What Could Go Wrong?

It's time to hit the trail again, except this time we're taking a covered wagon and some oxen. Ready to go to Oregon with us? Good! Here's Marin's version of the story...

“Let’s go to Oregon,” Trevor had suggested to me a couple days ago.

I’d frowned and glanced at him skeptically. “To Oregon?”

“Yeah!” He’d grinned and shook his head yes. “It’ll be fun.”

“What time period in Oregon?” His grin was a bit too excited. I didn’t want to get stuck on another submarine or discover another Nazi spy ring. Our last two adventures had left me worn out and tired. I didn’t want any more excitement.

“Oh, Oregon Trail. 1840s, y’know. Great migration out West. It will be fun!”

I had blinked and scratched my head. “Oregon trail? What’s that?”

I had thought Trevor’s mouth was going to fall open. “You- you don’t know-” he stammered.

“On second thought, I will go and find out myself,” I’d said, holding up my hand. “Let me do some reading and I’ll find out if I want to go or not.”

He couldn’t argue with that. He was always telling me I needed to make my own decisions and my own research, to find out about history and discover it for myself.

It didn’t take me long to figure out that the Oregon trail didn’t have submarines or Nazis or Communists. Socialist free, to be exact. In fact, everything I read about it sounded interesting. And, dare I say it? Exciting. Covered wagons. Pioneers. All heading West for a new life. Kind of like how I came to Hawaii for a new life after Czechoslovakia. I felt I could relate to this time period. It sounded fun. And perhaps not so dangerous.

Sure, there was sickness and accidents. But that was to be expected from any era. It sounded much safer than what we’d been engaging in as of late. And a lot calmer. Almost like a holiday!

So when I’d come to Trevor and told him I would like to come along, I found myself in five minutes flat on the seat of a buckboard and driving oxen, and in twenty minutes we’d joined a wagon train headed out West.

Such is the way of life with Trevor- he never waits long for anything.

I blinked and shaded my eyes, shaking my head out of my daydream.

"Marin!" A girl's voice called from farther ahead. "Marin, come quick! I want to show you something!"

"Looks like your friend wants to show you something, Marin," Trevor chuckled. He'd taken over driving the team of six oxen, whistling the same song over and over again.

We’d been on the trail for three days. In that time we’d joined a wagon train in Wyoming and had started our journey down the trail to Oregon. I'd made friends with another girl from a different wagon named Natalie, and Trevor had acquired a rifle. Not sure what he was going to do with it, but he insisted he needed a rifle. I trusted his judgement, but I wasn't sure if I trusted his capability of shooting. During the entire three years I'd been with him, I'd never seen him use a gun. Ever.

"Would you mind if I went over to where she is and joined her?" I asked Trevor. "Or did you want me to hang around here for now?"

Trevor waved it off. "Nah, I'm fine lass. Go and join your friend. Have some fun! I can handle the team."

I leapt off the buckboard and ran in the direction of my dark-haired friend. I was careful to avoid the large wagons and wheels that rolled past me, running ahead of the group and towards a field of grass.

This is wonderful, I sighed. Beautiful skies, friends, a nice, quiet wagon ride...

And a large rabbit that was squirming in Natalie's grasp.

"Whoa, Natalie, where did you get that?" I asked, coming to a stop.

Natalie was a year older than me, and a good five inches taller, too. She smiled, her brown eyes twinkling as she held up the rabbit around the neck. "I pulled it out of it's burrow!" she announced proudly. "We're going to have a great dinner tonight!"

I froze. "You're going to eat that?"

Natalie laughed and patted me on the shoulder. "Marin, Marin. You're a city-slicker through and through, aren't you? Of course we're going to eat it. We can cook it and make a great soup for everyone!"

Natalie had been on the trail for a good two or three months. She knew all about life on the trail- and apparently had no qualms killing a cute little bunny rabbit.

"But- but it's so cute," I managed.

She walked past me and ran towards the front of the wagon train. "Mr.Braun, Mr. Braun!"

I followed behind her at a slow pace. She's going to let the trail boss have the rabbit. I looked away when she handed the rabbit to the trail boss. Poor, poor bunny.

I decided I wouldn't have any of the stew tonight.

Natalie came back, all smiles and excitement. She stopped when she saw the look on my face. "Oh, come on Marin! It's okay!"

I shrugged. "I guess I'm still not used to trail life," I told her.

"Let's go and find some more! We could make a whole strew for the entire wagon train. Wouldn't that be fun?"

I hesitated. I didn't want to catch rabbits. I didn't want them to all be strangled and cooked up in a dinner pot.

But if I didn't go with Natalie, she'd think I was a baby.

She stood and waited for me, tapping her foot in impatience.

"Well, okay."

"Great!" Natalie clapped her hands together, than grabbed my hand and ran towards the tall grass. "Let's go!"

I sighed. Well, Oregon trail life did have it's setbacks. As usual. Hey, at least this isn't life-threatening, I decided. I'd been through much, much worst than this.

As we passed by my wagon, I waved to Trevor.

"We're going to go catch rabbits!" I called.

"Have fun!" he waved. "Stay out of trouble!"

"Right, like I'd ever try to get into trouble!"

Natalie laughed. "Oh Marin, your father is so funny. Other than rattlesnakes, what trouble could we possibly find out here?"

Wrong.

Twenty minutes later, we were staring down the barrel of a gun and were surrounded by horseback riders with handkerchiefs.

This- was not in the history book.

Come back next week for the final part of the story!