Johnson, C. W.

by The Son of Man 2, Elders of Zion

  Stacey had been right. If he went back, his boys and the others would likely die. It was getting late and the night promised a hard freeze. The way back to Parktown had been completely blocked. The only possible way was forward. What a dark place God had put them in, he thought.

  Within the last half hour or so… off and on… he had been feeling confused; something else to worry about.

  Maria had been trudging along behind him, doggedly pulling the sled bearing Joshua in his makeshift car seat. The two boys had taken up positions at her sides. Stacey followed close behind.

  The formation had been created to protect the littlest one after the last appearance of the wolves. It seemed necessary at the time, but now, their collective expressions showed that it had become something else. Fear, pain, numbing cold and despair had coalesced into a strange new state of mind where simply moving forward was enough. They no longer thought of the wolves or the snow or even getting out. Forward motion was enough.

  From time to time Chad would turn to look back at his youngest son Sage, trudging ever forward, his face blank and expressionless. He was so little - how could he keep going? Both boys knew their mother was gone, yet they moved forward. The tears had been spent a good time ago, left behind in the wolf trail. Now they just walked.

  Bouts of confusion, blind fear, pressing responsibility and despair filled Chad’s thoughts as he trudged. They should have been in Midway by now. It had been a long time since he’d seen any hint of the old familiar landmarks.

  The freak storm had changed the landscape. It was almost laughable: They were following a path a pack of wolves had made in the snow. They had no choice. Out there, the snow was approaching waist-high. They could be anywhere on this God-forsaken mountain.

  In the back of his mind a recurring warning flashed like a beacon: wolves don’t leave forested mountain ranges, they go into forested mountain ranges. It only makes sense. Still, their path seemed to be taking them steadily downwards. Who knew; maybe they would stumble across a landmark.

  As he walked, he slowly became aware that the cold wasn’t bothering him the way it had been. He lingered on the thought, gazed at it from different angles. It felt good to ponder…

  What? To ponderrrr. He couldn’t remember what it was he was pondering….

  Suddenly he found himself back on the path. I’m tripping, he said to himself. It reminded him of his days in the military;.the first time he smoked marijuana.

  For some time now, he had been fighting off the impulse to simply lie down in the snow… go to sleep. He was so tired of worrying, walking, stumbling forward… ever forward. He was struck by the odd thought that he wasn’t sure why he was worrying, walking, stumbling forward.

  The path began to gradually veer to the right. Chad didn’t really want to, but he followed it anyway. He had to…or did he? He couldn’t remember. He found himself looking down a beautiful snow covered ravine into a clearing.

  He stopped and the group numbly stopped behind him. Chad stared down the ravine for a time, looking at the strange men below. A Jeep or…something…Humvee was down there too. They were in the flowers, no… in the field next to his house playing like he used to when he was a child. He turned and noticed little Sage had curled up in the snow. Why didn’t he think of that? Maria had seated herself next to the sled and was staring blankly out into the forest. Stacey seemed to be preoccupied by something on her coat sleeve. Chad’s older son Tim moved despondently towards his little brother, slowed to a stop and sat down.

  Chad looked around him. The white gleaming snow looked so soft; almost like whipped cream. His mother used to put whipped cream on his pumpkin pie. He decided to lie down and think about pumpkin pie…Why hadn’t he simply done this before? He rolled to one knee and flopped to his side. It was so wonderful lying there. He smiled, cuddling the soft snow, pulling it close to his face. This is like coming home, he thought. Why hadn’t he done this before? Within moments he drifted off into sweet oblivion.

  ~~~

  The photographer awoke with a jerk. He heard something. He was sure of it; something…familiar. He sat upright in his bed. A soft blue light was pouring into the hall just adjacent to his bedroom. The light was coming from his den. He frowned, realizing he had left the computer on. His monitor had kicked off and turned itself back on, that’s all.

  He was easily startled these days, ever since he had returned from the Ricky settlements of old America. He turned, looked at his wife who was still sleeping soundly, quietly kicked his covers off and toddled sleepily towards the blue light.

  He had scarcely reached the bedroom door when he became aware of an odd sound coming from his den; like tree limbs scratching against a window screen. He stopped and backed away before gingerly continuing down the hall.

  He reached the door to his den and peeked around the corner. Without warning his computer sprang to life. The sound startled him. He immediately recognized the familiar sound as that of his computer operating system melodically announcing a fresh re-boot.

  He shook his head. Stop it! he told himself. He ran his fingers through his hair and checked once more to be certain his wife was still asleep. Power must have gone off in the night, he consoled himself. It came back on and re-booted itself, that’s all.

  He pushed off the wall and moved into the den.

  "What the…," he mumbled out loud. A strange new desktop image glowed from his computer screen. A familiar picture he didn’t care to think about. A picture of a beautiful Ricky girl, her emerald green eyes looking warily back at him through jet black hair beneath the hood of a heavy fur lined winter coat.

  The sound returned… scratching on a screen. He moved forward trying to get a fix on the strange sound. As he approached, the sound seemed to get louder… until he realized he was hearing words…like crowds of people…melodic, chanting words, sending chills crawling up his arms.

  “Hail Mother, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.”

  He stood staring at the screen, at the girl who had vexed his dreams since that day on the mountain. The sound was getting louder, the familiar sounding multitude of voices unmistakable…stronger now.

  “Hail Mother, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.”

  He pushed forward, trying to trip the computer switch. Trying to turn the cursed thing off when suddenly the angelic face turned to something else. The smell of putrefying meat filled his nostrils. The undulating face of a demented child, gray and shrunken like a mummified corpse, filled his screen.

  “Hail Mother, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.”

  The face began speaking, the sound of it chorused by the surreal chanting crowd, swelling in and out of focus, its lips knotted in an all too familiar snarl.

  “Adam, thou wisp of root. Thou hast conceived what it is ye seeketh. Thou shalt now reveal it, for the fullness of time is at hand.”

  “Hail Mother, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.”

  ~~~

  Shrill screaming wrenched the wife out of deep sleep. She tossed the covers off and bounded out of her bed, fumbled to find the light switch and finally turn the light on.

  The photographer was lying fetal; his nightshirt pulled up in knotted fists and pushed into his gnashing teeth. She recoiled in horror, then charily made her way to his side. "Max," she said. "Max, what’s the matter?"

  The photographer released his night shirt and groped for her sleeve. He pulled her down towards him, causing her to yelp. "The computer," he wailed. "Turn it off… turn it off!"

  She glanced up at the dark screen. "What computer?"

  He pointed into the den. "The computer! Turn it off!"

  She spun in the direction of the den and returned her attention to him. "It’s off," she said. "Max, the computer
is off."

  The photographer seemed to relax. He slowly sat up. A strange look of contentment filled his face.

  His wife stood and slowly backed away. "Max, you’re frightening me."

  "It’s quite alright," the photographer said, smiling. "I finally realize what this is all about. It’s all to do with the photo.

  ~~~

  "No-no," Todd yelled, speaking into a satellite phone, "it’s compound! It’s a compound fracture…right tib and fib. A lot of soft tissue damage…swelling." He could hear Gladys trying to respond but couldn’t make out what she was saying. "Gladys… Gladys I can’t hear you! The boy is crying. He’s in agony. I didn’t want to sedate him without you here."

  He reached for the wounded child’s mother, and placed her hand atop seven year old Zach Boon’s shoulder. She was crying too, standing over her son who was now writhing atop a blood soaked gurney positioned in the center of the riotous confusion that was the Parktown clinic.

  A lot of people were hurt. Three people in the clinic, five bundled up on cots outside in the cold. Half the town was milling about the grounds, bent on keeping the avalanche victims as comfortable as possible. There were plenty of good people eager to help, but Todd was the only real medical attention for miles around.

  "I have to talk to Gladys!" he shouted over the screaming. "I need to go outside!" The child’s mother nodded a quick confirmation and returned her attention to her son.

  Todd made his way through the bustling room and managed to find a spot of relative calm beneath an old aspen tree deep in the clinic parking lot. "Gladys," he spoke into the phone, "we can talk now. Zach Boon has broken his leg."

  "Yes I got that," Gladys said. "You say it’s compound? Tib and fib?"

  "Yes, that’s right. It’s practically twisted off. God I wish you were here… Any news on Maria and Josh? Are they still looking?"

  "They’re looking," Gladys said. "They’re doing the best they can. Now we have to do the best we can. I’ll let you know the moment I hear anything. We must stay focused on little Zach now. Okay?"

  "Yeah," Todd said slowly. "But you’ll let—"

  "I’ll let you know," Gladys interrupted. "We must concentrate on immobilizing the fractures by using external splints. From what you describe, it sounds like Gustilo 3-b with vascular damage…possibly inadequate circulation. Look for signs of hypoxia. Repair that as best as you can before moving to realign the ends of the fractured bones."

  "I wish you were here," Todd repeated.

  "You’ll be fine," Gladys said confidently. "Send Eric, or someone, to my cabin. He’ll find the eighth edition ‘Professional Guide to Diseases’ next to magazines - the medical bookcase in the living room. You’ve seen it. Follow the instructions. Above all, keep it sterile.

  "What about the pain, Gladys?" Todd . "The boy is in so much pain."

  "Don’t try to put him out," she answered quickly. "Use Cetaminophen and a local—"

  The phone fell silent. Todd stood for a time listening to commotion on the other end of the line.

  "Gladys?" he said finally, "you there?"

  Nothing.

  "Gladys?" he repeated.

  "Todd!" Gladys was suddenly back on the phone. "They found them!"

  "Oh my God!" Are they… alive?"

  "Yes, yes, they’re alive, but in pretty bad shape. They’re on their way to the Lehi clinic."

  Todd stumbled to the aspen tree and slid down the coarse bark until he was sitting at its base. "Thank God…thank God."

  "Todd!" Gladys said firmly, "I’m needed in Lehi. You have to take care of things there. Are you able?"

  "Yes Gladys," Todd managed to say finally. "You go take care of them, we’ll be fine here. You go… and tell her… No, just go… take care of them."

  Chapter_Seven

  Maria pulled the blanket away from her baby’s face. She watched contentedly as the child nursed, his tiny hand working against her breast. She smiled at the minute dimples that formed in his pursed cheeks as he rhythmically drew his mother’s milk. She tenderly played with the all but invisible white fuzz that remained on his miniature, perfectly formed ear and rolled her finger over the birthmark, barely noticeable on his left earlobe.

  A cool breeze fluffed the blanket and sent a ripple through the leafy maple tree canopy above their heads. She gazed up through the tangled branches observing the near cloudless sky and sat for a time listening to the agitated chirping of a particularly grouchy yellow-breasted warbler— no doubt one with a nearby family of her own.

  Her eyes returned to her precious child. Todd was her first taste of love, but this…. Nothing could have prepared her for the love of this tiny bundle, a surface, urgent kind of love that seemed almost painful, especially during these times of closeness. So natural; so perfect.

  That old familiar urgency returned to fill her head; the never-ending reminder of the fleeting nature of these wondrous times. It was only a time of interim, her mind told her, a respite before the inevitable separation.

  Josh needed her now, but the urgency reminded her that soon enough, he would be just like all the others. He would leave…

  "Maria."

  The sound of a voice made her glance up. A woman was standing at the door of the house; the house in Nashville. She immediately recognized the woman as someone familiar, but it took her a moment to realize who she was. It was Father Jenkins's secretary.

  Maria turned and gazed around the familiar neighborhood before returning her attention to the woman at the door. "I… I was just…."

  "We have to get started," the woman said. "We have to get this place ready. You can’t just walk away and leave your belongings here, you know."

  Maria glanced down at the baby and back up at the woman. "My baby’s asleep. I don’t want to—"

  "People are coming," The woman said interrupting. "Do you want people to find your belongings here?"

  "No, I suppose not," Maria said softly, "but who will watch Josh? Can’t we wait a moment until he finishes." She gasped as she noticed the baby was no longer in her arms. "Where’s Josh?" she demanded. "Where’s my baby?"

  "He’s fine," the lady at the door said. "He’s right here."

  She looked up to see the woman gently rocking little Josh in her arms. Maria quickly stood and moved towards the door. "I’ll take him," she said, pulling the child from the woman’s arms.

  The woman frowned. "Okay, but we haven’t much time."

  Maria stepped in and smiled softly. It seemed so long ago, yet here it all was just as they had left it. She glanced at the fireless fireplace and was instantly overcome with pain.

  "Todd didn’t come to help?" she said, returning her gaze to the woman.

  The woman’s face softened. "I’m sorry. We tried, but he refused. He said he didn’t want to complicate his new life just now. He sends his regrets."

  Tears welled in Maria’s eyes. "His new life? That’s what he said?"

  The woman smiled. "I wouldn’t worry about it. A girl as pretty as you shouldn’t have any problem—"

  "Where should I start?" Maria said, a little too loudly.

  The woman scanned the room. "Well, you could clear out those old photo albums under the entertainment center. You won’t be needing them anymore, now that you no longer have a family."

  Maria glanced at the woman. "How do you know about the photo albums?"

  The woman smiled again, batting at the air as if swatting at a fly. "Oh, we knew it all. You two were so much fun to watch."

  Maria frowned and turned her attention to the top photo album. "Hope you enjoyed the show," she said dryly.

  She opened the album and smiled. The picture was of Todd and her sitting under their old ash tree at the Cumberland River. That was the sweetest day of her life. That was the day she fell in love with Todd. She hadn’t known it at the time, but she knew it now. It’s funny; she couldn’t remember ever seeing that picture before.

  "Oh, he’s such a handsome man," the woman said, suddenly peekin
g over Maria’s shoulder. "I never mentioned it, but I had a little thing for him back then. Given half a chance I would have—"

  "Why are you being so cruel?" Maria shouted.

  The woman stepped back, obviously surprised by Maria’s sudden outburst. "What? It’s not like you wanted him, not in the way a man needs to be wanted. I’m surprised a man like that stayed around as long as he did."

  "We loved each other!" Maria yelled, her words breaking away into a sob.

  "Well, he certainly loved you, didn’t he?" the woman said. "He loved you enough for the both of you."

  Maria’s tears began to flow. "You don’t know anything about us! You don’t know what we went through together… we were…" her breath caught up in a convulsive gasp. "We were… two horns on a goat!"

  Another fitful sob took her breath away. She looked down through tear filled eyes at the photo album in her lap. The picture had turned into a raven haired little girl sitting alone beneath that same old ash tree on the Cumberland.

  "Oh my God," she moaned. She folded forward sobbing, clutching at the photo album still in her lap. "I can’t go back to that. I can’t live without Todd."

  If only she hadn’t gone to that damn clinic. If only she'd had the strength to ignore his indiscretion. Maybe if she just went back, maybe he would find a way to love her again. Maybe he would, because of what they had been through together. Maybe he would be content, for a while, to simply let her love him enough for the both of them.

  Suddenly her attention was diverted back to the photo album in her lap…In her lap where the baby was supposed to be.

  "Where’s my baby?" she shouted. She leapt to her feet and rounded on the woman. "Where’s my baby!" she repeated through gritted teeth.

  "We have to get started," the woman said. "We have to get this place ready. You can’t just walk away and leave your belongings here, you know."

  Maria pushed the woman into the wall. "WHERE’S MY BABY!"she shrieked.