I stayed on for a week after it was over and then moved on west.
Two weeks later, I had a job cooking at a camping resort near Cody, Wyoming. Free parking, free food, and under-the-table money. How could I complain? After three months, the weather was starting to get a bit nippy, so I left, with a promise to come back the next Spring. They were happy, and I had gotten a lot more experience, and some more traveling money.
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The last sign that I saw, said something about the Shoshone National Forest, but I had no idea where the hell I was. It was a nice day, so I pulled over onto what appeared to be a designated parking spot of some sort. It was a nice area, away from the traffic noise. Since I was in no hurry, I decided to stay a few days, or until somebody chased me off.
That was when I met Micah. He wandered up to the camper while I was enjoying the sunset. He was a bit rough looking for an old man, but he didn’t look like a bum or a derelict.
“The coffee smells good. Do you have an extra cup to spare?”
I poured him a cup and pulled a folding chair out from under the Rialta.
“My name is Solomon, like the king. What’s yours?”
“My name is Micah, not like any king that I know.” He smiled at his own wit.
We sat and chatted about the weather, the view, and other insignificant stuff for a few minutes. “Where is your car, Micah?”
“Don’t have one. I was walking.”
“From where?”
“From home.” His short answers were getting a bit annoying and frustrating.
“Is it close?”
“No. Not really. I have been walking for two days now.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Yeah! I could eat. Do you have anything handy? I don’t want to put you out.”
One thing led to another, and I ended up feeding Micah and then he spent the night in the RV. The next morning we had a leisurely breakfast and chatted some more.
“Micah, does anyone know that you are here?”
“Oh yeah! My granddaughter Ottilie. She knows where I am.”
“Isn’t she worried?”
“Why would she be? I always come home.” I was at a loss for words.
“You know, Solomon. Maybe I should go home. I need a change of underwear and some new socks.”
“Hey! A bath and a shave wouldn’t be bad either, old man.”
Thirty minutes later, Micah and I were on our way. The only city sign that I saw, said Lander, but I still didn’t know where I was. I should have gotten a GPS for the RV before I left. Maybe I’ll get myself one for Christmas. After an endless series of driving directions, we finally ended up in front of a cabin-type home that appeared to be half stone and half logs. It was very picturesque so to speak.
She was standing on the front porch waiting for us. It was as if she knew we were coming, and I found out that she did.
“Thank you for bringing Sabba home. I was afraid that I was going to have to go get him.” She was tall, with bronze skin and black hair. I couldn’t tell much else because she was dressed in loose jeans and flannel. The term ‘sabba’ was interesting.
“You knew where he was?”
“Of course. I always know where he is. I have a tracker sewn into his jacket. The battery will last for a week, but I usually get him back after three days or so.”
“Does he have dementia? Is that why he wanders?”
“No! He is fine. We had him checked several times. He just likes to walk around in the woods. He has been doing it for two years now and we haven’t had a problem. I do have to go get him occasionally, however. If I tried to restrict him in any way, then we would have a problem.”
I held out my hand. “I am Solomon by the way. I guess that I saved you a trip.”
“Ottilie. Micah is my Grandfather. I appreciate you bringing him home, or did I say that already? Anyway, come on in. I got hot coffee and cold beer. Your choice.” Micah had disappeared somewhere. I assumed he was taking a shower and changing clothes.
We talked a while and then Micah reappeared, freshly showered and shaved. Ottilie made lunch. It was the first time that I had had a sit-down meal at a table in several months. It was nice. After lunch, Micah disappeared to someplace, and Ottilie gave me a tour of the property. They owned six hundred and forty acres, but most of it was wooded and mountainous. Not much good for ranching or farming. It was beautiful, however.
Ottilie and I seemed to hit it off. Before I knew what happened, I was committed to supper and promised a hot shower and a regular bed for the night.
A month later I was still there.
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The winter was harsh and Micah did not like the snow. He spent the winter wood carving. He liked to carve canes with unique designs and handles. Of course, all of the wood that he used came from the property. I spend hours walking with him, weather permitting, searching for just the right pieces that he wanted. What caught my eye as we were scavenging, was the large numbers of cottonwood trees throughout the property. I happened to know that cottonwood bark carving had become very popular, but all Micah was interested in carving was his canes.
Ottilie kept herself occupied writing romance novels. It appears that she had a knack for it. She had over thirty-five bodice ripper e-books listed on Amazon and a few other sites. She had developed a good following and the new novels sold as soon as she posted them. They were cheap, but she sold a lot of them.
I earned my keep by doing all of the past-due maintenance that the house and outbuildings sorely needed. It appeared to be an ongoing project with no end in sight.
The previous owners of the property had kept horses so there was a full-sized barn at the rear of the house. Micah and Ottilie were not into horses so the barn was empty. I put the Rialta in the barn alongside a utility vehicle that had appeared to never have been used. It only took half a day to get the ATV serviced and in good operating condition. I had a plan but wanted to talk to Ottilie first.
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“Ottelie, we have to talk!” She was working on her computer.
“Oh no!” She leaned back in her chair, put the back of her hand on her forehead, and started to moan. Naturally, I stood there with a confused look on my face.
“Lighten up, Solomon, it’s a joke.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Let me explain it to you. In all the romance and erotic novels, when a couple has a problem of a sexual nature between them, they always have a conversation that starts with those four words. Usually one of them is going to tell the other one of a dastardly deed that he or she has done or is about to do. This great reveal always has the effect of creating a rift between them. One of them is critically hurt and the other is usually indifferent or vengeful. Or something like that. It can go many, many ways.”
“Oh! I just wanted to borrow the ATV.”
“Well, that’s a big letdown. I was hoping for more.” She was smiling. “Do you want a beer?”
Micah was sitting in front of the fireplace, carving. Ottilie had a chair set up with a canvas tarp under it to catch the chips. In the summer she made him sit on the porch to carve.
“Now, what do you need the ATV for?”
I spent the next hour explaining my plan to her. I had three distributors set up who were willing to buy all the cottonwood bark that I could provide at wholesale prices. There was more available wood on the property than we would ever need. We would be harvesting the bark only from dead trees and there were enough on the acreage to keep us busy for many, many years. The only problem that we had was shipping. There was just no practical, cost-effective way to ship the bark.