I got rooked!

Ms. Russell at AT&T apparently misspoke when she told me that I have unlimited Internet for $60/month with the Laptop Connect Card. It turns out there is a limit and they don’t even have an unlimited plan with that device.

I inadvertantly went over my limit -- stupid Internet porn! -- and AT&T has cut me off until the beginning of the next billing cycle, which is December 7. A date which will live in infamy. I’ll have to rely on the networks of friends and family and various Wi-Fi hotspots until I’m back in the game.

So I’ll stay here. Y’all go on without me.

“No, Al, I can’t. We won’t leave you behind,” said Lucas, my devoted companion. I’d only known him since just before leaving St. Louis with him and his son, but we had become quite close in that short time.

“You’ll be better off without me,” I said. “I’ll just slow you down.”

I settled in with my back against a cottonwood and my Colt in my hand. I wasn’t figuring on sitting there helpless as a kitten if any Comanche came prowling around. I’d finish it quick.

“I can’t do it, Al,” he said.

“... Don’t you worry about me! I’ll be fine.”

He removed his old bowler and gripped its brim tightly in his hands. The boy hung his head solemnly, seemingly inspecting his well-worn boots.

“I’ll come back for you, Al. I swear,” said Lucas.

The boy looked up, his eyes red.

“Just promise me this,” I implored. “When you finally get out West, you find you a nice, quiet place by a bend in a river and you name a town after me, you hear?”

The boy held my gaze and said earnestly, “We will, Mr. Buquerque.”

Sorry. I went a little off topic.