“Twenty-eight people are dead and two more are missing after a landslide in Rosas, Colombia.”
Journey took the opportunity to change the subject, explaining how television coverage had made the world smaller. “Nothing happens anywhere that isn’t worldwide news in a few hours or less.” She explained about serial television, reality shows, movies, and how everything was paid for with continuous, sometimes mindless commercials.
“I can see where such a thing could be addictive,” he mused, staring at the screen.
“Oh, yes. Certainly. People who watch too much TV are called couch potatoes.”
This made him laugh and she was glad. Their food came and Reno ate every bite, almost scraping the design off the bottom of the plate. “This is amazing. I thought Boone was a master at Louisiana cooking, but this is even better. Of course, he probably didn’t have access to all the ingredients these folks do.”
“You’re probably right. Boone’s from Louisiana?”
“Originally.” Reno dropped his voice to a near whisper. “He was raised in a brothel. His mother was a prostitute. She died when he was twelve and the owner tried to force him to…go to work in a sexual capacity.”
“How horrible. I’m sorry.”
“Yea, me too. Thankfully, he ran away. He had a hard time, of course. Nearly starved to death. He got a job on a riverboat as a cabin boy and that was how he eventually made his way north to Memphis. He had some wild adventures, I tell you. One time he befriended a slave at a plantation and ended up helping him escape. Later, he was on the ill-fated steamship, Philadelphia, when it exploded. He managed to survive, but he saw things that gave him nightmares, like a steel bar being driven right through a man.”
“Wow. That’s tragic.”
Reno nodded, then smiled sadly. “He had some good times too. Spent a few months with the circus. Finally made his way farther north, settling first in Memphis, where he worked in a cotton mill. A few years later he moved close to me, we spent a lot of good times on the banks of the Tennessee River. I swear, Boone did everything from make moonshine to dig graves for the local undertaker.”
“Sounds like he could be Huck Finn or Tom Sawyer.” At his confused look, she started to explain, but the waitress came with their bill. Reno’s praise was so effusive their whole ticket was on the house.
When they returned to the car, she teased him, “I bet you’re always popular with the ladies. I’m going to have to take you everywhere I go. I’ll never have to pay another restaurant bill again.” She giggled helplessly when his cheeks turned pink. “You’re very good-looking, but you know that.”
“No.” He protested – albeit half-heartedly. Reno certainly wasn’t used to women pointing it out. “Females are outspoken these days.”
“Yea, I guess.” She pulled back into the road and headed south. “Okay, this trip is to lighten our mood and give us time to talk. It’s an hour’s drive to the airport and we’ll check out the city skyline on the way.”
Reno threw up his hands. “I didn’t understand half you said, but I’m ready for anything.”
Journey took him at his word. She didn’t want to take advantage, but there was no way she was going to let this time with him be wasted. She wanted to know everything about him. “Oh, yea. I was telling you about Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer. They’re famous books. Classics. Written by a man named Samuel Clements from Hannibal Missouri. His penname was Mark Twain.”
“Mark Twain,” he mused, “that’s what a steamboat leadman yells when they’ve reached a safe depth in the river for the boat to travel.”
“Yes, exactly. Samuel Clements was in love with the river, he thought a steamboat pilot was the epitome of success.” Suddenly, she looked at him, her eyes narrowed. “Do you like to read?”
“I do. I’ve never had the opportunity to do a lot of it since I left Tennessee. Books are hard to come by.”
“When we get home,” she told him, “remind me to introduce you to my kindle. I’ll download you a passel of books and you can go to town.”
When he gave her that now familiar questioning look, she tried to explain, “A kindle is an electronic device that can access digital storage.” When he leaned his head back and closed his eyes in dismay, she just laughed. “Believe me, it won’t take you ten minutes to figure it out. You’re brilliant, you just have to catch up with technology. A kindle this thick…” She measured the narrow distance with her fingers. “Can hold thousands of books.”
“You’re pulling my leg.”
She reached over to squeeze his knee. “No, I’m not. Just wait until I show you how to download music. I’ll introduce you to the King. Elvis Presley from Memphis, Tennessee. He’ll blow your mind.”
Reno captured her hand and brought it back to his knee. “Consider it already blown. I would very much like to be introduced to your kindle – but first, I want to read Saul’s journal.”
“Of course, you do. I’ll give you everything Aunt Myra saved.” It was hard to think clearly when he was holding her hand. Journey met her own eyes in the rearview mirror, sharing a secret smile as tingles of excitement played over her body. “Uh, do you have a special girl back in time?”
“No. I do not. Women are in short supply in Kingsland. It’s better than it was, I’ll admit, but I’ve not met anyone yet. I guess you know the Captain’s wife was a mail-order bride.”
“Yes, I remember. Saul spoke so highly of her.”
“Fancy rescued King. After his fiancé betrayed him by marrying his brother – he soured on half the population.
