Leaving San Dimas in the territory of California, Jean Baptise was eager to reunite with his friend and fellow explorer, Juan Bautista. Lamar, one of the waitstaff at Denny's, had told us we could find Juan Bautista in the township of Riverside. So our band pressed forward.
Only a mile or two along the passageway to the village aside the River, Jeep began fighting Clark's acceleration until she came to a halt. Trumpets blared about us. Clark continued attempting to encourage Jeep's movement to no avail. Other wagons veered past us at great velocity accompanied with shouts of irritation and further trumpeting. As only inquisitive young minds can discover, Little Pomp pulled his mother's attention to a yellow light behind the guiding wheel. The picture was unidentifiable, the glowing image novel to our band.
We spent a great deal of time unmoving upon the passageway, all the while Clark demanding Jeep move forward and barking at Sacagawea for her insistence that a Cherokee built machine would be superior to all others. Of course he said this in his frustration, and would later beg forgiveness of her.
Amidst the horns and anger, a large white wagon arrived behind us. It possessed a crane not unlike the ones used along the New England coastline for launching ships into the sea. A man of robust stature approached me at my window and wanted to know if we required assistance. Clark's pride wished to lash out a contradictory statement, but the rest of us held Clark's tongue, accepting this man (Rueben's) aid.
We departed the wagon. Rueben moved his own transport before ours, lifting Jeep from the roadway. Little Pomp was so intrigued by the crane that it was all Sacagawea could do to keep the boy from stepping before the rapidly traveling wagons. It came to my attention at this time that the trumpets had stopped upon Rueben's arrival.
We were escorted into Rueben's wagon. Although its size was impressive, we found our band, along with Rueben at the guiding wheel, tight fitting in the single seat. Nevertheless, Rueben set us on our way off of the main passageway, detouring our journey. Rueben gave snicker to our predicament, insisting we were foolish to ignore the "gas gage." Little Pomp spoke up with the question all of us had upon our confused minds. He solicited Rueben what he meant referring to a "gas gage." Rueben reacted to the boy in a childlike voice, telling him that perhaps Little Pomp should be in charge of watching the "gage" as the adults (referring to us) were obviously naive to it, thusly causing Jeep to "run out of gas."
Bewildered faces upon us all, our band sat back in silence as Rueben carried the five of us, and Jeep, forward. To where, we had yet to discover.
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