Home A Motel Room with an Icebox
by Ron Van Sweringen
"We can't live here without an ice box," my mother leveled her words at my father in no uncertain terms. My twelve year old brother, Howard, and I stood next to the motel room door, hot and antsy from riding in the car for three days. My father turned to the motel manager, "You heard her, where can we get an ice box?"
"And a two burner hot plate," my mother added, gritting her teeth. The motel manager, a heavy set bald headed man wearing wire rim glasses stared at my mother as though she was from another planet.
It was August, 1943 and 95 degrees in Wells, Nevada. It had taken three long days of driving to deliver us from My aunt and uncle's home near Boston, Mass., to the Starlight Motel in Wells, Nevada. Housing was almost impossible to find in those war years and we were lucky to get two motel rooms together, on a weekly basis. My father, a Captain in the U.S. Air Force planned to drive the 60 miles each way to his new post at an air base.
Being 6 years old, all I wanted to do was take my shoes off and explore the desert with my older brother. "Go," my mother said, standing in the motel doorway looking over the vast flat land, "and don't get lost." Howard looked up at my mother, "How could we get lost mom? there's nothing here but us?"
"It was a joke honey," my mother replied, lighting a Lucky Strike and kicking off her Baby-doll platform high heels. It was probably another five years before I realized everybody else's mother wasn't like mine. I was luckier.
The desert was awe inspiring. Coming from Massachusetts, I could not believe the endless world stretching out before us. What looked like pink and red mountains, loomed faintly visible on the horizon. "Those are made out of sandstone," Howard informed me with a superior tone. My brother was six years older than me and completely independent at everything except unbuttoning the flap on the back of his long johns when he had to poop. I was superior at that.
The first day in our new home, after a breakfast of fried eggs and a chocolate donut, Howard and I were off. It was early and the sand was just getting warm between my toes. We wandered for what seemed like miles among the sagebrush and cactus plants that grew everywhere. We found the bleached skull of a cow and several rattlesnake skins that had been shed. We held them over our heads and ran, trailing them in the hot air behind us.
Howard had an army canteen filled with water and we stopped for a drink beside a large bolder protruding from the sand. It was probably seven or eight feet tall and about the same in width. The center of the stone looked like it had been hollowed out and there was room enough inside for both of us to rest in the shade.
As we sat there I ran my hands through the sand, letting it sift between my fingers. I felt a lump, in the sand and when I looked down there was a red stone in the palm of my hand. "Wow!" I shouted, "look at this!"
Howard was on it instantly. "It's a flint arrowhead," he exclaimed, "there might be more of them around here." We immediately began digging and sifting the sand. An hour later we each had a dozen arrow heads in our pockets and were headed home for lunch. My mother wasn't overly impressed with our find, but after some persuading, she surrendered my father's half empty cigar box to store the arrow heads in.
After dinner that night my mother unexpectedly lowered the boom on Howard and I while my father listened to the radio, drank a highball and smoked a cigar.
"Tomorrow you're going to school." Howard and I looked at each other, there was no use saying anything, suddenly doomsday had arrived.
The next morning my brother and I received one of the biggest surprises of our short lives. The school sat in a little gully in the desert, a one room clap-board building, weathered and decrepit. An outhouse kept it company. I had never seen an outhouse and had to ask what it was for. The half moon cut out on the door intrigued me and I couldn't wait to go inside.
My mother took us hand in hand into the small one room school house. We could have landed on mars from the looks we received. Both Howard and I wore long pants, polished shoes, and long sleeve shirts and neckties. Our hair was full of Vitalis and parted down the middle, the way my father parted his.
Most of the other kids, about a dozen or so were barefoot, wore shorts or ragged jeans and short sleeve shirts, or no shirts. "That takes care of the laundry," I heard my mother say to herself.
A few minutes after my mother left us in this new world, the lady teacher separated Howard and I, putting us in different parts of the room, according to our age and school grade. I was amazed as she began teaching the letters of the alphabet to my section. I had learned them and how to spell cat and dog, a year ago in kidney garden; I could also spell my full name which had 26 letters in it. After I displayed those skills to the teacher and she had moved on to teach the next grade, I promptly fell asleep.
Howard had a tougher time. An older boy in his teens didn't like our looks. At recess he picked a fight with Howard while I was exploring the outhouse. My brother quickly put him out of commission with one punch in the stomach and a knee to the groin, for which Howard spent the afternoon sitting in a corner wearing a dunce hat and looking at the wall. I in the mean time, enjoyed smiles from the teacher while cleaning the blackboard.
It was Saturday morning, after our first week at school. Howard and I were up early for a day of exploring. Finding arrow heads was tops on the list. We had also seen a weathered sign that said, "Silver Mine," on our wanderings and we decided to check it out first. The sign was nailed to an old post holding up a rusted barbed wire fence. The sign also read "danger, no trespassing."
"Don't do anything stupid," Howard warned me after we read the sign and proceeded up to the entrance of the mine. It just looked like a black hole in the side of a cliff with a wooden ladder going down inside of it. "I'll bet there's chunks of silver in there, enough to make us rich," Howard said, excitement in his voice.
"Let's go in and get it," I quickly replied.
"No," he shot back in that arrogant tone, "You're too little, I'll come back later when I'm alone." The thought of him taking all of the silver for himself was too much for me. A few minutes later when he went behind a cactus to pee, I made my move, heading straight for the ladder. It made a creaking sound when I started climbing down and at about the tenth rung the wood crumbled in my hands. I sailed back wards into the darkness just as Howard called my name.
I landed on my butt in a small passageway and could see the blue sky above at the hole where I'd climbed in. I saw Howard's head looking Down, it was about the size of a peanut. "Ronnie!" I head him shouting my name several times. I had the wind knocked out of me and tried to answer, but not much came out.
"I'm going to get help," I heard him shout and then there was silence. I decided Now was my chance to find the silver. It was pretty dim in the tunnel as I crawled around picking up rocks in my search. After a couple of hours of finding nothing and getting thirsty, I decided it might be a good idea to climb back out and wait for Howard to come back.
The ladder creaked again as I started up, testing each rung as I climbed. I reached carefully over the one that had broken and my foot slipped when I stepped on it, but a few minutes later I pulled myself out of the shaft. It was getting late in the afternoon when I heard the first siren. At first it was just a slight whistle, far away, then it kept getting louder. I could see dust blowing up in the sky and pretty soon a police car and a fire truck came into view.
Two of the firemen ran toward me, I couldn't believe they were real firemen. Then a police officer came running up. Howard and my mother were close behind. The firemen both smiled, "He's fine, a little dusty, but fine." My mother bent down and took my face in her hands. I could see tears in her eyes. Then she whispered in my ear, "I'm going to beat the hell out of you when I get you home," and she did.
