Here is my entry for week one. The topic is "Ranch" and this story came about as the result of a series of thoughts that started with the ranch out on the priairie (as in "Meanwhile, back at the ranch," and progressed through a whole series of twists and turns to lead to...
 

Snake Oil

Cheerful music poured from the huge speakers atop the ancient travel trailer as it lumbered up and down the streets of the small, dusty, farming town. The crowd swelled as men, women, and children followed behind it along the dusty road out of town. When he found a convenient spot, the trailer pulled off the road and onto the prairie itself. Then the engine shut down and the only sound was the shuffling of people’s shoes and murmur of the breeze flowing across the ocean of long grass under hard blue sky.

The crowd waited patiently at first, soft murmurs drifting back and forth like the rustle of the long grasses out on the prairie. As time went by, the talk grew from whispers to a soft rumble of discussion. "What's it doing here?" An elderly gentleman in battered denim overalls asked of nobody in particular. As the crowd’s patience neared the breaking point, the side door opened and a stage-like platform rumbled slowly into view. A small paunchy man in a gaudy plaid suit stepped out onto it and stood watching the crowd.

Bowing slightly he said, "Welcome, welcome! Come one, come all..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle. Lifting it high over his head, he asked, "Do you know what this is, ladies and gentleman?" Without pausing to wait for an response, he answered his own question. "This is the solution for what ails you. Aches? Pains? This little miracle in a bottle will make them a faint memory."

"Hmph, snake oil salesman," said a stocky woman in the front row. Her face was care worn; she could have been any age from thirty to fifty. She wore a faded navy blue dress with white polka dots and on her feet were tattered white Keds. She looked around at the people nearest to her and said, "In this day and age, what with computers and all, ya wouldn’t think there’d be any of these quacks left."

The people standing near her laughed. Before the laughter could ripple through the crowd, the man leaned down toward her and said, "Ah, a skeptic. There’s one in every crowd." With a conspiratorial wink, he continued, "What is your name, my dear?"

"Martha."

"Well, Martha, you can call me Joe." He squatted at the edge of the platform. "Martha, do you have aches or pains?” When she reluctantly nodded, he said, “Let me give you a complimentary dose of this great little wonder drug. If you don’t feel better as soon as you take it, I’ll leave town immediately. You’ll never see me again."

He reached into his other pocket and pulled out a small cup, wrapped in plastic. He tore off the wrapper, filled it with bright red liquid from the bottle, and handed it down to the woman.

She sniffed the liquid, and then tentatively touched her tongue to it. With a smile of pleasure, she drank down the rest of the dose. The crowd watched her expectantly. "It tastes pretty good," she said.

"Give it a few moments madam and then tell us how you feel." He held up the bottle once again and continued his spiel. "Drink it and relieve your pain, rub it into your skin and cure psoriasis, shampoo with it to make your hair shiny and manageable. It’ll even relieve bunions and athlete’s foot."

He leaned back into the trailer and lifted out a guitar. Placing the bottle on the platform at his feet, he put the strap over his shoulder and began to strum a soft tune. "While we’re waiting for the good lady’s verdict, let me entertain you with a song."

The man played a raucous flourish on the strings and launched into a song about the Erie Canal. He was as involved with his playing as he had been with his presentation. When the song ended, the crowd applauded vigorously. "Well, Martha, how are you feeling now? Any aches or pains?"

Martha frowned. "I can't believe it," she said. "Not a single ache or pain." She ran each hand over the opposite arm and then down each leg. "I've had trouble with arthritis for years but the pain is gone. I'll take three bottles."

"That'll be thirty-seven fifty." Reaching through the doorway again, he pulled out three bottles. "What did I tell you friends? Who else wants to solve all of their problems?"

The crowd erupted forward and for quite a while, the man had all he could do to keep up with the orders. Finally, he held up his hands and waited for the crowd to quiet down. "I want to thank you. You've been wonderful customers but I'm out of elixir. Please come back tomorrow when I have a new shipment." He went inside the trailer and closed the door. After waiting a few minutes to see if he would return, the crowd slowly dispersed.

Later that night, Joe sat counting his take from the afternoon show. The door to the trailer opened. "How did we do?" Martha stepped in, and sat on the chair across from Joe. "Did we do as well as you thought?"

"Better. We took in close to seven thousand dollars." He chuckled. "Snake oil? I can't believe people even know what it is any more."

"It worked, didn't it?" She took the cash box and started stacking the money. Then she said, "Don't you think we ought to be on our way before people realize that stuff is just cherry syrup with an alcohol kicker?"