A Long Way Home
Copyright© 2026 by Asa Strong
Chapter 4
When I pulled into the farmyard, a large, teenage boy stepped out onto the house porch. I shut the RV down and climbed down from the monster and headed towards the house.
“Hi there, I’m Hoyt Wring.” I hailed, as I was about halfway to the porch.
“Hi, you must be Dad’s friend. I’m Dwight Jr. Most folks just call me JR.” He replied with a grin covering his face.
The boy looked to be about sixteen and must have stood six foot five or so. He was a big kid, maybe two-twenty.
“Yeah, that’s me, I talked to your mom earlier today.”
“Yeah, she’s expecting you. Dad’s up on the north section disking.”
“Come on in,” he continued, “I’ll send one of the kids to let Dad know you’re here.”
He turned and opened the door, and I followed him into the house. We entered a small mud room, with boots and various coats and other outdoor clothing decorating the wall, hanging from hooks. I also noticed a couple of rifles and shotguns hanging on the wall, as we entered the kitchen. A large woman with dark hair, starting to grey a bit around the temples, was pulling a loaf of bread out of the oven as we entered. She sat the bread on a rack on the counter to cool, then wiped her hands on her apron.
“I’m Mary Rollins, Dwight’s wife.” She said, extending her hand.
“I’m glad to meet you, ma’am,” I replied, shaking her hand.
“You’re welcome, we always like to have visitors.”
Mary turned towards the rear of the house and hollered, “Della, put your book down and run up and tell your dad we got company.”
Turning back to me, she said, with a small smile, “That girl can’t keep her nose out of a book. I swear if there was a library close, we’d never see her.”
I laughed as a young girl, maybe twelve or thirteen, sped through the kitchen like a small tornado.
“OK, Mom, you didn’t have to holler.” She said over her shoulder as she headed for the front door.
“Yeah, right,” Mary answered as the house screen door slammed.
I sat at the table talking with Mary and JR for about ten minutes or so before Della and Dwight returned.
“Well, I see you didn’t get lost!” Dwight said while shaking my hand.
“Nope, pretty hard to get lost when all the roads run North-South or East-West,” I said, laughing.
Dwight introduced me to the rest of his children, the ones I had not met. This man had not wasted much bedroom time; he had a total of five. The oldest was JR at seventeen, and the youngest girl, Becky, was seven.
Lunch was as filling as it was good. We had roast beef sandwiches, probably leftover from a pot roast the night before, coleslaw, and green beans. It had been a long time since I had fresh bread, and I showed my appreciation, three sandwiches worth.
After lunch, the kids clamored to see the RV, so we all trooped out and let them have a look. After a bit, Dwight shooed everyone out except JR, with the explanation that I hadn’t come all the way here to have a bunch of kids raising hell in his RV.
We got ourselves settled in the RV, and Mary brought us a fresh cup of coffee. We then got down to my business. I explained what I had done and my basic thoughts on building a house. My first major concern was state and county building codes. The house I had in mind was going to be a bit more than radical, and I could just see a whole barrel of trouble with the government. I also mentioned that I really wasn’t too keen on that lawyer in Denver and asked if there was anybody decent in the area. We covered these areas and more as the afternoon wore on.
About two o’clock, Dwight sent JR to get their address book. We spent the next twenty minutes with me copying names and numbers into my notebook. When we were done, I had the names and numbers of most of the people I’d need to work with as well as Dwight’s impression of them. Of particular interest to me was a lawyer he recommended in Akron, the county seat for Washington County. We also went over the plats for my property. They were much more descriptive and even I could decipher them. During this whole time, JR hadn’t said much, and while I was getting ready to let Dwight know I’d better get a move on, it occurred to me that maybe I could use a bit of help.
“Dwight, what you got JR doing around here?” I asked.
“Well, mostly he takes care of the chores while I’m out in the fields. I’d rather be on a tractor anyway. Why, you got something in mind?” He said with a grin.
“Yup, was thinking that I could use some help building this house.”
“Well, the other kids sure could cover the chores, especially the girls. It’s ‘bout time they did a little work around here.”
I turned to JR, “You interested in helping me? I can probably pay about eight bucks an hour?”
“I sure would like that. I’ve wanted to get me a pickup, but money’s kind of hard to come by.”
“Well, soon as I get myself halfway settled, I’ll get ‘hold of ya.”
We sat there and shot the shit for a bit more, then Dwight said he’d better get back to disking. He wanted to get it ready for a cover crop of clover. I guess he was going to let it sit fallow.
I marked the mileage on the RV as I left Dwight’s place. I wanted to see how far it was from my farm. When I reached the place Dwight and I had been the other day, it was just a bit over ten miles, almost directly east of where Dwight’s farm was.
I drove the fence line until I found a barbed wire gate. I pulled the RV up, got out of the truck, and unlatched the gate, then drove through. After closing the gate, I decided that I would park the RV and unhitch my truck, that way I could take a better look at the property. I found a reasonably level spot not far from the gate and parked the RV. After I shut down the engine, I sat down at the table and pulled the plats out to study them a bit more.
The plats showed that my property consisted of four sections, a two-by-two miles square area, and it looked like I was currently parked in the South-West section. Each section was bordered by a road, making four separate areas.
I assumed all the sections were fenced, so I might as well start exploring the one I was in. I unhooked my pickup and started looking over the terrain. I really wanted to find a good place to build a house, and was concentrating on areas that would be protected from the wind.
The topography in this section of land consisted mostly of small sand hills running in a North-South direction. There were a couple of spots where a house could be built on the south side of a hill, but nothing really jumped out at me.
By the time I’d finished my inspection and returned to the RV, it was almost four in the afternoon. Since I had not thought of bringing any food with me and was hungry, I continued out to the roadway instead of stopping at the RV. I’d catch dinner at the restaurant in Cope tonight.
When I entered the restaurant, there was a large woman behind the counter, stacking plates on a shelf on the wall. When I say large, I don’t mean fat. This woman was at least six feet tall and probably weighed 180 pounds with shoulders and arms that belonged on a line backer for the Denver Broncos.
“Hi there,” she said, as I took a seat at the counter.
“Hi yourself, you must be Loraine?” I asked.
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