The Cowboy and Vampire - By Clark Hays & Kathleen McFall Page 0,2

when it's miserably cold. He was setting behind the wheel yawning and wagging his little stump of a tail and I reminded him for the umpteenth time that I was driving and to scoot the hell over, which he did reluctantly.

We set out, rattling down the ruts that serve as my front drive, bumping our way over two hundred acres of prime Wyoming grassland. When I say grassland, I mean just that: land with grass on it. Perfect for grazing though, and for decoration there's a beautiful tree and some lovely rocks down in one corner right next to my silver water tank. That same well supplies the water to my single-wide trailer that makes up in charm what it lacks in size. One of these years I plan on building me and Rex a little cabin, or at least adding on to the trailer, but that sort of stuff is a long ways off. Right now, I'm just happy that me and the bank own such a lovely piece of property.

Holding the wheel steady with my knee, I turned out onto the highway and put a chew in. Along the way, I met a bunch of folks I knew well enough to swerve across the center asphalt line like I was going to hit them and then they'd throw their arms up as if to cover their faces from the coming accident. All in all, it was big fun on Highway 14 at 7:00 in the morning, which says a lot about the entertainment prospects of living in LonePine.

LonePine, Wyoming, has a steady population of 438 people, except on the Fourth of July Rrightrrrrrrdeo and Outdoor Barbecue when folks come from as far away as the next county. Suddenly, there'll be several thousand people standing around in the sun, drinking beer and waiting until it's dark enough to go inside and drink beer. Not counting dirt roads, Highway 14 is the one major thoroughfare in LonePine connecting it to other, more exotic places like West Yellowstone, Montana and Salt Lake City, Utah. Cruising the main strip takes a grand total of three minutes. There's a bank, a pharmacy, a dress store, and a post office on one side. On the other side is a Radio Shack, which doubles as the mall, a video store, and the Sagebrush Cafe. Most important to the local folk, 'cause they figure so largely in LonePine's social pursuits, are the Silver Dollar and The Watering Hole. These two bars are famous for near a hundred miles around and even this early in the day there were several trucks parked out front. If I happened to drive by around midnight, they'd still be there.

Conveniently located behind the Silver Dollar is the Sleep-O-Rama Motel, where most of LonePine's public affairs are tended to. LonePine was one of the first towns in Wyoming to institute a recycling program, only it wasn't for empty pop cans and such, it was more in the area of personal relationships. Due to the limited number of available mates, folks round here took to using other people's. Under this system, one man's wife might be another's girlfriend and one woman's husband might be another's boyfriend. For the sake of fairness, those who participate in this program switch off partners every couple of months or so and thereby prevent any sort of jealous altercations from developing. The system is not foolproof, however, and many a heated discussion has erupted in the parking lot behind the Sleep-O-Rama centered around just how married a given individual may be.

It's usually resolved, after many beers, in a repledging of love at one of the two saloons. All in all, LonePine is just like any other sleepy, one-horse town in the wild, wild, dying West.

Although I was hungry for breakfast, I pulled into the post office first to check my mail that had been piling up for near a week.

Before I even had a chance to open my box, Melissa Braver walked in and started talking at me. Owing to the generous nature of her natural assets and her willingness to display them to her fullest advantage, she was somewhat of a destination resort around these parts. Melissa and me had stepped out a few times back in the days, but lived through it and even remained friends against the odds.

"Tucker, where you been?" she asked. "I haven't seen you around."

"Been up on Widow Woman Creek trying to patch up the north end." I checked my box. "Bills,