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Dud got up to go see what he was driving, but in the parking lot,
only the familiar colors, dings, dents and scratches were to be
seen, each car and truck resting in its customary place. So did he
walk here? Take the bus? Doc walked over to him and invited him to
bring his cup over to the round table, where all of us Knights of
Unlimited Knowledge were holding forth, but he just smiled and shook
his head.
"Maybe he isn't able to talk," Dud said.
We looked at him again, and tried to get on another theme ...
Christmas presents for wives and grandkids, with the Big Day being
so close. But it didn't take. We just kept looking at him, then
looking away when he looked up at us. Loretta didn't know who he
was, either.
"Loretta," said Bert, "I want you to give him whatever he wants
for breakfast. On me."
She spoke to him and he smiled and pointed to something on the
menu and nodded at Bert.
Steve was next to get up. He walked up to the stranger and tipped
his hat.
"Hey, pard," Steve said, "you know, if you need a place to bunk
tonight, we have a bunkhouse on the place with a good stove in it."
The stranger smiled and looked questioningly at Steve. "Just down
the road there, see that ranch on the left? Just come over when
you're ready. You can have some supper with us if you like, too."
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Steve came back. "I think he's going to stay in the bunkhouse
tonight."
"Oh, good," Doc told him. "Cold tonight."
"Well," Bert added, "we'll probably find out he's the chairman of
the board of something and then feel kinda silly."
"I don't think so," Loretta said, topping off the mugs, "but he
seems, well, special, I guess."
"Or maybe," Doc said, "we want him to seem special."
"And it probably don't matter much which," Steve said. "It's
Christmas."
[Text from file received from Slim Randles]
Sponsored by:
www.pearsonranch.com.
Farm-direct, delicious California navel and Valencia oranges. |
