Fool's Wisdom

by Jay Heavner

  “I accept your generous offer,” Tom said,” but would you answer two questions? That cat will remain friendly, won’t she, and just who are you?” The old guy smiled, revealing several missing teeth. “Don’t worry about Kitty. She likes you. She told me that. And like I told you, my name is Gerald. Let’s fill in the details about who we are and why we are here in the morning. You look like you could use some rest. Now, let me see how bad you are hurt. Take your coat off, and I’ll get a good look at you.

  In the dim light of the lantern, Tom looked into the old man’s eyes. They had a kind, knowing look that spelled trust. Tom winced in pain as he struggled to take off the coat. Gerald carefully helped him. “Now, let’s take a look at that bloody head.” The older man scrutinized the wound. “Looks like you hit something real hard, like a rock. You’re going to have a goose egg in the morn. What else hurts?”

  “My side here.” Tom pointed to the place.

  “I’m gonna check and see if you got any broken ribs. Tell me if it hurts and how bad.” The old man gently touched where Tom had shown and began to make ever-widening circles around the spot slowly. Tom winced in pain. The old man spoke, “The good news is, nothing’s broken. The bad news is, you’re gonna be sore for some time, but you’ll survive.”

  Tom laughed, but it hurt. He winced in pain again. “What do I owe the good physician for his services?”

  “There’s no charge. Your account was paid in full a long time ago.” His response puzzled Tom, but he said nothing to his kind host. “I have some jerky and bread, and we can have a spot of tea to wash it all down.”

  Quickly, the old man got two tin plates and a couple of chipped cups. He poured the hot water from the stove into the cups and dropped a tea bag in each. He got some dark brown jerky from another large glass jar, and then bread from a tin box. He placed these on the two plates for the men’s supper. Another piece of jerky, he threw to the big cat that devoured it.

  He then bowed his head and prayed, “Lord, bless this meager meal to our bodies. Help this young man to heal in his body and in ways he’s not even aware of. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Tom said. Strange prayer from an odd but kind man.

  The men ate the meal with little talking. Tom was tired. “Got some canned peaches for dessert. Want some?” asked Gerald.

  “Sure,” said Tom. “This banquet just keeps getting better and better.” Tom looked at Gerald, “I thank you for your kindness, but please, tell me who you are.”

  Gerald paused and smiled. “Like I told you, my name is Gerald, and I’m here to help you. If I was going to do you harm, don’t you think I would have done it already?”

  Tom nodded his head. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

  “Tomorrow, we’ll talk. Give me that plate when you’re done. Can’t say bedding is much here. I always used a rolled-up bamboo mat like they do in the Orient. Got some army blankets to keep you warm, if the fire dies down. And, oh, Kitty may cuddle up next to you. She’s nice and warm, but there’s a tradeoff.”

  “Fleas?” asked Tom.

  “No, she snores.”

  The two men finished eating, and Gerald washed the dishes and cup in a bucket. He showed Tom the mats and blankets and pointed to a spot on the dirt floor where he could sleep. The exhausted Tom was soon asleep on the mat. Gerald spoke as he looked at Tom. “Poor man could have slept on a sack of rocks as tired as he was. Lord, help me meet his needs and point him in the right direction tomorrow. Lord, please don’t let me fail.”

  Chapter 14

  Tom slowly rolled over on the mat that separated him from the floor. His side and head hurt, but he’d slept reasonably sound on the hard surface. His sleep had been free of the nightmares that sometimes caused him to awaken in a cold sweat since leaving Vietnam.

  The smell of cooking food rolled across his nostrils, and it smelled good. He sat up and saw old Gerald fixing something in a skillet and a pot on the flat-topped iron heat stove.

  “Well, my young friend, I trust you slept well. I hope you’re feeling better this morning. I got some jerky heating and water for some grits and cowboy coffee. It’s that Chock full O’ Nuts brand. I like it because it’s that heavenly coffee, you know. Hope that suits you,” said Gerald.

  Tom’s stomach growled. “That sounds good to me. Thank you. And yes, I’m feelin’ better this morning. My side and head still hurt, but it’s tolerable. Like you said last night, healing will take a few days.”

  “Good to hear that. We got lots to talk about after breakfast. The only bathroom of sorts for those human needs is the outhouse just around the rocks in front. Follow the path, and you can’t miss it. I’ll take care of our breakfast. And Kitty is somewhere out there. You wouldn’t want to frighten ‘er,” he said as he grinned.

  “Thanks for the info on Kitty. No, I wouldn’t want to surprise her. And I do need to take care of business. That rumble in my gut’s more than hunger.”

  Tom rose slowly to his feet. That fall into the arroyo would take a while to recover from. He could feel hurts all over, but his head and side ached worse. Gerald handed him his coat. It was challenging to put it on with so much in pain, but he managed. Tom opened the rough wood door to the cabin and stepped out into the chilly morning air. The sun was just above a mountain ridge that formed the eastern horizon far away.

  The way to the outhouse was easy to see, as Gerald said. Tom walked down the path and around the rocks where he found the little shack with its well-weathered boards. It reminded him of some he’d seen and used back in the hills of home. He went in, dropped his drawers to his knees, and sat down just in time. How anything that looked and smelled so good going in could come out so stinking and nasty, he did not know. It was a mystery.

  The wooden seat was cold on his bare skin, but he quickly forgot about it as he looked out the outhouse door that faced the east. Never in his life had he seen such stark beauty. The early light from the sun danced on the rock formations that stretched as far as his eyes could see. It would be a horrible place to get lost, but he was overwhelmed with the colors in the rocks before him; muted yellows, deep reds, pinks, vermillion, and smoky whites in linear patterns. A picture indeed would be worth a thousand words, but even a million words couldn’t do justice to all his eyes beheld. Tom sat for at least a minute absorbing the beauty in spite of the cold air. He forgot where he was until some passing gas reminded him why he was here. Nearby was an old Sears catalog, and Tom ripped a page from the book, the gun section, he noted. He tore out another page to finish off necessary paperwork and then pulled his pants and underwear over his cold bottom. Strange. His deposit down the hole seemed to be the only contribution lately. Everything else at the bottom seems like it had been left there a long time ago. He walked into the brilliant sunlight and again stopped to feast in nature’s beauty. Surely, this was done by a Master’s hand.

  He walked hastily back to Gerald’s old cabin. He opened the door and saw Kitty lying in the spot where she’d slept last night. The big cat raised her head to acknowledge Tom almost like a human would. Then she put her head on her paws in front of her and closed her eyes.

  “About time you made it back. Thought you might have fell in, and I’d need to get a rope and pull you out,” Gerald said.

  “No, I’m fine. A little stiff, but everything came out okay. What I hadn’t expected was to see such beauty here. Your outhouse must have the best view in the state, if not the whole country.”

  “I know,” said Gerald. “Me and Kitty spent many a sunrise sitting on the rocks upwind from the outhouse basking in our Creator’s morning performance. It never gets old. They call that area the Maze. Many an outlaw holed up there in years gone by. Butch Cassidy, the Sundance Kid, and Butch’s gang, the Wild Bunch, had a place they called Robber’s Roost out there. It has only one way in and one way out. A single man with a good rifle could hold off an army. Smart lawmen wouldn’t go in there. Those that did never returned.

  “Now, I got everything ready for you: coffee, grit
s with leftover peaches, some bread, and jerky bacon. I hope it meets your satisfaction. And I got some sugar and powdered milk for your coffee, if you like. Grab that stool and bring it over to my little table.”

  Tom said, “That meal sounds great. I like my coffee black. Is cowboy coffee like campfire coffee? I’ve had that.”

  “Yup, one and the same. Nothing like starting the day off with some strong coffee. But first, would you bless the meal?” asked Gerald.

  Tom looked at him from across the small table and said, “I’m not used to praying, but I’ll try to do my best. Lord, Creator of all things large and small, Creator of the great beauty I see here, bless this food to our bodies and give us strength today. Amen.”

  Gerald looked at Tom and said, “I thought you just said you weren’t used to giving blessings. That prayer had all the marking of a preacher man. I’ve known clergy with lots of experience that couldn’t give a sincere prayer like that. Now, no more time jawin’. Eat up.” And they did.

  The two hungry men gobbled the cowboy meal. They didn’t talk and seemed to be studying each other. When they were done, Gerald took the dirty items and washed them in a bucket of water. He dried the plate and cups with a worn towel and then wiped his hands dry. “Now, let’s get down to business,” he said as he sat down. “I know why you’re here. You’re lost, more lost than you even know, and you’re running from what you need to do.” He let those words sink in. “And I’d like to try to help you.”

  “I don’t think you can help me. I don’t think anyone can.”

  “Try me. I have all day. I’ve got an eternity that I can wait, if necessary.”

  Tom looked at the older man, and somehow, he knew he wanted to trust Gerald. He’d befriended Tom when he really needed a friend and had asked nothing in return. Still, something held him back from opening up. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself? What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere, and how did you ever get a mountain lion named Kitty for a pet?”

  Gerald smiled. “Guess I do owe you somewhat of an explanation. You know my name. I grew up in Green River and have family over there. Back in 1941, I got a call from Uncle Sam and ended up in the Marines fighting the Japanese across every God-forsaken, mosquito-infested island in the Pacific. I got sick a couple of times from who knows what diseases but always got better in spite of the medics and doctors. I never got shot somehow, but in the confusion of one battle, I ended up behind enemy lines and was captured. I weighed 96 pounds when our prison camp was liberated. I saw more horror and cruelty than a thousand men in a thousand lifetimes should see. The Japs knew they couldn’t hold the position and were killing everyone to try to cover up their horrible deeds. They were shooting, bayoneting, and clubbing Americans and a few British prisoners in the prison camp to death. One hit me in the head with the butt of his gun. He thought he’d killed me and left me for dead. The blow that knocked me cold saved my life. The rest of those alive, they herded into a building and set it afire. Anyone who attempted to escape they shot.

  “The next day, the Marines arrived. Out of 542 men, only ten survived. They found me more dead than alive. My head was split open, and Uncle Sam did the best he could to patch me up, but my fighting days were over. You see, the surgeons put a steel plate in my head to make up for the busted skull. They told me if I ever bumped it wrong, it could kill me. They gave me a medical discharge, GI benefits, and a war-related disability stipend that came once every month.

  “When I got back home to Green River, I found I had no desire to be around people anymore. So I found this place, built this cabin, and here I lived happily ever after, more or less. Once a month, I go into town, pick up my check, and get the supplies I need.”

  Tom asked, “And what about the cat? How did you get Kitty?”

  “I always had a way with animals. There was never a horse or dog, no matter how wild I couldn’t tame. Cats are a whole different critter. I found Kitty all broke up and hurt. She looked like she’d been in a big fight and came out second best. When I first tried to help her, she took a swat at me and gave me this scar on my cheek. I guess she thought I was trying to harm her. I was more careful after that. To make a long story short, I nursed her back to health, but it did take quite a while, and when she got healthy and well enough to go, she wouldn’t go, and that’s how I got me a Kitty. Ain’t that right, girl?”

  The big cat, who’d been observing, puckered up her face and growled pleasantly.

  “See,” said Gerald. “She understands me.”

  Tom nodded his head in agreement. The man and cat did seem to be able to communicate despite their differences.

  “Okay, young man. You’ve heard my story. Now, tell me yours. What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere, as if I don’t know?”

  Tom was now ready to tell his tale. “I got in some trouble back home, and my choice was jail or the Army. I took the Army and ended up in Vietnam. There was a battle that lasted three days. I saw many men die horrible deaths. I had some friends; one died almost immediately, shot through the head. I still remember wiping his brains off my face. Somehow, me and Chris, a big Navajo Indian, managed to survive the hell till the last day. A Huey chopper came in carrying supplies that kept us in the fight and not overrun by the North Vietnamese Regulars. We unloaded the goods and were loading the helicopter with dead and wounded men. They were stacked like cordwood; there were so many. I took a round. Chris was in the process of throwing me in the chopper when he was hit in the chest with numerous rounds. I managed to pull him in, and the Huey took off. He was lying on top of me, eye-to-eye bleeding to death. His dying request was that I tell his dad that he died in battle, and I promised Chris I would. He lived on the big Navajo reservation in Arizona. I chickened out, and my stomach churns every time I think about it. I know I should go, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I’m miles from where I should be. I can’t do it. And on top of that, every time I hear an explosion, whether it’s firecrackers or a truck backfiring, my mind tells me I’m back in Vietnam in battle.”

  Neither man spoke after Tom finished his tale. The big cat watched attentively but remained silent. After a long pause, Tom got up and said, “I think I need some air and some time to think.”

  Gerald nodded, “You take all the time you want. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Got all the time in the world. I’ll be here at the cabin, Kitty and me.”

  Tom went out and climbed up the red sandstone cliff until he was high above the cabin. The sun danced on rock formations that went on for what seemed forever. He found a suitable spot and sat. What am I gonna do?

  Several hours passed as Tom pondered the question. He knew what he needed to do; there was no way around it.

  He rose from the hard, cold sandstone and looked to the area called the Maze to the east. He could understand now why Gerald had chosen this hill for his home. Someday, he hoped he could return again during better times. Tom walked down to the cabin and entered. Gerald and the big cat acknowledged his presence, but he remained silent. Tom smelled soup warming on the stove and saw hot water for coffee heating.

  “I’m gonna do it,” said Tom.

  “Gonna do what?” asked Gerald.

  “I’m gonna keep the promise I made to Chris. I’m goin’ to go see his dad.”

  Gerald’s rawhide face lit up. “Well, praise be. I so hoped that would be the choice you made. I’d have a tough time looking myself in a mirror if I reneged on a promise. Chris’s father really should know what happened from someone who was with Chris. I think it’ll mean the world to him.”

  “I hope you’re right. I think I’d almost want to face the gooks again than finish this task. It ain’t gonna be easy telling him about his son’s death.”

  “No, it won’t, but it will help bring closure for his father.”

  Tom nodded his head. “Looks like my generous host has soup for lunch. Could we have some soon? I don’t know how I can ever repay you for all you’ve done. I’d like to be goin’ after lunch. I’v
e got a long way to go,” he paused, “if I knew how to get out of here.”

  “Did you see a big fireball explosion before you came here?”

  “Why yes, how did you know?”

  “The Army’s been testing rockets that cruise. Top Secret Stuff, but everyone around here knows about it. They’ve been launching them from two pads just east of Green River, and they’re supposed to land downrange at White Sands in New Mexico. Most, but not all, are doing just that. It seems the system has a few bugs that need worked out. With one, they tried to wake up the dead down in some little town in Mexico. It landed in a cemetery and made the locals mad till Uncle Sam fixed up the graveyard better than new and greased some of the state officials’ palms. All the hoopla died down soo after that. Another rocket didn’t stop and kept going. It’s probably in the waters of the Pacific Ocean, or maybe the Amazon jungles of Brazil. No one knows. And one crashed and burned yesterday ‘bout a mile away from here a couple of hills over. Then, you showed up.”

  “My vehicle’s over there if there’s anything left of it. Can you take me back so I can see what I’m gonna have to do?”

  “Sure, you’ll never find it if I don’t show you. I want you to remember the trail. You may want to come back sometime. You’d be welcomed.”

  Tom nodded his approval, and they placed the food on the table to eat. After a short prayer, the two men chowed down on the meager meal. Shortly after they finished, Gerald told Tom it was time to go. They left the dishes on the rustic table, and with the big cat in the lead, headed out the door. The ground was still frozen. Tom said he worried that if it thawed and turned to mud, he may not be able to drive out, that is if his microbus was still in one piece.