by Ray Gorham
Chuck grinned proudly. “Guilty as charged. It’s just the way I’m wired. You should be used to it by now. We’ve been married for fifty years.”
“Oh, I’m used to it, and you know I appreciate it,” said Grace. “I’m just warning Jennifer about what she’s in for if you start treating her like a daughter.”
“Don’t worry about it, Chuck,” Jennifer said. “I’m flattered that you’re concerned.”
Lubbock, Texas
Kyle felt something cold and wet wipe across his face. His head throbbed, along with the rest of his body, but at least with the pain he knew he wasn’t dead. A chair scraped loudly and unexpectedly on the floor, and he swung his arms up to shield himself.
“It’s okay. You can relax,” a woman said in a soothing voice. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
Kyle cautiously lowered his arms and tried to open his eyes, the swelling in his face making it difficult. His left eye was stuck shut, but his right opened a crack and, in the darkness, he could faintly make out a figure on a chair near where he lay.
The last thing he remembered was being beaten by three men in the street, but that was around noon, and now it was dark. He tried to piece the day together but drew blanks.
He attempted to sit up, until a hand on his shoulder gently pushed him down. “Don’t get up,” the woman said. “You need to rest. You’ve had a rough day. In the morning you’ll feel a little better.”
Kyle relaxed and lay back on the bed. “Where am I?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
“You’re safe,” the woman answered. “My dad brought you home, and we’re going take care of you.”
“What about my stuff? Did he get my stuff?”
“I think so, but I’m not sure. I’ll ask him in the morning. It’s almost midnight and he’s asleep. You go back to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Kyle inhaled deeply and felt sharp pains in his ribs. He slowly exhaled and closed his eyes. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for helping me.”
CHAPTER 14
Monday, September 12th
Deer Creek, Montana
Jennifer lay in her bed, drifting between sleep and consciousness, the sunlight warming her face as she lay there thinking about the new day. The house was cool, and with nothing on the schedule until later, she resisted getting out of her cozy bed.
Hearing a faint noise at her front door, she sat up and listened. Again she heard the noise, a soft, but distinct, knock. Jennifer quickly put on her robe and ran to the door. Looking through the peephole, she saw Doug standing on her porch.
“Doug, what are you doing here?” she asked as she opened the door. “Is something wrong?”
“Hi, Jennifer. No, nothing’s wrong. I was thinking about what I said yesterday, and I know I made you upset. I just wanted to apologize. I seem to be doing a lot of that lately.”
“Don’t worry about it, Doug. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Do you mind if I come in a minute? I don’t want to let your warm air out.”
Jennifer hesitated. “I guess,” she stammered, “but just for a minute. The kids are still sleeping.”
Doug stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
“You’ve got a nice house,” he said, looking around.
“Thanks. I’d offer you some coffee, but I can’t seem to get the machine to work,” she said in a half-hearted attempt at humor.
“That’s fine. I’m learning to live without it. That and donuts, you know how cops are.”
Jennifer laughed. “Guess we’re all making sacrifices, aren’t we?”
Doug nodded. “I also wanted to see how your family is doing. You’ve got, what, four kids to take care of?”
“Three,” corrected Jennifer, “and we’re doing pretty good. My oldest son, David, has been helping the crew at the Shipley farm, about three miles south of here, and has been bringing some food home. Between that and the Anderson’s garden next door, we’re doing okay. We miss the meat, but we’re not starving.”
“Let me know if you need anything else,” offered Doug. “There’s a group of us going hunting on Friday. And Jacob May, the guy with the truck that runs, he’s been hitting the semi trucks on the freeway. Sometimes he comes back with big loads of food. Found a beer truck not too long ago and was pretty pleased with himself.”
“We heard his truck the other day and walked over to his house to visit. It was exciting to see a working vehicle. What does he want for what he finds?” asked Jennifer. “I don’t need the beer, but if he has food, I could obviously use that.”
“Gas is the big thing. He says if a person helps with gas, he’ll give them part of his load. If you sent your oldest boy, was it David?” Jennifer nodded. “Anyway, if you sent him along to work, he might give you a bigger share.”
“Thanks, Doug. I appreciate the information. We’ll have to see what gas we can come up with.”
“If you want, I can help you drain the gas tank of your car. I’ve helped a couple of people with that, and I’m getting pretty good at it. Just let me know.”
“That would be nice. I’ll check to see how much gas I have and let you know.”
Doug was standing by the door, trying to find something else to say when the basement door swung open and Spencer came wandering down the hall, rubbing his eyes. He saw Doug and stopped, eyeing him suspiciously, then walked over to Jennifer and hid behind her.
Doug spoke after an awkward silence. “Well, I guess I’d better get going. It’s been nice visiting with you,” he said as he reached for the door and pulled it open. “Will you be at the meeting on Wednesday?”
Jennifer struggled to stifle a yawn. “I plan to be.”
“Good, I’ll see you there then.”
Lubbock, Texas
Kyle awoke to the sound of a pot clattering to the floor in an adjoining room. He slowly opened his swollen eyes, cracking them enough to allow some light in and bringing on sharp, dagger-like pains in the back of his head, causing him to moan. He shielded his face with his arm and lay motionless on the bed while he waited for his eyes to adjust. Gradually the pain eased until he was able to take a look at his surroundings. He lay on a single bed in the corner of a small room. A desk pushed against the opposite wall was adorned with a lamp, a jar of pencils, and a digital clock with a blank display. The window above the desk was draped with simple, pink curtains that waved in the breeze and gave the room a rippling, pink tint.
Kyle pushed a yellow flowered sheet to the side, carefully swung his legs out of the bed, and eased into a sitting position. The pounding in his head was intense, so the movements he made were slow and deliberate. Once able to sit up, he leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees, letting his body adjust to being upright. His neck was stiff and sore, and his arms were scratched, bruised, and spotted with patches of dried blood. A quick inspection of his clothing showed that they were torn and dusty, and that the sheets of the bed were soiled with dirt and dried blood.
Using the wall beside the bed for support, Kyle stood up when he thought he was strong enough, but immediately felt the blood rush from his head, making him dizzy. He staggered across the room and grabbed the back of the chair by the desk to steady himself. When his balance returned, he stepped away from the desk, groaning as muscles he didn’t know existed called attention to the punishment they’d received.
Kyle slowly hobbled towards the bedroom door, holding the wall as he carefully stepped over blankets and a sleeping pad lying on the floor. He could hear voices on the other side of the door and was both curious and nervous to find out who they belonged to.
He twisted the handle and eased the door open, then held himself steady in the doorway. No more than a dozen feet away, at a simple kitchen table, three faces turned to watch him.
A burly, middle-aged, black man spoke up. “Good morning. How are you doin’?” he asked in a booming voice.
Kyle thought a second. “I guess that depends on how you look at it,”
he said. “Thanks to someone, you I suppose, I’m doing a lot better than I might otherwise be, but I really feel like crap, if you’ll forgive the expression.” Kyle spoke slowly and with great effort.
The man got up from the table and went to Kyle. He put an arm around Kyle’s waist and helped guide him towards the table. “My name’s Elijah,” he said. “It’s nice to finally be able to visit with you.”
The two men shuffled slowly across the kitchen floor. “I’m Kyle Tait. It’s a pleasure to meet you, although I can’t say much for the circumstances.”
“These are my children,” said Elijah. “That’s my daughter, Diana, and my son, Stevie.” He motioned to the girl and boy sitting at the table. “Stevie, get out of your chair so our guest can sit. You go get one out of your bedroom.”
The boy jumped up obediently and dashed from the room. Elijah helped lower Kyle into the empty chair, and Stevie returned seconds later dragging a metal folding chair behind him. “Don’t drag that chair, Son. You’ll scratch the floor,” said Elijah with a look of exasperation. “You should know better than that.”
Stevie lifted the chair and carried it the remaining few feet before setting it down beside Kyle at the table. “Sorry, Dad,” he said with a slightly masked grin on his face. “Didn’t mean to mess up our lovely kitchen floor,” he continued, looking at the tired, worn linoleum. His sister laughed and smacked him on his arm.
Elijah looked at the two of them and frowned. “Don’t be mocking me in front of our guest,” he said. “You could at least pretend to have some respect for your father.”
Kyle smiled along with the children, who could barely contain their laughter. He estimated Stevie to be about fourteen years old. His sister was older, probably nineteen or twenty. Both kids were neatly dressed, and by the look in their eyes, Kyle got the strong impression that they were fond of their father.
“Are you the one who took care of me last night?” Kyle asked Diana.
She nodded, embarrassed. “Yes, sir, I am.”
“I guess I need to thank you then,” Kyle continued. “It looks like you gave up your bed for me too.”
“It was no problem, sir,” she replied. “I’m glad I could help.”
Kyle turned to Elijah. “Thank you for bringing me into your home. I probably owe you my life.”
Elijah waved his hand in front of his face in a kind of “it was nothing” dismissal. “I was just in the right place at the right time,” he said. “That’s all.”
“I think it was a little more than that. I was getting worked over pretty hard. Not sure at what point it was you found me.”
“Dad used to be in the marines,” blurted out Stevie, “before he became a preacher. So first he kicked those guys’ butts, and then he brought you home. It was kind of like Jesus in the temple and the good Samaritan, all in one.” Stevie’s eyes twinkled as he summed up the story, smiling broadly at his father and obviously proud of what had transpired.
“Stevie’s a little dramatic in his storytelling, but I guess that’s the gist of it,” said Elijah with some embarrassment. “You must be hungry Kyle. Diana, get Mr. Tait some food, would you?”
Diana got up from the table and went to a small camp stove set up next to the kitchen window. “Do you like oatmeal?” she asked from across the room.
Kyle nodded, and soon there was a heaping bowl of oatmeal sitting in front of him. “So was that you I saw running towards me when I went down?” he asked Elijah.
Elijah nodded. “Stevie and I had just walked one of the ladies home from church. She was scared to be out alone; things have gotten a little rough, as you might have noticed.”
“Yeah, I got that impression,” said Kyle, gently probing a swollen eye.
“Anyway, we were heading home when I heard some noises and saw the three of them picking on you. Tried to get there before they did too much damage, but I’ve slowed down in my old age.”
“Did they hurt you?” asked Kyle.
“No. One of them threw a punch, but the old marine training came in handy. A couple of those guys already had a fair bit of blood on them. Looked like you had done some damage before you went down.”
“Maybe a little, but not enough,” Kyle said, then explained what had happened before Elijah’s arrival.
Elijah and his kids listened intently to Kyle’s story. Stevie was quite excited by the description of the fight. “Do you fight a lot?” Stevie asked.
“No.” Kyle said, shaking his head stiffly. “Not since I was in high school, and then just a couple of times. Do you know what happened to my cart?”
“It’s around the side of the building,” said Stevie. “My dad had me pull it home.”
“I figured it was something important,” said Elijah. “After your friends left, you kept mumbling about it. Couldn’t understand what you were saying for the most part, but I could see your cart down the street, and you kept going on about it, so I figured it meant something to you.”
“Yeah, it does. I’m heading to Montana, and I need it to haul my things.”
Elijah whistled. “Montana’s a long way away,” he said. “I guess that cart would be helpful.”
“We’ve been to Montana,” said Diana. “We went the summer before Mom died. She wanted to see Yellowstone Park. I don’t remember it too well, but we’ve got lots of pictures.”
“It’s a pretty part of the country,” said Kyle. “A lot more mountains than around here.”
Elijah burst out laughing. “That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one. Around here we call any hill over twenty feet a mountain. It sure was pretty country up there, but I’m guessing you’re not headed that way for the scenery.”
“No,” said Kyle. “My family’s in Missoula, Deer Creek, actually.”
Elijah nodded. “I figured that was it. I’m guessing there are a lot of displaced people right now, not knowing what to do. Where’d you start out?”
Kyle told them about his experience on the airplane, about traveling with Ed, and then leaving from San Angelo.
“Sorry things went bad for you here,” Elijah said when Kyle finished. “Lubbock’s a good town with good people. Don’t let those idiots you met yesterday make you think otherwise. I was born here and came back after I left the military. I expect I’ll probably die and be buried here as well.”
“Well, my first impression of Lubbock wasn’t so good, but it’s gone up considerably since then.”
“Good job, Daddy,” Diana teased her father, patting him on the back. “You should join the Chamber of Commerce, maybe make a commercial for the city.”
“See what I get to put up with?” Elijah said, giving his daughter a look. “She’s just like her mother. Makes fun of everything I do. Seriously though, you should be careful. People are scared and desperate and are doing some crazy things. We were all used to jumping in our cars and running to the store to fill up our refrigerators. All that went away in an instant, and we weren’t prepared for it.”
“You seem to be doing alright,” said Kyle. “How are you getting by?”
“I was in the military,” said Elijah. “I visited some pretty destitute countries and experienced some miserable things. I promised myself I’d be ready for anything if I made it home. We’ll be good for a few more weeks, but we’ve already talked about heading out of town to an uncle’s place. He’s got a farm east of here.”
“Why are you waiting?”
“I’ve got a congregation that I need to get situated before I go,” said Elijah, matter-of-factly. “The preacher can’t just take off and abandon his flock. What would the Lord think?”
“Hadn’t thought of that,” said Kyle. “How is your flock doing?”
“Scared and hungry,” answered Elijah. “At least the ones that I know about. I’ve got a lot of older people, and they’re not managing so well. Two of them have already passed away. Did one funeral on Saturday, and I’ve got one tomorrow. Probably another one will be gone in a few days, so it’s been a tough we
ek.” Elijah’s voice broke as he spoke, and he wiped at a tear with his hand. “Excuse me for getting emotional,” he said. “But it’s kind of like losing family.”
“Anything I can do to help?” Kyle asked. “I owe you my life. There must be some way I can repay you.”
Elijah shook his head. “No. I appreciate the offer, but you’ve got more important things to be doing, like getting on your way back to your family. Speaking of which, you need to eat and get cleaned up. How are you feeling?”
“Like I got run over. I don’t think there’s any part of me that doesn’t hurt. How do I look?”
“Real bad,” Stevie said. “Like you got run over.”
Diana smacked her little brother on the head. “Shut up, Stevie. That’s not nice,” she whispered to him loudly.
“But it’s true,” he retorted, rubbing his head and looking to his dad to scold his sister. Elijah just shrugged and gave him a “you deserved it” look.
Kyle swallowed a mouthful of oatmeal. “Don’t worry Stevie. I’m sure you’re right. I can tell by the lumps on my face that I look pretty bad.”
When he finished his food, Kyle excused himself and headed to the bathroom to clean up, armed with a bucket of water and a couple of washcloths that Diana had supplied him with.
Kyle closed the bathroom door and turned to the mirror. Staring back at him in the dim light coming through a small window over the toilet was a puffy-eyed, broken-down, old man. It took him a minute to catch his breath, and then he started to cry. Kyle dropped down onto the toilet and let the tears run. I’ve only been on the road five days, he thought, and I’m already a mess. How am I ever going to make it?
He heard a tapping on the door, and Diana called to him, “Are you alright in there?”
Kyle shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Yeah,” he called back, “I’m fine, just getting cleaned up.”
Kyle sat on the toilet pondering his situation for some time before standing in front of the mirror again. He dipped a washcloth in the bucket, wrung it out, and began to wipe away the grime. Starting with his forehead, he scrubbed the dirt out of his hairline and gingerly worked his way down his face. Dried blood stuck in wounds and creases and places that Diana hadn’t wiped the night before. He worked tenderly around his eyes, both of which were swollen and various shades of purple and blue. The left eye was worse then the right and hurt intensely as he cleaned it.