This is a completed, 13 Chapter story. I'll post a chapter every Wednesday for the next few months. The story is set between "In which we meet Mr. Jones" and "The Equation." For what it's worth, there are no spoilers.
Now for the disclaimers. I do not own the characters or the concepts. Also, I have never been (to my knowledge) to West Yellowstone and all the characters and events there-in are entirely fictional. Finally—and this should go without saying—please review.
Prolog
"Oh, look, buffalo!" Walter said, pointing at the herd, at least 100 strong, that formed a majestic black swath across the white landscape. "Do you remember, Peter, when you were a boy and we were trapped in a herd of buffalo?"
"No, Walter," Peter answered with a frustrated sigh. "I wasn't there."
"Of course you were," Walter insisted. "It was during our family trip to Yellowstone. Don't you remember? We drove the whole way, and went to that horrible place with the free water."
"Yes, that I remember," Peter said. "But once we got here, you weren't around long enough to see any buffalo."
"We were there for two weeks," Walter said. "I remember it distinctly."
"You were there for two weeks. Mom and I were there for four days. After the first day, you disappeared. The second day we spent the entire time in the ranger station trying to figure out where you were. The third day, Mom gave up on you and tried to make the best of it with me," Peter clarified "The fourth day, we flew home."
"Ah yes, that's right," Walter said, as the memory dawned on him. He smiled and chuckled softly, as if he were recalling a family joke. "She was very mad."
"Yeah," Peter clipped, glancing at Olivia as if to say Can you believe him? "She was."
"Oh, and do you remember," Walter continued jocularly, apparently oblivious to how upsetting these stories were. "As I was driving home, how sick I got?"
"You actually got sick?" Peter asked, amazed. "I always thought mom was just covering for you."
"Acute appendicitis," Walter said, chortling. "Three days in a hospital in Sioux City. I still have the scar. Would you like to see?" He started unbuttoning his coat.
"No," Peter said sharply. "We trust you."
Olivia chuckled at the comment. Peter realized she must be in a good mood. When she was in a good mood, she was mildly amused by his interactions with his father. When she was under stress she ignored them. He figured that she was the kind of person who lost her sense of humor when she was stressed. Peter, on the other hand, relived his stress by making jokes. His father noticed, and accused him of being flippant. Peter shrugged that criticism off, noting that at least he was sane.
Peter's thoughts were interrupted as he turned a corner and saw a long line of cars stopped in front of him. "What the hell is this?" Peter asked no one in particular as he pulled up to the car in front of him. They'd turned into a forested area, with high trees on both sides, effectively cutting off the view to the right and left. The semi truck two cars in front of him blocked his view of anything in front of them. "We're in the middle of nowhere. Where did the traffic come from?"
"Maybe it's a buffalo crossing," Walter said dryly.
"There is nothing I hate more then buffalo," Peter said.
"I'll get out and see," Olivia said, opening her door and letting the sub-zero wind whip in.
Peter folded his arms tightly, as if he could hold on to the warmth with a bear hug. "Why did we have to come out here now?" he groused. "Couldn't you wait until spring?"
Walter shook his head. "Why put off till tomorrow what you can do today?"
"Because you can do it tomorrow without catching frostbite," Peter retorted.
"It is a buffalo crossing," Olivia said as she slid back into the car. She shut the door, aided by the harsh Montana wind. "Or rather, a whole herd. About ten cars in front of us."
"So, we'll be here for a while?" Peter asked.
"Yeah," Olivia sighed.
"Oh," Walter exclaimed. "Can we pull over? I have to go to the bathroom."
* * *
To be continued . . .
