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Richard Lee King

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Wanderin Man - 9 - Beyond Mardi Gras - Part IV
by Richard Lee King   
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
Last edited: Thursday, May 03, 2012
Posted: Thursday, May 03, 2012

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Recent articles by
Richard Lee King

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• Wanderin Man - 9 - Beyond Mardi Gras - Part V
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Today’s edition of the continuing saga,
Wanderin Man – Beyond Mardigras – Part IV


Continued from Part III - When I came back into the room she stirred awake an sat up in the bed an at first she didn’t recognize me, all freshly shaved an all. She looked a bit like a caged animal as she cowered there on tha bed. After I spoke to her, she figured out who I was an settled back down. She said I’m so sorry to be a puttin ya through all this, but I sure do thank ya fer a doin what yer a doin fer me. I’m feelin much better now, it’s amazin what a shower, a little food and a few minutes of shut eye will do fer ya when you’ve been a goin without fer so long. My name is Rebecca, but jist about every body calls me Becky. I sure do wanna thank ya fer all ya’ve done fer me. 
I said, “Don’t you worry yer pretty little head (an she sure did have a pretty little head) about it. We’ll git this all figured out in due time. In the meantime, I ain’t had much sleep in the last few days an we need to figure out some sleepin arrangements. I ain’t one to take advantage of no lady, but there’s ain’t but one bed. I’m use to sleepin on the ground an I’ll sleep on tha floor if’n ya prefer, but I need to catch me some shuteye. So, what’ll it be?” 
Well, she said I’m not some innocent little girl and though I ain’t been a knowin ya fer very long, I already trust you a lot more that that feller I been a travelin with fer the last month er so. I don’t think there’s any reason fer ya to be a sleepin on the floor. We’re both adults an sleep seems to be more important to both of us right now then most anything else. We’ll make do with jist the one bed. 
Well, thet suited me jist fine, so I went back down to the laundry room, latched on to our clothes an headed back to the room to catch me some shuteye.
When we woke up in the morning the world looked a whole bunch better to the both of us. She had already gone down to the kitchen an fetched us back some coffee an sweet rolls, complements of the house of course, an we had an enjoyable breakfast snack an began to catch up with each other.

Well, I tole her enough about myself so’s that she knowed thet I wasn’t some pervert an I learned enough about her to know that she was just a youngster out to learn about life an take as much pleasure out of livin it as she was able to. She’d made a mistake by hitchin up with the asshole, but by the time she figured that out, she was already a long way down that road. 
Home, as it turned out, was back in Georgia, though it had been several years since she had been back there. She’d been makin her way the best she could by waitin tables an tendin bar, which wasn’t so different than me. She wasn’t “hardcore,” but she had done some hard livin an had learned to roll with the punches. This little setback wasn’t going to define her life, she’d be back on her feet in short order, she jist needed a little boost. 
Well, I tole her I was a headin fer Vegas, hopin to git into tha Series an she was welcome ta come along fer the ride, iffin she was a mind to. Told her she should give it some thought an iffin that’s not to yer likin, we’ll figure something else out fer ya. I said, “I know some people in Vegas that I kin introduce ya to and I kin prob’ly git ya set up with a half ways decent job.” 
To be continued….
Copyright © 2011 Richard Lee King.  All Rights Reserved.


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Reviewed by Annabel Sheila 5/8/2012
Great storytelling, Richard....

Reviewed by Donna Chandler 5/4/2012
As all good authors do, you left me hanging at the end of this chapter, ready to turn the page and see what happens next.

Reviewed by Patrick Granfors 5/3/2012
Now who wouldn't want to go to Vegas? Patrick
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton 5/3/2012
Whew! . .. and it never stops . . . When is he going to stop wandering . . . Even Moses stopped after forty years. Har-Har
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