Summary:   A response to ML’s 2012 birthday literary exercise.   

Rated: K (1,255 words)

A Lost Bonanza

When I read the challenge to write a “Spooky” poem or story for ML’s birthday challenge I had to think about it. What would be spooky… frightening, horrifying.

An Adam’s girl might quickly respond: Season 7

A Joe girl: A ban against SJS or JPMs

God forbid Hoss loose his hat or Pa his ever understanding wisdom and love.

But what would strike us all? What would every fan find equally as horrifing?

I would have to strike out at them all…

***

The Captain had amassed a small fortune over the span of his life and now as life was drawing to a close he figured he might as well spend some of it. After all, there was no one to leave it behind to. It seemed a shame that it go to waste after all the decades he had spent building it up.

This trip West was just the thing he needed. He had signed on to one of those sightseeing tours that had promised adventures, Indians, shootouts, and such to wealthy businessmen who had always dreamed somewhere in there hearts to follow the call of “Go West young man.” Only they weren’t young anymore so they rode along in a converted stage coach and lived off beef jerky just like the real cowboys, at least, so they were told.

At different stops along the way their guide would give the town’s history and teach them to pan for gold or ride horses or rope a docile milk cow.

Virginia City had been no different. Their guide, Toby, had given them a tour of one of the mines in the area and, after a brief history lessen, had taken them to the stables to pick out some calm horses to continue their riding lessons.

The Captain had chosen his horse and mounted with the experience of a man who had ridden all his life. Riding lessons were something he didn’t need. “I’m going to explore a bit.” His voice rumbled deep in his chest.

“I’ve told you, Captain, you have to stay with the group. It’s easy to get yourself lost out here.” Toby grunted as he helped the old, overweight Gilbert Dawson onto his horse

“And I’ve told you that if I can navigate the seas I can do the same here,” pulling out his compass he tipped his hat and nudged his horse forward.

“Fine,” Toby was tiered of arguing with the stubborn man. Let the Captain get himself lost. It wouldn’t be the first of his tourists to not return to the city.

And so the Captain rode off with no known destination in mind. The time escaped him and the farther he rode the less he felt like going back. At length he came upon a clearing. Tall ponderosa pines stood tall against the sky as if they had been guarding this place for a hundred years, waiting for someone to discover the beauty.

He dismounted. “This is where we would have built the house.” He was surprised at his own words, but even more at the longing in his chest as he had ridden over this untouched land and reached this point feeling as if he had been lost his whole life and had just found home. “She would have liked it here.”

He tied his reins to a tree branch and walked toward where he could picture a sprawling log ranch house. He paused at the place where his mind pictured a door, open and welcoming. He swiped off his white hat and stepped into the great room complete with fireplace. He turned to where the dining room might have gone and sighed, “I could have done it.” He sank down to the rich ground where the settee should have gone, “Should have done it.”

As a young man he had dreamed of this place, of coming West to build a home and a name for himself, to carve his dreams into the dirt and watch them grow, and to raise his family there. But he hadn’t. Should have, but hadn’t. Hadn’t followed his dreams. Hadn’t asked Elizabeth to marry him. Instead he had fled to what he knew- the sea. The sea had treated him well and made him wealthy, but as the wind rippled through the sea of grass and trees he knew that this was the sea he had been born for. But he had found it too late. Much too late.

Days later the Virginia City search party led by the town’s sheriff, Roy Coffee, had begun to lose hope of finding the stray traveler. They all split up to cover more ground around where they had lost the trail of the old man. It was Roy who first stumbled upon the clearing. He hated this area having lost many fugitives for lack of anyone knowing the area.

“Mr. Cartwright?” The old sheriff spotted the horse tied to the tree and munching on whatever grass he could reach. Years of cautious instinct took over as he scanned the clearing before entering it. “Captain Cartwright?” He spotted a form leaning against one of the ponderosa pines.

He approached still cautiously, but was still yards away when he realized that the man was dead. A strange sorrowful feeling, one that the hardened sheriff would never fully identify, scratched at his chest. He did not know this man, but he felt as if he should have.

Shaking his head, the sheriff fired off the signal shots to the rest of the search party then knelt in front of the man. “You look peaceful, stranger.” He looked around just to make sure no one was seeing him talk to this dead man. “I reckon from what old Toby tells me that there ain’t no one to miss you so normally we’d burry you up on the hill.” He glanced around again. “But you look pretty happy here and no one’s ever laid claim to this land. So we might as well let you rest here. It seems sorta natural you being here. Can’t say why seeing as you’re a stranger and all but…” the sheriff stood and rubbed a finger over his grey moustache, “you seem to belong here.” He turned back to his horse and pulled out his rusty shovel. The blade cut easily into the rich dirt.

The first of the search party arrived and came to help followed by the others and the grave was dug in record time. No one asked why he was being buried there instead of in the graveyard back in town.

The men stood over the fresh mound of earth there hats off in respect. “Reckon you should say something over him, Sheriff?” The town’s doctor, Paul Martin, wiped his forehead with a handkerchief before returning it to his pocket.

“Don’t rightly know what to say,” At the head of the grave Roy stuck the cross one of the men had made. “Rest in peace, my friend.”

And so Captain Benjamin Cartwright was left forever to rest a man without a legacy and beneath the ground that should have been his Bonanza.

End Notes:

As I said, it was the spookiest and most horrifying thing I could think of.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.