Here at the Ponderosa, Mrs Morgan and I share the shack with our five fur kids, two dogs and three cats. We love them all dearly and do our best to take good care of them. The dogs are easy. They mostly sleep, eat, hang out in the backyard and lay around our computer room, occasionally pestering us for affection at inopportune moments. The cats are another matter. They like to sleep, eat and lay around to, but they also like to cruise around outside, sometimes for hours at a time.
    Today was one of those days. Wilcox, our wacky as a wooden clock, orange cat disappeared for most of the day. Normally she hangs around the back porch chasing insects, squirrels and whatever attracts her attention at the moment. As the day passed, we began to worry about her. There's a family of hawks that hunt food nearby as do the coyotes. Cats are on the same food chain as the rabbits and squirrels and we try to make sure our kids remain safe.
    After an exhaustive search for Wilcox, Mrs Morgan and I decided to wait and see if she'd make it home before darkness arrived. Mrs Morgan decided to retrieve some dinner from the freezer in the garage and much to her surprise discovered our beloved Wilcox had somehow slipped into the freezer earlier in the day while I was reorganizing it's contents.
    She came running through the back door frantically waving the cat's frozen and stiff body wildly in the air. "Look at this! Our poor Wilcox is frozen!"
    I peered intently at the stiff carcass laying on the kitchen counter. "Good grief babe, she IS frozen. Let's pop her in the microwave and see if we can thaw her out."
    Mrs Morgan's expression indicated her disapproval. "You are NOT going to put the cat in the microwave. Now call the vet and tell him what's happened and how we can revive her."
    I dialed the phone and soon heard the vet's voice on the phone. I explained what had happened and asked her what she'd recommend we do. "Excuse me, but did you say put a few drops of gasoline on her tongue?" I was puzzled and amazed, but agreed to give it a try.
    Mrs Morgan managed to procure an eye dropper from a bottle of eye drops and we gently pried the cat's mouth open, depositing a few carefully placed drops of gasoline on the cat's tongue. A few minutes later the cat's eyes popped open and she leaped to her feet running around the living room at a furious pace. Mrs Morgan and I stared in disbelief, amazed at the cats antics. Then all of a sudden the cat jumped off the back of the couch and collapsed in a heap on the rug. We were devastated and puzzled. "What in the hell happened now?" I asked rhetorically.
    Mrs Morgan's anxious expression urged me to place another call to the vet. As soon as she answered I blurted out my question. "Hey Doc! We did EXACTLY what you told us to do. We put a few drops of gasoline on the cat's tongue, she came alive a few minutes later, ran all over the living room for about five minutes and then just crapped out on the floor. What d'ya make of that?"
    The vet didn't hesitate to answer. "H'mmm. Well . . . . I'd say she probably ran out of gas."

Your Element Is Air

You dislike conflict, and you've been able to rise above the angst of the world. And when things don't go your way, you know they'll blow over quickly. Easygoing, you tend to find joy from the simple things in life. You roll with the punches, and as a result, your life is light and cheerful. You find it easy to adapt to most situations, and you're an open person. With you, what you see is what you get... and people love that!

    Flashes of lightning cast frightening shadows on the bedroom wall. Another crash of thunder  rattled the window. Tears fell from Salvatore’s large, brown eyes. He was galvanized in his bed. Light and sound slowly subsided and Salvatore peered into the darkness, his frightened eyes blinking repeatedly as he struggled to overcome his fear. He knew his parent’s bedroom was below him on the next floor. He slid off the bed, crept to the door and peered through the railing on the stairwell. His father lay on the floor in front of his bedroom door. A giant of a man stood over him. The explosions of sound weren’t all thunder. There had been gun shots as well.
    The killer was unaware the only witness to his crime was a three year old boy hiding in an attic bedroom. A little boy frozen by fear. Salvatore watched the man disappear from sight and ran to his father’s side. The concept of death was beyond his grasp. He ran into the bedroom, crying and calling for his mother. She lay on a blood-soaked blanket on the bed. She was dead. Salvatore’s cries continued for nearly an hour. Exhausted and emotionally drained, he fell asleep on the floor by the bed.
    Morning light streamed through the hall window and Salvatore awoke. Presented once again with the gory sight of his dead parents, he made his way  to the neighbor’s home. He was greeted at the door by a slender  man with a friendly face and a warm smile. Anthony  was friendly with Salvatore’s family and knew them well. “Salvatore! What on earth are you doing out here?”
    Salvatore babbled unintelligably and reached up to take Anthony’s hand. Anthony picked Salvatore up and they walked next door. “Angelo! Where are you?” Anthony called out again. “ Carlotta? Anyone home?” He was puzzled. It was unusual for them not to answer. Anthony walked slowly up the stairs and at the landing saw Angelo lying on the floor in a puddle of blood. “Madre di dio! Che cosa?”
    Within minutes police began to arrive. Detectives and crime scene investigators combed through the house, examing every detail of the scene. Salvatore sat silently on the living room couch, comforted by a female patrol officer. “Would you like something to eat?” She asked with a gentle smile. Salvatore nodded his head and followed her into the kitchen.
    As the day passed, Salvatore found himself transported to a new and strange environment. It was a large home, similar to his. Frank and Stella were warm and friendly people, well-versed in comforting children trapped in traumatic experiences. They’d been foster parents to dozens of children and had adopted several. Salvatore was another in a long procession of children who desperately needed their help.
    Over time Salvatore’s sadness and recurring nightmares subsided. By the time he was old enough to begin school he’d developed a strong bond with his new family. He was a quiet boy, tall for his age and slender. His teachers noticed his reluctance to communicate and interact with other children. In class he was unusually silent and on the playground kept largely to himself. At home he was especially close to his foster brother, Frank. They became inseperable and Salvatore shared his fondest dreams and deepest fears with him. As they neared graduation, Salvatore confided in Frank, swearing him to secrecy. “There’s something I need to do. Something I’ve waited all my life for.”
    Frank gave him a quizzical stare. “So what’ve you got on your mind?”
    “I intend to find the man that killed my mother and father.” The coldness in his voice was unnerving.
    “What? Are you nuts? If the police can’t find him how are you gonna do it?”
    Salvatore’s eyes blazed with hatred. “I’ll find him. I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but I will and when I do I’m gonna send him straight to hell.”
    Frank fidgeted nervously. It was a side of him he’d never seen. “Well, if your hell bent to do it I’ll help.”
    “No! This is something I need to do alone. I know you’d help and I sort’ve wish you could help, but you can’t.”
    It was the first and last time Salvatore spoke of his deep-seated vendetta. After high school, Salvatore began working at the steel mill. He devoted his spare time to collecting news accounts and odd bits of information about his parents demise. There was little to go on. Salvatore wanted desperately to track down the killer but there was no way to succeed. It became an obsession, consuming his thoughts and invading his dreams. As the years passed, Salvatore turned to alcohol to help him deal with the demons haunting him.
    The third time he appeared at work intoxicated he was finally terminated. Jobless and addicted to liquor, Salvatore’s life disintegrated. He maintained a meager existence with jobs he got from a nearby  casual labor hiring hall and spent much of his time at The Cellar, a sleazy neighborhood bar frequented by  hoodlums and hookers. He became known as someone best left alone. Those brave enough to engage him in brief conversation generally found themselves on the receiving end of his drunken tirades. No one seemed to believe the stories he told of his parents violent demise.
    Late one evening, as Salvatore sat alone at the bar, nursing a glass of cheap bourbon, a stranger sat down next to him. The stranger had long, black hair tied back in a pony tail and a scar running from his cheek bone to his jaw line. His green eyes had an eerie glow and there was an aura of mystery about him. The bartender stared in amazement as Salvatore turned and spoke to the stranger. Salvatore rarely spoke to anyone in the bar. “Do I know you?” He growled. 
    The stranger turned and looked at Salvatore. His eyes gripped Salvatore like hands on his shoulders. “I’m Charlie Maiara. You don’t know me, but I’ve known you for a very long time. Let’s move to a table where we can speak freely.”
    It was as if Salvatore was in a trance. He listened as Charlie spoke. “I know of your quest, Salvatore. I know the malice you feel in your heart and I know it’s there with good reason. The man who took the life of your mother and father is nearby, much nearer than you realize. Soon you will face him and you will face a choice. You can either spare his life or exact your revenge.”
    Salvatore’s face was a contorted mask of anger and anguish. “Spare his life? Not very god damn likely! I’ve hunted that bastard for years. You say you know where he is. Tell me where then and be on your way.”
    There was a trace of sadness in Charlie’s eyes. “You’ve made your choice then?”
    “I made my choice a long, long time ago. You just lead me to the son of a bitch and I’ll do the rest.”
Salvatore was trembling with anger, anxious to confront the man who had killed his parents. “It doesn’t make a damn to me what happens, but I’m gonna kill him. Now. Are you gonna take me to him?”
    There were a collection of dingy apartments above the bodega. Charlie led Salvatore up the littered stairwell to the second floor landing and pointed at a battered door. “This is his home. Are you sure this is what you wish to do?”
    Without a word, Salvatore stepped past Charlie and beat on the door with his fist. There was no answer. Salvatore turned to curse at Charlie, but there was no one there. Salvatore was alone in the hallway. Seething with rage, he pounded on the door again. Still there was no response. Unable to restrain himself, Salvatore kicked the door. The jamb split apart and the door flew open. There was a man lying face down on the couch. An empty gin bottle lay on the floor and a television droned in the background. Salvatore’s expression froze as he stood peering at the mountain of a man lying in a drunken stupor before him. The man’s face brought back a flood of horrifying memories. Without hesitation Salvatore unbuckled his belt and pulled it free of his trousers. Wrapping it around the man’s throat he tightened it, watching intently as his victim gasped and choked for air.
    Suddenly the room darkened. Salvatore could feel himself swept off his feet. It was as if he were carried by an invisible force beyond his control. He could see the man beneath him, begging for his life. “You rotten bastard! I’m gonna kill you!” He screamed.
    Salvatore felt himself falling. The shock of the impact jarred him. He shook his head, trying to make sense of what had happened. The man he had killed lay at his feet and they were surrounded by sand, sagebrush and rocks. There was nothing but desert as far as the eye could see. Salvatore squinted up at the sun high in the sky and scrambled to his feet. “Where in the hell am I?” His rage was rapidly turning to fear.
    As Salvatore surveyed his surroundings, the man he had intended to kill stirred slightly. He  was certain he’d killed him, but there he was, still alive. Salvatore renewed his deadly efforts. Once again his victim ceased moving. Satisfied that he was indeed dead, Salvatore slowly walked away. As he made his way  up a near-by  ridge, he paused to catch his breath. There behind him, was the man he was sure he’d killed, once again. Salvatore stood staring in disbelief.
    Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a haunting sound in the distance. It was the wail of a locomotive horn. Charlie Maiara’s eyes bored through Salvatore like an auger bit through balsa wood and a long silence before Charlie spoke. “Soon you’ll see a train appear from the south. It is time for you and your foe to ride the Hitchcock Railway. You can leave your hatred in the baggage car. You’ve been carrying it for far too long a time.

    Amos gripped the steering wheel and forced himself to keep his feet on the floorboard and off the brake pedal. A  vicious, winter storm had arrived, coating the roads with a blanket of snow and ice. The headlights shining through the windshield were blindingly bright. Holy shit! This’s gonna be close. Gradually the truck tracked to the right, coming close to the steep embankment on the edge of the road. Amos guided his truck past the oncoming vehicle and heaved a sigh of relief as he realized he’d narrowly averted a collision.  As he rounded a curve he saw lights flashing ahead. It was a vehicle parked on the shoulder and the driver shivering in the darkness. Amos slowed to a stop and walked back to offer assistance.
    He saw an elderly looking woman standing near her car, visibly distraught. “Howdy ma’am. Anything I can do to help?” The woman’s face filled with trepadation. “Ma’am, are you okay?”
    “I think I’ve run out of fuel. My car won’t run and I don’t know what to do.”  Tears began to run down her cheeks.
    “It’s gonna be okay. Let me see what I can do to help.” Amos slid behind the wheel, turned the key and peered at the fuel gauge. “Yup, you’re out of fuel. There’s gotta be a fuel stop somewhere up the road. Let’s go get you some fuel so you can be on your way.”
    The woman was apprehensive. “I really should wait with my car.”
    Amos smiled and nodded. “Okay, I’ll  find some fuel. Just stay in your car and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
    Twenty miles of desolate highway separated the stranded woman from town. Amos rummaged through the tools and equipment in the back of his truck and found a battered can. He filled it with fuel and turned onto the highway, returning the way he’d come. He parked behind the stranded automobile. The elderly woman emerged, shivering as she approached. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all your help.”
    Amos smiled at her as he poured the last of the fuel from the can. “It’s no problem. Glad to help. Give it a try now.” The engine sputtered briefly and began to run. “Looks like your set. Be careful driving into town.”
    The woman gave him a hug, her head barely reaching his chest. “Thank you again.”She smiled up at him. “I don’t even know your name.”
    “Amos, ma’am.”
    “Amos, you’re a wonderful man. My name is Mabel. Are you sure I can’t pay you for your trouble?”
    “No need for that. I was glad to help.”  Amos smiled as she drove away.
    Daylight was an hour away when Amos arrived at the job site. This was going to be an especially challenging project. Ice and snow covered everything and the brisk wind cut through him like a knife. The first of several trucks loaded with tools and equipment arrived just as he was unlocking the job trailer door.
    Davey approached and gave him a cheery smile. “Mornin’ Captain!”
    “What’s good about it?”
    Davey smiled. “You gotta be kidd’n. You see how many women there are in this town?”
    “You aren’t gonna have a hell of a lot of time to be chasing around. This job’s gonna beat us to death. I can feel it in my bones.”
    As the week got underway, Amos was pleasantly surprised. The weather cleared and the days were cold, but sunny. The crew was well on their way to successfully completing another project. If all went well they’d be finished and home for the holidays. Amos hoped so. No time on the road was more lonely than spending the holidays far from home, stuck in a motel.
    “Let’s call it a day, gentlemen!”  Amos hollered to the crew. “Get the tools stowed away. I hear someone call’n my name down at that bar in town.”
    Amos glanced at his fuel gauge and cursed. Son of a bitch. I’ve barely got enough fuel to get into town. His mind drifted back to the elderly lady he’d encountered on the highway outside of town. He turned into the fuel station and noticed a familar looking vehicle.  It was Mabel, standing in the cold pumping fuel. “Hi Mabel! How ya doing tonight?”
    “Well hello Amos. It’s nice to see you again.”
    “It’s awfully cold out here. Why don’t you go on inside and warm up a little and I’ll finish filling your tank.”
    Mabel gave him a smile. “Oh, that’s alright. My daughter says it’s high time I begin doing more for myself. But thank you for offering.” She finished filling her tank and went inside to pay her bill. When she returned she hesitated and turned to Amos. “Are you staying in town for awhile?”
    “Yea, sure am. Well, another week that is. We’re working at the power plant on the old highway.”
    “You must be getting tired of restaurant food then. Why not come by my place for Sunday supper?”
    “Thanks for the invite.  A home-cooked meal does sound mighty good.”  Amos scrawled directions to her home on a notepad.
    The next afternoon Amos arrived at Mabel’s house, a quaint cottage on a quiet street. It was much as Amos imagined it would be. The furniture was old and comfortable. There was a well-worn rug covering the hardwood floor and pictures everywhere. An oil stove perched on a tile pedastal in the corner of the room and the aroma of roast beef filled the air. A woman appeared in the hall doorway. She smiled at Amos and extended her hand. “Hi. You must be Amos. Mom’s told me a lot about you. I’m Judy.”
    “Well, I sure hope you don’t believe everything you hear.” Amos smiled and took her hand. “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Doesn’t happen that way for me often.”
    “I’m sure glad you were there to give mom a hand. It’s been tough for her since dad passed away. They were married fifty-three years and she’s lost without him.” There was a trace of sadness in Judy’s eyes. “Sit down and tell me about yourself. Mom’s gonna be in the kitchen for awhile. She’s happy to have company.”
    Judy was an attractive woman with an athletic build, brown eyes and long dark hair that hung down to her waist. She worked at the local feed store and lived south of town in a ramshackle ranchhouse. In her free time she played music with her friends at some of the local bars.  Amos’s was curious. “What type of music do you play?”    
    “Blues. I’m lead singer and play harp.”
    Amos grinned. “Damn. I’d like to drop in and hear you play sometime. I blow a little harp myself.”
    “Get out!” Judy exclaimed. “Well, you’ve gotta come down to the Red Line Bar tonight and sit in with us.”
    The conversation continued as Amos enjoyed a sumptious meal with his new friends. Mabel enjoyed the company and shared stories of her life with Matthew, her late husband. He had been a logger all his life, a  mountain of a man from what Amos could tell from the pictures Mabel showed him. The pictures of Judy’s mother and father made it easy to see where she’d gotten her striking features. Her ethnic mix of Irish and Portugese evoked a powerful sensuality not at all lost on Amos.
    The band was just beginning their first set when Amos arrived at the Red Line Bar. Judging from the architecture it was a renovated warehouse. Cable spools were fashioned into tables and the stools were made from old nail kegs. Amos sat down, ordered a drink and settled back, listening to the music. Judy’s abilities as a musician were impressive. Her voice was strong and resonant and her harmonica solos were outstanding. Amos was on his third drink when the band finished their first set. Judy joined him at the table. “Well? What d’ya think?”
    “Damn, girl! You’re good! Real good.”
    “C’mon up and join us for the next set. We’d love to have you sit in.” Judy smiled excitedly.
    “I haven’t sat in with anyone for awhile so don’t expect anything fancy.”
    Before Amos realized it, closing time came and Judy walked him to the door, smiling and laughing. “I really enjoyed having you with us tonight.”
    “I had fun. Thanks for letting me sit in with ya. You wanna have dinner with me tomorrow night?”
    Judy smiled. “I’d like that. What time’s good?”
    “I’m not sure how late we’re gonna work tomorrow. I’ll give you a call when I finish up.”  Amos handed her his notepad and she jotted her phone number. “Oh. I forgot to write my name with the number.”
    Amos grinned. “Yea, like I’m not gonna remember you. Don’t you worry, I’ll call.” He gave her a kiss and left.    
    It felt like he’d been asleep no more than an hour when the alarm jangled Amos awake. Son of a bitch’n alarm. He considered throwing the alarm against the wall, but thought better of it. Dressed and barely awake, he left for the diner. Members of the crew were drifting in, a motley collection of men, none of whom appeared to be fully awake. Amos decided on a light breakfast; several cups of coffee and a few cigarettes.  An hour later they  were at the job site, ready for another day. Amos was unusually quiet as he set about the day’s tasks. It was cold and a wet snow fell, making the day  less than pleasant. The morning seemed to go on forever. Lunch time finally arrived and the crew reassembled at the crowded diner. “Hey,
Captain. You sure been quiet this morning. You plott’n something?”
    Amos smiled. His thoughts returned to the night before. Judy was someone he could easily become very fond of. Amos finished his lunch and drove back to work. The afternoon passed more quickly  than the morning and the snow storm passed. It was well past dusk when the crew finished for the day and headed into town.
    Amos dialed the phone, still dripping wet from his shower. Judy answered and they agreed to meet for dinner. Amos was in the bar when Judy arrived. He nearly dropped his drink when he saw her. She was wearing a wine-red dress, low-cut with slits on both sides. Her black stilletto heels completed the ensemble. Judy slipped into the booth next to Amos and smiled. “Sorry I’m late.”
    He returned her smile. “Don’t worry, I just got here myself.”
    The evening passed quickly. After a leisurely meal they returned to the bar and spent hours talking. Amos shared stories of his travels  and Judy told him about living in San Francisco. She had married a musician she met while working in southern California. Judy endured three years of his infidelity and eventually filed for divorce. She stayed in San Francisco and didn’t return home until her father died.
    It was nearing closing time. Judy glanced at her watch. “Oh! It’s late and you’ve got to be at work in a few hours. I’ll bet you’re dead on your feet.”
    Amos gave her a weary smile. “It is  late but I hate leave you. I’ve only got a few more days until we finish work. Let’s get together when the job’s done and celebrate.”
    “I’d like that. You’ll call me?”
    “You can bet the ranch on it!” Amos walked her to her truck and watched as she drove away. Amos was surprised by his feelings. It was going to be difficult to leave her when it was time to move on. The scent of her perfume lingered as he drifted off to sleep.
    “Jesus! Your eyeballs look like pissholes in the snow.”  Davey joked as Amos seated himself at the counter.  “You get any sleep?”
    Amos frowned. “You write’n a book?”
    Fatigue was setting in as the day progressed. Amos forced himself back to work after a short lunch break. He knew he was pushing hard, but he wanted this job done. His mind was made up. When this project was done he was going to take some time for himself. It had been more than a year since he’d passed up a project. A  layover would be a welcome break and long overdue.
    Amos showered, ate a quick dinner and fell into bed. He awoke to the sound of the phone ringing. It was Judy, calling to wish him a good day. Amos was grinning like a kid with a jar full of cookies when he arrived at the diner.
    As the day drew to a close, Amos considered inviting Judy to spend the evening with him, but thought better of it. The project was in it’s critical phase and the potential for error was high. Amos knew fatigue could lead to miscalculation and it was a risk he couldn’t take. He showered, ate and returned to the motel. He lay on the bed, smoked his last cigarette of the day and fell asleep.    
    Amos thought he was dreaming, but there it was again. A  light knock on the door. He tugged on his trousers, certain it was one of the crew,  too drunk to remember which room was his. He pulled the door open with a scowl. “Yea , what! Oh!”.”
    It was Judy. “I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to surprise you. I can go if this’s a bad time.”
    “Not on your life!”  Amos pulled her close and gave her a  kiss.
    Judy playfully pushed him onto the bed. “If you’ll lie down and be still  I’ll give you a surprise. Amos complied as Judy unbuttoned her levis, let them fall to the floor and slowly pulled her shirt over her head.
Judy straddled his hips with her legs and began slowly massaging his back. Her soft hands glided over his skin and Amos could feel the tension draining from his body. The mixture of relaxation and arousal was intoxicating. Judy leaned forward, buried her hands in his hair and kissed the back of his neck.
    Amos moaned quietly. “Mmmmm, you’re gonna drive me crazy if you keep doing  that.”
    With a giggle, Judy playfully bit Amos’s shoulder. “Maybe you better roll over then.”
    Lying on his back, Amos gazed at Judy sitting atop his torso.The sight of her firm breasts and erect nipples was more than he could resist. He gently massaged the mounds of flesh and teased her nipples with his fingers. Judy’s nails dug into his flesh, gently clawing his belly. She repositioned herself between his legs and unbuttoned his trousers. Taking his erect cock in her hands, she slowly stroked his shaft, smiling as she saw the firey passion in his eyes. Judy slid off his body, deftly removed his trousers, slipped out of her thong and returned to her position between his thighs. Amos wrapped his  legs around her waist and drew her crotch into him. His shaft slowly penetrated her eager pussy and Judy moaned loudly, as her breath came in raspy bursts.
    “Oh, baby! Oh . . .that feels so good.” Judy licked her lips, gasps of pleasure coming in short, ragged bursts. Amos drove his hips upward, meeting each ofher powerful thrusts, as he mauled her breasts with his hands.
    Judy pumped her hips with a wild rhythm, clawing his waist and hips as she slid closer and closer to the edge of ecstacy. A guttural scream filled the air as she arched her back and quivered violently, orgasm sweeping through her body like a windswept forest fire. She gasped for breath as she fell forward burying her face in Amos’s chest. He continued to drive his cock into her, holding her by the hair as he pumped violently. “Oh! Oh! Oh, Jesus!” Amos’s body arched up, reaching for the ceiling as he exploded in a furious release of hot liquid.
    Their lips met and they kissed, the sound of rapid breathing slowly subsiding. Judy pressed her body close Amos, her warm breath splashing onto his chest as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.
    The annoying racket of the alarm jolted Amos awake. He sat up and lit a cigarette, careful not to awken his sleeping lover. Without a sound, he dressed in the darkness, stubbed out his cigarette and left. A contented smile was spread across his face as he entered the diner. Davie glanced up as he sat down.
“Damn! There ain’t no point in asking how your night went.”
    Amos grinned at his friend. “You just make sure you eat a big breakfast. We’re gonna kick some ass today.” By late morning the sun had burned through the clouds and it was as if the gods were smiling down on the crew. Amos was in an especially good mood. The crew knew the reason and knew it was best not to comment. As darkness descended over the job site, the weary men stowed their tools and trudged toward the parking lot. Davey walked beside his friend. “We should be ready for a start-up tomorrow, don’t ya think?”
    Amos gave him a tired smile. “Damn sure should. You guys have done one hell of a job. I’ll see ya’ll at the diner. I gotta grab a shower first.” There was a note pinned to Amos’s motel room door. It was from Judy. He smiled as he sat on the bed reading.
    After a relaxing shower he joined his friends for dinner. They sat around  the table, bickering good-naturedly as they ate. Amos felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Judy standing behind him. “Hi ya babe! Glad you could make it.” She pulled up a chair up and joined them as Amos introduced her to the crew.
    Dinner finished, the men drifted out of the diner, leaving Amos and Judy alone. Amos told Judy they’d likely finish their job the next day and a hint of sadness showed in her eyes. “Does that mean you’ll be leaving town soon?”
    “Well, I was thinking about staying around for awhile. I’ve got some off-time coming and I figured I just might use it.”
    Judy threw her arms around his neck. “I was hoping you’d say that!”
    Amos smiled. “That’s the good news. Bad news is, I need to go back to the motel and get some sleep.  These twelve hour days aren’t easy. I’m not as young as I used to be.”
    “You’re young enough for me, mister.” Judy grinned. “Why don’t I meet you at the Red Line tomorrow night? From what you’ve told me you and your crew’ll have some partying to do, right?”
    “Yup! We do. It’s part of the job description. Gotta party hard when the job’s done. I’ll see you at the bar.” Amos watched as Judy walked away and whistled loudly. “Damn! Wish I had that swing in my back yard.”
    Judy turned and gave him a teasing smile. “You will have, baby. You will have.
    The roar of machinery filled the air and Amos watching the gauges and dials on the control panel. Amos was anxious to be on his way. He had plans and he didn’t want to be delayed. “C’mon you guys, lets get loaded up and out’a here.”
    There was an envelope attached to the door as Amos entered his room. Inside was a note and a thin strip of cloth. It was a thong. Judy’s thong. Amos shuffled through his paperwork, filling out the necessary job completion reports and payroll records. It was imposible to concentrate. He had other things on his agenda at the moment.
    After a quick dinner, Amos arrived at the Red Line Bar. Most of the crew was already there. Davey was chatting with an attractive blond and John was seducing a tall brunette cowgirl at the jukebox. Judy was seated at a table with several of the crew. Her eyes lit up as she saw Amos coming through the crowd. “About time you got here!” She yelled, over the raucous noise of the bar. “I’ve been waiting for you since noon.”
    Amos grinned and gave her a hug and a kiss. “Was I worth the wait?”
    Judy smiled. “I hope so.”
    It was near closing time when Amos leaned close to Judy and whispered in her ear. “Lets slip on out’ve here and go back to my room.”
    “I’ve got a better idea,” Judy countered. “Let’s stop by your room, pack up your stuff and go out to my place.”
    Amos made the rounds of the bar, assuring his crew members he’d catch up with them down the road. No one in his line of work ever said good-by. The lights on Judy’s truck were disappearing into the distance as Amos did his best to keep up with her.  Damn, woman! You’re gonna have to slow down a little or I’m gonna be off the road and in the ditch. The road was narrow and winding, made worse by the pitch blackness of a moonless night. He caught up as she slowed and turned into a long driveway. Amos climbed out of his truck shaking his head. “Damn! You ever think about stock car racing for a career?”    
    “I sure do hope you don’t have that much trouble keeping up with everything you do! “Judy teased. Amos felt a sense of comfort settle around him as she led him into the house. The furniture was old but functional. The scent of wood smoke eminated from the wood stove burning in the corner of the large living room. Judy led him down the hallway to the bedroom. The floor was covered with an intricately braided rug and a huge sleigh bed rested against one wall. There was a well-worn seaman’s trunk at the foot of the bed, something passed down from Judy’s father to her, Amos suspected. He set his seabag on the floor and walked to the window. “It sure is peaceful.” Amos peered into the darkness, his eyes surveying the sillouette of the treeline. “I can see why you like living here.”
    “I love it here.” Judy smiled up at him. “You gonna spend the night staring out the window?”
    She pulled him close and gave him a passionate kiss. Amos wrapped his arms around her and gently kissed her neck. Judy fumbled with the snaps on his shirt, anxious to unwrap his willing body. Moments later they lay together on the bed, Amos nibbling gently at her firm mounds of flesh. His mouth closed over her erect nipple and his tongue swirled slowly, teasing and tantalizing  as he moved slowly from one breast to the other. Judy moaned as her body surged under him. She tugged at his hair, guiding his eager mouth to every sensual destination her body had to offer.
    Amos descended slowly down her body, exploring her hips and inner thighs with his hands and then with his lips and tongue. Judy’s moist pussy quivered as he pressed his face to her, his tongue lightly licking the lips of her slit. Her legs encircled his head and she pulled his hair harder, gasping with pleasure as he continued sucking and licking relentlessly. “Oh, baby, oh that feels sooo good!” 
    Judy pumped her hips as the waves of pleasure grew higher. Pulling himself free, Amos lowered himself onto her writhing body, the head of his cock slowly penetrating her. Judy pulled at his hair as she thrust herself upward, anxious to meet his every stroke. The walls of her cunt closed tightly around his shaft and he moaned, feeling the warm sensation of arousal careen up his spine. Their legs intertwined as they thrashed together in a primal dance of passion, Judy’s screams of pleasure growing louder and louder. “Fuck me, baby! Oh! God that feels good!”
    Amos could feel himself nearing ejaculation and struggled to hold back, not wanting to preclude Judy’s impending burst of pleasure. She released his hair and dug her fingers into his flesh as she exploded in a flurry of thrusts. “Oh! Oh! Ohhhhh!” He could feel the warmth of her love liquid as her body shuddered with finality. The sensation of her orgasm made Amos even hotter as he pounded her crotch with his. “Ohhh!  I’m gonna come!” Judy could feel his love juice fill her pussy as she ground her hips, anxious to milk ever drop of him.
    Amos awoke to the smell of fresh coffee and bacon. The sun shone through the window and Judy was nowhere to be seen. Amos tugged on his levis and stumbled down the hall to the kitchen. Judy was busy at the stove and music was playing on the stereo. He approached her from behind and slid his arms around her. “Mornin’ sunshine.”
    “Hey! You’re awake.” Judy pouted. “Well, you’ve ruined my surprise. I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed.”
    “I’ve got a better idea. How ‘bout desert in bed after breakfast?”
    Judy wrinkled up her nose and giggled. “Just like a man. Sex and food.”
    A week passed, as Judy and Amos spent time together. During the days while she was at work, Amos explored the valley on horseback. During the evenings they lay together, making love and sharing their wildest dreams and deepest fears. Part of Amos wanted him to stay. It was what Judy was hoping for.
    Early one morning Amos lay  next to his lover, listening to her breathing as she slept. In the distance he could hear the faint call of a lonesome train whistle. It was time to leave. With misty eyes, he quickly scrawled a farewell message on a notepad and left it on the pillow.
    Judy stood in the window, tears running down her cheeks as she watched the lights of his truck slowly disappear from sight. She told herself he’d be back again. Sometimes wishes do come true.