One Man's Island

by Thomas J. Wolfenden

“Now you go and saw off about a foot of the top, and we’ve got an instant mini-tree!”

  She did as she was told, lopping off the very top of the fir in a few short strokes of the saw. She picked it up from where it had fallen on the snow, and shook the snow off.

  “Perfect! It really does look like a mini-tree,” she said.

  “Okay, let’s get back home before it gets dark on us,” he said.

  He figured he could have probably sawed the top off himself, but wanted Robyn to feel like she was helping, since she came all this way in the freezing cold, without a whimper of complaint. He felt her tiny hand find his, and her fingers interlaced his and held tight. He looked down to see her admiring face beaming back at him. They walked together in the silence of the woods back to their tiny homestead. Tim sawed a thin slice off the stump to make it even, then used a cordless drill to drill a small, square piece of plywood to the bottom, giving the tiny tree a firm base.

  “Fantastic!” Robyn said when he held it up for her inspection. She took it from him and immediately placed it on the dinette table near the window.

  “Just where I reckoned it would look nice too!”

  Tim put the tools away and removed his jacket, then sat down at the table. He unbuttoned several of the buttons on his checked shirt. He was soaked with sweat, and felt very warm.

  “Are you hot?” he asked.

  “No. Is anything wrong?” Robyn asked.

  “No, I’m just a little warm. Why don’t you use the rest of the tinsel and garland to decorate our Hanukkah bush and I’ll start to get supper ready,” he said.

  She laughed at him calling their little tree that, but busied herself with the decorations. He put on some Christmas music again, and pulled a whole rabbit out of the fridge, where he’d put it to thaw the day before. If there was one thing they had plenty of, it was rabbit. It was just the right size for the camper’s tiny oven, so he got the small roasting pan out and started to prepare the meal. When Robyn was done she called to him and presented her handiwork.

  “That looks great! I’ve never had a nicer tree.”

  “Thank you,” she said with a tiny curtsy.

  “Why don’t you head off into the shower now, and get washed up. This will be a few hours yet.”

  “Okay,” she said, and bounded past him carrying a towel, and a pair of flannel PJ’s he’d found on one of his forays. As soon as he heard the door to the bathroom shut and the water turn on, he quickly leapt out the front door and over to the truck. As fast as he could, he grabbed the carbine, the magazines, the ammo, the tape and the wrapping paper. He got it all back into his bed and under his blankets before Robyn exited the shower. He sat down with a hot cup of cocoa at the dinette, pretty proud of himself for being able to do that quickly enough. He’d wrap everything up after she went to sleep. Just then the shower door opened, and he looked up. Her wet head appeared in the door and he smiled.

  “Did you go outside?”

  “No,” he said, with what he hoped was an innocent look on his face.

  “I thought I heard the door open.”

  “Nah, just me making some cocoa is all.”

  “Hmmmph!” she grunted, and shut the door. He had to laugh. He really couldn’t get anything by her. When she came out again, she was dried off and dressed in her PJ’s. She curled up at the dinette opposite, and Tim made her a fresh mug of cocoa. When he was again seated, he looked right at her, and very seriously said, “You know we’ll have to go to bed really early tonight, so Santa Louse can come.”

  “Don’t you mean Santa Claus?” she giggled.

  “Oh no, Santa Claus is old hat. He’s for little kids. Santa Louse is another guy. He wears an old Army paratrooper suit from World War II, has a five o’clock shadow, and smokes Cuban cigars. He flies all over the world on Christmas Eve, giving presents to all the good boy and girl soldiers!”

  “C’mon! I am thirteen! I don’t believe in that stuff anymore!”

  “It’s true! I shit you not!”

  “You’re making this up!”

  “He flies around the whole world in a tricked-out M2 Bradley, pulled by eight Army mules. And besides giving out goodies, he provides covering and defilade fire to any dogfaces that need it. It really is a sight to behold, I’m here to tell you!”

  “You’re full of shit, Sar’ Major!”

  “Oh! Where did you ever learn such language, young lady?”

  “I learned it from you!”

  “Fair enough!” he said with a wink. He then got serious. “Robyn. I know we’re okay here, but it’s getting kind of cramped, and I was thinking over the last few days, about going someplace else, maybe finding a bigger camper too, so we’d have more space. What do you think of that?”

  “Do you mean right now?”

  “No, not now, in the spring when the weather clears up.”

  “We can go someplace warmer, maybe?” she asked with a shy smile.

  “Anyplace you’d like, as long as we can drive there. I’ll let you think it over during the winter, and then I’ll let you decide where when the time comes.”

  “Okay,” she said, looking down at her cup, deep in thought. They sat like that for a while, not saying anything, and Tim stared out the window at the gathering dusk. He saw a few snowflakes, and he thought of Christmases past. As far back as he could remember, none were all that great. He’d have to really dredge the depths of his memories to find a really pleasant one, and they were all when he was younger than Robyn. He got up and rinsed his cup in the sink, then opened the oven to check the roast. A wonderful aroma escaped, and made him smile. He looked over at Robyn, who was beaming from ear to ear. He’d thought about a Christmas goose, but by the time the thought crossed his mind, all the Canada geese had flown south for the winter. He’d have to plan better next year.

  “Dinner will probably be in another half hour or so. You decide the sides.”

  Robyn scrambled out of her seat, going to the cupboard. “How about powdered mashed potatoes, creamed corn and carrots?”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” he said, basting the rabbit with the juices in the pan. He stood, feeling slightly dizzy again, and had to steady himself on the refrigerator. When he regained his equilibrium, he quickly glanced over to Robyn. She hadn’t seen it.

  “Do you want a beer, Tim?”

  “Nah, I’m okay.”

  “Can I?”

  “No!”

  “You can’t blame a girl for trying!” she giggled.

  “How old are you again?”

  “I’ll be fourteen tomorrow!” she said proudly.

  “You’re a Christmas baby? Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have baked a cake and hired a band and all that good shit.”

  “I never really tell anyone when my birthday is, or used to tell them, anyway,” she said, her face growing dark.

  “Why’s that?”

  She sat down at the dinette and looked down at her hands. “Every time someone would find out when my birthday was, the first thing they’d start off on was how I must get spoiled. How I must get double presents.”

  Tim stopped what he was doing and sat down opposite her.

  “But the thing was, me and Mama was so poor, some Christmases she wouldn’t have enough money for presents at all, and I could hear her at night, crying over it. I really began to hate Christmas because of it.”

  “Robyn, you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Tim said, reaching out and taking her hand.

  “Mama always said I was the best Christmas present she ever got.” And then the tears that had begun to flow turned into huge sobs. Tim stood up and pulled her to him, hugging her tightly.

  “Your mama was right. And now you’re my best Christmas present ever too!”

  Her face was buried in his chest, and the sobs faded to sniffles, but she still held him tight. He realized she had grown probably two inches in the last few months, and had put on about ten pounds. He was glad they had got some bigger sized clothes at Walmart, as
she was now growing like a weed. She was still built like a girl much younger, and he put down her lack of physical maturity and arrested development to a life of abject poverty in Appalachia. She hadn’t once asked about feminine hygiene products, but she would soon, and that scared the hell out of him. He knew the mechanics, but absolutely dreaded the time when she might need to talk about anything in that department. He knew such a time should be coming around soon. He hoped her mother had at least filled her in on the basics.

  “Listen, you and I are the richest people in the world now, because we’ve got each other, and nothing is going to change that. We can’t change the past, only remember and learn from our mistakes. The only thing we have control over is the future. It’s why your mama wanted you to go into the Army and get an education. She wanted a better life for you. I know this isn’t exactly what she had in mind, but I’m sure she’s very happy, knowing you’re safe and eating well. I don’t know what the future holds for us, baby, but what I do know is, I’m going to do everything I can to make sure we both have a good life.”

  “It’s not fair,” Robyn said into his chest.

  “I know. Life is never fair. We just have to take what we can get out of it, and try to make every day just a little bit better.”

  “I’ll try,” she said.

  “Good. That’s all I ask is to just try. Now let’s eat!” he said, pulling away from her and sitting down at the dinette. They piled their plates up with mashed potatoes, veggies and rabbit, and ate like it was going out of style. When Tim was finished, he pushed his plate away and let out a huge belch, which made Robyn laugh.

  “Excuse yourself!” she said with mock disgust.

  “Why? It was a compliment to the chef!” he winked.

  He looked over at Robyn and smiled. She really was turning into a beautiful young lady, a far cry from the dirty, malnourished, skinny waif he’d met several months ago. He still had no idea how to raise a child, especially a girl, but he thought he was doing an okay job. He was so used to the kids in his Army unit that even though he still thought of them as his kids, he could abuse the shit out of them with streams of expletives that would make a sailor blush. He curbed his language as much as possible around Robyn, but still things would come out from time to time. She just picked up on them and would use them also, much to his chagrin. One time several weeks back after making a most improbable shot at a squirrel, he asked her how she did it, and she replied, matter-of-factly ‘oh it was easy. I just held off a red cunthair…’ and that made him laugh.

  After supper, he looked at his watch and noted the time.

  “Well, it’s almost twenty hundred hours. Time for bed or Santa Louse won’t come!”

  “Yeah, I bet!”

  “Honest! Get to bed or he won’t come.”

  Robyn sighed deeply, rolled her eyes theatrically and got ready for bed. She climbed under the covers, and through sleepy eyes, looked at Tim, Bad Bear clutched tightly under her chin.

  “Good night, darlin’,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “Sleep tight.”

  “Good night, Tim,” she said with a yawn. He turned her light off, and went to turn away when she called to him. “Tim?” she said in a soft voice.

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Aren’t you going to turn off the Christmas lights?”

  “Nah, you got to leave them on all night tonight, or Santa Louse won’t be able to find our AO!”

  “Ay Oh?”

  “Area of Operations. This is our ‘AO’. Although he’s one tough fucker, Santa Louse never went to Ranger School, so he can’t find folks’ AOs really well. That’s the reason why we’ve got to leave the lights on for him.”

  He walked to the galley, where he poured himself a glass of water and took two extra-strength Tylenol. His body aches were getting worse, and he could feel a headache coming on. He listened for Robyn’s breathing to even out. Once he knew she was asleep, he ducked into his sleeping area in the rear and pulled the privacy curtain. Gathering up all his goodies, he made quick work of wrapping everything up, trying to be as quiet as possible, even though the kid slept like a rock most nights and probably wouldn’t wake up through a mortar barrage. When he was done, he peered around the curtain conspiratorially, looking to see if she was awake. In the dim light of the outside red and green lights coming through the windows, he could see her still lying in the same position, and could hear her tiny little snores. Feeling safe to do so, he gathered up the festively wrapped gifts and tiptoed out, placing them on her side of the dinette bench seat. Giving her one final glance, he grabbed his coat and went outside to have a final smoke for the night. Standing there in the snow, he looked around. It was still snowing, and big fluffy flakes were wafting down at a great rate. There was absolutely no wind, and he always was amazed by how quiet everything was when it snowed. In the distance, he could barely make out the sound, but did hear the new generator chugging away satisfactorily. He lit a cigarette, and thought about the last year. Before The Event, he’d just been marking time throughout his life, going through the motions; going to picnics and barbeques, weekends at the Jersey Shore, a vacation away someplace a time or two. None of it meant anything. This was real. This was tangible. This was important. Before he’d stumbled upon Robyn, his life didn’t mean anything. Now that sweet kid sleeping not ten feet away from where he stood meant the world to him. He had an obligation to help her along, and shape her into someone. Someone that maybe someday could make a difference. Maybe that’s what his brother meant so many months ago. He finished his smoke, and chinked out the ember, pocketing the butt. He coughed once, then twice, a little harder the last time, and brought up some phlegm, which he spat out onto the freshly fallen snow. Even in the dim light of the string of Christmas lights, he could see it didn’t look right. It had a yellowish tint.

  That isn’t good, he thought.

  Going back inside, he checked on Robyn again, and satisfied she was still soundly asleep, he went to the tiny bathroom to brush his teeth. He coughed again, brought up more phlegm, and he spit in into the basin. It had a dark yellow tint that was definitely un-good. He’d better start taking a vitamin C supplement or something. He couldn’t afford to get sick. Maybe a good night’s sleep was all he needed. They had been working pretty hard getting prepared for winter, and maybe he was just run down. A few days of lounging in bed would probably do him a world of good. Besides, he’d be forty-eight this year, and he wasn’t getting any younger. There was no sense trying to run around like he was still a twenty year old. He crawled into bed, and sleep came immediately.

  When he was stirred from his sleep the next morning by a happy and cheerful Robyn, it felt as though he hadn’t slept at all.

  “Wake up, Tim! It’s Christmas! Merry Christmas!”

  “Okay, okay,” he groaned. “Let me get up and get some coffee.”

  “I already have it made.”

  “Good. I need some,” he said, as he sat up in his bed, and groaned again. He felt like he’d been placed into a steel drum and rolled down a boulder-strewn hillside. Every bone in his body ached. As quickly as the pain would allow, he got dressed and stepped out to see a beaming Robyn standing there still wearing his t-shirt. She was holding a steaming mug of coffee out to him. He took it, and noticed a box about ten inches square and beautifully wrapped in red paper sitting on his seat at the dinette table.

  “I see Santa Louse has been here. Stealthy fucker, isn’t he?”

  She just giggled and said, “Sit down, Tim. There’s a present there for you!”

  “I see that,” he said. He took a seat, and glanced out the window. It was snowing even harder now, and he could barely see halfway across the meadow. Looking back at the box, he picked it up, surprised at the weight of it. He looked over at Robyn curiously.

  “Go ahead! Open it!”

  “Why don’t you open your presents first.”

  “I can wait. I hope you like it, Tim.”

  Tim relented, tearing off the
red paper and bow, and placed in on the seat next to him. That revealed a plain cardboard box, which he opened. Reaching in, he pulled out a quart mason jar of clear liquid and held it up. The box contained three more exactly like it.

  “Now where did you find these?”

  “Remember that day about a month ago when I went hunting by myself?”

  “Yeah, you went to shoot a rabbit or two. As I recall you came back empty-handed.”

  “Well, I walked through the woods and came out on this road about two miles from here. There was this little general store, and I broke in the way you taught me. There wasn’t much in there. Most of the stuff was gnawed through by mice already, but I found a whole bunch of that in the back. I thought you might like a little with supper once in a while.”

  Great, he thought, I’m teaching her how to be a B&E artist. But he did have to smile. Never in his life had he been given a whole gallon of100% pure West Virginia corn liquor moonshine by a thirteen year old. Fourteen today, he quickly corrected himself.

  “I love it, baby. Thank you,” he said, putting the jar back in the box and placing it on his seat. “Now you open yours and see what Santa Louse brought you!”

  She quickly tore into the paper and held up the carbine.

  “Oh wow! This is so cool!”

  “It’s a World War II era M1carbine paratrooper model. I figured you were ready to graduate to something a little bigger than the .22!”

  “Tim, it’s perfect! I love it!” she exclaimed excitedly, and went on to unwrap her other gifts, the ammo and magazines. It was a far cry from a Barbie Doll, and a shitload more practical, considering their situation. He then went on to teach her how to break it down for cleaning and reassemble it. That was fairly easy, because there were few moving parts. It really was a rather simple rifle to use and maintain. They made toast with margarine and strawberry preserves for breakfast and as they ate, Tim thought of the stollen his father would bring home from the German bakery on his way back from Christmas morning mass. He could still smell the fluffy pastry and wondered if he’d eat anything as delicious as that ever again. When they were done, Robyn got up and went to Tim, hugged him and gave him a big kiss.