happy trails

         Slow as a millepede the Skell Van crept down Chewbacca's main street, Ziggy mindful of the newly erected monument to Redbone. Same location. Each time he passed a person, in car or on a bicycle, on foot, jogging or shambling, he honked and waved goodbye. The Potlatch was still closed, but its front porch was rife with loafers. Card playing kartenspielers looked up and saluted. A smile on each face so far. It pleased him greatly that he had made so many friends in this wilderness hamlet named after a Wooky.
          His passenger appeared to be sleeping beneath a vast sombrero.
          He parked outside the CONA radio station. Spoke to his passenger. "Stay here. I won't be a minute."
          Inside he found Tyson Gawain speaking to her radio audience.
          "This just in by word of mouth, folks. From reliable sources at the truckstop. A fellow from Portland is rumoured to be interested in opening a spiffy cafe in the old Potlatch. Gonna have fancy coffees and teas. Free newspapers. Yes, you heard me. Too good to be true, if you ask me."
          The chock-a-block woman resembled The Golem. Right down to Paul Weggener's hair style. She swivelled around and greeted Ziggy.
           "Hey man. What's up?"
           "Got some fresh gossip. Interested?"
           "You betcha."
           "Well, me and Cherry Blossom are moving on."
           "Bust me!"
           "Yup. We're on the way. She was up all night, so now she's catching some zees in the van."
           "Lemmee go say goodbye."
           "Naw naw. C'mere. Look outside. Under the big hat."
           Tyson bellowed: "YOU HAVE A SAFE JOURNEY, CHERRY MY LOVE!"
           The woman beneath the vast sombrero stirred, waved her hand.
           "Well, sir, Mister Zig-Zag," Tyson Gawain said, pumping Ziggy's lubricated hand. "It has been a true pleasure knowing you both. Happy trails."


                                                                                      *


            Five miles outside Chewbacca on a lonely two-rut nature trail, Leah climbed down from the van and walked around to Ziggy's window. She kissed him deeply, a sacrement blessed.
            "Bye bye now." Ziggy croaked. He broke into sloppy tears. And drove away. Leah waved until the Skell Van was no more.
            Then she heard the Indian crank up. Artie's thundering steed. She mounted behind her man and they rode to who-knows-where.