Three Cans of Soup by Don Childers Page A

sumthin’,” Ted said with a hearty laugh. “Say, I went ahead and cut you a piece of pie.” Ted held out a brown paper sack. “Don’t want you to starve on your way to Texas.”
    “Thanks!” Bill said, grinning ear to ear. “You are both so kind. God bless you both!”
    “Hope so,” said Ted.
    Bill turned to leave, and then paused and turned back. “There is one thing you could help me with. I plan to throw my blanket down and sleep by my car, but I was wondering if there is a good place to do that around here?”
    Ted scratched behind his ear and thought for a moment. “Yep, if you drive down this road a little more west, you’ll see a sign that reads ‘KOA Campground’. Just turn in there and tell the guy that Ted sent you. He won’t charge you and will let you bed down there. It’s a lot safer than on the side of the road.”
    “Thanks, thanks a lot.” And with that, Bill left Ted’s Café feeling that this was going to be a wonderful adventure. He got into the Dodge, started it up and headed down the road. Within a mile he saw the sign for the KOA campground. It was dark as he turned into the campground. The man at the gate did just as Ted had predicted. When Bill told him, “Ted sent me,” the man just waved him in and told him a good place to camp for the night.
    “Ted’s a right good fella,” the man said. Bill just smiled and nodded.
    As Bill unrolled his blanket and lay down, he had never seen such a beautiful sight. It seemed like there were millions, no trillions of stars arching across the sky. It was not long before he settled into a deep sleep.
    The next morning was spectacular. The sun rose above the mountains and gave the world a fresh look. Bill, sleepy but energized from a good night’s sleep, rose early, just as the sun was peering over the mountains to the east. He rolled up his sleeping bag and ate a quick breakfast of rolls he had purchased the night before. Soon he was driving east toward Montana. As he began the climb over the Rockies his small Dodge struggled. As the altitude increased, Bill began to wonder if the little car would even make it over the Great Divide. Coming up behind the double logging trucks was no problem, since he could not outrun them. The problem was when they came up behind him. Several times he pulled to the side of the road to let the monsters pass.
    Finally the little Dodge and Bill were through the worse of it. He left Idaho and entered Montana. Soon the miles drifted behind him and he approached the small town of Red Lodge, where his friends were waiting. It was evening when Bill finally arrived at the home of Paul and his wife Lynn. Red Lodge was a very small town with a rustic flavor, where Paul worked with the Forest Service. Paul and Lynn had moved there after graduation. Lynn had grown up near Billings and wanted to live close to her parents, at least during their first year of marriage. However, for reasons similar to Bill’s, Paul had decided to enter seminary, and so the three friends would make the journey to Fort Worth, Texas, together. When Bill had gotten Paul’s call that he, too, had decided to enter ministry and had at the same time decided on the same graduate school as Bill, it seemed to him to be a miracle. He would be going to school with his best friend.
    Paul was shorter than Bill, with a stocky build. His dark skin came from the fact that he was one-quarter Cherokee, something he was very proud of. Lynn was slightly taller, well-proportioned with dark flowing hair. Lynn had grown up in Montana on a ranch and loved both the outdoors and horses. Bill thought that his best friend was the luckiest person on earth to have married someone like Lynn. Bill had been Paul’s best man at the wedding a year ago.
    That evening the three ate a hearty dinner of roast beef, boiled potatoes, and green beans followed by Lynn’s famous apple pie. They settled down after dinner to several Coors and swapped stories.

 
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    The next day the