When I woke up the next morning my wives were snuggled warmly about me. I just lay there like a sultan of Araby, soaking it up. I drowsily considered the most cost effective way to do my work. If I continued to stay in hotels as I made my rounds, it was soon going to get very expensive.
Even if every hotel gave me the same type of excellent discount Mr. Wagner had here, just the rent would exceed what I made as a deputy marshal, leaving me and mine prey to the vagaries of the medical profession. With the added expense of eating in restaurants the cost of doing business quickly becomes prohibitive. I would have to come up with something more economical.
If I could manage to use my camper as a mobile clinic, and traveling home, I'd save a lot of money. With its modern bunks it would be more comfortable than these rooms. The formica and metal surfaces were a lot cleaner and easier to keep that way. All I had to do was figure out a way to use the thing without it drawing a whole lot of attention.
My bladder did its usual morning insistence that I rise and drain it. Thus, I got up and went out back to the privy to attend to my morning ritual. When I returned from communing with nature, I found my wives were up and dressed.
Standing Bear, that walking appetite I loosely but still proudly called a son, declared they were all ready to go eat. I suspect he said that to divert attention from himself...
I washed my hands and face from my trip to the facilities in the basin provided by the hotel. Then my family and I moved from our rooms into the dining room. I ordered breakfast of bacon, biscuits, and rice for all of us. The biscuits were Aunt Lou's special, and I have no idea who consumed the most, Bear or me. I figured those biscuits should be required to be licensed – they were so good they were addictive.
As we ate, I told the girls, "I will see patients until about noon. Then we'll head back to the ranch. We have a lot to do back there."
When I had to pay out $10 for our breakfast, I was even more convinced to figure out a way to use my camper. I had already decided that using it would save us a lot of money for a place to sleep and receive patients. The price of restaurant food drove home to me just how much additional savings could be had if we cooked our own meals. But, not only would we be saving a lot of money on accommodation and food, we would have the added convenience of being able to stay where ever we might stop – no rushing to get to town – no worrying if they had room, etc.
When we left the restaurant, I took my family back to the general store. I gave them some money to do some shopping and reminded them we would be returning to the ranch that afternoon. I also told them they should buy whatever we would need to set up housekeeping. They should also pick up whatever they felt might help Red Cloud's people in relocating their camp to the ranch. Then I left them busy in the store and went back to the office to receive today's patients.
When I arrived, I found a dapper little man waiting. He reminded me of some kind of dude dressed up to play cowboy. This gentleman wore a spotless suit of buckskin with two nickel plated revolvers belted about his waist. His head was adorned with a huge hat. In my time we would've called such a fancy dresser a 'goat roper'.
This apparition introduced himself as Charlie Utter, the man who led the wagon train that brought Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane to Deadwood. As I talked with him, I determined that Charlie was not a 'dude', but likely suffered from obsessive compulsive disorder. He was deathly afraid of getting sick by being dirty or being touched. He said he bathed at least twice a day, but was still afraid of sickness. His excessively neat and meticulous appearance was just another symptom of his condition.
Charlie was aware his obsession and subsequent compulsions were not 'normal', but that still didn't help him with his anxiety. More than any other in this time period, I realized that despite his irrational fear of dirt and disease, his compulsion for cleanliness could very well save his life. Therefore, I was careful in how I addressed his fears.
"Charlie, I know you're concerned that your fears are irrational, and to an extent they are, but I also know that keeping clean is still the best way to avoid disease. There's nothing I can do at this time to help with your anxiety. However at the same time, I think that while your behavior may seem odd or crazy to others, as long as you can continue to function more-or-less normally, it is still a safe practice. Therefore, I suggest you continue what you have been doing – stay clean and avoid contact with sick people."
Charlie looked relieved when I finished my little speech. He appeared to be about to say something more, then abruptly changed the subject. "Do you have time to look at something? I think you may be interested in what I have to show you."
Just the way he said it, and from his slight smile, I was intrigued. I knew from history that Charlie Utter was an honest man. After all, he had been Bill Hickok's best friend. I had no fear of him leading me into an ambush or the like, so I figured he must be offering me some sort of business proposition.
There were no other patients waiting, and no one had appeared and left while I talked with Mr. Utter. I told him it looked OK, but I should check. I excused myself and went out to the lobby where I checked with the desk clerk. He had not had any enquiries today either. I advised him then that I would be leaving and had no idea when I would return. I returned to the office.
"I am at your disposal, Mr. Utter. Lead on."
The dapper gent then led me to where his wagon train was camped, about a mile north of town. He pointed out a couple of wooden wagons.
"These belonged to a snake oil salesman who got caught messing with another man's woman. He did not survive the encounter. Because they were part of my train, and still owed trail fees, I seized them against the debt. Would you be interested in them? I'm selling the whole rig."
Would I? Even from this distance, if they were even close to what I thought they might be, they could answer my dilemma about using my camper. It almost seemed as if there was some Force guiding me at every step so I could make a difference in this timeline. I tried to conceal my excitement – for the sake of negotiation, I should try not to look overly interested.
"Hmmm... if they can be suitably modified, they might fit into an idea I have been kicking around. Mind if I take a look at them?"
"Be my guest! You won't know if they are suitable unless you check them out. Here, I'll give you the tour."
As we approached them, I examined the two wagons more closely. They appeared to be set up like gypsy caravans. As we stepped up into the first one, Charlie pointed out that it was set up like a doctor's office. There was a lot of medical equipment. Although crude compared to my time it was the top of the line for now. There was even a small laboratory set up at the front. Too bad the previous owner had been such a cad and charlatan – he had some good ideas.
After poking around in the medical van, we moved over to the second wagon. It was set up as living quarters. It also was quite fancy for the times, but like the first one, was in serious need of a good cleaning. Dust covered everything. It was obvious that neither caravan had been looked after.
"They're pretty dusty. They'll need a thorough cleaning." I observed.
"Yes, well a few weeks on the trail will do that, Doc, if there's no one to keep them clean. Normally we would have left them behind and just taken the stock, but they looked like they might have some value. The drivers were paid up and agreed to stay on because they had already promised to get them here, but that was all they did. As soon as we got here though, they lit a shuck for the gold fields."
