Yankton

Chapter 9

Chapter 9 "Come to Do Some Business"

After Mark had spent a little time with Melonie discussing the state of modern medicine, and what would be most effective for Melonie's situation, I asked him, "So what are you bringing to the "party?" He got a wry smile on his face, and retrieved his gun case. Opening it, he pulled out a Colt AR, the civilian version of the M4 we carried in Afghanistan. Along with that, he produced a Remington copy of the 1911 .45 auto, along with A Springfield XDS 9mm sub-compact pistol.

"Oh but there's more, check this out," grinned Mark. With Melonie and I watching, he then proceeded to pull all the contents of one of his duffle bags out onto the floor, placing various gun parts on the table. Going out to his car, he returned shortly with a barrel assembly, I knew it by now as an AK-47. As he began to assemble the various parts, I asked, "How in the hell did you get that home?" Mark chuckled, "When you travel on a ship, certain advantages present themselves, and just leave it at that." I a few minutes he had the whole thing laying in the table fully assembled. Melonie studied it for a moment then said, "Mighty peculiar looking rifle, is that what they look like now?" "Some," I replied, "What we have here is a Russian designed weapon know as an AK-47, it's fully automatic, which means that unless you've paid the proper taxes, and have authorization for it the government won't let you own one. I assume from Mark's expression he snuck this little beauty home from Afghanistan."

"What do you mean fully automatic?" she asked. "It means," injected Mark, showing her an empty twenty round magazine, "That when you squeeze the trigger, it will continue to fire until this magazine is empty. A lot has happened in weapon technology since the days of the .45-70 trapdoor Springfield, black powder is a thing of the past, all modern ammunition uses what we call "smokeless powder" non-corrosive, higher velocities, much better all around. This rifle came straight out of a war zone, Brian, you remember that police station we were at for two weeks, well I was poking around right after we got there, found this stashed under someone's bed in one of the back rooms, broke it down and stashed it in my duffle bag, no one was the wiser. Say I'm gonna need ammo for it, is there a Cabela's around here?" "Rapid City, I need to get stuff to clean and lube black powder guns, I was even thinking of getting myself a pistol as well, this .45 auto I'm carrying, sticks out like a sore thumb, I've got a shoulder rig for it, but I figure one of those black powder pistols they carry would be just the thing."

Mark then showed Melonie a couple of his med bags and some of the equipment he carried before we decided to take a drive over to Rapid City. "Would you care to come with us?" I asked Melonie. She thought for a moment, then replied, "No, I don't think so, I feel rather strange being here in the future as it is, I'm seeing things I'm not sure God want's me to see, but I'll be fine right here, I've got a book to finish, don't worry about me, I'll be fine." I told her to keep the door locked and not to go out, until we returned , Mark and I then drove to Cabela's where we spent money. Besides stocking up on what little .45 and .308 they had, I bought some more freeze dried food, a small primus stove and cook set,. On top of all that, we bought two large cans of Pyrodex black powder, along with several packages of pistol primer caps. I also bought some modern clothes for Melonie, a denim skirt, a couple plaid Carhartt shirts, along with a knitted "hoodie" jacket along with a women's camo hooded coat.

We swung by a drug store where Mark picked up some things he thought he would need as well as a bunch of stuff for Melonie. Back home, we discovered Melonie curled up on the couch with a cup of coffee reading a history book.. Mark took a look at what she was reading and jokingly said, "The book doesn't end well," "Bought you some stuff Melonie," I announced, "Certainly a change from what you've been wearing." Taking a look at what we got her, she said in amazement, "Brian, you didn't have to do that, these things must have cost a fortune." "Well worry about that later," I replied, I hope the size is right." She was hesitant about putting them on, especially the bra and panties, becoming rather red-faced, but did as I asked. "I feel naked in these clothes," she remarked, but at our insistence, she continued to wear them finally admitting, "They are very comfortable, I don't feel quite so "stuffed" in them."

We had also stopped at McDonalds and got a bunch of take-out. Presenting the fare to Melonie, Mark said, "Eat up Melonie, tell us what you think of "Micky-D's" this stuff is the national food, every town city or burg of any size has one of these restaurants in it, a Big Mac, order of fries, and a shake, welcome to the 21st century." I watched as Melonie sampled a Big Mac, being totally unused to eating food with her hands. While she was doing that, Mark settled back and asked, "So buddy, what's the plan, so far, you haven't said really what we'll be doing, I gather we are getting in your "wayback machine" and going back to 1876. Looking at Mark, I grinned, "Well we could go back to the other setting, 1944, go enlist and fight World War two, just imagine, you could end up a corpsman on Iwo Jima." Mark glared at me, "Buddy, that's not even funny." "Just kidding," I replied, "We'll go back looking for adventure and what ever comes our way, I've got a couple ideas how we can make a few bucks as well as visiting a couple places I've always wanted to see." Mark shrugged, "Something tells me we're going right back to the 'Stan, don't get me killed guy, I won't like it."

Both Mark and I were curious as to what Melonie thought of McDonalds, "It is very unusual to eat food with your hands like this," she said. "I don't really taste any meat as such, this sauce or whatever you call it tastes a bit strange, the potato's are rather good, and what is it? A chocolate milkshake, very sweet ,I rather like it as well." We explained to her the concept of "fast food," and the country's craving for it. When she voted positive for the food, Mark snickered, "Give her some White Castle "sliders" and see if she says the same thing." Finally we got around to packing up all our gear, and hauling it into the time machine's chamber, making sure our vehicles were locked up and the house doors locked as well, we stepped into the machine, where I initiated the computer starting our trip back in time.

After the room flared to a bright white and the humming stopped, I made sure we were at the right period of time. The computer said we were, so I carefully shut everything down, then opened the door. Mark was spooked by what he saw, the electric lights were gone, replaced by a couple dim Kerosene lamps. The smell was different as well, but he noticed the security door was now different as well, the grey metal high security door was now a rusty looking iron and wood door with iron strapping around the edges, and across the face of the door as well. "Stand back." I advised, "Let me go first, just in case someone broke in." I drew my .45, and cautiously opened the door revealing an empty cabin. Checking the rooms and trying the door I found everything to be in order, so I gave the "All Clear," as Melonie and Mark emerged from the tunnel. Mark went to the window, but the computer told me that it was around nine at night, so he didn't see much. I wouldn't let him go outside until morning so we busied ourselves bringing in all our clothing and gear. We had bought folding cots at Cabella's so we set them up in my bedroom with sleeping bags.

Mark was still freaked out as he began to come to terms with what had just happened, examining every part of the cabin. It was pretty dark inside, as I had only left one lamp lit on the table, turned way down. By the machine's count we had only been gone one day, but the oil in the lamp was almost gone. I lit two propane Coleman lanterns we bought, brightening the place up immensely . I showed Mark how the toilet worked, and built a fire in the stove before we sat down to talk. "I'm still not real clear what your plans are Brian," said Mark, but as for me, I promised this young lady I would teach her what I know, so that she can hang up her "M.D." shingle, it's my number one priority, I'll ride with you, however count me out of "Indian fighting, robbing banks, or doing anything that might get me killed. I'm not as well versed on history as you are, but I do know that Deadwood was a pretty violent place. I'm not against killing, and it's not like we're out of our element here, but I won't be partner to wanton killing."

"I wasn't planning on doing anything like that either," I replied, however one of the things I thought would make us a few bucks was offering to "escort" gold from the mining camps to the banks, we have the superior firepower, and in many ways have the edge on the situation here, but it's an opportunity , let's face it, it's a rough country with rough men, there are opportunities here for us and I intend to take advantage of them. I'll tell you what, in the morning we'll take a walk into town snoop around, see if we can pick anything up, besides there's someone I want you to meet, how's that sound?" "Sounds like a plan," replied Mark, "Kinda want to see what kind of "s**t" you got me into." He laughed when he said it, but now I was starting to have second thoughts about inviting him in on this.

In the morning, we ate a freeze-dried breakfast, and loaded our new pistols, at my suggestion, Mark had bought a concealed shoulder rig which he had hidden under his denim jacket. I had mine under the sheepskin vest I wore, still pretending I was Clint Eastwood. Again Melonie preferred to remain in the cabin reading, still working on the history book. Mark and I then headed out the door and down the hill into town. Mark was astonished at the change, remarking on the scene before him, "Awesome, flat f*****g incredible," was all he could muster, then his nose caught the smell of the 19th century.

"God! We are back in the 'Stan, what's that goddamned smell?" I shrugged, "Horse crap mixed with hundreds of unwashed bodies, garbage, rotting in the streets, stale booze, Christ you name it, this is what you don't "experience" looking at those old daguerreotypes in history books, embrace the horror buddy!" mark kept commenting on how this was worse than Afghanistan or even Iraq in some of it's worst slums. "There is one smell you're missing ole' buddy," I said, "What's that?" "Money, it's the smell of money, that's why all these people are here, gold fever, give it some time, and you'll smell it too."

Our first stop was Dora's place, "Where are we going?" asked Mark. I turned to him and grinned, "Ever been to an honest to god w***e house, well that's where we're going." "This should be interesting?" commented Mark. When a smiling young lady answered the door, I announced, "Tell Dora and Montana that Brian and a friend are here to see them." In moments we were standing in Dora's parlor being commented on by a bevy of "Sporting ladies" giggling and chattering away. Mark stood there a moment smiling at the girls, then muttered, "They gotta lot of nice girls, ah." "You say something?" I asked. "Just thinking of an old ZZ Top song is all." Just then Dora made her appearance, and bid us to her office.

Montana was sitting there as well and rose to offer her hand as Mark shook it. "Dora, Montana, I'd like you to meet my friend Mark Sedgwick."