MOJAVE MULESKINNERS

Trudging slowly along on mule back in the desert while waving off nit flies and flies from my mount, and trying to stay just in front of the dust raised by his feet, I looked into the far distance at my destination. Twenty more miles to go and three canteens of water. Lucky that the temperate was only around ninety. I watched old Basil's head swing to and fro and let the morphosis of monotony sweep over me and the haziness of my mind overcome the weary miles by drifting into slumber. When I focused my eyes once again I was on the opposite slope having covered maybe five to seven miles in that relaxed state. Reining old Basil toward a Joshua tree I rolled from the saddle and swung a canteen off the pommel. Uncorking it I poured a goodly amount into the top of my hat and let my loyal steed drink a bit before swigging a share for me. Then wearily I sat down and leaned back against the Joshua tree while Basil stood in what little shade it offered. I closed my eyes once again and was content to let my mind swing into neutral.

 

There would come a day when we could step into capsules and be shot across the vast sweeps of this desert at blinding speeds. And freight would be moved clear across the nation in 32 hours coast to coast. People will travel through the skies at velocities faster than my .45s bullets travel. Cities will have populations exceeding millions and communication with the world will be at our fingertips. Buildings will easily reach beyond a hundred stories and bridges will span mile wide waterways. Children will drink milk and eat food from cardboard boxes, vegetables from a field picked a thousand miles distant the day before. We'll wear clothing spun from chemicals that will keep us warm without being heavy on our shoulders. Water will flow in houses and baths can be drawn in minutes or we can stand and let it pour over us. We will know what is going on halfway around the world by way of electronic images transported by beams from a glass. They'll have cures for hydrophobia, typhoid fever, and headaches. We won't have to cut down trees to burn for wood to cook by. Fires will be in pristine kitchens and women won't get bit by spiders and scorpions from the wood beside the stove.

Oh what a wonderful time we'll have then, we'll be able to spend time with our children, with our old parents, travel to distant places in a mere fourteen days, wallow in the lap of luxury being totally unafraid of anything terribly bad happening to us. We can enjoy each others company and spend quality time chatting with our neighbors, develop hobbies to fill our idle time because the workday will be but eight short hours. Why, it will simply be heaven!

 

My head was hammered against the tree three times before I realized old Basil was pushing it with his nose wanting me to get up and get on with the task at hand. Holding on to his bridle for balance, I lifted myself up and patted his old neck. Doing the water routine again I pulled my damp hat down over my head and laboriously hoisted myself up into the saddle. Punching Basil in the flanks with my heels I reined him around and back onto the dusty trail. My eyes lifted again to the distant hills yonder. I breathed a long listless sigh knowing it would be after sundown before old Basil and I reached our destination. I figured I wouldn't stop for anymore rests. Them dreams I have must be due to what I et. Come to think of it. . . . . . what did I eat last? Oh well, good times are comin' one day soon. Gid-ap Basil!

 

~ Weakeyes Cody