A Ride Into Reality
A Ride Into RealityDisclaimer: Some of the characters in this fiction have been borrowed from the TV show The Young Riders and are the copyright of Ed Spielman and Ogiens/Kane Production. The other characters are created by the author. Some characters may be based upon today living persons but the author have no connection with these persons, nor does the author claim to have any specific knowledge of these persons. This story is written for the enjoyment of TYR fans and are posted without any economical gain for neither the author nor the siteowner.
© Charla
Sam rushed from the back of the trailer holding a cordless phone. When Sarah grabbed it and started speaking into it, the riders looked at each other. Meanwhile, Sam rushed to get a cool wet cloth for Ms. Suhor as Kid continued to hold her.
"You mean Mr. Brolin didn't miss his show last night?" Sarah paused, as if listening. "Well, couldn't he have flown down to Tucson on a red-eye?" She took a deep breath and watched as Kid thanked Sam politely and placed the wet cloth on Lou's head. Sarah tried to focus on the person on the other end of the phone, but it was difficult with all those eyes watching her. "Yes, you may have spoke with him today, but he might not have been in New York." Her face suddenly fell. "Oh, you mean you saw him today in New York," she clarified. "No, no, my mistake. No, you don't have to fly down here. I'm sorry for bothering you. Yes, if there's a problem, I'll let you know. Yes, imitation is the greatest form of flattery. Thanks and you have a good day too."
Sarah pushed a button on the phone and studied each of the impersonators before her. She had to give them credit, their costumes were certainly authentic and they acted their parts better than the original actors. Of course, maybe some of these were the original actors, but if Josh wasn't really Josh, she doubted the others were the actors she knew a decade ago either. For a moment her mind began to play with the idea that they weren't acting, but she vehemently brushed that thought aside.
Lou was beginning to wake up and Kid was trying to placate her; she was apparently irritated at having shown weakness. The other riders moved to reassure her as well, staying in character perfectly.
Sarah got an idea. "Sam, can you get a hold of some old episodes for me?"
"You mean…" Sam began, but didn't finish as Sarah nodded her head. He grinned. "I'll get right on it."
"Oh and Sam," Sarah called over her shoulder, "see if you can track down Thomas Stryker and talk him into visiting the old lot."
"Now Sarah, that's not likely."
"It's worth a try," Sarah shot back, "maybe a dose of reality is what these folks need."
Sarah dug around the trailer, found some magazines and books and threw them on the table. "You read these and do NOT leave this trailer. Make sure you notice the dates on them! I'll be back soon. Sam, watch them."
Sam's muffled agreement came from somewhere in the back.
Around noon, Sarah entered the trailer with several square boxes. She was relieved to see the group was still pouring over the less than quality reading material she had left them. She didn't need them outside the trailer, with all the tourists and stunt people milling around the lot. Sarah didn't want to think of the stir they would cause; it would be a madhouse. A madhouse she could not explain or control. She reminded herself for the dozenth time to take some Tylenol.
Sam, having seen the pizza boxes in her arms, brought out more drinks. The aroma hit the riders as she lifted the lids. "Eat up and then we will talk."
Sam grabbed a slice as began to report his news to Sarah. "Some tapes should arrive here this afternoon. You'll pay out the rear for same day shipping."
Sarah shrugged her shoulders, unconcerned. "I got a hold of Stryker's agent; he is supposed to call you back. You are damn lucky they remember your name."
"They better remember my name. I was around here long before anyone knew who they were." And Thomas will remember my name, even if his agent doesn't, she thought.
The group might have been suspicious at first, but it didn't take them long to discover the delights of pizza. Sarah noticed a couple of them were eating their slice backwards, but she refrained from comment. They were on the second box before Sarah had gotten the first slice.
"Tell you what, I'll talk while you eat. I'll tell you some things you already know," she added sarcastically. Five curious pairs of eyes watched her over the top of their pizza.
"Back in 1989, ABC produced a show for television called The Young Riders." Sarah watched for reaction, but got no response. She continued, "the show was about the Pony Express and a group of teenagers who worked for them."
Buck cleared his throat. "First off ABC? Are you talking about the alphabet?"
Cody chimed in, "And what is te-le-vision?"
Jimmy looked relieved for a moment. "At least we all know about the Pony Express."
Kid and Lou nodded. "We saw stuff written about te-le-vision, but we don't know what it was talking about." Lou added, "We do know the alphabet!"
Sarah shook her head and massaged her temples. "ABC stands for the American Broadcasting Company…it's a channel on the TV - you know television!" Blank eyes looked back at her.
Disgusted, Sarah looked around. When she didn't find the remote, she stood and pushed the on button on the TV. The riders all jumped back at the immediate sound. "That's a TV," she all but shouted.
The five stared, transfixed by the images moving so quickly across the screen. Sarah decided to leave them like that. She figured that television, in a few short hours, could educate them more than she could in a week, so she left them in Sam's care.
As she walked to her Jeep, she considered therapy, even shock treatment. If it weren't strange enough that they were from the past, they were all basically fictional characters. Deep down, whether she was ready to admit it or not, sane, practical Sarah Stallings was beginning to believe she had William Cody, Jimmy Hickok, Louise McCloud, Kid and Buck Cross sitting in her security office trailer. Of course, admitting it to that nagging belief would force her to figure out what to do with them.
