Long Time Gone

Chapter 24

The journey to south from the New York City was a prolonged and boring one. The bus had been jostling on the very same highway for five hours now, and it appeared that it was nowhere nearing the village of Canterville.

I sighed heavily as I leaned back in my seat, holding my head as the nauseated feeling kept growing in my gut. It seemed to be following from my stomach, to my chest and to my head finally. I linked this obnoxious feeling with road sickness.

The bus hit a stop numerous times in its journey, where passengers were allowed to get off and refill their water bottles, buy snacks or use the bathroom. I, however, did not get off the bus, for I was too anxious from the thought of what waited me ahead in the village.

At last, after what seemed like 8 hours of continuous ride, the bus halted at a deserted station, where the conductor announced the passengers for Canterville to take leave. Unsurprisingly, it was only me. With a heavy mind, I stepped off the bus, a little relieved to stretch my muscles from the previously cramped space of the bus seat.

As the bus before me departed again, I took in my surroundings. This bus station was without a doubt located in the same highway I trekked with Bob back in 61. It was a mere station with gas pumps lining its vacant small space. A tuck shop stood nearby and other than that there was no sign of life.

Heaving a big sigh, I squinted my eyes against the now dying Sun, its rays just visible behind the ever stretching grasslands. I wondered how was I to travel to Canterville now, but my query was soon answered as a sharp whistle in the quite air jolted me in alarm.

I wheeled to my right to find a middle aged man perched upright on a black horse, his eyes scanning my figure while he chewed absently on a toothpick. The existence of the whining horse made me question how did I overlook the pair of them in the area.

"Want a lift, pumpkin?" The cowboy questioned, his smooth voice echoing throughout the silent station.

I hesitantly looked at my surroundings, clutching my suitcase tighter. With a nod, I answered, "Actually yes- sir. Would I trouble you and your horse for a ride to Canterville?"

"You belong to Canterville?" The man said with a chuckle, a smirk etching on his face. "Last time I heard, the village's church don't let maidens stray alone like this."

His gaze eyed me, and I caught an air of mockery lining his tone. Nevertheless, I replied as boldly as I could manage. "I'm a traveller, you see. I'm visiting Canterville."

"For what?"

"I believe that's none of your business."

"Cheeky, are we?" The cowboy laughed, his deep voice ringing off the walls of the station.

With a shake of his head, he added, "Say what- I'll give you a lift to that village if you tip me any loose change. I gotta buy meself a pack of ciggies- a man needs 'em, doesn't he?"

I quickly rummaged around my pockets and thankfully found a lone bill of ten dollars. Offering it to the cowboy, I said, "Will ten do you good? I'm sorry but that's all I have."

The man silently studied my composure, before clicking his tongue in disappointment and mounting off his horse. He took swift steps towards me, taking the bill from my hand and pocketing it.

The cowboy then said with a lazy grin, "Alright, pumpkin. Just this one time. I don't find you gettin' stray again or I'll tell ya daddy."

I grinned softly at him, bowing my head in thanks as I followed him to his horse. The cowboy mounted the horse first and offered me his hand. I grasped onto it and lifted myself to perch up on the saddle. The horse gave a soft whine, grumbling in anticipation.