The Kingdom Land

by Bart Tuma

  Erik pulled a single sheet over himself as he lay in the hot evening and tried to sleep. He should have fallen asleep out of sheer exhaustion, but it would be weeks until he slept soundly again.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  This land was bone dry after years of drought. It would take more than one rainstorm to make this land look as the land should look. One rainstorm would turn the dust to lifeless mud for a short time. A few surface weeds with shallow roots would grow only to once again become victims of the sun. The moisture would quickly be zapped from the topsoil. Nothing would reach the hard dry ground beneath where only the longer roots would reach and the reserves of water usually waited.

  After a few rain showers, a few buds and even leaves would come to the willow brush next to the Cooper’s coulee. In false hope the bushes would be hoaxed into the fact that rains meant spring, and their roots would live by the lie for a time. But the other vegetation, without the benefit of the willow’s roots and coulee runoff, would exhaust themselves with the sudden growth. They would not be able to sustain themselves once the cloud cover gave way to the sun.

  Only a long rainfall measuring inches and days would bring a noticeable change to the land, and even that would be minimal. The rain in that type of storm would come in sheets. Its pellets would pierce the dust, driving splashes inches into the air. It would keep coming until the subsoil had had enough and then it would begin to make ravines in the topsoil.

  The water would head to the coulee in whatever fashion it chose, being stopped only by boulders and occasion ditched roads. It would carry with it topsoil that was needed to grow the wheat, not to line the bottom of coulees. The contoured strips the farmer designed in his field were for protection from the winds that were always present, not the rain that was a stranger. However, any farmer would gladly exchange this loss of topsoil for relief from the drought. That rain would not mean a bumper crop. For that year it would mean there would be a harvest and a chance to sleep with the smell of growing freshness in the night air.

  It was a shame to think that the hard thunderstorms almost brought more destruction to the land than help. Everyone would live on the euphoria that the rains had come, but such sudden, hard rains actually destroyed the land. Each such storm would take from topsoil already thin from the constant winds and make it more vulnerable to the next dry spell. Beneath the topsoil there was nothing to maintain growth but hardpan dirt. The farms that held the best farming land were those with few exposed hills. Their farms contained land that had gathered the deposits of the glaciers as they moved and dissolved in the plains. The glacier soil was rich with life.

  The rains were the crucial element on the Great Plains, but without the topsoil the water did little good. The farmer would attempt to fertilize his crops to replenish the soils, but only native topsoil would guarantee a harvest. The fertilizers were expensive and could burn the crops if the sun came too quickly. So the rains were wanted and needed, but they came with a price if they struck the land and then quickly left.

  This was the land that Henry Cooper had inherited from his father, and that Erik Winters worked. The Coopers believed the promise of restoring this land. Erik only worked the land. It’s future wasn’t his concern.

  Erik couldn’t leave his dreams of Laura. From time to time a certain smell or touch or a certain place brought her back. Laura was his future and his family and everything his life would ever need. He had only known Laura for a short time, but he had held dreams of her image for years. Laura was the face that made those dreams within grasp, and it felt like Erik had known Laura since the first time he had dreamt of someone needing him and wanting him and loving him. Then she, too, was gone.

  No one else couldknow what Laura meant, or how important were those precious moments that Erik held. Many days his pain was so sharp he wished he had never met her.

  His aunt and uncle did everything to make sure he wouldn’t retreat to the bunkhouse after Laura died, but they failed. Christ was near in his thoughts and Christ would be his only companion.

  Erik had tried to get involved with the New Life Center. At first people gave a warm reception for the new brother in their midst. After a time, Erik became just another parishioner and people’s comments turned to questions of why he was such a loner if Christ had truly entered his life. It was almost being like the new kid in school that all the girls want to know on the first day, but forget by the first weekend.

  A few people in the church started to question whether Erik really was any different or if his commitment to Christ was only on a surface level. A few parishioners gossiped that maybe Erik had made up the story merely to be accepted and be thought of as normal. They questioned how normal he could be after his parents had left him as they did, and him still living alone in that stale bunkhouse. They reasoned that if he had changed, he would have moved from that bunkhouse and joined the Coopers in their house. Not all the people carried these rumors. Still, there was enough talk by a few members who loved to create excitement to hide their boredom of Fairfield. Erik heard some of the comments. Some of the reports came from church members themselves who told Erik about the stories to protect him. He didn’t know if they really did this to warn him or because they wanted to be part of the excitement and wanted to see how he would respond to the news. In this fashion, the cycle of gossip could be complete.

  He knew he would never be on one of them. Years earlier, Erik accepted his place as an outcast and maybe even preferred it. He never wanted to be one of them. Now it gave him a sense that maybe things would never be different. He trusted God, but the people of Fairfield weren’t so forgiving. John had told Erik earlier to keep it simple and simply love God and his neighbor. Now Erik began to realize how complex a task that would be.

  During the two years after Laura’s death, he also got involved with another girl. It was a natural progress if you were single and part of the church to date someone from the church. It was expected that a man in his mid-twenties would be looking to start a family. Of course Erik wanted a family, but with the people of Fairfield it was viewed as a task rather than a desire. Erik could sense it even with the ladies his age and it seemed to warp the whole idea of a family.

  The girl he met was named Laurie. It was more than chance that he was attracted to someone with a name so close to Laura. Occasionally, he would even slip and call Laurie “Laura”, but he would always cover it up as if he had merely mispronounced Laurie’s name. Very few people remembered Laura so he was safe.

  But Laurie would never be Laura. Laurie lacked something. She was very nice and very pleasant, but there was something missing. Excitement might be the word Erik would have used to explain the difference between the two girls. Maybe a better word would be adventure. There was no adventure with Laurie, only life in Fairfield.

  Laurie had been part of the church and a Christian for as long as she could remember. She had never smoked, nor drank, and would never think of swearing. Erik didn’t find this a fault, but Laurie had just never done anything. She had never done anything good or bad. She was just part of Fairfield, as plain as the plains themselves.

  When a person looked north of Fairfield, he would see neat strips of fields uniformly cut into the earth. These fields were patterned without break or alteration. The same was true of Laurie. Her life was a perfect pattern. Her clothes were perfectly pressed, her manners, her conversation, even her fingernails that she polished every morning were made to be perfectly uniform. At times Erik almost hated to stand next to her in fear that his imperfections would be even more obvious. Certainly it wasn’t a fault that Laurie had lived such a Christian life her whole life. Erik wished that he could have known and followed Christ and missed all the despair that had been his companion without Christ. It wasn’t a fault in Laurie, but it was a difference from Erik.

  In many ways they were an odd couple, but a couple by necessity. There were only a small number of unmarried Christian women in a town the size of Fairfield. Certainly Erik wou
ld be expected to date a Christian. For Laurie, there were even fewer Christian men, and she could not fathom being with an unbeliever. Erik knew that if he wanted to be involved with a girl, it would be Laurie.

  Erik actually had few real “dates” with Laurie. He remembered once going to have dinner and meet her parents at Laurie’s house. In the best of situations it was hard for anyone to feel examined by his girlfriend’s parents and that seemed to be the purpose of the first dinner. To Erik, the ritual was unbearable.

  As he pulled in front of the house he could already feel his throat tighten with nerves. As he walked up the steps he wondered if he could merely bow out by saying he was sick. That statement seemed more reality than excuse as he knocked on the door.

  Laurie and her mother, Elizabeth, met Erik at the door. Of course, he had met the Simonsons before in church, but he had never really had a conversation with them. There had been the courtesy “hellos”, but no long conversations. Now he visited in their home, but he felt more a stranger than a guest. As he looked around, his first thought was he didn’t know there were houses like this in Fairfield. On the outside all the wood framed houses were very similar. As he entered the Simonson’s home, the fine décor made him feel like he should be the delivery boy rather than Laurie’s friend.

  The dining room was an actual dining room and not just an extension of the kitchen, as in the Coopers’ farm. A large China closet showed colors of fine polished wood and Erik hoped he did not need to eat off one of the fine plates it housed. He knew he would break it if he touched one. A chandelier drew Erik’s eyes to the center of the room and its warm tones were accented with lit candles on the table. The room was perfect and beautiful. Erik knew he wasn’t either.

  The conversation started fine as Laurie’s dad, Jake, asked Erik about the farm and his aunt and uncle. Erik’s responses were short and only filled in the needed information. A witness at a trial is asked only to respond to the question and to not add any unnecessary facts. That evening Erik felt very much as one on the witness stand.

  Because Erik’s answers were so quick and to the point, the round of conversation was over in a short time. Erik searched his mind to add a comment to carry his end of the conversation. He made several attempts to ask Mr. Simonson about how his auto dealership was doing. Both men spoke a different language so the conversation was short. They both spoke English, but their lives were so dissimilar that a common interest could not be found.

  The attempts soon failed and the conversation switched to include only the family and Erik was certainly not a part of this family. It was as if the four people were playing double’s tennis, but Erik never was given an opportunity to move his racket, let alone return the ball.

  By the time Mrs. Simonson had removed the soup bowls and brought to the table a store bought ham, Erik knew he was doomed to silence. He realized there was no way he could add to the comments. By then Mr. Simonson had attempted to bring Erik into the talk by asking him more questions. Erik stumbled on even a simple sentence and he resigned himself to looking busy with the food. He could almost literally feel himself pulling away from the table and the conversation.

  The high point of the evening was the relief when it ended. The parents were genuinely warm and appreciative of Erik coming. Laurie walked Erik to the gate of their house, and thanked him for coming. Erik knew he would never be invited back and he did not regret that thought.

  It wasn’t that the Simonsons weren’t fine, warm people. It wasn’t that Laurie was some lifeless figure without care or emotion. She was very good towards Erik. At the same time she had little in common with Erik except for Christ and the need for companionship. This fact was very obvious whenever they were alone. They had little to talk about and the air would soon become thick with the tension of silence. Erik would attempt to come up with something to say, but usually what he had to offer came out as only silly babble. It was obvious he was trying too hard.

  As with any man of his age, Erik wanted to be with someone. Laurie was someone, but her patterned life didn’t allow for Erik. Erik finally found himself turning back to his dreams. They were not dreams of the barmaid, but of some girl that he had not yet met who could share his life with him. He dreamt of someone who would go fishing with him at the beaver dams as he had with his father and who would make conversation important and easy.

  Soon he began to hold to these dreams more than to Laurie. Since there was so little to hold them together, they simply drifted apart. There were no arguments nor fights. They simply spent less and less time together until they never saw each other except at church services. They both knew after the dinner this would happen. Both continued on with their expected roles. It seemed Laurie was as willing to let the relationship go as Erik.

  Erik wasn’t sad to see the relationship end. He sensed he was cheating on Laura’s memory when he dated Laurie. He knew it was silly to think such thoughts, and he knew if it continued he would never have a chance for a real relationship. His memories for Laura were strong enough that he didn’t know what harm they might bring. Laura would never be replaced.

  And the other people’s gossip and whispers grew louder.

  Erik spent less and less time with people until he finally began to avoid them as he had in the past. There was little room for an unmarried man in the social circles of the church in a town like Fairfield. That fact was obvious and Erik knew it by the stares. He didn’t spend time with non-Christian acquaintances anymore since he had even less in common with them. It would have been easier if he had had friends before, but he hadn’t. It left little place for Erik.

  Erik didn’t help this situation either. He still didn’t feel at ease with people. He remembered all too well the abandonment he had received. He found himself talking to Christ in the solitude of his bunkhouse room, but no one else.

  Erik, after these two years had passed, no longer doubted Christ’s reality or love. His Bible studies and time alone had cemented that relationship to a level he had never thought possible. Those times alone with Christ were more precious than any daydream he had in the past. At the same time there was a gnawing reality. He had begun his Christian walk dedicated to healing his relationship with other people. That part of his life was still very much incomplete. He had the sense to know that his faith meant little unless it also meant being part of other people’s lives. That had never been easy for Erik and it was no easier now.

  There had been the rains of Christ’s blessing, but Erik wondered if too if he had lost much of his heart to the past floods of despair.

  There had been a time when he reached out, but then those whispers started and Laurie left, and he slowly felt himself slipping back to his solitude. It was almost a literal sense of slipping down a mountain some days as he fought his loneliness. It was like a man desperately thirsty in the desert coming to a pond. It only made sense to drink from that pond, but what if the water was bad? What if it was worse than the thirst itself? That man would have to decide if it was better to be thirsty or to take a chance on the water. Erik could not find the strength within himself after these years to trust people and to drink of their companionship. His fear of being abandoned again was too great.

  Certainly, the Coopers had attempted to bring him into their family and show their love to Erik. At the same time they all knew, including Erik, that too much had happened in the past to simply come together as a real family. His aunt and uncle tried to have him move back to the house. They thought this would be a step to being a family and bring normalcy for Erik. Erik would not accept and always had some excuse to not insult them. It would be harder for Erik to allow the Coopers parenthood. He still wanted to be a Winters and he still wanted his solitude.

  Erik knew they loved him. He had been forced on them. They didn’t ask for him. He was left there by Children’s Services. Accepting someone from Children’s Services and loving them were two different things. No amount of words or explanation would change that fact. Erik was just different fro
m them. Maybe I’m different from everyone, Erik thought, sometimes aloud.

  Besides, he told himself that he wasn’t like these people; not like any of them. They were Fairfield, and nothing good was ever in Fairfield. Even though Erik had left the mountains to return to the prairie, he knew he was not part of that town. He was going to leave Fairfield someday and become someone. Erik realized his inability to be part of other people’s lives was a problem he needed to solve. He knew the fact, but he never acknowledged just how much it kept him from the healing the Lord had to offer.

  It was an odd sound to hear at the beginning of July. Erik lay in his bed just before the alarm usually rang and he began to hear the distinct sound of raindrops hitting the metal roof. It began as a few faint taps that Erik didn’t know if he heard or imagined. Then the taps came steady and pronounced. Finally a loud clap of thunder left no doubt that a summer rainstorm had visited the prairie land. It was an unusual sound because the taps were constant with a soothing rhythm. This was the sound of an April storm that was so welcomed by the farmers as it built a foundation for the coming year. This was July and it seldom rained in July, and when it did, it was violent and quick, not the gentle tapping he heard with this rain.

  It was a pleasant sound to Erik. It had been a while since he had heard rain, and ever since he could remember that sound always brought laughter to the Cooper farm. He wanted to lie in bed as long as possible and just hear those drops tap the ceiling and bring life to the farm.

  The long drought spell had broken last year and the crops were respectable. A farm that had kept the fields plowed and ready for rain had broke even, and the banks readily gave out loans for next years seed and diesel. This spring’s rain was widespread with the fields starting strong. With this rain, there might even be hope for a bumper crop. Erik did not take pleasure in this land, as did Uncle Henry. His whole life did not revolve around the success or failure of the wheat. At the same time, there was no escaping the pleasant sound of life being brought to the land and the harvest it would mean. Erik didn’t participate in this joy as completely as his aunt and uncle, but the tap, tap, tap, tap sound of rain hitting the bunkhouse tin roof still made him feel warm and secure as he heard it. It was a pity he couldn’t fully participate in the joy of the rain, but still it brought warmth to his heart.