The young man was confused. His horse edgy, restless. So much noise. He’d seen horseless carriages, but this was crazy. Those things were fast, going every which way. How many directions in a small town not much bigger than those with which the Lone Ranger and his faithful Indian Companion Tonto were familiar.
Different trees. No cactus. Churches the same. But so many? Why would a small town need so many churches? You’d think one or two would be enough.
Silver whinnied. Lone released his neck rein so he could graze. Soft, green grass. Not coarse prairie grass. He needed to figure out how he’d wound up here. He thought back, trying to reconstruct events. He and Tonto had pitched camp by the Arkansas River, not far from Wichita. Built a fire. Then they heard something. Told Tonto to stay put, he’d check it out.
A weird noise. Sucking, whirring … like a tiny tornado. But not loud. A purr rather than a roar. He’d thrown a saddle on Silver, gone to investigate. In the middle of nowhere, a vortex hovered in the air. He’d ridden closer to get a better look. Whoosh!
Lone had experienced strange things in his 31 years, but this was the weirdest. He’d been transported somewhere else. Some time else, too, if those … vehicles? were any indication. Those wires couldn’t be telegraph wires. Too many. Too thick. Electricity? He’d heard you could get it in San Francisco. Out east too.
“Well,” thought Lone. “I’ve got my gun, ammunition, silver bullets. Silver. There must be work for me here. There’s always a job for The Lone Ranger.”
He looked around. He was on a green lawn surrounded by white churches. A few statues. Likely a village common. Not west of the Mississippi. This looked like pictures he’d seen of New England. He must be there.
It was all connected to the odd disturbance in the air. A doorway? Through … time? Space? Lone was an educated man. He read books. He’d heard of things like “time travel.” He’d never believed it. Why him? Only one possible explanation. The town was in trouble. They needed him.
He hadn’t seen anyone on horseback or driving a buggy. Just those noisy things. He had to figure out why he was here. Across the street, next to another big white church stood a brick building. A library. Well, where better to start collecting information? Librarians always know what’s going on in town.
“Look,” cried some teenage kids, “It’s the Lone Ranger! And Silver! Hey, where’s Tonto? Whatcha doin’, huh? Cool horse!”
“Okay,” muttered Lone to himself. “They know who I am. Now, I have to figure out who they are, where I am and what I need to do to get home.
He dismounted to lead Silver across the road. He’d ask the librarian. Then, he could start unraveling the mystery. He wished Tonto was here. It would be good to share this adventure with his friend.
He looked around. “Hi yo Silver,” he added softly. “I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Characters that Haunt You (dailyprompt.wordpress.com)
- The “real” LONE RANGER (larahentz.wordpress.com)
- “Characters that haunt you.” (mroziuk1.wordpress.com)
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Characters that Haunt You: Vetfaan. (rolbos.wordpress.com)
- At Home with the Lone Ranger (themirrorobscura.com)
- ” I told you, I don’t shoot to kill. I want a silver bullet to be a symbol of justice.” (keepthecoffeecoming.wordpress.com)