Cherry Creek
From a land that is sunny and wide.
Why lay her to rest on the cold hillside -
And leave her forever with the greasewoods
Which wave above her unmarked grave.
Lament,
Hugo Ralph Frank, 1897-1970
Fall, 1881 - Cherry Creek, Nevada
William O'Dell steadied himself with one hand on the door jamb of his hotel room, while fumbling for his keys.
It was two in the morning, and an oil lamp at the end of the corridor sputtered long, dancing shadows in the narrow, musty passage. After several tries at the keyhole, he rejoiced with a yelp as the door sighed inward. Releasing himself from the jamb, he stumbled, falling hard onto bare wooden planks, and watched in fascination as his lop-sided Stetson rolled away, gyrating to a stop a few feet ahead. After a few minutes of deliberation, he jerked his head up, propped himself on one elbow, and reached for the barely visible bedpost. At seventeen, he was both naïve to drinking and eager to enjoy his payday earnings. A part of his muddled brain acknowledged that he had royally overdone it on both counts – something even older mine workers were apt to do, given their long hours and irregular schedule of pay. He dragged himself closer to the bed. With great effort of mind and will, he rearranged his arms and knees to a four-point stance, but immediately slumped into an unconscious heap on the floor.
The door to his room swung shut and the bolt within slipped into the latch plate with a sharp metallic click. A kerosene lantern from the stables across the street threw an elongated outline of the room's square window frame unto the ceiling, reflecting shades of sallow
grey onto the bed below. The covers, having been neatly aligned by the maid earlier in the day, rolled to the foot of the bed. Oblivious to these doings in his splayed, prostrate form, O'Dell was lifted into the air and placed atop the bed, care being taken to fluff the single pillow beneath his head. His Stetson straightened itself out and joined him on the bed alongside. His boots were pulled off and positioned together on the floor. His eyes flickered open for a moment. Finding himself comfortably ensconced in his bed, he grinned, and sank into a deep sleep.
Why lay her to rest on the cold hillside -
And leave her forever with the greasewoods
Which wave above her unmarked grave.
Lament,
Hugo Ralph Frank, 1897-1970
Fall, 1881 - Cherry Creek, Nevada
William O'Dell steadied himself with one hand on the door jamb of his hotel room, while fumbling for his keys.
It was two in the morning, and an oil lamp at the end of the corridor sputtered long, dancing shadows in the narrow, musty passage. After several tries at the keyhole, he rejoiced with a yelp as the door sighed inward. Releasing himself from the jamb, he stumbled, falling hard onto bare wooden planks, and watched in fascination as his lop-sided Stetson rolled away, gyrating to a stop a few feet ahead. After a few minutes of deliberation, he jerked his head up, propped himself on one elbow, and reached for the barely visible bedpost. At seventeen, he was both naïve to drinking and eager to enjoy his payday earnings. A part of his muddled brain acknowledged that he had royally overdone it on both counts – something even older mine workers were apt to do, given their long hours and irregular schedule of pay. He dragged himself closer to the bed. With great effort of mind and will, he rearranged his arms and knees to a four-point stance, but immediately slumped into an unconscious heap on the floor.
The door to his room swung shut and the bolt within slipped into the latch plate with a sharp metallic click. A kerosene lantern from the stables across the street threw an elongated outline of the room's square window frame unto the ceiling, reflecting shades of sallow
grey onto the bed below. The covers, having been neatly aligned by the maid earlier in the day, rolled to the foot of the bed. Oblivious to these doings in his splayed, prostrate form, O'Dell was lifted into the air and placed atop the bed, care being taken to fluff the single pillow beneath his head. His Stetson straightened itself out and joined him on the bed alongside. His boots were pulled off and positioned together on the floor. His eyes flickered open for a moment. Finding himself comfortably ensconced in his bed, he grinned, and sank into a deep sleep.