Touching Cottonwood

by Randall Simpson

  “You know what I mean. After three years, you show up on the same day we have all this other craziness going on.”

  Matthew chuckled. “I don’t see any craziness in any of it.”

  “Oh, c’mon. You must see it. We were standing right there on Main Street when the traffic all just stopped…and then that silly bird. I’ve been thinking about it. What was it called—a meadowlark?”

  “A Western Meadowlark,” said Matthew.

  “It just sang so happily as the traffic went silent. I’m still impressed that you could identify it just by its song.”

  “How do you know I could? Maybe I was lying to you and just made up what kind of bird it was.”

  Rebecca stopped and looked at him. “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “How are you so sure?” asked Matthew.

  She studied his eyes in the light from a streetlamp. “I could always tell when you were lying. If I’ve somehow lost that ability with you—well, then we need to take a step back.” She looked at him a moment longer. “Nope,” she said, “you were telling the truth.”

  “That’s a pretty amazing skill,” he said. “What exactly are you looking for when you look at me like that?”

  “It’s just an old trick I learned in one of my college psychology classes. When someone is lying, they will, more often then not, look away and blink a lot. You looked right at me and didn’t blink.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Well, that and my feminine intuition, of course.”

  “Of course, and you’re right—I was truthful. It was a Western Meadowlark, and its scientific name is Sturnella neglecta, the so-called neglected or forgotten meadowlark—as named by good old Audubon himself.”

  Rebecca let out a big laugh.

  “What’s so funny about that?” asked Matthew. “That’s what he called it, seriously.”

  “It’s not the name so much as I was thinking maybe I should adopt that bird as my personal mascot,” she said. “Three years is a lot of neglect.”

  “I guess I can’t argue with that, but at least I’m here now though, right?”

  “At least, I think you are,” said Rebecca as she stopped, and they faced each other. She reached up and touched his face. She stroked his hair and then let her hand run down his arm to join it with his. “This still seems like some kind of a dream to me,” she continued. “I had almost given up hope of ever seeing you again, and now you’re standing here, and I’m looking at you and holding your hand. Part of me expects to wake up any second and once more be alone in my bedroom…with you evaporating into the night.”

  “This seems like a dream come true, to me,” Matthew said as he reached up and held his hand on her cheek and then leaned down and kissed her on the lips. It was another long kiss like the one they’d shared back at the diner, and it took her on a journey just as warm and sweet.

  Eventually the two made their way to McCann Park, to the same green bench where Matthew and Old Blind Carl had been sitting earlier in the day, though now in darkness, the green had faded to dark gray. As they sat there, with Rebecca leaning her head on Matthew’s shoulder, they spent a while in the silence and perfection of the moment. The nearby river sang them a soft bubbling lullaby that only lovers can hear.

  Finally, Rebecca’s voice joined in the sounds of the night.

  “There are no jobs here,” she said.

  “Well, Ernie has already offered me a job,” said Matthew.

  Rebecca chuckled. “Busboy or cook?”

  Matthew smiled. “I can cook up a pretty tasty omelet, you know. But don’t worry, I’ll find something here. Maybe I’ll become sort of the town handyman—a fix-it-all type guy.”

  She looked at him. “Would you really be happy? Don’t you want to go back to being a ranger?”

  “Those days are over. I lived that part of my life and now am ready for other challenges. Nothing will ever take me away from you again, so I guess I’d better find something to do in Cottonwood.”

  Rebecca turned and looked out at the dark river. She could hear the water churning but could not see it.

  “I guess, but…well, can you be a forest ranger? I mean—after serving time in prison?”

  Matthew was also looking out toward the river but then turned and looked at Rebecca as he answered.

  “I figured you’d come back to that…eventually,” he said.

  “It’s something I need to understand and know about. We can’t have secrets,” she said. “We shared everything before, and I wouldn’t be with someone who kept things from me. I’d like you to tell me about what happened—so that I can understand those three years when you disappeared from my life.”

  He turned and reached down to hold her hand. “I will tell you everything—eventually. Please trust me when I say that. For now, just know and believe that I was charged with a crime that I did not commit and spent three years of my life in prison for that. I didn’t write you because I was afraid of losing you.”

  “You talk about trust, but don’t you trust me? You took more of a chance at losing me by not writing or telling me where you were.”

  Matthew looked at her. She saw his eyes filling with tears. “I’m just a man. I’m not perfect, and I can see now that my fear of losing you clouded my perception. I am truly sorry for not writing to you, but I thought it was better that you didn’t know what had happened to me.”

  Rebecca reached up and touched his face. “I’ve known you for so long, and except for these past three years, you earned my trust over those years. If you will promise to never lie to me and to trust me from here on out, I will renew my trust in you.”

  Matthew leaned forward and embraced her. “You have my promise on that.”

  Rebecca pulled back and held each of his arms. “Then I have two questions for you, Mr. Duncan. If you say you can’t tell me right now, I will trust that you have a good reason why, but if you can tell me, I trust that you’ll give me honest answers.”

  “Go ahead,” he said.

  “Okay. First, why were you sent to prison? What was your crime?”

  “I was accused of manslaughter,” he said without hesitation.

  “You were accused of killing someone?” Rebecca asked, her stomach suddenly in a knot.

  “A man died while I was a patient in the same hospital. They claimed that he died as a result of something I did. They were wrong—as just the opposite was true. I only wanted this man to live, but the jury didn’t see it that way.”

  “I can’t imagine being sent to prison for something I didn’t do,” said Rebecca.

  “You may find this odd, but I didn’t really resent being sent there. I actually tried to make the most of it and to correct some things that I thought were wrong in that facility.”

  “Like what? What did you do?”

  “Nothing big—mainly just gave the inmates a little respect. I tried to show them that even though they were serving prison terms, they were still deserving of basic respect as human beings and could still improve themselves. It was amazing to see how far a little respect could go. It was sorely lacking there. I made sure I called them all—even the guards—by their first names, and eventually they let me teach some basic martial arts during recreational time. Those classes are where I worked on trying to give them the other side of respect—self-respect.”

  “I’m impressed,” said Rebecca. “Most people would have just been so angry for even being in a place where they felt they didn’t deserve to be.”

  “Don’t be impressed with me,” Matthew said, once more holding his hand gently on the side of her face. “I’m the one who didn’t write for three years—remember?”

  “But at least now I know why, and that’s all I ever wanted. Most of the time, not knowing is so much harder.”

  Rebecca moved closer and gave Matthew a long and tender kiss. The three years of neglect were quickly melting away in the glow. He stroked her hair, and they kissed again.

  “You said you had two questions for
me,” he whispered.

  She hesitated. “Oh, this second one seems so silly compared to what you’ve just told me.”

  “Good, I like silly questions.”

  “Well…there’s still the issue of Old Blind Carl.”

  “I didn’t know he was an issue.”

  “I know how much he meant to you as you listened to his stories while growing up. We all love him. But it really was odd that you would have his cane and that he would just give it to you. You must see how strange and—”

  “Suspicious?” Matthew said, finishing her thought.

  She was embarrassed. “Yes, I guess that’s the right word.”

  “Are you suspicious?”

  She looked at him and the dark outline of his face. “I wouldn’t be sitting here if I didn’t trust you. You must know that by now. I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt Carl, but you said something more than a little fantastic at Ernie’s tonight, and I figured you were just having some fun with Amanda and Chelsea. But really, I’d like to know why Old Blind Carl would give you his cane?”

  “You didn’t believe what I was saying then?”

  “I thought you were kidding,” said Rebecca. “Amanda and Chelsea are not here now—it’s just the two of us. How did you really get his cane? Did Carl finally get a new one?”

  Matthew moved his face very close to hers. “Don’t you believe in miracles anymore?” he whispered to her.

  She paused for a moment and then said, “Yes, I guess I do—I mean I’d like to.”

  “I’m glad, because you were the first to introduce me to them,” he said. “I remember a day many years ago, not far from this very spot, when you presented me with my very first miracle—in a dandelion seed. Do you remember that?”

  Rebecca thought back. She peeled back the layers of the many years.

  “I do remember that day,” she began. “It was spring….”

  They were both fifteen. They had kissed, a real first kiss, not many weeks before. She spent nearly every waking moment thinking of Matthew and wanting to be with him. They had gone to McCann Park to eat a picnic lunch and to play in the river. They spent the afternoon splashing, laughing, flirting, and kissing. Soaking wet, they moved to the grass to dry out and share their dreams. They talked about the future and what they wanted to become and do with their lives.

  “I remember you had your head in my lap,” continued Rebecca. “I picked a dandelion that had gone to seed. I loved to look at their little umbrella seeds, blowing on them gently and watching them drift into the air. In an instant—something about that moment opened up a bigger world to me. I remember how perfect everything seemed. The moment was perfect—being with you, being in love, the river, the grass, the spring day, and the dandelion—it was all perfect. It was the perfection and completeness of that moment that opened a miracle to me. And that little dandelion seed that I sent wafting in the breeze—it seemed to almost freeze in mid-air—and we both looked at it for what seemed like forever. You remember that?”

  “I do remember,” said Matthew. “It was one of the first timeless moments of my life.”

  “Yes, that’s it!” said Rebecca. “Timeless—that’s what it was. That little seed floated there outside of time and yet seemed to contain the past and future in it.” Rebecca sat up and looked directly at Matthew. “I’ve never told anyone else about that moment, and it’s amazing to me you still remember it.”

  “How could I not? That was one of the most real moments of my life—the kind that gets forever impressed on you and in you. It was the first miracle I remember experiencing—and I shared it with you.”

  Rebecca paused for a moment, listening to the river and Matthew’s words still ringing in her heart. “I need…” she finally said, her voice low and soft, “…to fully grasp the truth of what you’re saying about Old Blind Carl. Are you sticking with your story that he’s no longer blind?”

  “Are you sticking with your story about the timeless little dandelion?” he asked in return.

  “But it’s so fantastic! How could such a thing happen?”

  “Which? The dandelion or Carl getting his eyesight back? How does any of it happen? How do you or I or this world or any of it? Isn’t it all just a miracle, really? Carl regaining his eyesight is just a small part of a much larger miracle, but because we live inside that miracle every day, we fail to see what a miracle it is.”

  Rebecca paused for a moment and then let out a sigh. “But where is he then, I wonder? If what you say is true, why wouldn’t he rush to let everyone know? He should have been in Ernie’s tonight, screaming and shouting for joy! Wouldn’t that be what you would do?”

  “I’m not sure what I would do,” said Matthew. “The behavior of someone who could see for the first time in their life is hard to predict. I know that when I got my freedom from prison, I rushed back here to be with you. Who knows, maybe Carl has a love he left behind somewhere.”

  Rebecca turned, held both sides of Matthew’s face, and looked into his eyes. It was dark, but she could still see their shine. “All right, I want to look right at you when you answer me. You are telling me that you saw Carl yourself—with his eyesight restored?”

  “Right at this very spot,” said Matthew without wavering.

  She released his face and leaned back in the bench, looking out at the dark river.

  “It’s just so unbelievably amazing,” said Rebecca. She paused for a moment and then added, “but I suppose…so was my dandelion. I guess I would just like to see him and speak to him sometime soon.”

  “You will,” said Matthew. “I’m not sure how soon, but I feel pretty sure you will. And now that I’ve answered your two questions, I have two questions of my own.”

  Rebecca looked over at him. “I suppose you want me to answer them truthfully as well?” she asked. “The full truth and nothing but the truth?”

  “No, please, not that kind of truth. From my personal experience, I’ve found that it isn’t always so reliable. Just your own truth will do—the truth from your heart.”

  “Fine. Two questions.”

  “All right, first question,” began Matthew. “Do you remember when we were in Seattle together, and we stopped in that jewelry store, and just for fun you picked out a ring you thought you might someday like to have—if we were to ever somehow wind up married?”

  Rebecca paused for a moment. “Do I remember it?! It was the most gorgeous ring I’d ever set my eyes on. It practically jumped out of the display case as we passed by the shop window, because it was so brilliant. I’ve never seen such a ring—before or since. It was fun to go inside to try it on. But that poor clerk! We really shouldn’t have wasted her time, but it was fun to pretend! What did it cost? About six months of your forest ranger salary?”

  “About ten, actually.”

  “Okay, so you made even less than I thought…but it was lovely.”

  Matthew started to move off the bench, and Rebecca’s heart suddenly began to beat a little harder. He slipped down to one knee in front of her. He looked up at her and held her hand with one of his, while the other hand was down at his side.

  “And now…for my second question,” he said with a strong but soft and unwavering voice.

  Her heart was now a beating drum, her hands shaking. Matthew held them as if to keep them still. It helped, but only a little.

  He looked up at her in the soft darkness. “Will you, Rebecca D’Arcy, my lifelong friend and first and last love, the woman who introduced me to miracles, the woman who balances me with her softness and tenderness, spend the rest of your life by my side as my companion, my friend, and my wife?”

  As he finished his question, he lifted his other hand to her knee and opened a small jewelry box. Though hard to see clearly in the dim light, the box seemed tattered and worn. Inside, though, was something that even the dim moonlight could not hold back or hide. In fact, the moonlight seemed to joyfully and gladly jump inside of it and dance among its brilliant facets. In the box
now resting on her knee was the ring they had looked at together so many years before. With quivering hands, she removed the ring from the box and held it close to gaze upon it. As if in empathy with the sparkling splendor of the diamond, first one and then another crystal teardrop fell from Rebecca D’Arcy’s emerald colored eyes.

  Twenty-Eight

  At the Home

  Though there was officially an emergency going on in Cottonwood, the general mood of the citizens and stranded visitors was not indicative of such. People were somehow energized by the strange events and their sudden isolation from the world. Aside from one visitor who had to give up his seat in Ernie’s Diner to Deputy Sheriff Sparky and one citizen who had to turn his electric car over to the same deputy, no one appeared worse off for the situation. Spirits were high, and an almost holiday atmosphere prevailed around the town. The event had begun to make the regional and even national news, and so lots of people waited by their televisions for the next news report on Cottonwood. Just hearing their town mentioned was a thrill for the long-term town residents who couldn’t recall the town ever being mentioned for anything before.

  Four miles north of Cottonwood at the Home, there was some inconvenience, as employees who lived more than a few miles away were being forced to stay over for an additional shift because they had no way of getting to their homes. Overall though, despite the longer shifts, the general mood was positive and one of business as usual.

  Higher-functioning residents continued to go about their normal routines, while the others without such skills were no less aware than usual of the general activities going on around them. The fact that cars, trucks, motorcycles, and other vehicles for miles around had suddenly stopped operating had, so far, made little difference to the operations of the Home. For the time being, Cottonwood’s most important remaining economic asset remained intact.

  Though things were still operating fairly normally, Dr. Paul Reese didn’t like the fact that he wouldn’t be going home for the night. Even though he knew Amanda and Chelsea could take care of themselves just fine, the thought that he couldn’t get to them quickly if they needed him, made him feel uneasy. He would be using an unoccupied resident room as his temporary quarters for the night. Prior to leaving his office and heading for his room, he decided to call Amanda one last time for the day. Before he could pick up his desk phone to dial, the phone rang, and he recognized his own home number on the caller I.D.