“Hi, Mandy,” Dr. Reese said as he picked up the call.
“Hello, my pseudo-psychic husband,” Amanda responded. “How goes the battle up there?”
“Oh, we’ve stayed pretty quiet. Except for the grumbling of a few of the staff members forced to sleep here tonight, you’d practically never know anything at all unusual was happening.”
“You sound tired,” Amanda said.
“Do I?” said the doctor. “I guess maybe I am feeling a little worn out. I’d rather be home with the two of you. It reminds me of that blizzard we had two years ago, except you were stranded down in Durango, and Chelsea was home alone. As I remember, she loved that, and we hated it.”
“Actually, I didn’t mind it so much either,” Amanda said. “I had a great room at the Ramada and got caught up on some trashy daytime television. I think a good blizzard, now and then, is good for the soul.”
“Yeah, sure, you get stranded at the Ramada, and I get stranded at work. You get trashy television and I get an industrial-strength mattress.”
“Poor baby,” said Amanda. “You could walk home you know, if you really wanted to.”
“Yes, I could, but that would be a bad plan. Part of the reason I’m staying is to show some support for the other staff that have to stay. I’ll just tough it out. Eddie and I have been working up a plan to shuttle employees back and forth to Cottonwood tomorrow and for as many days as this thing lasts. We’ve got two electric golf carts, and they seem to be working just fine. If my car still won’t start tomorrow, I’ll be arriving home in high fashion tomorrow evening, courtesy of a golf cart.”
“Tell you what,” said Amanda, “if this isn’t all cleared up by morning, Chelsea and I will ride our bikes up there to see you. We’ll bring you lunch. How’s that sound?”
“That’d be nice…so nice, in fact, that part of me hopes it does last that long, as it’s been a while since you two have come out for lunch.”
“We’ve got a date then,” began Amanda. “Before I let you go off to bed, though, you really need to hear about our evening…it was interesting, to say the least.”
“How’d the emergency meeting go?” asked Paul. “Was Cameron his usual blow-hard self?”
Amanda chuckled. “I actually didn’t make it to the meeting, but I’ve heard from some others that he was pretty tame tonight. There really wasn’t much for him to report. So far, there just doesn’t seem to be many effects from this whole ‘emergency.’ A lot of people came down to Ernie’s afterwards and were in pretty good spirits. The most interesting thing I overheard people talking about was the idea that this whole thing was brought about by some secret military test or something. I’m sure Vince started that. Overall, it sounds like it was pretty much a non-emergency meeting.”
“That’s kind of what I expected, really,” said Dr. Reese. “I think this is probably much ado about nothing, and tomorrow things will likely be back to normal—but I hope not until after you and Chelse ride out here. It would be nice to see you over lunch.”
“Well, I still haven’t told you about the really weird part of my day—which had nothing to do with the traffic stalling out,” said Amanda.
“Something even stranger than that happened?”
“I think so anyway. As I said, Chelse and I were eating dinner at Ernie’s with Rebecca when we were joined by an unusual guest. The restaurant was full, with a waiting list, believe it or not, and Rebecca motioned to someone to come over and join us at our table. This guy sits down, and he turns out to be the same guy we saw naked earlier in the day.”
“Excuse me?! You saw somebody naked today?!”
“Yeah, I was just getting to that. Chelsea and I were riding our bikes along the river above McCann Park, when we came across this guy who was bare-butt naked in the river. He told us he was washing himself, but I’m not so certain about that. He—”
Dr. Reese cut her off. “Wait a second. He said he was washing himself? You talked to him as he was standing there naked in the river?!”
“Yes, of course! We sat right there on the ground next to the naked man in the river and talked to him as he stood there in the water washing his nicely tanned derrière.”
“What?!” said Dr. Reese.
“You know if you’d let me finish, you wouldn’t ask such stupid questions. No, of course we didn’t speak with him right there and then! We rode past him as fast as we could and hoped he’d be gone on our way back.”
“Sorry,” said the doctor. “It was just a bit confusing. Go ahead….”
After a brief pause, Amanda began again, “Okay, so we were at Ernie’s getting ready to order, and the very same man we’d seen bathing in Little Bear River earlier in the day, turns out to be the same guy Rebecca invites to join us for dinner. It turns out she knew him from before we even moved here, and he used to live in Cottonwood. So he sits down, right across from us, and doesn’t even show an ounce of embarrassment for exposing himself to us like that, and—”
“Was he just naked or actually exposing himself? There is a difference, you know.”
“I don’t see any difference. It was a public area, and he was naked. That’s about as exposed as you can get. But wait, it gets even better. This guy—Matthew Duncan’s his name—is sitting across from us, when we notice he’s got Old Blind Carl’s cane right there with him at the table, so we’re thinking that maybe he did something to Old Blind Carl, because—”
“Sorry for the interruption again, really,” said Dr. Reese, “but you’re going a bit fast for me. I really want to understand every detail. Let’s go back to Old Blind Carl. You say this guy had Old Blind Carl’s cane with him? Where was Old Blind Carl?”
“Well, that’s just it—he’s missing! When we first started out on our ride, Chelsea and I noticed his cane next to the bench in McCann Park, but when we came back by on our way home, it was gone. The next time we saw it was at Ernie’s—being carried by Matthew Duncan.”
“The naked man had the cane?”
“Yes!” said Amanda, growing agitated. She was just beginning one of her famous verbal rolls, and she didn’t like to have her momentum cut short with too many questions. “That is exactly what I said. Matthew—Duncan—had—Old—Blind—Carl’s—cane. Can I state this any more clearly?”
“Nope, very clear,” said Dr. Reese. “I promise not to say another word until you are done.”
“Thank you,” said Amanda. “So he had Old Blind Carl’s cane, and when we began questioning him about it, including even Rebecca, he told us Carl had given it to him as a gift or something, because he no longer needed it, because—get this—he wasn’t blind anymore! He told us flat out that Old Blind Carl was no longer blind! Imagine! And that’s why he no longer needed his cane! Can you believe that?”
To avoid interrupting her again, Dr. Reese waited before responding to a potentially rhetorical question. It was a good choice, as Amanda immediately continued:
“Well, with that obvious lie of his, I really got suspicious of this guy, so earlier, I’d spotted Sparky in the diner sort of watching us, so when we were leaving, I took Sparky outside and showed him the cane and told him all about Matthew Duncan. Of course, Sparky didn’t get what I was saying at first, but the more he stood there looking at Old Blind Carl’s cane, the more I think he started putting two and two together, and the more he started seeing things the way I was seeing them. Chelsea tried adding her opinion to the whole situation, but I think he left there thinking the same thing that I was thinking, and that’s that Matthew Duncan did something to Old Blind Carl, and I mean something really bad. But even with that, Sparky let Chelsea bring Old Blind Carl’s cane home with her.”
There was silence on the line as Dr. Reese gave it the necessary safe pause.
“Well?” Amanda asked finally. “Don’t you have anything to say about all this?”
“I was just making sure you were done,” said the doctor. “Forgive my ignorance, as I’m sure you said this, dear, but first of all, how
did you get outside with the cane? And second of all, why did Chelsea take it home?”
Amanda paused for a moment. “Okay, maybe I did forget that part. Well, as we were leaving the table, Matthew Duncan stood up and handed the cane to Chelsea, as what he called ‘a gift.’ I don’t think it was a gift—I think he was just trying to get rid of the evidence. He probably had no idea that I was on to him and would go right to Sparky with the evidence that could be used against him if they find Old Blind Carl’s body tomorrow, floating down Little Bear River.”
“So Chelsea took the cane outside when you took Sparky outside to speak to him?”
“That’s right.”
“Interesting…that’s for sure. Has anyone bothered to go by Carl’s house to check on him? That would be a good start, I’d think.”
“Sparky said he would be doing that later.”
“Aside from the nude bathing, this could all have a simple explanation. He definitely ought to be more discreet about where he flashes his birthday suit, but it is quite possible that Carl merely got a new cane.”
“That’s a simple explanation, but I don’t think it’s too likely. Why would Carl take his old cane out to the river if he had a new one? He wouldn’t walk with both of them out there, would he? And I sure don’t think a new cane just came floating down the river to him. And you know as well as I do that Carl never walks anywhere without his cane. Have you ever seen him without it? I sure haven’t. I think this guy did something to poor old Carl. Why would he use the absurd excuse that Old Blind Carl could now see? And when we asked him where Old Blind Carl was, you know what he said? He said he had no idea, but that he suspected Carl might be out seeing all the things he’d always wanted to see, if only he could. If that isn’t the lamest excuse imaginable! I’m telling you…I think this guy did something awful to Old Blind Carl. You can use your own imagination as to what that might have been, but when you’re walking around with a missing blind man’s cane—it looks pretty suspicious.”
There was silence for a few seconds. Dr. Reese looked over at the clock on the wall and realized now how late it was. He felt he was fading fast. “You certainly had a more interesting day than I did,” he said. “If someone hadn’t told me about the traffic stalling out, I wouldn’t even know anything unusual was occurring in the area. I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow and getting the latest update on everything—traffic, nude men, canes, and Old Blind Carl. I certainly hope to hear that he’s been found, but for now, I think it’s about time to head off to my rock-hard industrial-strength mattress.”
The two said their goodnights, and Dr. Reese left his office and went down the hall toward the empty room. Once inside, he undressed down to his T-shirt and underwear, brushed his teeth with a spare toothbrush he always kept in his desk, and climbed onto what felt like a slab of granite. It took a long while, but finally he relaxed enough to let go of the day….
Old Blind Carl is walking along a street in Cottonwood without his cane. He is tapping the concrete sidewalk as though he still has one, but his hands are empty. He looks up and smiles at me and then continues walking and tapping an invisible cane. I am at Little Bear River. A man with a face I don’t recognize is standing naked in Little Bear River. He has the strong body of a young man. He is washing himself. Then he is holding Old Blind Carl’s cane. Then Amanda is there, standing by the river with her bike helmet on and is wearing nothing else. Why are you letting this man see you naked?! She walks into the river and takes off her helmet and lets it float down the river. The helmet twirls and spins on the current of the river, like a leaf floating free on an autumn wind. Amanda then takes the cane from the naked man. Her body is so beautiful! Why are you taking the cane?! Then a clothed Chelsea is standing on the trail near the river. She has a camera and takes a picture of the naked man and Amanda in the river. They pose and smile for the camera. Why are you taking their picture? Why are you posing with him, Amanda?! Why are you smiling? “Amanda, put on some clothes!” I say. “Don’t let them see you naked!” Then Old Blind Carl is there. The four of them are sitting by the river—Amanda, Chelsea, Old Blind Carl, and the naked man. I am sitting with them. The naked man now looks like Sparky. He has the face of Sparky, but it isn’t Sparky. He has the eyes of someone else. How strange! Who are you? Why do you look like Sparky but aren’t him? The naked man only smiles at me. The naked man hands me the cane. “Take care of this,” he says. I take it. “Why are you giving it to me? Carl needs this!” I say. I look at Carl and he is smiling and looking back at me with eyes that see! The cane is heavy and getting heavier—far heavier than it should be! It doesn’t feel like wood but something dense—like a heavy metal that only looks like wood. I have a hard time holding it up. It pulls my hands to the ground. The cane is stuck to the ground and then begins to sink into the dirt. I pull and pull at the cane but cannot bring it back out of the dirt. I must let it go or be sucked down under the dirt with it. Then the cane disappears under the brown dirt. I look up. Amanda, Chelsea, and the naked man are gone! Why would Amanda and Chelsea leave with the naked man?! I turn and see the three of them far up the hill on the bike trail. They are all on bikes and riding away quickly, with the naked man leading the way. “Amanda! Chelsea!” I yell, but the three go up and over the hill and out of sight. I try to get up and follow, but my body is heavy; I can’t move! My arms and legs feel heavy like the cane had been. I begin to sink into the ground. I am naked, too, and can feel the earth coming up around my legs and then my hips. I sink deeper and deeper. The dirt is cold and moves like liquid, but it is not muddy or wet. Old Blind Carl is still there and he’s watching me. He looks younger—much younger! “What has happened to you, Carl? Help me! Please!” I yell, but he only smiles with eyes wide open and seeing. They are a beautiful brown—like the rich brown dirt! They are a child’s eyes, young and pure, and they look down at me as I am sinking into the dirt. The eyes grow bigger. The black pupils of the eyes grow larger, and I feel them pulling at me. They pull me up and out of the dirt and into them! The pupils of the eyes are a pure liquid black—alive and liquid and full of stars. I am floating in a liquid sea of black and stars. The stars move and float with the passing of waves. I can feel the waves but cannot see them. Up and down, they move me. Up and down, the waves pass, like breathing and floating, floating and breathing…floating…floating…floating…
Twenty-Nine
Old Blind Carl’s Cane
Chelsea Reese went straight to her room after returning home from dinner. She normally would have practiced the piano for at least an hour or so, as she did every night during the summer, often followed up by watching a movie with her parents. Tonight her routine was interrupted, as something unexpected, and even more than that—mysterious—seemed to be calling her to change that routine.
She closed her bedroom door and sat on the edge of the bed, holding a wooden cane that belonged to a man she only knew by the name of Old Blind Carl—she didn’t even know his last name. Everyone in town always called him Old Blind Carl, and she couldn’t recall if she’d ever even heard his last name mentioned. As she studied the cane, she noticed that the dark wood actually looked as if some sort of clear and hard finish had been put on it at one time, though from the spotty condition of the finish, it must have been many years ago. Chelsea noticed an area just below the curve at the top of the cane, which was particularly worn down; it had been worn right through the finish and into the wood itself. She wrapped her right hand around the cane so that the curve of the cane rested on her forearm and found that the fit of her hand into the worn area of the cane was nearly perfect.
Standing up and holding the cane in the same manner she imagined Old Blind Carl might, she closed her eyes and walked across her room, tapping the cane back and forth on the floor as she’d seen Carl do so many times along the streets of Cottonwood. Suddenly, she felt her closed door with the cane and simultaneously heard a loud whack! She had hit the door a bit too hard with the cane. She opened her eyes and walked bac
k to her bed.
Chelsea sat back on her bed and turned the cane upside down, closely inspecting the dark brown rubber cap on the tip. Though worn, it looked newer than the rest of the cane, and she imagined it had been replaced many times over its lifetime, like putting new tires on a car as the car itself ages. The rubber cap made regular contact with pavements and sidewalks and gradually wore out as it guided Old Blind Carl on his walks. She ran her hand along the length of the cane very slowly and realized that what appeared to be a smooth surface was actually not so smooth at all. It had bumps, nicks, rough spots, small cracks, and gouges. She could feel ridgelines in the cane from the grain of the wood. She closed her eyes and wondered if Old Blind Carl knew his cane by feeling it like this. How else could he? She imagined his hands touching the fine details in the same way. How much more heightened might his sense of touch be?
She thought back to the strange night and the even stranger words Matthew had said to her about Old Blind Carl after he had given her the cane. It’s almost as though you can read the story of his life in that cane. She wondered what that might mean. How do you read the story of a blind man’s life in his cane? How does a blind man read?
Chelsea closed her eyes again, and this time she tried to feel the grooves and nicks more deeply. She tried to ignore what they felt like and open herself to something else. Like a blind person reading Braille, she tried to get past the form of the bumps and cracks in the cane—to get at what they might mean. What did they mean to Carl? To his life? What would it be like to get information about the world through the sense of touch?! What would it be like to read Shakespeare in Braille, to have the human condition—the human soul—revealed in tiny bumps on a page, and have the truths of the universe opened up through touch alone?
Touching Cottonwood Page 23