Go West ... Keep Going

"Man! This is going to be great ... when I get there!"

Foster cannot hold back his excitement as he drives down the road to The West's West. It's a theme park town that's right out of an old 1950s or '60s television western. It has a general store, stable, sheriff's office, and quick draw gun fights at high noon, or whenever the script calls for one.

Foster's blue 2010 Hyundai Accent humes down the highway as he imagines all the fun he will have.

"I wonder if they serve real beer in the saloon? Ahhhh, of course they do. They're supposed to be authentic."

Foster has been driving for hours but it seem like days.

"This highway just keeps going. Like it'll never end. Just one straight road."

As that thought floats in his mind, Foster sees a house off the highway.

"I'll stop and see if anyone is home, so I can check my directions. I want to make sure I'm going the right way."

The house is about 50 feet from the road with shrubs and bushes surrounding it. Foster pulls into the dirt driveway and up to the front steps. It's a ranch style house with blue siding and red shutters.

"Hel ... "

Before Foster can yell a hello a figure comes out from the back of the house. He appears to be in his 70s by the look of his tan leather skin. The man is wearing gray knee length shorts with brown cowboy boots and no shirt. His six pack abs are offset by patches of gray hair on his chest.

"What chu want boy?"

"Good morning sir. Sorry to bother you. I'm on my way to The West's West and I want to know how far it is and if I'm on the right road."

"First off boy it aft noon not mornin'!"

"Okay sir."

"Yeah. And second, I use to work there!"

"Wow! Really?!" Foster's face lights up. "I bet it was so cool!"

"At first it was ", said the man, "but it sucked at the end. I was a featured gun slanger. The best. The people loved to see me."

Foster listens like a six year old hearing a bedtime story.

"No one could outdraw me. Then they brought in this kid. Pretty boy. Said they wanted someone for the young girls to look at. And pretty boy had to win all the gun fights. So he got all the cheers."

"Did you quit?"

"Naw boy! I was fid!"

"Oh. That's too bad." said Foster.

"All they gimme was a check and this house."

Foster looks the house over.

"Well sir, I don't know about the check but this looks like a pretty nice house."

"I don't care! I wanted to keep my job! You should go somewhere else. The place is too expensive and the food is bad."

"Sorry about your experience sir, but I've had my heart set on this for a long time. Please. Am I on the right road?"

"Yeah. Keep going straight and you'll eventually hit it."

With a small huff the man turns and walks back to his yard.

Foster hops back into his car with renewed enthusiasm.

"Almost there! Well, he didn't say that but how much longer can this road be?"

After about an hour of driving Foster comes upon a stopped car on the side of the highway.

"A Hyundai Santa Fe! I wanted one of these. Hmmm ... but not pink."

Foster pulls over to check things out.

"Hope no one's in trouble. The vehicle looks fine. Maybe it stopped running."

Foster walks into the woods that line the highway. He hears a rustling not too deep in. He comes to a small clearing and finds a half dressed couple having an intimate moment. The man is lying on his back with his pants around his ankles. The woman is sitting on top of him with her flowered skirt draped over his middle section. Her sleeveless blue blouse is still on but unbuttoned. Foster gasps at the sight which causes the couple to turn and see him.

"Eeeeeeeeee! Oh my god!" screamed the woman.

"You pervert! Get out of here!" shouted the man.

Foster puts his left hand over his eyes like a visor and runs back to his car. He jumps in but sits for a moment. He has calm down a little. He wasn't expecting to see that.

"Whew! Well ... I guess they're okay."

Foster starts his car and takes off.

The couple has already went back to making out when they here leaves and sticks crackling, and some heavy breathing.

"Oh you back for another eyefull ya per ..."

Before the man can finish his sentence he is struck silent by the sight of a large brown bear.

The long drive on the endless, lonely highway is taking a toll on Foster. He thought he would be there by now. His car clock reads 3:15pm. After almost nodding off for probably the hundredth time he sees lights up ahead. They are police and ambulance lights. There has been a one car accident. The first responder vehicles are blocking the highway so Foster stops his car and turns off the motor. As he looks around at the wrecked sedan he realizes he's the only other traveler on the road. A policeman walks over to his car so Foster rolls down his window.

"Is everything alright officer?"

"Guy probably fell asleep at the wheel. This highway will do that to a person. He bashed his head on the dashboard but he should be okay."

"That's great!" said Foster. "But officer, could you tell me if I'm going in the right direction for The West's West?"

"Oh! The western amusement park!" answered the policeman. "Keep going on this road and you'll run right into it."

"About how far?" asked Foster.

Hmmm ... about 150 kilometers."

"What? Kilometers? I thought I was still in the United States. I don't know the metric system."

"Oh. Sorry. I'm originally from Canada. The U.S. system of measures still baffles me."

"That's okay. I'll look it up on my phone."

One of the other policemen wave for Foster to come through. He starts his engine and carefully eases between the emergency vehicles. Once clear he accelerates to highway speed.

"God! 150 Kilometers. That's about 2 more hours of driving."

An hour passes without seeing anyone else when Foster sees another car on the side of the road. A man is waving for Foster to stop. He is apprehensive but stops anyway. He sees two men both dressed in dirty overalls. They are standing beside an old red pickup truck caked with red clay mud.

"Hey fella. Can you drive us to a gas station? We ran out of gas." said the first man.

The two men seem nervous. They constantly look around. The second man is holding a greasy brown paper bag. Very tightly.

"Look, why don't I just call for help," said Foster.

He takes his phone out but there is no service.

"Darn I ..."

Before Foster can tell the men he looks up to see a gun pointed at him by the first man.

"Get out!!" shouts the second man.

Out of nowhere police cars appear and the two men take off running toward the woods.

"Hey mister. You okay?" It's the same policeman from the accident.

"Yes. Just a little scared. Who are they?"

"Couple of gas station robbers." answered the policeman. "Dummies. Robbed a gas station and didn't get gas."

Just then gunshots and screams can be heard coming from the woods but none of the other officers have taken off in pursuit.

"What happened?" asked Foster.

"Rogue bear probably got them. It scared a half naked couple down the highway earlier today."

Foster slightly chuckles.

"We'll find them, or their remains, in a minute. You're free to go"

Darkness begins to set in as Foster's highway trek continues. He sees a small roadside inn and decides to stop and seek directions again.

"Hello sir. Would you like a room"? asked the clerk.

"Well, I was on my way to The West's West and I just wanted to know if I'm going in the right?"

"Oh yes," answered the clerk, "it's a few miles ahead, but it's dark now so it's closed."

"Okay," said Foster, "then I'll take a room."

Before going to sleep Foster watches television as he nibbles on some vending machine snacks. The room TV only gets one channel but it is the Western Channel. He watches Gunsmoke, Bonanza, Wagon Train, The Big Valley, and Rawhide. Then the channel signs off for the night.

Foster dreams about living in the 1880s. Being a cowboy. Riding the range. Playing cards in a saloon. When he wakes up his enthusiasm for the amusement park is renewed.

As Foster checks out he asks the inn keeper how many miles up the road is the amusement park.

"Oh it's about 90 to 95 miles straight ahead. Should take you less than two hours to get there."

Foster sits in his car thinking about the distance the police officer told him yesterday.

"The conversion table said 150 kilometers was 93 miles. I've driven well over that. Maybe he did mean 150 miles. But I've gone even past that. Hmmm ... Well, no matter. The officer was probably confused. He did say our measurements baffled him."

Foster starts his car and continues his drive. Still excited as ever.

"Man! This is going to be great ... when I get there!"