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“Ohhh,” Gertrude said. “This does look like the Wild West.”
“That’s the Marriott,” Calvin said dryly.
“Well it looks Wild Westy. Wowsa, another hotel! The poor Bullock has lots of competition.”
“Not really.”
She didn’t know what that meant, but she was too busy looking at the fancy buildings to ask for clarification. The next building disappointed, though. “That filling station isn’t very westerny.”
“No, it’s just a gas station like any other. Not everything is historical. This is the twenty-first century.”
Gertrude laughed. “Oh, Calvin, don’t be silly. In the twenty-first century we’ll all be in flying cars.”
Calvin gave her an incredulous look.
“Don’t worry. I’ll still need you. I doubt they’ll let me drive one of ’em.”
He kept studying her. “How long are you planning to be around?”
“One hundred and twenty years,” she said matter-of-factly and returned her attention to the buildings sliding by on her right. “Are we in Deadwood yet?”
“Yes. Look.” He pointed his chin ahead at a sign welcoming them to historic Main Street. A thrill ran through her. They were almost there. She appreciated these legendary hauntings. They gave her something to do between real crimes. “Whoa, what’s with all the motorcycles?”
“We’re close to Sturgis, remember?”
“The fish? What does that have to do with anything?”
Calvin chuckled. “Wild Bill Bar,” he read. “Might need to go enjoy a cold beverage there.”
All the awnings on Gertrude’s side read Deadwood Bad Lands. She found this most confusing. This area looked nothing like Mars.
“There it is.” Again his voice was full of reverence.
Gertrude followed his eyes to a sign that read “Bullock.” She looked the building up and down. “It looks old.”
“It is old.”
“I s’pose it’s allowed to look that way then.”
“Let’s find a campground, and then we’ll come back and visit.”
“Nonsense. You stop right now, and I’ll get a room. Then you and the cats can go camp somewhere.”
He guffawed. “Really? You’re going to let me take care of your cats without your supervision?”
“Don’t be silly. The cats take care of themselves.”
He laughed again. It seemed he was going to drive by the hotel.
“Calvin, stop!” Gertrude hollered so loudly that he jumped.
He slammed on the brakes. “What?”
She pointed. “You need to park!”
“I can’t!” he shouted back. “The parking lot is in back, and that’s a one-way street.”
“Oh.”
The next two streets on their left were also one-way. Gertrude was starting to hate this town.
Finally they came to a road they were allowed to turn left on. Calvin stopped in the middle of the street and turned his blinker on.
And then they sat there.
“Go!” she shouted when she saw an opening.
“Gertrude, I’m pulling a giant decrepit camper. I can’t go pulling out in front of people.”
“Fine.” She crossed her arms in front of her and tried to be patient. The ghost of Seth Bullock had waited this long to be disproved. He could probably stand to wait five more minutes.
Finally, an oncoming truck stopped and let Calvin have his turn. Calvin thanked him with an enthusiastic wave, and Gertrude followed suit with a wave of her own.
“Stop it,” Calvin said through closed teeth. “You’re going to scare them.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you’re smiling like a Stephen King clown and you’re waving like you’re trying to get your hand to fly off.”
A cute little green box rolled by them, and Gertrude giggled with delight. “Deadwood Trolley! I want to ride that.”
“The list of things you want to do keeps getting longer and longer.”
“Thank you.” She loved it when he complimented her.
He took another left, and then they were pulling into a parking lot while she gawked up at the old hotel that now sat on their left.
He grunted. “Pretty sure we’re not supposed to be parking campers back here.” He pulled the camper in so close to the trees that the branches scraped the side of it.
“Careful!” Gertrude said. “You’ll scare Blizzard.”
“What?” Calvin turned the engine off.
“He’s been through a lot in his life. Makes him jumpy.” She grabbed her walker pouch and then practically leapt out of the cab. Then she waited impatiently for Calvin to retrieve her walker from the back. Finally, he did so, and she took off for the street. “I’ll be right back, kiddos!” she called as she went around the end of the camper. “Or at least Calvin would be. She might get so caught up in ghost debunking that she’d have to send him back alone.
She hustled across the street and alongside the famous hotel.
“Gertrude,” Calvin called from behind. “There’s a back door!”
Oh. Whoops. Oh well, too late now. “I’m going in the front,” she called out without turning around. “Don’t want Bullock to think I’m trying to sneak up on him!”
Calvin caught up to her. “That doesn’t even make sense. You don’t think he’s real, but you’re worried about what he thinks?”