story (Halloween Cowboys)

                          Halloween Cowboys

When I was growing up in the fifties and sixties, cowboys were very prevalent. John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, James Stewart, and Gary Cooper were on the Big Screen. We watched Bonanza, The Big Valley, Wanted Dead or Alive, Have Gun Will Travel, and many other Westerns every week on Television. If one wanted to be a Cowboy, there were many examples of the life style to emulate. Even if it was the Hollywood version. To do so, though, required some things I did not have readily available. Things like guns and horses. And of course, there would be no Cowboy adventure if there were no villain. I grew up in a very small town. We didn’t experience hard core villains. On that Halloween night in 1968, our testosterone was running rampid as a result of all that had just happened. Because of the pumpkin incident, we had convinced ourselves that the “bad guy” knew where we were that night and he was coming after us. When the encounter with the villain happened, we were on our way to celebrate Halloween at Ed’s house. Our intent was to enjoy a weekend of horseback riding and camping. We had plans to herd some cows like Rowdy Yates in “Rawhide”. Ed and I were going to meet up with Bill and Jackson at my house that fateful day after school. Bill had the biggest car. So the plan was for all of us to pile into his big 1966 four door green Plymouth Fury III. It wasn’t the super stocked cool car most of the hot shot guys were driving. But hey! It more than met our needs. Ed lived way out in the country. We would have to drive down the county blacktop a few miles before reaching his lane. His family’s farm bordered a state park. We were almost at Ed’s lane when we saw a car parked on the side of the road and some guy walking toward us. He was carrying what looked to be a briefcase in his hand and wearing a nice business suit. We were pretty sure he had some kind of mechanical problem, but we were in a hurry to start the weekend. Ed’s lane was just in sight so we decided to drive on by. Just as Bill began to slow down, Ed did something totally unexpected. He picked up the pumpkin he brought with him. It was Halloween, after all. Ed told us earlier he was going to give it to his Mother. She made awesome pumpkin pie. Anyway, he rolled the window down. The next thing I saw was the pumpkin flying out of the window. I’m sure Ed didn’t think about the consequences as he chucked it out just as we were passing that fellow. The pumpkin hit that poor guy square in the chest. His arms went skyward, as did his briefcase. The briefcase opened when it hit the ground and papers flew out. The guy tumbled backwards flipping head over heels. He came to a stop face down on the ground. Ed’s eyes got as big as silver dollars. Obviously, there was no intent to hit the man with the projectile he threw out the window. But he did and we were all concerned that the man lying on the ground may be dead. Bill stopped the car and backed up. You will not believe what happened next. The young man picked himself up and ran as fast as he could into the nearby woods. Jackson picked up the papers and stuffed them into the briefcase. Bill, Ed, and I went after the man. We wanted to make sure he was OK. I am, though, sure he thought otherwise because as he ran into the woods he frequently looked back at us. We looked for him for the next couple of hours, to no avail. The weekend activities would have to wait a little while longer. After Jackson said a short prayer for the stranger, we got back into Bill’s car, turned it around, and headed back to town to report what just happened. This incident turned out to be a fortunate thing……..for the town. You see, a local bank clerk had stolen some valuable papers from the town’s only bank. Most likely he was the guy we followed into the woods and probably was on his way to palm them off when he ran across these four teenagers. We thought we were heroes. Even though we were unable to capture the robber, we had, after all returned the stolen papers and saved the town a potential great lose. The Police Chief, however, was not impressed. He would not be recognizing us as town heroes. He reminded us that the pumpkin did fly out of a moving vehicle and hit a pedestrian. It could have been really bad for him, regardless whether or not he robbed the bank. We were thankful for just getting off with a warning. We left the station with a heavy heart. The consequence of our action could have resulted in the death of a man. After leaving the Police Station we headed back to Ed’s family farm. As we left, though, Bill reminded us that the bad guy was “still in the wind” and expressed concern that we could be targeted now. We had seen the robber and maybe he wanted to do away with the witnesses. After a brief discussion we decided the guy was more interested in getting away than in returning to the scene of his crime. And that was that. It was time to finally start our weekend. By the time we got to Ed’s house, it was very late. We just went to bed. The next morning, Ed’s mom fixed us a hearty breakfast, listened to our story about the previous day’s adventure, and then sent us off to saddle up. Ed led the way to his barn. We saddled the horses. They were American Quarter Horses which Ed’s dad used when he competed in national rodeo cutting competitions. We intended to play with some cows and these horses knew how to do it. This was going to be a first for me and I was somewhat anxious about it. I was pretty sure that the cow work I had seen on TV and in the movies was not as easy as it looked. But being young, stupid, and much more pliable, I didn’t care as much as I would today. Riding horses in the fall is probably the time to do it. The cool air. The heat from the horse. It’s enough to warm the body but not enough to encourage sweating. I’m sure as a teenager I did not care much about the beauty of nature surrounding me. But, I remember, I just felt different (more at ease) on horseback that time of year. We rode all day. Even tried to do a little roping. Those poor cows didn’t have a chance. Our Quarter horses apparently had as much fun playing with the cows as we did. Even as a novice rider, I could tell my horse liked what he was doing. Most teenagers are not at their smartest at that age. Getting on that horse for the first time and chasing cows, all on the same day, was most likely a very careless thing to do. But I obviously thought of myself as young and fearless and brave and believed nothing bad was going to happen to me. Besides, I felt as close to being an authentic cowboy as I was ever going to feel. The brand new boots and cowboy hat, I’m sure, did their part in enhancing my western frame of mind. Around 5:00p.m. it was getting dark. We rode up to the coral where we were to turn the horses in for the night. We unsaddled them and turned them loose. I felt like a true cowhand when I carried my saddle to the campsite. Like the horses, we were to spend the night sleeping under the stars. The horses would sleep in the coral. The Cowboys would be sleeping in the bed rolls we brought with us and be using the saddles for pillows. If Rowdy Yates could do it, so could we. There was a cabin available but chose the “Cowboy way”. Remember, I said Ed’s farm bordered on a state park. We set up camp on a cliff overlooking that park. There was a small lake beneath the cliff. A local Boy Scout troop would be camping in that park below us next to the lake. Ed knew about the scout’s campout. He didn’t bother to volunteer that information until we set up our own camp. That was OK, though. We knew some of the boys and thought that later we might try to visit with them. I think we felt like real cowboys up there on that ridge sitting around the campfire, eating the meal we just prepared. I guess we were expecting Clint Eastwood, as Rowdy, to come moseying in from his watch over the herd. “Head ‘em up, move ‘em out, Rawhide!” It was really peaceful and we needed some peace and quiet after what we had been through the last couple of days. But, of course, Ed had other ideas. This setting was perfect for him. Unbeknownst to us, Ed had preplanned this Halloween adventure. He was the practical joker. We knew this and were always in a constant state of vigilance around him. If he was going to pull one off, there was absolutely no way to prepare. The good thing, though, was his practical jokes were always harmless. No one ever got hurt. Ed built the fire pit about fifty feet from the edge of the cliff and behind a couple of big boulders. He told us the boulders would do a great job of reflecting the heat from the fire back to us while we slept. Sure sounded logical to me. I knew the Scouts below us could see the shadows of our campfire reflecting off those big boulders. I’m also sure they could hear us as well. It was the perfect Halloween night movie setting. The night air was chilly and the sky was very dark. But somehow, we could still see the outline of a few clouds lighted by a sliver sized moon. The wind had picked up slightly and we could hear it rustle through the trees. The light from our fire was flickering. We could hear the muffled voices of the Scouts below us, echoing up the cliff. If you think something dramatic is about to happen, you are correct. But it is not what you think. The stress of the previous two days was all but a memory when Ed let us in on his little secret. We were going to give the Scouts a night they were going to remember forever. His plan seemed harmless enough. So we went along. Ed and his father would frequently hunt together and would spend a great deal of their time where we were camping. Ed’s dad had even built a small cabin there. His dad would often leave his hunting arsenal in the cabin. This is 1968, remember, so leaving things like that around was not a big deal. Ed went into the cabin and came out a couple of minutes later with his dad’s 12 gauge shotgun and one shell, which he promptly loaded in the shotgun. Ed started complaining about the food. “Bill, can’t you do anything right?” he yelled. Bill yelled back, “You’re an idiot! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” The Scouts below had to hear this. “Why don’t you get on your horse and get on out of here?” Ed yelled even louder. For emphasis, he threw his arm up and pointed toward the horses. Ed was rather animated. I doubt if the Scouts down below could see this. I guess it helped him get in character. He was a good actor. Even I thought he was serious. Bill shouted right back. “I’m not leaving! You make me!” The two of them were very close to the edge of the cliff. They wanted to make sure they were seen. Ed fired the shotgun and they both fell away from the edge of the cliff and toward us. The shell exploding out of the barrel of that big shotgun lit up the night sky. The boom, I’m sure, could be heard for miles. The four of us all got behind those big boulders and rolled one of them off the edge of the cliff. We could hear the occasional thud as it hit the side of the cliff on its way down. In what seemed like several seconds later we heard the bolder splash into the lake below. As expected the entire troop gathered up their lanterns and headed for where they heard the splash. We watched them for a while and complimented ourselves about how well we pulled off the prank. I think they stayed up all night looking for bodies. A few minutes passed, then Ed reminded us that someone may eventually be coming to our campsite to talk with us. After all, the noise and the flash of light came from our direction. We better get our stories together which of course he had planned for. Plausible deniability was his plan. If asked, we would deny knowing anything about it. We were just up here camping out and enjoying the night air. It wasn’t the best plan. But if we all stuck to it, maybe we would be believed. We were all respectable kids, after all. We went to our bedrolls, closed our eyes, and were asleep. Hey, we were teenagers then and we all know teenagers are not necessarily capable of truly thinking things through to its rational end. Fortunately, no one came to our campsite to question us and when we awoke the next morning, we discovered our practical joke didn’t go exactly as planned. There were all kinds of people dragging the lake for bodies. They even had the county’s volunteer scuba diving team searching. People talked about that bank robber, and the lake dragging for a long time. Ed, Bill, Jackson, and I never told anyone about the rolling stones. These Halloween Cowboys had a secret and we were going to our graves with it.