You tell me why they called him Curly 'cause I'm sure I don’t know – anyhoo, me and ‘Curly’ decided that the Wild West was waiting on us and that was where we were headed.
He’d
built the motor-home over a couple of winters when we’d been stuck ‘cause of the
snow. It had really started out as something to make us all smile and jeez if it didn’t end up as an actual motor-home that you could drive and all.
The first time we
took the darned thing out for a drive to see if the wheels would fall off, the cops stopped us twice. Second
time they just said ‘you again’ and they left us alone after that.
We could get a distance of about fifty miles with a full tank of gas but sometimes we had to get out and push. We decided to call her the Corndog and she was christened with a well past its date bottle of cola.
So there was Curly,
Corndog and me and we pointed the motor-home out in the direction of the setting
sun.
It was sure cold at
night and there was a lot of howling from the dogs on the prairies but apart
from that, it was the smartest little home this side of the Smoky Mountains.
Curly drew a line
with a pen that took us from where we were to where we were going – which
happened to be Albuquerque. I wanted to go to El Paso but Curly won the game of cards
and we were going where he had decided.
The big problem was
that the line crossed mountains and rivers and places where roads didn’t
necessarily go, but still an adventure is an adventure and that was what we were
on.
We each took turns at driving, although Corndog was more likely to go where it wanted - rather
than you guiding the thing. The steering wheel was really just there as a suggestion
than anything else.
The first time we
stopped for more than a couple of hours was in the little village of Sudsville
( I kid you not). I asked the lady, who ran the grocery store, where they got the
name of Sudsville, and she took a deep breath, making me move in to hear something
spectacular and that was when she said ‘why don’t you outsiders just mind your
own beeswax’.
Never did get to the
bottom of it but we stayed there for two days, almost put down roots. And if it
hadn’t been for Curly’s loud midnight snoring we might not have been run out of
town and coulda been there to this day.
Still if it had been
meant we would have known about it.
The next town was
really a few houses and a café and it was called Liberty Falls. I have to tell
you right here and now that I fell in love with the place the moment we drove old Corndog into the
middle of town.
Liberty Falls is one
of those places you read about and dream of finding and darn it, if we didn’t
just run into the best place I have ever been.
Everyone was
friendly and said ‘howdee’ and everyone wore a cowboy hat, and the men took
their hats off for the ladies and said things like ‘mornin’ mam’ and the ladies
all giggled and stuff.
After a spell of
rain I saw one man from Liberty Falls take off his coat and spread it across a
pool of water so that a lady wouldn’t get her feet wet. Just like in the
movies.
Talking of which - and this is where our story really starts - Curly suggested that we stayed for a
while and I wasn’t one to say no. The problem was we needed a way to make some
money and that was when Curly suggested that we turn Corndog into a small movie
theatre.
If we put all our stuff outside we could get 6 seats in there and a white sheet as a screen and
we could charge maybe 50 cents a pop.Our problem was
where to get a projector and some movies and that was where the Mayor of
Liberty Falls helped us out.
He was an old movie
fan and his basement was full of real old movies and his Daddy had left a
projector out in the barn. With a little bit of spit and polish we had our first
movie showing on the last Friday of the month.
Problem was it
proved to be too darn popular and they were queuing up outside the door.Curly said he’d
wished he’d made them tickets 75 cents instead and I heard him shout ‘darn’.
But I gotta go and make the popcorn for them movie folks, so I'll write some more tomorrow.
Take care from Curly, Corndog and Me.
bobby stevenson 2013
thoughtcontrol ltd
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