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Ride, Ride, Ride

I was born and raised as a country boy in the rural Pocono Mountains of northeastern Pennsylvania. I love the art of writing..

ride-ride-ride

I was living in the mid 1800s, a young boy of about 16. I had a tough life, my father left when I was a young boy. That left me often fending for my own since my mother was an alcoholic. Without a father or mother to care for me, it left me with no one.

I often fell asleep under this one large tree on the prairie. I guess you could call it my home since I never really had one. I don't know what it was about this tree but I felt safe there. I don't know how I the tree could have protected me, but I was sure it could.

There were a lot of bad men in the area. Town was about ten miles away, but men often roamed the area. Whenever I saw any men I would huddle around that tree. It was like a fort to me.

It was in the sweltering heat of mid summer that I saw a cloud of dust coming my way. As it got closer I could see there were eight men on horseback. I knew they were trouble. I glanced to my right and there was one lone buffalo standing a few feet from me. It turned its head staring straight at me as much as to say, "Hop on young man."

I ran to it and jumped on the back of that buffalo and we took off. Going across the prairie at breakneck speed. I turned and saw the cloud of dust caused by the men chasing us. It looked like we were faster than the men but they were not giving up. It seemed like an hour more or less when the buffalo jumped off of a cliff. It never saw it as we tumbled toward the earth several hundred feet below us.

I screamed like I had never screamed before. The next thing I knew I was sitting up in bed shaking like crazy. I was in a cold sweat. It was a dream, I had a bad dream. Yes, this is a true story. I had that dream many years ago, but every once in a while I will think of it. The other day I saw a buffalo on TV and that dream flashed back to me. I guess we all have dreams, many we forget and some stick with us.

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