Chapter 27
Saturday morning arrived, September 24th, 2016.
Dalton couldn't sleep thinking about what had transpired during the last week.
Dalton rolled out of bed at seven-thirty. He took a shower, got dressed in his jeans, western shirt, and cowboy boots.
He headed off to his kitchen and ate breakfast that consisted of a bowl of Cocoa Krispies and two cups of coffee.
After breakfast, he sat on his couch and waited.
It was eight-thirty on the dot when there was a knock on his apartment door. His heart raced a little. She's here! He thought with a smile while he jumped up from the couch.
He headed to the front door.
He opened it and saw Chrissy outside in a western shirt, blue jeans, and cowboy boots.
She had something tucked inside the left shirt pocket.
"Ready?"
"I'm ready," said Chrissy.
Dalton left his apartment, and they headed off to his Civic.
While they drove to Home Depot, Dalton showed Chrissy the ten-year-old Internet news article about Bart Stone wanting to kill someone named the Kissing Bandit.
Fifteen minutes had passed, and Dalton pulled his Civic into the parking lot of the Home Depot store located off East Thomas road.
He drove around the lot. "There's Roger over there," he said when he spotted a 2005 Ford F-150 red pickup.
Dalton parked his car on the passenger side of Roger's pickup. Roger motioned for them to get inside his pickup when Dalton shut off his engine and got out of the car.
Dalton opened up the passenger door to Roger's pickup. Chrissy got inside and slid across the bench seat and sat in the middle. Dalton got in and closed the door.
"Roger, this is Chrissy, a close friend of mine from school. Chrissy, this is Roger, a close friend of mine from work."
"Glad to meet you," said Roger shaking Chrissy's hand.
"Also glad to meet you."
"So Dalton, you want to hear about some cave in the area? A time-traveling cave?" said Roger.
"We do," said Dalton.
"I knew it would be a matter of time before you come asking. I'm surprised it took you this long."
"Long story short, we found an Internet article about some guy named Phillip Yoemans who back in nineteen fifty made a claim he went back in time to eighteen-eighty three from a cave."
Chrissy nodded in agreement with Dalton.
Roger looked at the two. He hesitated but knew if he didn't tell everything he knew, Dalton would be a torn in his side, bugging him for months to come. "I remember when that happened," said Roger. "I was around seven and recalled daddy talking about it with granddaddy. You never forget a story like that."
"Is this Yoemans guy still around?" said Chrissy. "It would be nice to talk to him."
"No, he died about three years ago," said Roger.
"So, let's hear about this time-traveling cave," said Dalton and looked anxious.
"I heard this tale from my granddaddy Ernie who heard the tale from his daddy Felix. You know, the Blacksmith of Oak Creek. He heard it from that Indian tracker Merijildo." "The Mexicans called it Cueva Loca. I can't recall the Indian word, but the Mexican translated into Crazy Hole."
"Crazy Hole," said Chrissy. "Why Crazy Hole?"
"The Indians had the tale that when you entered that cave, you would come out loco with crazy talk of a strange land and people."
"Strange land and people?" said Dalton.
"I didn't fully understand what that meant until the story about that Phillip Yoemans came out in fifty. Granddaddy Ernie said that he knew that that strange land and people meant," said Roger, then he looked at Chrissy and Dalton. "Time travel," he said in a quieter voice.
"Time travel?" said Chrissy.
"Yes, time travel. This Crazy Hole cave was a portal to going back into time like to eighteen eighty-three," said Roger, and he said it with a hint of an eerie tone to had some effect.
"A time-traveling cave. Here in the Phoenix area. Wow!" said Dalton.
Chrissy nodded in agreement with Dalton.
"So, where is this cave?" said Dalton. "Or better yet, have you seen it, or did you go inside it?"
"I was always scared of that cave. Then ten years ago, I got up the balls," Roger said, then cringed, forgetting there was a lady in his pickup. "Sorry about that."
"Don't worry about me. I've heard those words before," said Chrissy.
"Again, ten years ago, I finally get up the ba…, courage to see if that Phillip Yoemans story was true. So I got a horse and rode out to Crazy Hole."
"And you went inside and found yourself in the old west?" said Dalton, all excited.
"No. I saw four people through my binoculars. I saw two guys and two gals at the entrance hole. The guys planted some cacti at the entrance of Crazy Hole. I guess they wanted to prevent anybody from going inside that cave."
"Why didn't you go back and remove those cacti? Then go inside Crazy Hole," said Dalton. "Experience time traveling."
"Naw. I chickened out. I figured those people must have done that as a warning. A warning not to go inside that cave."
"Did you recognize those people?" said Dalton.
"No, but the two guys were dressed as cowboys."
"Cowboys?"
"Yes, cowboys," said Roger, then he paused for a few seconds as he got curious. "What sparked this interest?"
"It's our professor at the university and some guy that plays piano for the Phoenix Symphony," said Dalton.
"How did they spark this interest?"
"Professor John Mathers bears a striking resemblance to some outlaw named the Kissing Bandit," said Dalton.
"I've heard of him from my granddaddy Ernie. And there was this story ten years ago about two guys on horses firing pistols in the air downtown looking for some guy named the Kissing Bandit. Just a news story then didn't hear about it again," said Roger.
"I saw an article about that on the Internet," said Dalton. "And a friend of his, Clint Bartley, plays piano for the Phoenix Symphony," said Dalton. "This Bartley guy bears a striking resemblance to an eighteen eighty-three Marshal with the same name." "They even have the same long scar on the left side of their faces."
"That Kissing Bandit also has the same name as our professor," said Chrissy.
"That is a strange coincidence."
Chrissy's eyes lit up. She opened up her left shirt pocket and removed two pieces of folded-up papers. She unfolded the papers. "Here's a picture of the Kissing Bandit and Marshal Bartley from eighteen eighty-three," she said and showed Roger the paper.
Roger looked at the paper, and it took a few seconds, but it dawned on him. "You know, those look a lot like the two guys I saw ten years ago that planted that cacti to block the entrance to Crazy Hole."
"Are you sure?" said Dalton.
Roger studied those papers again. "Oh, I'm sure. It's them. I spied on them from behind that bush with binoculars."
Dalton and Chrissy looked at each other. They both smiled with the same idea.
"Can you tell us how to get to Crazy Hole?" said Dalton.
Chrissy nodded in agreement with Dalton.
Roger cracked a smile. "I knew you would be asking, and if I didn't show you, you'd be a torn in my side bugging me for months," he said while he reached in his left shirt pocket and removed a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it and held it up.
Dalton and Chrissy glanced at it and saw it was a map.
"Now, you have to drive east on the Superstition Highway, or US sixty out of Apache Junction," said Roger explaining the map.
"East on us sixty. Got it," said Dalton.
"You'll drive by a red horse stable with a white fenced in an acre of land for horses to roam. That belongs to an Indian that I heard was kin to that Merijildo tracker."
"Funny how he still has relatives in the area," said Chrissy.
"I know. Then follow the signs for the Peralta Trailhead that will first take you through a housing development. That road eventually turns into a well-graded dirt road that will end at a dirt parking area. Park your car."
"Got it," said Dalton.
"Head down Bluff Springs Trail."
"Bluff Springs Trail. Got it," said Dalton.
"Next hike down Dutchman's Trail. Then you'll soon see Miners Needle," said Roger.
"Dutchman's Trail, then I'll see Miners Needle," said Dalton.
"Crazy Hole will be at the rocky wall of Miners Needle. You should see those cacti located to the left of this massive rock."
"Cacti to the left of that massive rock. I got it," said Dalton.
"Now, if you're crazy enough to go inside Crazy Hole, the story goes that "right is the way,"" said Roger.
"Right is the way? What does that mean?" said Dalton.
"Once you get inside the cave, keep on going to the right. Meaning enter a tunnel to the right when you get to a dead end. That will, if it's actually true, take you back in time."
Dalton and Chrissy glanced at each other, and both had the same adventurous smile.
"Legend has it that you have to say the month, day, and year you want to travel back to before you enter that other tunnel," said Roger, and he paused.
"Say the month, day, and year. Got it," said Dalton.
"But beware, legend also states that this time portal to the time you requested stays opened for twelve hours. So make sure nobody is following you. Or they'll be following you to your time travel adventure."
"Got it," said Dalton.
Roger handed Dalton the piece of paper. "This is for you. It's a copy of what my granddaddy made after talking with Peter Yoemans. He was the father of Phillip Yoemans, and he was persistent with hunting the location of the buried loot of that Bart Stone outlaw. He went missing doing that, and it's not known what happened," said Roger. "But, I think Phillip Yoemans knew but didn't want to tell anybody."
"Time travel?" said Dalton.
Roger nodded in agreement.
"This is getting interesting," said Chrissy. "Very interesting."
"You know it," said Dalton, then he looked over at Roger. "Thanks, buddy. You've been a big help."
"I know you, Dalton. And I know you can't resist the temptation. So you'll need to cut away those cacti by the Crazy Hole entrance. So go to Home Depot, buy some good leather gloves, rope, and the longest hand or pruning saw they sell. You don't, and I mean you really don't want to get stuck by one of those needles. They hurt like a son-a-bitch."
"Based on experience?" said Chrissy.
"Yes, when I was a teenager hiking around those Superstition Mountains." "Got stuck in the butt muscle."
"We can't thank you enough, Roger," said Dalton.
"Yes, we appreciate what you've told us," said Chrissy.
"Promise me that you'll tell me what happened. Maybe take some pictures," said Roger.
"We will," said Dalton, and he opened up the door then looked back at Roger. "Are you going inside Home Depot?"
"Already did. Have some lumber in the bed of the pickup."
Dalton stepped out of the truck, glanced in the bed, and saw about ten pieces of two-by-fours.
Chrissy gave Roger a smile, then she slid across the bench seat and got out of the pickup.
"It should take you about an hour and a half to hike to Crazy Hole from that dirt area. And be careful," said Roger.
"We will," said Dalton, and he closed the door.
Roger started up his pickup while Dalton and Chrissy walked to the rear of his Civic.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" said Dalton while Roger drove away and he tooted his pickup's horn.
"If you're thinking of going out to Crazy Hole, then yes. I'm thinking of the same thing."
"Let's do this," said Dalton.
Chrissy smiled in agreement.
They walked off and headed to the entrance to Home Depot.
They shopped in Home Depot and bought two pairs of leather gloves with long cowhide cuff, fifty-feet of twisted Sisal rope, and an eighteen-inch D-handed pruning saw.
After Dalton paid for the items with his credit card, they left Home Depot and headed back to his apartment.
"This is so exciting," said Chrissy while Dalton pulled out of the Home Depot parking lot and headed down the street.
"I know. So, how long do you think it's going to take to cut down the cacti?"
"Maybe an hour?" said Chrissy taking an educated guess.
"That's what I figured."
"Let's swing over to my place so I can get a hat," said Dalton.
Chrissy smiled as that sounded like a good idea.
Dalton and Chrissy had an idle chat about what they thought the old west would be like while he drove back to his apartment.
Once they got to his apartment, Dalton got his cowboy hat, and just before they were ready to leave, an idea popped in his head. "What if it takes us until dark to cut down those cacti? I don't want to be hiking in the dark. A little too dangerous."
"We could camp out for the night, or we could come back before the sun starts to settle and go back tomorrow morning," said Chrissy.
"Let's get some sleeping bags, sleep under the stars like what they did in the old west," said Dalton.
Chrissy thought about what he said. "You know, that's something I've always wanted to do. So, let's do it. Let's camp out under the stars and by a campfire."
"It's a date," said Dalton, then he cringed with what he said, wondering if she would take it the wrong way.
"Sounds good to me," said Chrissy wondering if the meant it like the way she heard it. A date would be nice. She thought while smiling inside.
There were a few seconds of silence between Dalton and Chrissy.
"I'll go get my hat, backpack, sleeping bag and a lighter for the campfire, some camping gear, and some food," he said and walked away, heading off to his bedroom.
A few minutes had passed, and Dalton entered his living room with his cowboy hat, rolled up sleeping bag, backpack, pair of binoculars, and a lighter.
They left his apartment and got in his Civic.
He drove out of his apartment complex parking lot and headed off to Chrissy's apartment.
Once he got to her apartment, they went inside, where she got her cowboy hat, rolled up sleeping bag, another lighter, flashlight, and some food.
They left her apartment and drove away in his Civic.
While they drove toward the Superstition Mountains, they stopped off at a convenience store for needed supplies. They got bottled water, granola bars, flavored jerky, and other non-perishable items for food.
They were ready and headed off down the road.
It wasn't long before Dalton drove his Civic east on the Superstition Highway (US 60) out of Apache Junction.
He drove passed a lovely red ranch house with red horse stable and a white fenced around an acre of yard for the horses to roam. This is the house Roger mentioned, so they knew they were heading in the right direction.
They drove down the road following the signs for the Peralta Trailhead.
They now drove through a housing development.
The road eventually turned into a well-graded dirt road and drove to a dirt parking area at the dead end. He parked his Civic.
Dalton and Chrissy got out of the car.
They got ready with their cowboy hats on their heads, backpacks with supplies on their backs with rolled-up sleeping bags. The pruning shears hung off his backpack while the rope hung off her backpack.
Dalton glanced at Chrissy. Sexy! He thought, as a girl wearing a cowboy always was a sensual sight for him. "Ready?"
"I'm ready," she said.
They walked off and soon hiked down Bluff Springs Trail.
They hiked this trail until it came upon Dutchman's Trail.
He headed down Dutchman's Trail.
They eventually walked through some small streams.
They hiked by numerous Saguaro cacti.
They hiked by poppy flowers.
They hiked by spring desert flowers.
An hour had passed while hiking down Dutchman's Trail, and they saw Miners Needle in the distance.
Dalton removed the paper Roger him from his shirt pocket. They glanced at the paper then at Miners Needle.
"Crazy Hole should be there," he said.
"I agree," she said while Dalton put the paperback in his pocket.
They hiked off toward Miners Needle.
A little while later, while they hiked farther down Dutchman's Trail in the direction of Miners Needle, they walked upon a section of some old rusted train tracks.
They stopped.
"This must be the old Southern Pacific rail line from those days," said Dalton kicking the old rusty rail with the toe of his right cowboy boot.
Chrissy looked it over and saw that this old section of the rail line paralleled Dutchman's Trail. "I agree."
Dalton looked at Miner's Needle. "We're getting closer."
Chrissy nodded in agreement, and they walked off.
They kept on hiking and got closer to Miners Needle.
Twenty minutes had passed, and they finally arrived at the base of Miners Needle.
They walked around and soon saw that huge rock was to the left were some tall Cereus Peruvian column cacti that blocked the entrance to a cave.
"Crazy Hole. That has to be Crazy Hole," said Dalton.
Chrissy looked the area over. "I believe it is."
Dalton and Chrissy stood there, staring at those cacti and a huge rock.
After a few minutes, they looked at each other. Both were a little nervous.
"Should we press on?" said Dalton.
Chrissy looked at the cacti. "Probably should or we just wasted our time."
Dalton and Chrissy removed their backpacks off their backs.
Dalton was ready. He wore those leather gloves with long cuffs. He went over to the right side of the cacti. He carefully placed the rope around the top part of the cactus. He tied a knot.
Chrissy took the other end of the rope and walked about ten feet away.
Dalton carefully used the pruning saw and cut away a section of the cactus. Once it was cut, Dalton stepped away, and Chrissy pulled on the rope, the section of cactus fell to the ground, and she dragged it in the dirt and out of the way.
Dalton and Chrissy worked this process for two hours until the cacti were cut away from the opening of Crazy Hole.
The pieces of cut cacti were also safely located away on the right side of that huge rock.
Dalton glanced at the sky. "The sun is starting to settle below the horizon."
Chrissy glanced at the sky and nodded that she agreed. "We should make camp?"
"I think you're right. Let's scrounge up some firewood."
He and Chrissy walked around the area in search of firewood.
Forty minutes had passed.
The bottom of the sun started to touch the horizon.
Dalton and Chrissy found old tree branches and other pieces of wood and had a small campfire burning a few feet from the cave opening.
They rolled out their sleeping bags in the dirt near the fire. The pruning saw and coiled up the rope was in the dirt near them.
They sat on their sleeping bags and removed the two bags of jerky. The opened it and started eating.
For the next two hours, Dalton and Chrissy sat on their sleeping bags and chatted. They told stories of their youth and high school days. They both learned that neither of them dated in high school and were both shy and only had a few friends.
It was now dark.
Dalton and Chrissy lie on their sleeping bags, gazing up at the sky. They were side by side.
"Look at all those stars. You don't see this when in Phoenix," said Dalton.
"The lights of the city drown them out," said Chrissy.
"What a shame. It's so beautiful."
"I know. Maybe that's a good thing about the old west. No massive city with lights, so you'll see this every night,' she said.
Dalton nodded in agreement, then he glanced over at Chrissy. She glanced over at him. They both thought of the same thing. This was the first time they were ever were side by side, a member of the opposite sex. Or rather the first time they slept next to a member of the opposite sex.
They stay quiet while they gazed up at the thousands of twinkling stars. They just wanted to soak in the beauty of the nighttime sky.
Dalton had this urge to kiss Chrissy. But he refrained afraid of being slapped.
Thirty minutes had passed, and they both fell asleep under the stars.