by Aaron Mach
“I’m not going to send you there, to that other place. That place we all must go. But you have a choice to make, congressman.”
Coolidge looked at him nervously.
“You are coming with me. We are going to the nearest police station and you will confess to everything that you have ever done.”
Coolidge chuckled, then a full-on laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“You will feel such a sense of relief, and maybe you too aren’t as lost as you may think.”
Coolidge sat in the chair and began fidgeting wildly. Put into a position that he could not fully comprehend nor could he bear. He threw his glass into the fire and the remaining drink enraged the flames. Jack saw out the corner of his eye the glimmer of silver metal as it shined in the light of the fire. As he turned he could see the rage in the eyes of Coolidge as he raised the pistol towards Jack. The reflection of the flames within his eyes burned, as did his rage at this man giving him an ultimatum.
The sound of the silenced machine-gun, pfft – pfft. Then it was over. The pistol fell to the ground at the congressman’s feet. His hands went limp in the chair as the two gut wounds took all the fight out of him. He slouched into the chair and his chin rested on his chest. His cold eyes looked at Jack as the light of the fire was beginning to fade out of them. The rage was still alive in them but with no meaningful way to act on it as he was nearing that other place. There was only a stare, and if a stare could kill, then Jack would surely be dead. As the realization of death loomed into his consciousness the eyes lightened. Fear spread over them and he looked like a small boy after being awoken from a nightmare.
“I-thought-there-was-more-” then his body went limp.
Jack sat for a moment. Remembering what Arch had said before he had died. He placed the weapon down at his side, got up and grabbed a drink from the cart. Gin, all that was left. He sat with the cold drink in his hand and soaked up the warmth from the fire. There was more, so much more. Those men were overtaken by the dark. He too could have taken the dark path, a road that he had been on already. Lying there in the riverbed, feeling the darkness come over him, thinking too, that there was more. Oh how he was wrong, and oh how they were wrong. There is life to be lived. To find the righteousness in every moment, to look for the joy and grasp it with every fiber of your being lest it be taken from you. Yes, fight. Fight hard for that goodness that is so easily lost.
Jack finished the drink, saddened that the congressman chose so poorly, and looked upon him with pity. He stood, grasped his side. The drink helped with the pain. Pausing for a moment, he put his hand over the man’s eyes and closed them. There was no need for cruelty. Each man must find his own way and more often than not that way finds you lost and wanting.
Jack looked around the room one last time and walked out the rear entrance from where he came and was gone into the night.
XXIX
“Hey Anders! Go long!”
His good friend ran down the dirt road and caught the Hail Mary Jack threw to him. Anders fumbled it and rolled hard into the road.
“Guess we need to practice more!” Jack yelled, laughing.
Anders got up, dusted himself off, and grinned heartily.
“Pretty sure it was the throw, man!”
“Unlikely!” Jack replied, still unable to stop laughing.
“Come on guys, time to eat!” Marie yelled at them as she placed a large bowl of potato salad on the long picnic table in front of the cabin.
Jack and Anders ran up and behind them two cattle dogs nipped at their heels, trying to coral them like the cattle they were born to wrangle.
“Hey kids, time to eat!” Jack shouted to his two small children who were playing by the creek, a boy and a girl.
All of them, Anders with his wife and now grown little girl, Jack and Marie with their two small children and the dogs standing guard for any food that might hit the ground were all around the large red and white checkered picnic table.
“Pass the burgers,” Anders said to Jack as he grabbed the plate and put three large pieces of beef into his bun.
“Hungry much?” Marie said while chuckling.
“Hey, when you build a whole new cabin in a couple weeks you’d be hungry too,” Anders replied as he laughed.
“You guys did such a great job on it. It looks just how Eli would have wanted it.”
“Had to make it a bit bigger for everyone, but yeah, I really think he would have liked it,” Jack said with a smile.
They all ate heartily and the women were clearing the table. The children returned to the creek and were jumping in and out, covering themselves with mud. The dogs barked and were running the track of the creek, splashing water all around as the children laughed.
Jack and Anders sat next to the campfire as the sun was beginning to come down over the ridge. It would be dark soon on the mild Montana summer day. They lit cigars and told old war stories and sat, quietly watching all the beauty around them.
Jack walked to the river alone, finding the spot where he and Eli would spend their days fishing. He imagined Eli standing waist deep in the river, sending out his lure back and forth along the top of the water. He heard his laughter as he caught a big trout. Jack smiled and laughed.
“Thank you, friend,” Jack said as he laughed louder and slapped his hand on his knee. He was overcome by joy, the joy he fought so hard to find. With Eli’s laughter loud in the background, Jack couldn’t help it, he began to dance to a tune only he and Eli would ever hear.
About the Author
Aaron Mach lives in Colorado Springs, Co with his wife and cattle dog. He is a veteran of the Afghan War and an avid traveller. He also loves to enjoy all that the Colorado wilderness has to offer.