The Rick Walker



Bonnie M. Wells

Note: This story is color coded to show fulfillment

at time of the 2000 presidential elections:

Dreamer: Bonnie M. Wells

Dream Date: 10-6-94

The Records Room

I was standing in one of the rooms, of what I believe was the Washington County Court House. The room was filled with books, files and records.

In my hand I held a round, metal object with a dent in the top of it. "That dent was caused by a small caliber bullet," I thought just as a man walked up beside me...

"Where did you get that thing?" the stranger asked.

I looked up and met the eyes of a tall ...6' or so .... stranger. His hair was thick and shaggy looking and hung well onto his collar. His eyes were brown in a narrow, rugged, outdoor type face.

"Jim Shad gave this to me," I replied. "He showed me the holes in his yard and said someone had been shooting holes in his yard and his car. So, what kind of a nut goes around shooting cars and the ground?" I asked.

"That's not all he's done," the stranger replied.

"No, I don't think so either, but no one will listen to me, so here.... you take the damned thing, and maybe, since you are a man, they will listen to you." I said as I handed him the piece of metal.

I turned to walk away and he spoke softly.....

I'm Rick Walker

"What's your name? I might listen if you were to talk to me."

"I'm sorry," I stammered, as I turned back to face him. "I'm Bonnie."

"Hi Bonnie," he said, "I'm Rick Walker."

"Nice to meet you Rick Walker." I replied.... "Are you a cop?"

The grin that spread across his handsome face made him appear younger than the late 30's that I had guessed his age to be, and about as ornery as any critter I'd ever tangled with.

His reply, when it came, was almost a whisper....

"No, I'm not a cop. I thought about it one time, but then I got into a little trouble and that took care of any badge I might have dreamed of."

"Oh," I replied, "then they won't listen to you any more than they will listen to me."

They Will Listen

"They will listen," he replied.

I smiled and once again turned to leave the room, only to decide to stay put when I saw Belpre Police Officer Dave Garvey come through the door with a guy in handcuffs.

Dave spoke to Rick and I saw a respect and recognition in Dave's eyes that I could only wonder about.

His prisoner was a stocky built man with gray hair who appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties.

Dave glanced my direction, but didn't speak or indicate that he knew me.

Typical Belpre arrogance, I thought, as once again I turned to face Rick Walker.

"Rick, can I tell you something?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"That guy with Garvey is far more dangerous than he realizes."

"I'm aware of that," Rick replied.

"Sometimes I see things .... know things. Sometimes I can't explain how or why," I stammered.

"I'm aware of that too," he grinned.

Ingredients, But No Recipe

Christina and Judy were already in the next room as I entered.

Judy began trying to tell me about a dead body .... a man, I think, that had been found. She said something about the man knew Jim, or worked with or for Jim or something .... I couldn't understand what she was saying because Christina kept interrupting with comments about wanting to make apple crisp, but there was only ingredients but no recipe listed on the box.

I finally handed her a pair of scissors and said ...."Here, cut the damned ingredient list out and we'll make our own recipe."

Judy said she had to go meet Jim and compare the holes in the ground at Jim's house to the ones at her mom's house by the side walk, and this dead guy!

What crazy people, I thought as I turned to go into yet another room.

Coming Through

Just as I stepped through the doorway and into the next room a man's voice boomed ....

"Coming through," ...

I glanced around the door facing and saw Garvey and his prisoner coming toward the room where I stood.

The cuffed man locked eyes with me as they approached. Even after they walked past me, the man glanced over his left shoulder as if to make sure I remained where I'd been.

The cold blue of his eyes sent a chill through me and I began to inch my way back toward the room I'd just left.

My eyes scanned the room and took in Dave's attire and position.

He wore dark tan pants, light shirt with tan stripes, and a shoulder harness with pistol on the left side of his body.

He moved to the left of his prisoner, reached around the man, and opened the door into yet another room.

The man in handcuffs took a step or two toward the door that was swinging open. Dave brought his right hand up toward the man's shoulders as if to help direct him through the doorway, while his left hand continued to push the door open wider.

My eyes were riveted to the back of the cuffed man and every nerve in my body screamed .... "Get out fast!"

The position of Dave's body exposed his weapon to the cuffed man. I was about to warn him when the prisoner darted a glance over his shoulder at me. Instantly he turned to his left, and took a step backward ....

"Dave," I screamed, as I turned toward the room where Christina and Judy had been only a few minutes earlier.

Dave took a step backward and reached for his gun, but it wasn't in the holster. Instead it was clutched tightly in the hands of the cuffed man.

"Rick," I screamed as I dove into the next room and hit the floor ....hard ... face down!

Rich was only a few feet away from me, and even as I hit the floor, I saw him crouch into a firing position, with elbows almost touching his knees, but not quite.

I never laid eyes on a .357 Magnum in my life, and yet I knew this was the weapon Rick held with both hands as he took deadly aim, not two feet above my head!

Alligator Cowboy Boots

I always figured I'd bite the dust some day, but not with a damned gun over my head, while staring at a pair of cowboy boots!

The shot came along with the thought of my own demise, and the crack was almost deafening. A yellow blaze flashed from the gun and I turned my head to look at Dave and his prisoner.

The guy with Dave wore dirty, low hanging jeans and a blue shirt. Rick's bullet hit at the base of the man's neck, and blood immediately soaked the back of his blue shirt, shoulder and upper arm. His knees buckled as he toppled backward, and he came to rest primarily on his left side with Dave's gun still clutched in his hands.

Garvey looked as if he'd been hit by a mack truck! He was blood splattered and as white as a sheet. His left arm still reached toward the door he'd been opening only seconds earlier, while his right hand was frozen midway to his empty holster. He stared at the dead man at his feet and I wondered if he was in shock.

Voices dragged my attention away from Dave and the dead man and I realized we were being besieged by an army of cops. They came from all directions, each with gun in hand; some running full speed ahead while others crept up more cautiously, but each moved toward Dave and the dead man.

I still lay at Rick's feet.

He remained in a crouched position, but relaxed now with the gun still in his hands.

The cops came past us and no one approached Rick to take the gun or to ask what he was doing shooting people, or to ask why I was lying in the middle of the floor at his feet!

My eyes came to rest on his right boot.

"Nice boots. I like that shade of brown. Wonder if he has spurs that go on those chains. Wonder if he can handle a horse like he can handle that cannon he carries somewhere on that southwestern body of his?" I thought to myself.

Don't Ride With Spurs

"Whatcha doin' down there?" his John Wayne voice drawled.

I looked up into that same set of soft, coffee brown, eyes that said "trust me, I'll listen," and realized his eyes sort of matched the boots!

"Just checkin' out the boots dude ..... just checkin' out the boots," I replied.

"Size 10 1/2 ..... don't ride with spurs," he grinned ...

and the cops just kept coming past....

....end of dream .....

Bonnie M. Wells

Rick Walker - Action Report

This story clip comes to you from Pure Coincidence Book Number 22

Catch Twenty-Two

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Page posted/updated: 2-20-04 / November 2006 / BMW