To Believe

by Carolyn Brown

  Two doors slammed and the vehicle disappeared back where it came from. Trey’s blood ran colder than the April rain dripping off the front of his slicker and onto his nose. Roseanna had been right. His life and his livelihood depended on him getting back to Tulsa and having a long conference with his father and grandfather.

  “Time to go,” Roseanna said.

  He didn’t argue, but slung a leg over the wet rock wall and followed behind. His legs ached. He had trouble breathing but he kept walking.

  The rain stopped thirty minutes later. Roseanna slung the hood of her slicker back and checked behind to see if he was still there. Even after four years of disappointments, something ached in her chest when she looked at him. To say that they had a physical attraction was the understatement of the year but that was a shaky foundation to build a marriage on. Like that Sunday school story she’d heard when she was a child about what happens when a house is built on sand, it crumbles and collapses when times get tough. She wanted to work until children came along. He wanted a trophy wife. She compromised by doing work at the shelter. He shut his eyes and pretended ignorance. She wanted a yard with a tire swing hanging from a tree. He didn’t want children at all.

  “What time is it?” He asked.

  She checked her watch. “Four o’clock. We may get a break with these clouds and be able to walk another few miles even after the sun is up. If we can make it until seven, I think we’ll be at a place where there’s a turn out and an old hiking trail. Could be we’ll find a plum thicket to burrow back inside for a few hours of sleep. You going to be able to hike much more?”

  “I can keep up with you any day of the week,” he said stoically. She might have rescued him but she wasn’t God.

  “Hmmph,” she said.

  Two hours later when the sun should have been hanging in the sky near the top of the mountain, giving form to the long elbows and knees of bare tree limbs attempting to birth to mint green springs, she found the cut off to the old hiker’s trail she remembered from her youth. She and her father had stopped there once when they’d made the drive from Talihini, Oklahoma to Mena, Arkansas just to see the fall foliage. Instead of a brilliant sunrise though, she and Trey trooped through fog so thick it rivaled a misty rain. It settled on their faces coldly as she veered off the road toward a picnic table with legs set in concrete.

  “Don’t sit down. It’ll just make getting up harder,” she said.

  “We aren’t going to rest here a while?”

  “No, we’re going into the wilderness now. At least a mile up this road and then we’re going to find a thicket or a place to sleep for a few hours.”

  For that he would follow her off the side of the blasted mountain. His feet hurt from boots he wasn’t used to wearing. His legs cramped. His stomach ached with hunger so badly that he had fond memories of a can of Vienna sausages. His mind had gone in circles so fast and furious that he was dizzy trying to make sense of the whole scheme of things. He nodded and kept a steady pace behind her.

  She pointed toward a bunch of little trees. “Looks like a pretty good place right there.”

  He cocked his head to one side. How on earth were they supposed to burrow into something that thick? It was cold and the wind had picked up and it was misting rain again. The little white blossoms on the bushes couldn’t keep him dry and warm.

  A ping, ping noise caused them both to stop and listen intently. She eased up the trail a few more yards and stopped. It was louder, as if the rain was hitting a piece of metal. She followed the sound until right there before them in a copse of overgrown scrub oak no taller than five feet stood an old rusted-out travel trailer. It had been bright silver in its prime but now it blended in with nature; gray like the fog and covered with the same color lichen as the mountain rocks.

  “Well hot dang!” She showed more excitement than he’d ever seen as she pulled out her lock picks again and went to work on the ancient Yale padlock. If she didn’t get it open he’d be willing to attempt prying it open with his teeth.

  The door moaned and groaned when she finally got the lock to open but she didn’t slow down one bit. And she didn’t wait for him or invite him in with her either, but that didn’t keep him outside in the rain.

  He stopped inside the door and took a look. No more than ten feet long and six feet wide, it had a bed on one end, a table with two chairs on the other and a cabinet in between.

  “Shut the door. It’s either an old hunting camp or a bird watcher’s place. I don’t give a dang what it is, it’s warm and we’re borrowing it. Hey, look at this. Running water. Must have a cistern a little higher on the hill. We can clean up, and halle-blasted-lujah, there’s food.”

  “We can’t steal food and …” he began to protest.

  “We won’t be stealing if I leave money and a note.” She took stock of the cans in the cabinet. Spam. Pork-n-beans. Peaches. Pineapple. A virtual gourmet. And the bed actually had a quilt and pillow cases. She’d just found heaven.

  “I get the bed. You can lay claim to all the floor space you want. I’ll even share the covers and toss in a pillow. What would you like to eat?”

  He removed the slicker carefully and laid it over the back of a chair to drip dry. “Anything. I’m starving. Is there really water?”

  “There is. Don’t waste it, though. You wash up first. Look there’s a bar of soap, and here’re towels and wash rags in this drawer. We have hit the mother load. Help yourself to a spit bath while I cook breakfast, then I’m going to clean up and sleep for hours.”

  He ran a sink full of cold water and lathered up a wash cloth. “Did you know this was here?”

  “No, I did not. If it weren’t for the rain hitting the metal, we’d be stuck in a plum thicket that we carved out with a pocket knife. This is nothing short of a pure miracle. I’m having spam and beans and peaches. Here’s the can opener. When you get clean, you can go next.”

  “Did you find a toothbrush?”

  “Hey, I found a miracle. I can’t do magic. Use the wash cloth and scrub your teeth. Didn’t you ever go on a Boy Scout camp out?”

  The rain began in earnest again, this time beating on the tin roof so hard it sounded like marbles hitting it. The wind howled through the trees and Trey shivered thinking about depending on tree limbs and flowers to shield him from the fury.

  “No, never did. I’m stripping down to nothing. You going to watch or …”

  “No thank you,” she said coldly.

  She carried three cans and a fork to the back of the trailer where she sat on the floor facing the wall. No way was she going to sit on the bed and take a chance of spilling anything.

  Chapter Six

  She felt guilty when she awoke. The mattress was lumpy with a spring that had found its way through the ticking but it was softer than the floor where Trey was curled up in a ball and snoring. It didn’t take long to wash the guilt away with unpleasant memories. By the time she pushed the quilt back she was wishing the floor was concrete instead of wood.

  She reached for the sweats she’d hung on the iron foot board. She wiggled into them and pulled the top over her head. Two more days at the most and she’d trade them in for what ever she could find in Mena. Preferably jeans and a T-shirt.

  Trey slept at the foot of the bed and didn’t stir as she got dressed. He looked like a little boy with the patchwork quilt clutched up to his chin. At least he would have if it hadn’t been for a two-day black beard. Roseanna hadn’t thought about packing razors. She’d just brought along the bare necessities. Clothing to keep them warm. Food to get them out of the mountains.

  She sat down on the end of the bed and looked at him for several minutes. An old Conway Twitty tune came to mind. The one where he sang about not being able to see the love of his life … leaving or gone. She hummed the song softly, the words playing through her mind. She agreed with the lyrics saying that she couldn’t see her without him. Sorrow replaced anger as she looked at her ex-husband. In that moment she admitted tha
t she’d been part of their problem. She’d gone into the marriage without looking ahead, without even caring what kind of lifestyle she was embracing. She’d figured that their love could conquer anything. It didn’t because neither of them was willing to compromise. Tears streamed down her face. It was too late now but she wept for what might have been.

  She wiped away the tears but they didn’t stop as another Conway tune began to play in her head. She mouthed the words saying that she wasn’t through loving him yet even though she couldn’t hold him. She straightened the bed, went to the other end of the trailer and sat down at the table. They needed to eat before they left but there was no way she could swallow past the grapefruit sized lump in her throat.

  Confession is good for the soul. Well, these old songs I cut my teeth on sure are a means of confession. I couldn’t hold him but that doesn’t mean I’m through loving him. Yes, he did come and ask for the divorce but I was thinking about doing the same thing. I remember telling Dee and Stella last Christmas at Granny Molly’s funeral that I had a difficult decision to make. Trey just jumped the gun and got out ahead of me with the decision. Life can sure get to be a tangled mess.

  He sat up, stretched and looked down the trailer at her. “Good morning.”

  “It’s not morning. We slept all day and it’s dark. Have something to eat and we’ll be on our way,” she said, surprised that her voice didn’t catch.

  He dressed quickly with his back to her, folded his quilt and laid it on the bed, and carried his boots to the table. “Have you eaten?”

  “Not yet. I’m having a can of pineapple and one of Spam. It’s filling if it’s not my choice of food,” she said.

  “And what’s your choice?” Suddenly he realized he didn’t have any idea what she ate for breakfast. He had always been an early riser but she was already up by the time he made it to the kitchen. He usually had a smoothie made of yogurt and fresh fruit or a bagel with non-fat cream cheese but she’d finished her breakfast long before that.

  “Depends. When we were married, it was a poached egg on toast with a bowl of fruit. On the ranch, it’s sausage gravy, biscuits, two over easy eggs and half a pound of bacon.”

  He raised a dark eyebrow.

  “You asked. I answered even if the answer offends your sense of nutrition,” she smarted off as she opened two cans of food. “I think I’ll tuck a can of Spam into each of our packs. It won’t add that much weight and goodness knows we won’t find another trailer tonight. Miracles don’t happen two nights in a row.” She found a pencil, sharpened it with a kitchen knife and wrote a note on the back of a piece of paper she found in a cabinet drawer.

  We were stranded so we used your trailer and ate some of your food. Hopefully, this will compensate you for everything we ate. Thank you.

  Using a butcher knife for a paper weight, she put the note and a fifty dollar bill on the small table, then she took her food out to the tiny porch to eat. The fog had lifted and the sky was clear. The moon was a big white ball so close that she almost reached up to see if she could touch it. Stars sparkled in the dark sky.

  Half an hour later they were climbing the mountain again. After hours of sleep, it didn’t seem nearly as formidable as it had the night before. A car passed and they slipped to one side into the dense trees. It was a bright red convertible full of young squealing girls and boys.

  Just after midnight they rested on a bench at one of the scenic turnouts. She took out a piece of beef jerky and chewed on it. He ate a granola bar.

  “Did you go back on the police force?” He asked.

  “No, I’m helping Granny Etta run the lodge,” she answered.

  “Did you drive over here? You act like you know the place pretty well.”

  “Daddy brought me.”

  They were silent for a few more minutes, then she stood up and began walking again.

  “We have an old friend in this area. Up by Heavener. Daddy is going to fish a couple of days with him. We borrowed his truck,” she explained.

  Trey fell in beside her instead of following behind.

  “I brought along some false identification and played the part of a waitress who’d overheard a hiker talking about the area. There were papers in the truck to support my story. Daddy and his buddy will come retrieve the truck this morning. If anyone asks about it, like that Pete who’s acting like a park ranger, then they’ll say they loaned the truck to a waitress friend who called them from Poteau. There’ll be a big story about how she hooked up with a fellow and they went to Poteau to a motel.”

  “Would that fellow be me?”

  “I don’t know. You got a thing for waitresses in hot pink hiking clothes?”

  He smiled. “Can’t say I do. It’s a good story and a good plan. If they go hunting the waitress they’ll waste time.”

  “That’s what we hope.”

  “What’s on the other end of this hellacious hike?”

  “There’s a car waiting. Nothing fancy. A generic Ford with a key inside the front hub cap. It’s sitting at the Valero gas station right after we cross the tracks. From there I plan on a night in a motel.”

  “Why a night in a motel? You got a thing for unshaven men in smelly black sweats?”

  “Can’t say I do. I’m afraid they’ll be watching the Tulsa apartment as well as the business. A bullet in the brain isn’t completely out of the question until you’ve talked to your family. We’ll call them from the motel, set up a meeting and they can come get you. I’d planned to drive you home, but now I know what’s going on, I’ll hand you over at the motel and you can go home and do what ever you need to do.”

  “I’m not marrying Laura,” he said.

  “That’s your business, Trey. I’m just doing what Greta asked me to do. That’s rescue you. She’s of the opinion that when you get back you’ll marry Laura and the Fields family will be out of trouble again when Cyrus antes up. Sorry, but he’s not going to do it. Laura may want you, but he doesn’t.”

  “We’re going to lose the company this time.”

  “Probably. How’s that going to affect you?”

  “I’ll have to find a job somewhere else. I’m sure the base operation in Tulsa can be saved. The downsizing will be brutal. We’ll loose the overseas accounts and the California office. Grandfather and Grandmother have retired to Boston. They won’t suffer because Grandmother had money before they married. Dad can run the Tulsa oil business like he did in the beginning. But Greta and I both will have to find jobs.”

  A week ago she would have danced a jig at that idea. Right then she heard the anguish in his voice and wished she could help. “What will you do?”

  “Oh, I could teach in a college with my degree. I could be the CEO of a bank or any other business. The pay will be a drop in the bucket to what I’m used to making but I’ll adapt, I’m sure. I’ve got contacts in several areas. One of my frat brothers is a professor over at Murray State College in Tishomingo, another one is a dean at the University of Oklahoma. And there’s a good friend who is the president of a bank in Ada.”

  “I’m not so sure you’ll survive,” she said.

  “Why’s that?”

  “It’s easy to go from comfortable to richer than Midas. It’s not so easy to go the other way.”

  “And you think I’m not man enough to do it?”

  “Are you?”

  “Watch me.”

  “No thanks. I think I’ll just let you go your merry way and I’ll go mine.”

  “You don’t believe I can survive without my parent’s money, do you?”

  She mulled the idea for several minutes. “I don’t know what you can do, Trey. You’ll have to do what ever it takes, just like I have. What I believe or don’t believe won’t matter anyway, so it’s not worth discussing. I hear a car. Let’s step to the side and let it pass.”

  “Why don’t we try to wave it down and catch a ride to Mena?”

  “You go ahead if you’re feeling lucky. It could be safe. But me, I don’t fee
l that lucky.” She was already making her way into the trees.

  “Do you always think of every angle?” He asked.

  His warm breath kissed the inside of her neck. She shivered. It wasn’t a surprise. He’d always affected her like that. It didn’t mean she could ever live with him again. Not that it was an option anyway.

  The car slowed to a crawl. The windows were down and the man on the passenger side had his head halfway out as he scanned the road ahead.

  “See anything?”

  “Not a thing. I tell you this running up and down, back and forth is crazy. If they were out here at all, it wouldn’t be at night.”

  The car crept by without picking up speed. Roseanna gave it ten minutes before she made her way out to the road again. “They’ll be back in a little while on the other side of the highway. Looks like they’re making passes from the camp ground to Mena and back, trying to find us.”

  “It’s still surreal.”

  “What? That your friend would betray you? Don’t take it personal. Remember what you said on our first date. It’s all about the money.”

  “Are you talking about this situation or our marriage? I didn’t betray you, Roseanna. I just asked for the divorce before you did. It was inevitable. We grew apart rather than together.”

  “Now that I can believe,” she said.

  At the break of dawn she found another trail but it didn’t offer a trailer. There was a thick copse of scrub oak a half mile up the trail that she deemed safe. She threw down her back pack, pulled out the Spam and a granola bar and ate. Using the backpack for a pillow she worked her way back into the trees and promptly went to sleep just as the sun peeked over the top of the mountain. He watched her for a while, remembering their first date when he’d been so enamored with those long legs and her smile. Well, that was water under the bridge, as the old adage went. It had been a good four weeks of frantic courtship, but a lousy four years of marriage. The physical attraction never died, but that alone didn’t make a marriage. He fell asleep beside her and dreamed of men in black cars who wanted him dead.