Novel Treatments / Untitled ghost cowboy story

From under the protection of a weathered wooden building Steve took in his surroundings.  Lightening flashed and lit the desert in a brilliant pale blue light.  Mountains shone bright as day against the backdrop of an angry black sky.  Thunder crashed and shook the ground under his feet.  Water roared through the wash across the dirt road that led to the freeway some forty miles distant.  So close yet so far away, due to the raging torrent of water that would surely drown him and his jeep.  Only ten feet across, its depth was unknown, and might as well be the Pacific Ocean.  With the change in the weather his shortcut had become a longcut, and he would surely be late for classes in the morning.  He ran his plump fingers through his dripping, bowl-cut brown hair.  

“God this sucks!” Steve muttered.  He shook water from his flashlight then banged it against the wooden wall of the building.  It flickered to life and its dull yellow beam illuminated gray planks studded by large, old nails.  Resigned to ride out the storm and attempt to dry off, Steve set out for the front door of the building.  He shined the flashlight into the window but couldn’t see inside due to a thin curtain that hung on the other side of the door.  The porcelain knob turned easily and the door creaked open.  Steve stood in the doorway and scanned the room with his light.

Lightning flashed his silhouette on the far wall that was covered in bridles, feedbags, stirrups and yokes.  Saddles stacked up on one another sat in the corner by a glass display case that contained straight razors, combs, pomade and wax.  Shelves behind the counter contained rows and rows of canned goods and glass jars of fruit and jams.  Blankets the size of bath towels lay on one another under the front window and picks and shovels of various sizes and shapes lined the wall behind the door.  It looked like Steve had stumbled onto an old western Hollywood movie set.

Steve stepped into the room and tripped over a tin bucket on the floor.  He shined the light into it and saw it was half-full of rainwater.  He looked up and saw a leak in the ceiling.  Someone had been here since the storm started.

“Hello?” Steve called out.  â€œAnyone here?”  The wooden floorboards creaked as he walked to a closed door past the counter.  He leaned toward it to listen for sound.  

“Hello?” he asked, tapping gingerly on the door.  With no response, he turned the knob to reveal a storeroom.  Wooden boxes lined the room except where a brass bed with a rumpled mattress sat in the corner.  Steve’s flashlight flickered, then left him in darkness.

“Fuck!”  He banged the light against his palm.  The light was stubborn and refused to turn on.  Steve probed the doorframe to orient himself and turned back for the main room.  Thunder rattled the wooden walls.  He followed the flashes of lightning and steady patter of rain back to the entrance.

“I can’t stay here all night,” he whispered in frustration to himself.  The hood to his jeep slammed shut around the corner outside, and Steve jumped.  

“Who’s there?” he asked quickly, holding his flashlight like a club.  He peered around the corner to his Jeep, which sat out in the rain.

“These motorized buggies never fail to amaze me,” a tall shadow said, walking around Steve’s Jeep.  â€œThey don’t run on coal or wood, they don’t need tracks; it’s just amazing.  This is the first one I done seen up close.”

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” Steve said, “I just needed to get out of the storm.”  He cautiously approached the lean figure.

“No bother pard’ner, I don’t sleep and you’re the first person been out my way in awhile.”  Lightning illuminated the man’s coarse, craggy face, weathered and trimmed with a bushy moustache.  His dark eyes were looking over Steve’s Jeep with clear admiration.  

“Whatcha call her?” the man said, gesturing to the Jeep.

“What do you mean—call her?”

“What’s her name?  A man’s gotta name his ride.”

Steve sized the man up.  â€œI haven’t really thought . . .”

“Looks like an Isabel to me.  I really fancy that name.  Isabel the motorcoach.”  The man looked at Steve for approval.

“Yeah, that’s fine I guess.  My name’s Steve.”

“Good to know ya Steve, they call me Judd.”  

Steve shook Judd’s clammy hand.  â€œIs this your place?”

“Nah, I guess you could say I just work here.”  Judd looked the wooden building over.

“Really, how long have you worked here?”

The man thought for a moment.  â€œWhat year is it?”

Steve waited for a sign the man was joking.  â€œUh . . . 2007,” Steve replied.

“Makes it goin on . . .” Judd grabbed each of his fingertips.  â€œGoin on 95 years, now.”

Steve’s insides jumped.  This guy wasn’t right.  â€œJudd, do you know the quickest way to the freeway?”

“The what?  Oh, the coachroad?”

“The road to Phoenix.”

“Where?”

Steve began to get frustrated.  â€œI wanna go that way,” he said, pointing to the horizon.  â€œI’m going to be late for school.”  He desperately wanted to get away from the coot.

“There’s no school out there boy.  Only thing between here and Prescott is Pumpkinville and the Hayden’s Ferry crossing—just a bunch of farms and Mexicans.”

“I’ve never heard of those places.  You’ve never heard of Phoenix or Arizona State University in Tempe?”

“Arizona State?  You’re in Arizona Territory, son.”  Judd cinched up his pants by a large buckle on his belt.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

“Why, are you laughing?” Judd asked slowly.

“You’re one of those old west role players or re-enactors or something . . .”

“Old west?  Yur not makin’ much sense boy.”  Judd pulled the sides of his long dark coat behind his hips and hooked his thumbs in the corners of his pockets.  â€œT’aint no wonder you’re lost.  You’re confused.”

“ I’m confused?  I woke up in my parent’s house in San Diego this morning and left late for school at ASU.  I took an off-road shortcut to get to school by sunup and ended up in the Twilight Zone.  I know where I’ve been and where I want to go.  You asked me what year it is, tell me you’ve worked here for ninety-five years yet you look like you’re in your thirties, and say you’ve never seen a Jeep before.”

Judd looked over his shoulder at Steve’s Jeep.  â€œI like Isabel better,” he drawled, “but name ‘er what ya want.”

“You didn’t hear a word I just said did you?”  Steve said quickly.

“I heard it all, the only one I was interested in was ‘Jeep.’  Frankly none of it made much sense to me.”

“Thank you, you’re the one that’s confused,” Steve said wearily.

“Well now hold on there, I think I can explain,” Judd said, raising his open palms.   “I’m what ya call a specter.”

Steve paused and considered his options.  He could play along and get out of there before Judd did something to hurt him, or he could try to take the coot in a fight.  Never a fighter, Steve slowly moved towards his Jeep.

“A specter huh, like a ghost?” he asked.

“Yeah that’s the word they used when I showed up here,” Judd nodded.  â€œThey called me a ghost.  Everyone ran off and I haven’t had anyone else to talk to since.”

“Until I showed up,” Steve said, taking a few steps back.

“Yeap.  Nothing to do for ninety-five years except keep this place clean.  I’ve found I hate dirt.”

“Living in a desert, keeping dirt out of the store must be a full time job.”  Steve took a few more steps back.  â€œOr should I say, not living in the desert.”

“You wouldn’t believe it,” Judd said, looking at the store.  â€œThe place is ready to fall apart.”

Steve turned away from Judd and kicked his shoe into the mud.  He stepped closer to the Jeep and put his hand in his pocket to get his keys.

Judd didn’t seem to notice.  â€œHey I’ve been thinkin’ if that much time has passed, maybe the places we’re talkin about are the same places.”

“Could be, I’m sure a lot has changed in ninety-plus years.”

“Well that’s just it; I’ve been here that long.  It took me a spell to find
this place.  I spent a lot of time wandering.”

Steve nodded and took his keys from his pocket, careful not to make any noise.  â€œWhat’s the last year you remember?”  

“Spent a lot of time drunk, but the last year I remember is 1891.”

“That is a long time ago.”  Steve stood by the spare tire on the back of his Jeep.

“So you say a lot has changed?” Judd asked thoughtfully.  â€œI wonder what all is different.”

“Everything,” Steve smiled, stepping to the driver’s side of his Jeep.

“Really! Everything?”

Steve nodded.

“I see you and Isabel packin up to leave, mind if I join ya?  I wanna see that.”

Steve had hoped it was less obvious he was leaving.  â€œSee what?”

“Everything, pard’ner!”  Judd walked over and leaned into Steve’s Jeep.

“I tell you what,” Steve offered, “I’ll be passing this way tomorrow.  I’ll pick you up when the storm is over.  I don’t have a roof on this thing and it might start raining.”

The cowboy chuckled.  â€œClara didn’t have a roof on her, neither.  Man’s not a man if he’s ‘fraid of getting a little wet,” Judd said shaking his head.

“Clara . . . your horse?”

“See? You and I are just beginning to understand each other.  C’mon boy, I’m not made of wool, I won’t shrink.”

Water ran out of the seat when Steve sat in it.  He fumbled with his keys and started the engine.

“Woooo boy listen to that noise!” Judd yelled.  â€œSounds like you’ve got a bear in there or somethin!  This is gonna be fun!”

“Judd, I really have to be going . . .”

“Lemmie grab my hat!”  Judd ran for the shop door and disappeared.

Steve reversed his Jeep quickly and turned around.  His tires spun on the slick mud as he floored the gas pedal.  The Jeep fishtailed but roared between the cactus and desert bushes.

Steve looked into his rearview mirror.  The old shop glowed red from his taillights then disappeared into the darkness behind him.

“What the fuck!” Steve shouted over his engine.  â€œThat was crazy!”  He laughed out loud.  â€œThat was like some shit out of Deliverance!”  He accelerated to put as much distance between him and Judd as possible.

“Woooooooo hoooooooo!” Judd shouted from the passenger seat.  â€œI’d always wondered if I could do that!”

Steve jumped.  â€œWhat the hell?  How did you . . .” He struggled to keep driving.

“I’ve seen a few of these motorized buggies on the coachroad and wondered if I could ride in them!”

“I left you back there,” Steve said, “you were in the store . . .”

“Yeah I know, you were in a hurry to get back to Pumpkinville or someplace, it’s understandable.”

Steve shook his head.  â€œYou’re really creeping me out, man.”

“I don’t know what that means, but I know that tone.  I thought we understood each other, pard’ner.  You’re the only friend I’ve had in a hundred years.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I left you there, and here you are,” Steve explained.

“Is it my appearance?  I can change that.  You won’t even see me!”
Steve looked at the empty passenger seat and sighed in relief.

“Is that better?” Judd asked.

Steve slammed on the brakes and skidded to a muddy stop.  â€œWhere are you?  What the fuck is going on?”

Judd reappeared in the passenger seat.  â€œI thought you understood.  I’m a ghost.”

“You can’t be a ghost, there’s no such thing!”

“Well here I am, how else do you explain it?”

“I must be hallucinating or something.  You’re a figment of my imagination.”

“I don’t understand your ten dollar words, son, what do you mean, figmet?”

“ Figment.  I’m just making you up in my mind.”  Steve shook his head.  â€œYou don’t exist outside of my mind.”

Judd thought for a moment.  â€œWell if that’s the case I have to go with you to Pumpkinville.”

“No you need to get out,” Steve said tersely.

“Out of your mind?  How can I do that?  Don’t I go where your mind goes?”

Steve slumped on the steering wheel.  He couldn’t argue with Judd’s logic.  â€œI need some serious help.”

“I can help you pard’ner, we’re friends, trailbuddies.”  Judd leaned uncomfortably close to Steve.  â€œDo you need some help steerin’ Isabel?”

“No.”

“Do ‘lucinations steer motor coaches these days?”

Steve shifted back into first gear and began to roll.  â€œNo they don’t.”

Judd sat back in his seat.  â€œWhat do figmets do in the modern age?”

“The word is ‘fig-ment,’ and they don’t drive, that’s for sure.”

“Do ghosts?”

“You’re not driving, Judd.”

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gilesward avatar General Stranger

September 28, 2007

gilesward

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gilesward reviewed Version 3 - Read 100%% of the Item

This is the first time I’ve read this so I’ve come to this cold, so to speak. There’s a really strong premise for a story building here.  To be honest I did find opening with dialogue a little uncomfortable and I also feel you’ve jumped into ‘explanation’ a little quickly. By this I mean details of why he’s there – tow truck etc – I feel with this kind of setting you could afford to build a little slower and with a greater sense of mystery.

In response to your question about dialogue, I feel that you have a strong sense of how voices work together, maybe you are using more dialogue than is actually needed. You could try using it more sparingly and throwing in more scene setting descriptions to help build the flow.

Hope this is useful and makes sense… good luck with it I think it’s going to be good…

Jacquie avatar General Stranger

September 10, 2007

Jacquie

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Jacquie reviewed Version 3 - Read 100%% of the Item

I really love the premise of this story – a very entertaining idea. I just think it reads more like a screenplay than it does a novel. The dialogue is quite good but there is so much of it and I would stay away from the cliches like “Twighlight Zone”, “better to ask for forgivenss than permission” and things like that. I know you describe them both, but even after the descriptions I can’t get a celar view of them. Maybe instead of the extra dialogue, you could expand the scenery portion of the story. You have several well written descriptive phrases, “Lightning flashed and lit the desert around him in a brilliant pale blue light.” so it is clear that have the ability to write good scenes. But, yes I would like to read more of this. Good Luck

higginbot avatar General Stranger

September 10, 2007

higginbot

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higginbot reviewed Version 3 - Read 100%% of the Item

First things first, I have to ask you:  What kind of tone are you going for?  I mean, I like the characters, they play off each other fairly well, but you go into such detail at the beginning describing how rundown and dilapidated the shack is that I was fully expecting to get creeped out at the appearance of your apparition.  As soon as he shows up, though, it turns into a buddy cop type of story almost.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that approach, it just seems that the entire first portion of the story is setting you up for something that will keep you up at night holding a meat cleaver and watching the closet door, and instead it seems to be more along the lines of black comedy. If I had any suggestions, I would suggest maybe changing the tone of the opening to reflect that it’s going to be a little more lighthearted, or, if you are indeed going to turn this into an all-out scream fest, maybe make the ghost a little more worthy of fear.  Instead he seems to be a down home, folksy type, almost Mark Twain type character.  Also, if he’s only been there for 95 years, that would mark the date of his death as 1912, which is about when the Titanic sunk.  I would maybe add a decade or two to how long he reckons he’s been there.  Other than that, I really enjoyed it and look forward to seeing how it turns out.

campb26593 avatar General Friend

August 15, 2007

campb26593

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campb26593 reviewed Version 3 - Read 100%% of the Item

Thanks for letting me repost this for the points.

Better, yes, absolutely. But take a look at how many times adverbs are used, especially “quickly.” I still think you should replace some of the occurrences with simile: ”…he said with the spitting reflex of a startled rattlesnake.”

or

“Steve said wearily” becomes “Steve said with the energy of a deflating bicycle tire.”

EAnonymous avatar General Stranger

August 13, 2007

EAnonymous

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EAnonymous reviewed Version 3 - Read 100%% of the Item

OK, so this is the Beginning of the story.  It’s cruel, you know, to tease us so!  Yes, this is a great introduction, and I do want to read on.  You have done exceedingly well at presenting the scene.  The specific references to desert plants are effective.  Your dialogue is also very believable.  The only thing I question is “yeap” rather than the more familiar “yep”.  Perhaps that is an antiquated spelling they used in the old west?
The boulder jumping out of the water because of the thunder was actually LESS believable than the ghost to me.  Maybe you could touch that up a bit.
“A chill shivered up Steve’s spine” – I don’t really think a chill can shiver.  I see what you’re getting at, but I’m not sure this combination works.
I loved the whole figment/figmet stuff.  You really did well on the ghost’s character.  In fact, Steve seems a little two-dimensional in comparison.  Maybe some more of his inner dialogue would help.  Italics IS the standard way of presenting a character’s thoughts (though usually followed by “thought “so-&-so” or something.  Most readers will be familiar enough with this that it won’t confuse them.
Though this scene has a creepy feel to it, you did an excellent job of peppering it with humour.  The challenge will be to keep the rest of your novel from becoming TOO humourous. You (probably) don’t want to make this a farce, but the more familiar Judd becomes, the less creepy he gets.  I’m guessing you have more up your sleeve, though.
I do hope you post more of this.  Id definitely shows promise.  Keep up the good work, and best of luck to you!

LMPATE avatar General Stranger

August 13, 2007

LMPATE

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LMPATE reviewed Version 3 - Read 100%% of the Item

The characters are very good.  I can imagine them just from the dialogue.  You start out with good descriptions of the area around him and what he sees and feels in the beginning.  I’m thinking you need to add some to the rest of it too.  Once you start concentrating on the dialogue you seem to loose the scenery around the characters.  Good story line.  can’t wait to see how they flush out and the what turns the story takes later.

DeltaRail avatar General Stranger

August 12, 2007

DeltaRail

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DeltaRail reviewed Version 3 - Read 100%% of the Item

I didn’t read the first version of this, so I can’t answer on how it is better, but this version appears to be very good, and I don’t see much wrong with it. I have one question, and maybe I missed something but how did the boulder get thrown from the water?  That was a little weird.

The narrative about the thoughts works fine. I did want to keep reading on and the detail is awesome. You painted a very good picture of everything and the personalities are shown well. The dialogue is good too. Especially when he’s trying to escape Judd. I get the picture that Judd is one of those laid-back old western guys and Steve is nervous and frightened and maybe has a high-strung personality as well.

The events flow nicely. I think to make it a 10, and please – I’m no expert – but one thing I noticed is keep an eye out on your adverbs, i.e. slowly, quickly, wearily. I think be careful not to “over-word” things. All in all, I think this piece is very good. I would definately read on to see where the story goes from here.

Adair avatar General Stranger

August 12, 2007

Adair

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Adair reviewed Version 3 - Read 100%% of the Item

Wow, that was alot of dialogue.  Might be better if you worked on formatting so it doesn’t take up all that dead space.

I very much enjoyed the piece overall, but some of things Steve says considering his age is a little over the top and unbelievable.

You make a comment about Phoenix and Tempe that kind of contradicts the other.

Very good descriptions about the rain and such.

I like this very much, I will enjoy reading the rest.

jujubarnett avatar General Friend

August 08, 2007

jujubarnett

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jujubarnett reviewed Version 3 - Read 100%% of the Item

I have never read something that consisted of near all dialog. Certainly have enuf white space.

Kept me very entertained. A few things are:
Why would the first thing out of steve’s mouth be, “R U pregnant or something.” Not real. He’s an old geezer. “r u dying or something ” more realistic.

tells you he’s never heard of Phoenix but, a couple sentences later you ask again how to get there or Tempe. Didn’t like that.

I understand he doesn’t feel anything cuz of being a ghost but is he blind too. Steve spent the entire time wiping rain from his face, sloshing round in mud water, wringing shirt out and even told the old fella it was raining bad and should get inside, the car had to be filled and glistening with rain. Yet Judd is suprised to know it’s raining. Doesn’t work for me.

Is there such thing as too much dialog?
Otherwise it is a very good piece. Will be looking for the rest. Let me know when it’s up. juju

Sinner26 avatar General Stranger

August 08, 2007

Sinner26

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Sinner26 reviewed Version 3 - Read 100%% of the Item

Thoroughly entertaining and amusing! I really enjoy the ignorance/innocence of Judd. You built his character really well. Steve seems pretty basic but it works, a young man with mostly college on his mind trying not to do much other than get through school. You did everything pretty well, only thing I’d recommend would be more interactions or conflicts between the present and Judd’s 1981 nature. With such a vast difference in time you have a lot to work with on any subject, but that sort of thing could also be included in later parts. Excellent work, let me know when you add more.

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Tempejack

Age: 34
Loc: Tempe, AZ
Gen: M
Last Login: July 08
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