it was starting to get really cold.
and ben’s feet, with no shoes on them, were really starting to hurt.
if he could just get to the highway… but was it even there any more?
maybe there were no highways any more… just space lanes or dimension portals like in a science fiction movie…
sure, everything looked “the same” walking the few blocks from bill wilson’s house, but how did he really know?
and maybe… maybe bill had recovered enough to start looking for him! sure, ben had his car keys, but how much difference would that make?
ben came to a decision. he would knock on the door or ring the bell - did doors still have doorbells?- of the next house he came to and ask for help.
the next house looked like all the others, except that it was a little darker. there were no lights in the windows except the one that looked it was from a tv, and even that was not as bright.
a black car like the others he had seen was parked in a driveway. it looked like a station wagon, but without the wood paneling.
there was a doorbell. ben took a deep breath and pushed it. he could not hear it ring inside.
he waited a half a minute. nobody answered the door. should he try the bell again? knock? move on to the next house, which had lights in three windows? his feet were really cold and hurting him mow.
he decided to knock. but just as he was about to raise his hand, the door opened, and a man with a bushy beard stood before him, with what looked like a glass of wine in his hand.
“who are you?’ the man asked ben, in a gruff but not completely unfriendly voice.
“i’ve been kidnaped and held captive in a basement for thirty-three years - “ ben began.
“and you had to come along just when i was settling down to watch bonanza ? ha ha, just kidding.” the man looked down at ben’’s bare feet. “well, come on in, stranger, and you can tell me the whole story.”
ben eagerly followed the man in, and the man closed the door behind them, taking a quick look up and down the street before he did.
ben let the warmth of the house wash over him, more warmth than he had felt during his whole captivity, and almost fainted. “i’m, uh, sorry you are missing your show,” he told the man.
the man looked at ben strangely. “that’s all right, i put it on pause.”
ben did not know what that meant, but just nodded.
the bearded man led ben into a room filled with big comfortable chairs. the only light came from an enormous screen - a television? it looked built into the whole of one of the walls. but there was no movement on it - just a slightly flickering shot of hoss cartwright’s enormous head.
this was all sort of strange, but ben was too nervous to pay it much mind.
“have a seat,” the bearded man said. “can i get you something? a drink?”
ben had not tasted alcohol in the thirty-three years. “uh, no thank you.”
“coffee?”
ben hesitated.
“tea? my wife keeps tea for visitors. she’s away for the weekend, by the way.”
ben found his voice. “yes, that would be nice, thank you.”
“and i think you could use a comfortable pair of slippers.”
“yes, if - if you have some.” this was almost going too well, ben thought. he sank down on one of the chairs, facing the big screen with hoss cartwtight’s slightly scowling face gazing down on him.
“coming right up. and then you can tell me your story.”
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