Wandering Hill
The present. Vicinity of Soapstone Prairie, northern Colorado, high plains, high noon.
Dayton: D’you suppose that there is the wandering hill, er that one over yonder?
Willem: I dunno. What difference could it make?
Day: W’ll Shep said when you get to the wandering hill you’ll be halfway there and to start heading north.
Will: oh great. Those are the directions we’re goin’ by? Shep said, Shep said, Shep’s a dang jackass. A jackass who’d rather pull your leg, than . . . than well do most any–He’d rather pull your leg than get a poke, that’s what a jackass Shep is. We’re out here on foot, no water, no shade except for what we’re wearin’ . . . you dummy! You cain’t figure out it’s kinda hard to get your bearings when yer landmarks are movin’ all around?
Day: Wait. You don’t actually think that these hills get up one morinin’, put on their boots and saunter off to another location? Who’s the dummy out here? HA!
(long pause)
Will: W’ll strange things happen out here. You remember all those lambs that turned up each with two legs chewed off?
Day: That’s mean ranchers doin’ that. It’s called veal on the hoof.
Will: Veal is from a calf, not a lamb. Yeah, maybe one or two for a special occasion, but not twenty or thirty. Spooky shit is all I’m sayin’.
Day: What, you think some pissed off Indian ghost came back and was hungry for some leg of lamb? HA!
Will: Why didn’t they bleed to death? Hell’ I couldn’t stop thinking about that. Twenty lambs scootin’ around on their sides nibblin’ at what grass they could reach. How do you get that picture out of your head?
Day: It’s not spooky, it’s just sad.
Will: W’ll why didn’t they bleed to death?
Day: I don’ know. Maybe them ghosts of Indian braves got spit that cauterized them like the stuff they slather on bull’s sacks when they cut their balls off.
Will: Jeez, Dayo. Just sayin’ there’s stuff we don’t know about, and yer dummer if you think you do.
Day: I’m parched.
Will: Me too, and not a lick a shade.
(pause)
Day: W’ll maybe we should get to between these two hills and just start heading north from there.
Will: A’right. We’re bound to see sumpthin, some tracks, a road, smoke, sumpthin.
Day: Seems like an awfully long walk just to get some beer and some whores.
Will: Be good times when we get there.
Day: I guess. If we don’t die of thirst first.
Will: Yeah. (pause) I wonder why they don’t find any bodies out here? You know, like travelers who tried to cross this dang prairie without enough food or water?
Day: We’re not goin’ that far.
Will: Still.
(pause)
Day: Hey! Lookee there! Somebody’s old truck hood
Will: What’re you doin?
Day: Might provide some shade if we can find somethin’ around here to prop it up with that’s bigger ‘n’ a blade a grass.
Will: How ‘bout that half dead rabbit brush?
(both sit in the shade, take off hats to reveal very sweaty “hat head”)
Day: oh, that’s better. Goddamn sun.
(long pause)
Day: Think we should just head back to the bunkhouse?
Will: What would everybody think? We set out on a Saturday night for some drinkin’ and whorin’ and show back up cowed, thirsty and still horney?
Day: Can I tell you somethin’, Willo? I’m not sure I really like whorin’.
Will: How can you not like whorin’?
Day: W’ll remember that night at the Prairie Rose? D’you think the whores like it?
Will: Sure do seem to: moanin’, groanin’, hollerin’, caterwaulin’ and then there’s the big “YaHoo” which I’m pretty sure everybody likes.
Day: I dunno. All those guys shit-eatin’ grins and droolin’ like a bunch of perverts. Somethin’ about it makes me think of a man beatin’ on his horse. That aint right.
Will: A man beatin’ on his horse? You mean jerkin’ off?
Day: NAH HA!
Will: That’s a new one on me, “Hey where’s Jonsie? Ah, he’s off beatin’ on his horse again!” “You guys better quit beatin’ on yer horses and get back to work!”
Day: Not so funny really. You remember old Dean? How the mares he used to work would get those bad scrapes on their legs? I use to wonder if Dean used to tie them down and get up on a stool an’ Do people do that?
Will: I don’ think Dean would a done that. Sheepherders do I guess
Day: Shit. Nah, it’s not right
Will: You were courtin’ MaryAnne for awhile weren’t you?
Day: MaryAnne is not a whore!
Will: I know. I know. But how did it go with her?
Day: Ah, we kissed and rolled around in the hay loft, but never got naked er nothin’
Will: Wait. You’ve done it before right?
Day: Yeah, sure, sure (pause) Man, we’re screwed.
Will: Remember Billy? “Skrood, S K R O O D, skrood.”
Day: (in unison) O O D, skrood. I miss that little kid. Think about him nearly everyday.
Will: Yeah
Day: You were there, right? When it happened?
Will: Don’t like to think about it.
Day: Do you think he knew what was comin’ or did it sneak up on him? D’you s’pose he felt anyth–
Will: I told you: I don’t like to think about it, alright. You little shit.
Day: sorry. (pause) Willo, can I ask you somethin’
Will: Not about that.
Day: No. No. I don’t really understand about the water stuff. I mean, farmers and ranchers need the water, so what’s Henry–
Will: You mean all that stuff Henry goes on and on about?
Day: Yeah
Will: Well, Henry doesn’t think– he thinks that no one is ever gonna see that water ‘cept for people in big new houses tryin’ to keep their grass green or watchin’ it swirl around as their shit goes down. And their big houses creeping closer and closer out here to us.
Day: D’you believe him when he says if they start workin’ on the dam, he’ll mess with their equipment so it breaks down every day.
Will: Wouldn’t put it past him. He does know equipment. He could prob’ly do it in a way that they wouldn’t even know
Day: What’s that word? Like when yer purposely tryin’ mess somethin’ up?
Will: purposefully? Throwin’ a wrench in the gears?
Day: Yeah, what is it?
Will: Throwin a wrench in the gears. Man I could use a tank full a water ‘bout now
Day: I’d likely jump in and swim
(pause)
Day: You don’t think we should go back to the Bunkhouse?
Will: You can. I’m not. I aint goin’ back there ‘til mornin’. I may walk on, see if I can see any signs of life north of here, or may just stay here all night.
Day: S’pose it gets cold out here at night even though it’s blazin’ now?
Will: Maybe. ‘specially if the wind comes up
Day: Usually quiets down at sunset.
Will: So why do you think they call it The Wandering Hill?
Day: ‘cause there was a old Indian chief named One Who Wanders, or no, some old Indian chief’s wife was named Wandering Eyes, an’ he got sick of it, so he scalped her and piled all that dirt on top of her so she wouldn’t bug him anymore an’
Will: Now you sound like Shep
Day: an’ they called it wandering eye hill, but that was too hard to say so it became the wandering hill. Huh? Huh? you like it?
Will: Strange stuff does happen out here.
Day: And you want to stay here all night?
Will: I may start heading north soon and find that little town and have a good old time, while yer back at the bunkhouse lickin yer paws.
Day: Lickin’ my paws? Does that mean jerking off too?
Will: Funny kid, real funny. (while Day says “next” bit in unison) More whores for me, that’s all.
Day: “Whar’s ol’ Billybob? Ah, shoot, he’s off lickin’ his paw again”
(long pause)
Will: Shit, we stay out here, yer goin’ to miss yer church tomorrow, church boy.
Day: Ah, I can miss it now and again
Will: I can’t see what you get out of that. And you readin’ that bible of yours all the damn time
Day: I like it. Don’t need a reason I don’t think. I like the stories in the bible an’ all church is is talking about the stories. You should read some and come to church once. I tried readin’ one a Hank’s dime store novels. What’s the point of readin’ about a cowboy in a scrape? Got that all day long and every day too. But in the bible you got stories about old Noah and Lazarus, of Jesus feedin’ a multitude of people with just a couple a fish and a loaf of stale bread. That to me is somethin’ to think about. You oughtta read some
Will: Well, don’t let on, but I can’t really read so good
Day: Hell, I like readin’ aloud. I’ll read some to ya, if ya want
Will: Nah. Not for me. No, thank you. I pray all god damned day long, guess that’s good enough for me. Pray to be relieved of this burden and that mix-up and that other scrape over there. All just begins to seem like a hole in the hay barn roof all life seems sometimes
(pause) (sun starting to go down)
Day: You ever think about shootin’ yerself?
Will: Now why the hell would I want to shoot myself?!
Day: I aint talkin’ about shootin’ yerself in the foot! I mean, to end it all.
Will: Nah, that’s fer damn cowards. And what do they say about them in your church?
Day: You never thought about killin’ yourself?
Will: Why, hell no, man that’s crazy talk.
Day: You said, life seems like a hole in the hay barn roof, all your workin’ gone to hell, I just–
Will: Nah, that’s a coward’s way out
(pause)
Day: What if they can’t help it?
Will: What? Boy, you think too much. Think too much, read too much, and go to church too much, that’s what I think
Day: Well, it’s church that helps me to not think too much. No, what if they can’t help it?
Will: Ah, that’s like sayin’–that’s like–like a person can’t help getting’ on his horse in the middle of the night and go galloping off into the dark–only happens in movies and TV. Horse’d spook and stumble and you’d be on yer backside in a cactus before you got outta the circle of light from the lantern. If I had the chance to make a movie, it’d be a real cowboy movie
Day: Kind of a boring movie, don’t ya think? Wathcin’ you fix a hole in a hay barn roof all day, every day
Will: Shut up. You know what I mean. No ridin’ at night, no ten horses standing still at a hitching rail, not hardly tied up, man, I’d have ‘em fidgety and hoofin’ the dirt bitin’ each other on the ass and makin’ their pig squeals
Day: There must not be any flies allowed on movie sets. Don’t hardly ever see’em swishin’ their tails. How can that be?
(pause)
Will: What do you mean, they can’t help it?
Day: Ahh, I don’t know. My Dad killed himself, and guess what: he didn’t leave me the ranch
(pause)
Will: Sun’s startin’ to go down
Day: Thank goodness. You really plannin’ on stayin out here all night?
((Night descending))
Will: Maybe I will. Haven’t slept out under the stars in quite some time
Day: Now yer talkin’ like some dang cowboy in yer movie blahblahblah under the stars. Damn, no blankets, no pillow
Will: No woman to snuggle up to
Day: Shit. Now yer dreamin’. You already fall asleep and dreamin’ an’ talkin’ in yer sleep?
Will: Hey are there snakes around here?
Day: Better believe it. Only come out at night when it’s cool. Be careful, you go off to piss and a snake might jump up and get ya in the pecker
Will: Nah. Mine’s so big it would scare away any snakes in the area
Day: Just don’t let it drag around in the dust too long, there’r coyotes out here, badgers. Maybe heaven’s like a cowboy movie: no flies, no spooky horses, and lo and behold! Everybody’s a top notch rider.
Will: (sings) My foot in the stirrup, my seat in the saddle, I’m the best dern cowboy that ever rode astraddle
Day: (sings) whoop di diddle yum a yay yum a yay, bupmdi diddle ima day
Will: (talking) eyes like a morning star, cheeks like a rose, Laura was a pretty girl god almighty knows, weep all you little rains, blow winds blow (singing) “all along along along the colorado trail”
Day; “(sing in unison) . . . along, along, the Colorado trail.” If I ever get to that heaven, I’m gonna have a mule. No fussy horse shit, won’t colic, won’t even think about runnin’ herself to death like a damn horse would. Mules’s smart.
Will: A good one is. You get a bad one, look out.
Day: ‘s a hybrid right? Maybe they’re smarter ‘cause they won’t ever have offspring. No history, no children. No worryin’ about leavin’ the ranch to your good for nothing kids. Horses ‘s a thousand pounds of muscle and fragile as a humming bird. It’s a wonder the west was ever won a-horseback. Guess mules and chinamen did all the work
Will: Now yer soundin’ like Shep again.
Day: Should we see if we can get a fire going?
Will: Not much to burn around here. Guess we can see if that old rabbit brush’ll burn
(pause – lighting fire)
Day: That’s the other thing I love about church, the cowboy hymns.
Will: Know any?
Day: sure. You woudn’t want to hear my favorite, would ya?
Will: Not doin’ anything else
Day: goes like, uh, now Shirley, who made it up, poor guys name was Shirley, he always began it with something like, “now this is a cowboy song, it’s about the horse and the human, and also some, what’d he say?, some speculatin’ on the essessential confundum of today’s cowboy or cowgirl.” Anyway, (ahem)
That horse doesn’t even know who I am
That horse don’t seem to care that I’m her friend
Feed her grain, comb her mane
Shovel her shit ‘n’ what do I get
Will: They do not sing that in church
(in unison)
Day: That horse don’t even care that I exist
Three days out ‘n’ I fergot my solar phone charger
It’ll be days before I rendezvous with m’ mother
Feed her grain, comb her mane
Wipe her bottom, life’s lessons she taught ‘em
That crone don’t even know who I’m is
Will: Shit, kid, yer makin’ this up. They don’t–
Day:
Danged if it haint all gone gray and foggy
Caint see mountains no sun no sign a that stray doggie
Let ‘em eat grass, pains ‘n the ass
Hunered heifers floppin’ in my path
That orphan don’ even know he exists
I’m so glad m’ Daddy’s gone to heaven
‘Fraid I’ll lose the ranch and then what’ll I believe
Under water, payments failed
Only day it rained was the day I baled
That ranch don’ seem to care who I’m is
Laura was a girl so gol dern pretty
I made her mine and then she ran away to the city
Hair color the waves of grain
Never see a smile like that again
Girl, I hope yer happy with what you have
Time ‘n’ again I think about cashin’ it in
Good bye to worries, goodbye to all my sins
An’ then I hear a chuckle from above
Mebbe all I need is a li’l God’s love
Guess givin’ up is somethin’ I resist
Yeah, just a little God’s love’s all I need to exist
Will: They don’ sing that in church
Day: Nah, just somethin’ I learned. I do love the cowboy hymns, though, (singing)
“How beautiful heaven must be . . .”
Will: This damn brush ‘s only good for smoke. No fire likely.
Day: Any cowpies nearby?
(eventually darkness, silence, sleeping)
(dawn, stirring)
(Will awake, Day coming around)
Day: Dang it! Slept on my hat again. Look at that
Will: I love the world at dawn
Day: Got some views here. How long before we can start back? I’m starved
Will: I dunno. Should we make up a story about our wild night?
Day: I’m not very good at lyin’. What a pair we are: you can’t read an’ I can’t lie
Will: You could just keep quiet.
Day: Nah, they’d catch us at it and we’d feel even dumber. What if we told ‘em we camped out ‘cause we found an oasis out here? Or like a hot spring like up in Saratoga. Uhh, I was walkin’ on the flats and all of a sudden fell into hot mud just short of my scrotum. Took a while to get out, glad it wasn’t hotter, glad it wasn’t deeper, and then just a little ways off there was a stone-lined pool out in the middle of nowhere! What do ya bet Shep and the rest of ‘em would hurry on out here, an’ “Ah, it’s just kinds of a ways South East of the Wandering Hill”
Will: What do you mean you can’t lie? That might work. Hell, let’s head on back.
Day: That happened to my brother once, fell into hot mud while he and a girl were at the hot springs. That was Idaho. No. In Oregon, eastern Oregon. That’s just a story, I can cook up a story, I just can’t lie
(heading off)
Will: What’s the difference?
Day: Hoah, BACON AND EGGS!
Will: LIVER AND ONIONS!
Day: yuck. SCRAPPLE AND MOLASSES!
Will: Ah! CORNMUFFINS AND MAPLE SYRUP. And coffee!
Day: Hey. It’s Sunday right? We could make it to vespers, evensong prayers, you could come. I guess most churches have vespers on Saturday nights, but the cowboy church does it Sundays, ‘cause a cowboy’s either workin’ or gone to get drunk on Saturdays
(shoulder to shoulder arm to shouilder)
Will: All I’m thinkin’ is breakfast and a nap. I didn’t sleep so good. Seein’ things in the dark . . . big kachina dolls sneakin’ around in the dark. And kept tryin’ to keep track a that damn hill
Day: Whoa, what if we’d woken up and it was gone?
theend
< Wherds