner of the room where I’d seen something move.
“That’s a big one,” Mr. Smith said. “Didn’t you notice it?”
“I didn’t think about it,” I admitted as I knelt to inspect it.
The snake slithered toward me. I backed away and raised my gun to shoot. Then Mr. Smith’s voice echoed in the room. “Stop! Wait!”
The snake stopped. I put my hand on the doorknob and closed it. Mr. Smith approached the snake slowly. “I think we can handle that one.”
“Are you sure? You’ve killed snakes before?”
“Yes, but never one this big.” He had his shotgun out.
“Do you really have to use it?” I asked.
“If we don’t kill it, the others will,” he said. “And I don’t want to come back here later and find snakes all over.”
“There must be others in there, right?” I asked.
“Maybe.”
I moved along the corridor to an open doorway. It was a small room with a desk and some drawers. The snake slithered onto the floor. I took another step and it slid toward me. “Oh, no,” I cried.
“Keep moving!” Mr. Smith urged.
I shot at the snake and it fell dead to the ground. “There’s something wrong with my aim,” I said as I ran back into the main room.
“That’s okay,” Mr. Smith said. “You probably did it on purpose so it could crawl over to that door.” He pointed to a closed door on the opposite side of the room. “Come on, let’s check it out.”
“What if it’s worse than what we’ve already found?” I whispered as we followed him.
“Better the devil we know, eh?” Mr. Smith replied.
“This is getting old,” I grumbled. “How many more rooms do you think there are?”
Mr. Smith didn’t answer, but instead pulled out a large pair of bolt cutters and inserted them into the lock. With little effort, he sliced through it. He then lifted the handle and opened the door.
We stepped inside. I blinked several times, adjusting to the darkness. There was only the faintest hint of light coming from behind one of the closed doors.
Mr. Smith approached the door. I told myself to stop worrying. That I needed to be patient. But when his hand touched the knob I couldn’t stand it anymore.
“It’s locked,” I said, as my hand touched the knob. I turned it and pushed against the door. The door swung open slowly.
Mr. Smith reached around me and snapped off the flashlight. “Stay here,” he said as he continued down the hallway.
I backed up to the wall and waited for him to return. It wasn’t long before I heard a click and the door opened again. “Come on,” Mr. Smith said as he handed me the flashlight. “You don’t need this.”
“But…”
He didn’t give me time to argue. He stepped ahead of me and continued down the hallway. “Where are you going?” I asked.
“To find out what’s in this room.”
“Why can’t you tell me?”
“Because I think it’s important that you see it for yourself.”
“This is crazy!” I cried as I followed him. “Let’s leave.”
“If we did, it might mean we never found out who was behind this all.”
“Oh, come on.”
We’d gone several rooms when the hall ended. “This isn’t it,” Mr. Smith said. “There are only two more doors in this corridor. Which do you want to check first?”
“The one on the right.” I was feeling sick about the whole situation.
“That’s a big one.” Mr. Smith chuckled. “Should I use my shotgun?”
“No,” I whispered.
“All right, then.”
Mr. Smith took his gun from its holster. He raised it to his shoulder and shot into the dark room. I didn’t hear anything, so he lowered his gun and stepped inside. He reached into his pocket for the light switch. When it snapped on, I gasped. I pressed a hand to my mouth.
A large rattlesnake lay curled around another snake. It looked like an old rattlesnake that had died and been eaten by a younger one. The snake on top of the other was as big as Mr. Smith. They were all coiled up, apparently dead.
I covered my mouth and nose. I felt dizzy and light-headed as we stepped outside. I put my head between my legs to clear my thoughts.
“Are you all right?” Mr. Smith asked.
“Yeah…”
“Come on, let’s go back inside,” he urged as he put his hand under my elbow and guided me down the hall. “There’s nothing here now.”
“That wasn’t the end of it,” I said, looking at the dead snake.
“It was probably just sleeping,” Mr. Smith replied.
“We’ve got to find out what this is all about,” I said as I followed him back to the first room. “You know it’s not normal.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s been too long. No one’s died since Mrs. Johnson.”
“What does that have to do with snakes?”
“I don’t know. Just tell me what we’re going to find inside that door. I want to know for sure if I should be worried about the other rooms.”
Mr. Smith switched on the flashlight again. He raised the gun and shot into the room. I jumped back against the wall and pressed my hand to my mouth. I couldn’t help thinking about that snake. Was it something we needed to worry about? Or did it really mean nothing?
When I stepped inside, Mr. Smith moved his arm so I could pass. As soon as I was in the doorway, I saw something moving across a desk. I blinked several times, trying to make out what I was seeing. “Mr. Smith!”
He didn’t answer but kept his hand on the gun.
The man in the corner stood up, carrying a gun. “There’s no need to shoot,” he said.
“Don’t move or you’ll be shot!” Mr. Smith roared.
I turned around and stepped toward the exit. But Mr. Smith stepped ahead of me and blocked the doorway.
The man walked down the hall away from us. “No! It’s the man who took my job!” Mr. Smith yelled as he fired at the departing man. The bullet missed its target.
“Leave now!” Mr. Smith ordered his voice like steel.
I started forward but stopped when I realized he didn’t know what the man looked like. All the light from his flashlight was behind the gunman, and none shone toward him.
I tried to move into the hallway, but Mr. Smith pushed me back. I couldn’t see what was happening in the dark room.
The gunman stopped at the far end of the corridor. He pulled a lever. I heard a strange sound, so loud it seemed to shake the walls. I jumped back.
“Run!” Mr. Smith called.
I rushed past him, pushing him aside. I ran for the exit. “Stop her!” Mr. Smith yelled after me.
He fired the gun but missed again. I turned the corner and almost fell. Something had thrown me. Mr. Smith caught me in the hallway. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes…” I managed to say. I felt my body shaking with fear. I could hear that awful sound and see something out there in the darkness. I tried to push him away but he was too strong. “You have to go back in there.”
“No, we don’t,” Mr. Smith replied. “That noise is just a recording.”
“What do you mean?” I cried.
“It’s some kind of alarm. This place has security systems installed in all the rooms. That one will trigger if someone enters any of them without proper authorization.”
“Why did you shoot at him?” I demanded as he held me back.
“Because I didn’t want you getting hurt. We have to get out of here.”
“But why are they all dead snakes? What did those men want to hide?”
“Come on, let’s go,” he said, helping me out of the hall. As soon as we were in the first room, he closed the door behind us. Then he walked down the hall and looked at the other doors.
The End