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From: A Week in Agony...Texas

SUNDAY
Carla and Charlie move to town

"Charlie?" Carla Speck called. The southwest Texas sun was just coming up behind them. "Wake up, we're almost there."

Charlie stirred, tilted his head to scan the passing scenery and was shocked to see how drastically it had changed in the dark of night, from the greenery of the Midwest, to this bleak desert.

A strange looking beast, something akin to what he would call a cow, stood off to the side of the highway, casually chewing cud. The horns looked to be wider than the big Plymouth they were driving; one pointed up while its opposite angled down. Charlie wondered if it were some sort of freak breeding mutation as he took in the strange hump at its shoulders. "AhMom? What is that thing?"

"I think it's a cow of some sort. I've been seeing them all along this last stretch of road. One was actually out on the highway and wouldn't move when I blew the horn. I nearly hit the damn thing-and you, sleepy head, slumbered right through it."

"That's the strangest looking thing I've ever seen." Charlie was sitting up now and at once taking in the scant outlines of a town up ahead and far to the north, a purple-hazed suggestion of plains drifting on and on like a rolling sea, while everything close was desolate.

"This place looks likethose posters of Mars."

"Yeah, kinda barren, isn't it?" Carla said as she lighted another Bel-Air.

"Where's all the cowboys and stuff?"

Carla shrugged and puffed her smoke. "Haven't seen any of those yet."

"I'm sorta scared, Mom."

"Me too, Charlie. I don't know a thing about this place except what your Dad used to say about it and he never spoke all that fondly of it."

"I'd still like to know how it got to be called Agony."

"Well. . ." Carla exhaled smoke, "From the looks of things so far along this road, which is the only road in or out, I bet the town suits the name."

"Great," Charlie muttered. "Two days ago I was sitting in the bleachers at Wrigley Field, now. . .man, they probably don't even play baseball here. Probably all they do is. . .cow stuff."

Carla laughed and tossed her smoke out of the window. "Don't sweat it, kiddo. At least we got a roof over our heads and a little money in the bank. At least your Dad saw to that. Besides, you love Cowboy stuff-right?"

Charlie didn't answer. He had already decided to be miserable here in this awful, new town-despite his keen interest in everything about the Wild West.

Chicago was already beginning to sting his memory: from the gang of hooligans

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