Yankton

Chapter 31

Chapter 31 Craig Ruckerman

Just before Craig showed up, Montana and I took a walk into town, she opened her heart for the first time revealing her innermost feelings.

"These past weeks I've lived with so many unknown terrors I haven't been able to sleep very well."

"I didn't know Montana," I replied, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I-I don't know, perhaps because I knew these doctor and dentist visits meant so much to you."

"Well they're all over now," I said, "The doctor says you're healthy, your teeth are clean, and the cavities filled was it all that terrible?" She didn't say anything for a moment, then replied,

"You have to understand," she replied,

"I simply had no idea of what to expect, I was terrified, Melonie was as well, you brought us to a time and place completely alien to us, but I suppose it was the dentist that was the most terrifying."

"But it turns out he wasn't…was he?" I responded.

"No," she said rather sheepishly, "But that's not the point, all right, our fears were misplaced, but…"

"No "but's" I replied, you two agreed to it, Mark's sister even told you what you could expect, I'll tell you, going to a dentist in 1876 would scare me, let's just put it behind us OK? Your teeth are fixed, they look good, you've got a winning smile, time to move on." I gave her a hug which she seemed to appreciate, just then, three motorcycles roared by, causing Montana to quickly cover her ears and recoil.

"My God! What were those?" she gasped.

"Motorcycles," I answered, "iron horses, they are the true modern counterpart of the horse."

"Well you can keep the damn things," replied Montana, still covering her ears.

The next day I drove over to the airport and picked up Craig, along with the four large bags he was dragging,

"Goddamn airline gave me all kinda s**t about these bags," he complained, they're practically everything I own." He was still the same Craig I knew from Afghanistan, a bragging Texan proud of his state and not afraid to let anyone know it. As we drove back to Deadwood, he filled me in on what he'd been doing even admitting to briefly being married, but his wife ended up running off and filing for divorce. At one point his voice got very quiet, and he confessed,

"Man I really owe you Bro, I was at the end of my rope, even thought about re-upping, so you know how desperate I was, thanks man, now what is it you and Mark have gotten yourselves into?"

Keeping my eyes straight on the road, I replied,

"Something you simply won't believe Craig, now when we get to the house, there are three women present, I want you to mind your manners, one of them is my sister Melinda, she's been around, so I guess it won't matter with her, but the other two…well, they're living proof of what we're into, so just be the polite considerate southern gentleman and behave yourself OK?"

He promised he would but I didn't trust him so I stayed on guard. When we entered the house, it was old home week with Mark although I could tell that Mark was a little "cool" towards him, then I introduced Melinda who was polite, but had already sized up Craig and didn't like what she saw, then I introduced Montana and Melonie, surprisingly, Craig became the "southern gentleman" and actually kissed their hands causing each to look puzzled.

Melinda got Craig a beer, as we sat down to explain what he was about to get into.

I began from the beginning, telling of the professor, my mother working for him, then finally what was beyond the heavy security door.

"Craig thought we were playing a joke on him, and began to laugh, but when he realized no one else was laughing, he suddenly realized we were dead serious.

"Craig," I asked, "How old do you think Montana and Melonie are?" He studied them for a moment, then replied,

"I dunno, 23 or 24 I guess."

"They're both 24," I said, "When do you think they were born?" He gave me a puzzled look then scanned everyone's faces before answering,

"1989 or 90' I guess."

"Wrong Craig, try 1852, nine years before the civil war started." Again he scanned our faces for any sign of a joke being played, but then he realized we were serious and when he spoke his voice became very serious,

"Ya know, I had family that fought in that war, fought and died for Texas," then he turned to me and shook his head,

"You ain't shittin are ya, oh damn! So you're telling me you can go back in time?" Everyone nodded,

"Anywhere?" he quickly asked,

"No," I replied, "Just to 1876, and 1944, for some reason."

"Well damn!" he exclaimed, "Why don't we go back and fight the j**s or Krauts? Hell! We know how it all turns out, why we…"

"What's the matter with you Craig?" snapped Mark,

"Want to end up on Guadalcanal or worse yet Iwo Jima, what's the matter with you?"

Realizing he had made a big mistake, Craig switched tracks,

"So what's in 1876?"

I happened to glance over at Mark who was looking grim and if I could read his mind would be saying,

"Are you sure you want this guy?" I sighed, then pushed on,

"Well gold for one Craig, but we've just built a little hole-in-the-wall called Purgatory. Right now, it's basically just a saloon, and a clinic where Mark and Melonie work out of, we've also got a blacksmith as well, but he's independent of our operation. This is where you come in. We want to add a boarding house, as well as a sort of barracks where single men can get three "hot's" and a cot; you should see what passes for housing back there. Anyway, I've got a good man back there named Colin Murphy who has brick laying experience and is really coming along with his carpenter skills, we could really use you to oversee construction around there. But here's the thing Craig, even though we've got to do everything the old fashioned way, no nailers electric saws, or drills, there are things we are doing, such as spray-in foam insulation, along with certain construction techniques I really don't want the local barn carpenters to see."

As Craig pondered this information, I added,

"Keep in mind, there are no modern conveniences, no flush toilets, no indoor showers, although I have a hunch you could cobble something up." Craig looked at Mark and I then smiled,

"Sound's like the 'Stan all over again, I take it there must be trouble from time to time otherwise you wouldn't have asked me to bring my armory."

"Your getting the picture," said Mark, "While we're on the subject, what did you bring?"

Craig hesitated, then frowned,

"I'm afraid y'all caught me a little short, had to hock most of my power tools to buy a cheap AR." With that, he got up and went over to where all his gear was stacked. Opening a gun case he pulled out what appeared to be a typical M4 carbine.

"It's a CORE 15 Scout, gotta EO Tech red dot on it, shoots great, sorry guys, I wish I coulda brought my old 249, but that ain't gonna happen, I got something else here, I guess it sorta fits." Opening a smaller case, he produced a French Le Mat revolver,

"My great great grandfather carried it all through the war," then turning his attention to Montana and Melonie, he added,

"He rode with company E of the Texas Rangers second Calvary, you ladies wouldn't happen to be from the south would you?"

Melonie just shook her head, but Montana had about all she could take, and cut loose.

"I was born in Missouri, I don't know which side my father fought with, he ran out on us shortly before the war started, but that war is best forgotten, too many died, all the murder and death coming from all those border ruffians and "red leg" murderers made for nothing but pain and hard feelings. Brian tells me you folks here in the future play act the war, those of us who lived through it just want to forget, it was a bad time…a bad time for all." Then Craig did something that surprised me. Putting the gun down on the table, he offered a most sincere apology.

"Ma'am, I'm terribly sorry, I didn't know. We lost a lot of kin as well, please forgive me, I won't speak of it again." Montana seemed genuinely moved by his apology, and took his hand.

"Apology accepted Craig, and I'm sorry for being so rude, however, you may want to temper your enthusiasm for the south, even though only eleven years have passed since the war, you will encounter, many who think that it is still being waged, and they might not take kindly to your remarks."

"She's right," I added, "Don't forget Craig, reconstruction is in full place, and the south is pretty pissed about it. Anyway, I'd probably leave that pistol here, if you want to carry a gun like that, I think we can fix you up." I then detailed our effort at bringing firearms back and selling them at gun auctions. Then Craig admitted that he had only ridden a horse once in his life,

"Just 'cause I come from Texas, don't mean I can ride a horse," he confessed.

"That's all right," I replied, Mark and I are still getting the hang of it, and hell! I come from Wyoming." I then explained to Craig that while he would not be a partner, I would see to it he was well paid, and that if he took any side jobs, that money was all his as well.

"So what do you think Craig?" I asked, "In or out?"

Thinking a moment, he let out a deep sigh, then shrugged,

"In!"

"Good deal," I said, "Tomorrow morning we return to those thrilling days of yesteryear."