interrupted by dreams of sheep, little girls with braids, gawky teenaged boys, and the most soulful voice he’d ever heard. They called to him, but he couldn’t find them.
The following morning, he was confused. The living room was empty. There were no Saturday morning cartoons, no scents of coffee brewing, and Carol’s famous pancakes were still sitting as batter in the fridge. His stomach growled at the thought. It took a circle of the apartment to realize that his parents were still asleep. No one woke up before nine on the weekends. Breakfast wouldn’t be done until eleven. He’d starve before then. A week on a sheep ranch had already changed his sleeping and eating patterns, and he didn’t want to interfere with the delicate inner workings of his appetite.
Moving quickly, he pulled jeans and a t-shirt from his drawer. The jeans immediately settled low on his hips. Frustrated, he grabbed his work belt and cinched it up a notch pulling his t-shirt low to cover it. No one wore belts in his neighborhood, but he’d never been fond of the jeans-hanging-off-the-hips look—or feel.
He laced his shoes, stuffed his wallet in his pocket, grabbed his hoodie and keys, and dashed out the door. Already the familiar gait down the stairs had him in a normal rhythm of life. He sauntered down the sidewalk, around a few corners, and into McDonald’s. As much as he loved biscuits and gravy, he’d missed the familiar flavors of an Egg McMuffin.
At home, the apartment was still and quiet. He flipped on the computer and turned off the speakers as the operating system chimed. He poured his coffee out of the paper cup from the restaurant and into his favorite mug as he waited for the computer to connect to the Internet.
As the search engine loaded all Internet hits for “Argosy Ranch Montana,” Matt clicked on the ranch’s website. He hadn’t realized that they had one, and while no one had mentioned anything, he’d hoped. Now he had a faster way to communicate with them. He clicked on the “contact us” button, started to type, and then closed it out immediately.
Matt stared hard at the screen. He saw the familiar logo and made up his mind. He’d always shared an email address with his parents. He rarely used email, saving his Internet visits for gaming or an eBay search for a game he didn’t have. Now it was time to gain a little Internet independence. He didn’t want to try to explain the cult aspect of Argosy Junction. His parents already thought his church attendance was a little strange.
Feeling awkward and unnerved, Matt went to letterbox.com and signed up for a free email account. He pasted the email address for Argosy Ranch into the “to” box and composed a simple email.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Back in the urban jungle
Hello Argosy Family!
The airline managed to return me to Rockland and in one piece. I have discovered that flying is interesting, but I prefer horses. How long do you think it would take me to ride from Rockland to A. Jct.? Mom and Dad were thrilled with their gifts, and they would like to thank Lane for protecting me from the big, bad sheep.
I thought Lane would like to know that I purchased a wool blanket for Mom from the little gift store next to the gas station. Speaking of the gift shop, the woman in there was very pleasant and helpful, and although she looked like one of the Brethren members, she asked me to tell you that you’re welcome to visit any time and made a point of saying that she doesn’t care if you’re shopping, or not, she just wants to meet you. It seemed odd, but I think she’s sincere.
Please send pictures soon. Mom and Dad believe that I worked with sheep for now, but I can see the skepticism beginning to form and therefore, I need proof and fast. Please save me from a lifetime of mockery and disbelief!
Well, I hear Mom stirring, so I had better say good-bye for now. I want to thank you all again for a
The following morning, he was confused. The living room was empty. There were no Saturday morning cartoons, no scents of coffee brewing, and Carol’s famous pancakes were still sitting as batter in the fridge. His stomach growled at the thought. It took a circle of the apartment to realize that his parents were still asleep. No one woke up before nine on the weekends. Breakfast wouldn’t be done until eleven. He’d starve before then. A week on a sheep ranch had already changed his sleeping and eating patterns, and he didn’t want to interfere with the delicate inner workings of his appetite.
Moving quickly, he pulled jeans and a t-shirt from his drawer. The jeans immediately settled low on his hips. Frustrated, he grabbed his work belt and cinched it up a notch pulling his t-shirt low to cover it. No one wore belts in his neighborhood, but he’d never been fond of the jeans-hanging-off-the-hips look—or feel.
He laced his shoes, stuffed his wallet in his pocket, grabbed his hoodie and keys, and dashed out the door. Already the familiar gait down the stairs had him in a normal rhythm of life. He sauntered down the sidewalk, around a few corners, and into McDonald’s. As much as he loved biscuits and gravy, he’d missed the familiar flavors of an Egg McMuffin.
At home, the apartment was still and quiet. He flipped on the computer and turned off the speakers as the operating system chimed. He poured his coffee out of the paper cup from the restaurant and into his favorite mug as he waited for the computer to connect to the Internet.
As the search engine loaded all Internet hits for “Argosy Ranch Montana,” Matt clicked on the ranch’s website. He hadn’t realized that they had one, and while no one had mentioned anything, he’d hoped. Now he had a faster way to communicate with them. He clicked on the “contact us” button, started to type, and then closed it out immediately.
Matt stared hard at the screen. He saw the familiar logo and made up his mind. He’d always shared an email address with his parents. He rarely used email, saving his Internet visits for gaming or an eBay search for a game he didn’t have. Now it was time to gain a little Internet independence. He didn’t want to try to explain the cult aspect of Argosy Junction. His parents already thought his church attendance was a little strange.
Feeling awkward and unnerved, Matt went to letterbox.com and signed up for a free email account. He pasted the email address for Argosy Ranch into the “to” box and composed a simple email.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Back in the urban jungle
Hello Argosy Family!
The airline managed to return me to Rockland and in one piece. I have discovered that flying is interesting, but I prefer horses. How long do you think it would take me to ride from Rockland to A. Jct.? Mom and Dad were thrilled with their gifts, and they would like to thank Lane for protecting me from the big, bad sheep.
I thought Lane would like to know that I purchased a wool blanket for Mom from the little gift store next to the gas station. Speaking of the gift shop, the woman in there was very pleasant and helpful, and although she looked like one of the Brethren members, she asked me to tell you that you’re welcome to visit any time and made a point of saying that she doesn’t care if you’re shopping, or not, she just wants to meet you. It seemed odd, but I think she’s sincere.
Please send pictures soon. Mom and Dad believe that I worked with sheep for now, but I can see the skepticism beginning to form and therefore, I need proof and fast. Please save me from a lifetime of mockery and disbelief!
Well, I hear Mom stirring, so I had better say good-bye for now. I want to thank you all again for a
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