Wounded

by Percival Everett

  “We’re getting married, too,” Morgan said.

  I smiled at her. It was the perfect thing to say. It eased the tension in the room and served to bring me back to the positive stuff in my life.

  “Yes,” I said. “Somehow I managed to trick her into it.”

  Gus stuck his head into the room and announced dinner, stating that it would be served in the main dining room.

  “He’s referring to the kitchen,” I said.

  At the table we sat in a painful stew of silence. The elk stew and the potato pancakes and the asparagus might have been as delicious as it all looked, but I could not taste any of it. I was worried about David and about what Howard might say and about what Howard would say and about what Gus might say as he watched Pamela lean her breasts over the table as she reached for the bread.

  “Mother’s fine,” David said, for no apparent reason. Except that the reason was all too apparent.

  “I’m glad to hear that, son,” Howard said. Then, “Gus, this meal is fantastic. What kind of meat is in this stew?”

  “Elk.”

  “You hear that, Pammy? Elk. We’re on the frontier.”

  We were having wine with dinner and David was on his third glass. I didn’t know how to slow him down. Then Gus caught his eye and said, “Go easy on the wine, son.”

  “David,” Howard said. “I need to tell you something.”

  “What? That you’re going to marry Pammy here?” David laughed, but the silence that followed his comment made him silent, too. “You’re not serious.”

  “I’m very serious,” Howard said. “Pamela and I have thought about it and we’ve decided it’s the right thing to do.”

  “What do you know about the right thing to do?” David said.

  “Son,” Howard said.

  “Don’t son me.” David shot me a glance, as if for help. “You haven’t asked me once how I’m doing. I mean, really asked me. Well, I’ll tell you. I broke up with Robert and I’m in a lot of pain.”

  “Robert,” Howard said with disdain. “There will be other Roberts and there will be more pain. I don’t understand the Robert thing.”

  “Of course you don’t,” David said. “You don’t want to understand. You won’t try to understand.”

  “Have you ever been with a girl?” Howard asked.

  I scooted back from the table, my chair making the sound I wanted. “David, we’d better go check on the animals. It’s going to be a rough night out there.”

  David studied my eyes for a second. I could feel the breath he let out. “I’ll grab my jacket,” he said.

  The frigid wind was blasting through the barn. I pushed the north door closed after us. With the wind-tunnel effect gone, we were immediately more comfortable and we could hear each other.

  “Let’s check everybody’s water and blankets,” I said.

  “Can you believe what you just heard?” David asked.

  “I’m sorry, David.”

  “That woman is younger than I am,” he said. “Roberts.” David shook his head and then let out a scream.

  I turned to a rustling sound and found the mule standing in an open stall. I chuckled.

  “What is it?” David asked.

  “This mule may be a lot of things, but he’s not stupid. Throw him some hay and close him in.” I looked down the barn line. “Then we’ll walk the outside and make sure the outer stall doors are shut tight.”

  “What should I do?” David asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I suppose you can decide that though he’s your father, he doesn’t have to be your friend. You don’t need his approval. You might want it; that’s another thing. But you don’t need it.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “And it was easy to say. Don’t use me as any source of wisdom, David. Just remember: There is a large bird called a pelican, whose mouth can hold more than his belly can; he can hold in his beak enough food for a week and I don’t know how the hell he can.”

  “What’s that supposed to tell me?” he asked.

  “That’s my point, son.” I slapped his shoulder. “Now, let’s finish out here before I freeze in place.” I could feel the work calm David, but the cold still drove us back to the house.

  The whisky bottle was now on the table. Pamela and Howard were sitting next to each nursing glasses. The woman was making a fuss over the puppy, but Emily kept her distance, hanging tight to Gus’s legs while he washed dishes.

  “It’s bad out there,” I said. “We must have six inches already. Where’s Morgan?”

  “Upstairs,” Gus said.

  David walked to the table and poured himself a tall Scotch.

  “Well, at least drink it slow,” Howard said. “This is beautiful stuff. Aged in—” He stopped and turned to Pamela. “What kind of barrels?”

  “Cherrywood.”

  “Cherrywood barrels.” I could hear that Howard was tipsy.

  To which David responded, “Fuck you.”

  Howard looked at Pamela, wide-eyed, then laughed. The woman laughed with him.

  David walked out of the room.

  Gus tossed his towel onto the counter and said, “That’s it for me.”

  “You’re not staying up for midnight?” Pamela asked.

  “Nothing happens at midnight,” Gus said. “Nothing that can’t happen at ten o’clock or tomorrow morning. Good night, all.”

  “Good night, Gus,” I said.

  “Yeah, thanks for a great meal,” Howard said.

  “Thank you,” from Pamela.

  Gus left.

  “You’re not turning in, too, are you?” Howard asked me.

  “As a matter of fact. This snow is going to make a lot of work for me in the morning, so I’m advised to get some sleep.”

  “Boo,” said Pamela.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Good night.”

  I walked out, looked down the hall and saw that David’s door was closed. I then climbed the stairs to find Morgan sitting on the bed. I sat beside her and asked what she was thinking about.

  “Mother,” she said.

  I put my arm around her. “It’s a tough time, these holidays.”

  “Poor David,” she said.

  “No kidding.”

  “Are they drunk yet?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “I can’t believe that you even know that man, much less that he’s a close friend.”

  “Apparently, I don’t know him.” I got up, walked to the window, and watched the snow sift through the light of the vapor lamp on the barn. “Hopefully the snow will die down tonight, the roads will get plowed, and they’ll be out of here tomorrow.”

  “Are you going back down there?” she asked.

  “Do I look like I’ve just lost my mind? No, I say let’s get all snuggly in bed and pretend that we’re somewhere else.”

  “Like the Arctic?”

  “That works.”

  The snow had done its job and made the world quiet. Momentarily. I awoke to shouting. Something like: “Fuck you!” and “Fuck you, too!” I sat up and looked at the clock; it was about midnight. Morgan awoke as well. She looked at me and tried to orient herself. She sat up.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “I think Howard and David are fighting.”

  Then Pamela’s voice split the deeper ones, “Stop it!”

  “Shut up,” David shouted.

  Then there was a silence.

  I stepped to the door and opened it. Gus was standing inside his open door across the hall.

  “Sounds bad,” he said.

  A door slammed. I wondered if I should go down. If David had just closed himself up in his room, then it might all be over. I certainly didn’t want to hear anyone’s side of anything right then.

  “I guess that’s it,” I said.

  Gus closed his door and I went back to bed.

  “Come in here and get warm,” Morgan said.

  We started to kiss. I held Morgan and told her I lov
ed her and I managed to get off her nightshirt. We had quiet, slow sex and then we lay in bed, watching the snow.

  About a half-hour later there was a crash, breaking glass. Then a man’s voice cried out.

  “Good lord,” I said. I threw back the covers and we got dressed. Gus followed us down the stairs and into the living room. The Scotch bottle was shattered on the floor and Howard was sitting on the sofa picking a shard of glass from his foot.

  “What the Sam Hill?” Gus asked.

  “I dropped the bottle,” Howard said. “Stepped on some glass.”

  “Is it bad?” Pamela asked.

  I looked down the hall and saw that David’s door was open and the light was on. “Where’s David?”

  “He stormed out of here,” Howard said. “He drank some more whisky and got drunk and just stormed out.”

  “When?” I asked.

  “Awhile ago,” he said.

  Gus went into the kitchen and came back. “His jacket’s in the mud room.”

  “Damnit!” I said. “Howard, why didn’t you tell me!”

  “So, he ran outside.”

  “It’s ten-below out there.” I looked at Morgan. “I’ll look in the barns and you look around the outside of the house.”

  “What’s going on?” Howard asked, beginning to understand that the situation was dire. He tried to focus on me through his drunkenness.

  “Your son is out there with no coat and no boots, man.” I turned to Gus. “Make some coffee and try to sober them up.”

  I pulled on my boots and parka and went out to the barns. I went through both twice and saw no sign of him. As I trotted back to the house I saw that the south gate was swinging with the wind. The gate had been closed. I sprinted back to the house.

  Morgan was back inside. She shook her head.

  Howard was shaking now, not from the cold, but from the realization of what had happened.

  “Gus, I want you and Morgan to take the Jeep and drive up to the road, watch the sides. I’m going to ride south and search that way.”

  Morgan was terrified. I kissed her forehead.

  By the time I had saddled the App and was traveling south toward the hills, an hour and a half had passed since the slamming of the door, plenty of time for hypothermia to set in, especially with the alcohol in him. I hoped that his youth and strength would help him. I also hoped that he was just yards from the gate and not miles. The beam of my flashlight was useless and so I moved slowly, trying to let my eyes adjust and hoping the horse could see better than I. I called out.

  Finally my eyes were serving me and I could see the shapes of trees and tops of ridges. I rode faster. Ice formed in my moustache. I rode a few miles, feeling completely useless and helpless. Then the horse shied. I brought her back around and tried to see what had spooked her. I was in some trees and I shone my light at the bases of them. I dismounted and took a few steps.

  There was David. He raised a weak hand into my light. He was stiff with cold. His clothes were wet. I was so scared I was hopping in place, wondering what to do, trying to get my bearings. I looked down the slope and spotted the shape of a fallen tree that I had seen many times; I’d used it as a mile marker. I was about four miles from my house. I was about a mile from the cave. I pulled David up and over my shoulder and eased him over the saddle. I walked the horse to the cave and brought her in out of the snow. The complete darkness made her jumpy and I tried to calm her. I got David down and checked him with my light. He was blue. His respiration was shallow. His clothes were soaked through. I put my hand on his stomach and it was ice cold. I wanted to build a fire, but I had no dry wood. I had to get the wet clothes away from his skin. I took him deeper into the cave, away from the opening and the wind. I took off his shirt and pants and socks and underwear; everything was soaked. Then I took off my clothes that were wet on the outside as well. I needed to use my body heat to warm him up. I needed to use the warmest thing I could find and that was my own 98.6 degrees. I pressed myself against him, rubbing his iced fingers in my hands, putting them in my armpits, blowing on them. He was shivering like no one I had ever seen, his teeth chattering, his eyes rolling back and showing white. “Come on, David, stay with me.” I tried to warm his feet with my own. I thought that if he only lost some toes he’d be lucky. I kept talking to him. “It’s going to be all right, son, hang on.” I put my cheek on his.

  He began to mutter things, more sounds than words. I tried to take that as a good sign. David moved his face to in front of me and he pressed his icy lips against mine. It took me a few seconds to realize it was a kiss. I had never been so confused. I let him kiss me, felt his shivering face soften to mine. I just wanted him warm, warmer. I couldn’t pull away; I was trying to save his life.

  ELEVEN

  I COULD SEE a bit of gray on the wall of the cave. Morning was trying to press inside. David was asleep. Still, I couldn’t see his face, but his breathing was strong. I turned on my light and studied him. I didn’t shine the beam down to his feet; I wasn’t ready for that. His stomach was no longer like ice. The constant temperature of the cave had saved both of us. I dressed and walked toward the entrance. It was early and I could see that the snow had stopped falling. The horse was standing calm just inside the mouth, her head low. I felt bad for having left her not only with the saddle but cinched tight. I released the girth and stroked her neck. I went back to David and woke him. He was groggy, but he sat up. He asked where he was.

  “We’re in a cave,” I said.

  “A cave?”

  I imagined he felt his body and realized he was naked. “John, what’s going on here?”

  I turned my light on again. “You got drunk, had a fight with your father, ran out into the snow with sneakers and no jacket, I followed you into the woods, found you, and brought you here to get warm.”

  “I’m naked.”

  “You were soaked.”

  He was quiet while he sat there reconstructing the previous night, the flashlight illuminating the ceiling. “I got drunk,” he said.

  “I’ll say.”

  “Where am I?” he asked again.

  “I brought you into this cave to get warm. It was closer than the house. How do you feel?”

  “I don’t know.” I thought I heard him start to cry. He grabbed his shirt from near him on the ground and pulled it over his lap. “My toes hurt.”

  “We’ll have to look at them later,” I said. “I’ve got to get you back to the house. You’re going to wear my boots.”

  “I didn’t wear boots?” he asked.

  “Like I told you, you ran out in your sneakers.” I was concerned that he still seemed disoriented.

  “Shit.”

  I nodded. “It’s relatively warm in here,” I told him. “But it’s freezing out there. We’re lucky, at least the snow has stopped. There are some people worried to death about us.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about that now. Let’s just get home. Get dressed. Put on my jacket as well.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m in better shape than you are, that’s for sure. Just do like I said. Get dressed and meet me over by the entrance.”

  “My toes really hurt,” he said.

  I put the light on them. They were frostbitten, that was certain. I didn’t know how badly. And since I didn’t know, it was unclear to me whether I should try to thaw them out or leave them alone. I took off my socks. “Here put these on. Yours are still wet.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll wear your sneakers. Now, hurry up.”

  I was tightening the cinch when he joined me. He could barely walk. The front of his clothes were open.

  “I can’t do the buttons,” he said. “My fingers hurt.”

  I fastened up his trousers, shirt, and jacket.

  I stuck a sneakered foot in the stirrup, thankful that his feet were slightly larger than mine, climbed up into the saddle, and then leaned down to help him onto the hors
e behind me. He was staring at my eyes and I was fairly sure he was remembering having kissed me.

  “Come on, son, I’ve got to get you someplace warm, both of us someplace warm.” He took my arm. “Put your foot in the stirrup,” I said. I pulled him up. “We’re not going to ride fast, but it’s steep in places, so hold tight.” His clasped his hands around my waist. I rubbed the App’s neck. “Sorry, old girl.”

  We rode off. The sky was clear and the snow was deep in places. My bare feet in the sneakers were aching and I could only imagine what they would have felt like sunk down into the snow and what David’s feet must have felt like. There was not much wind at first, but when we came around the last turn and started down the hill, a breeze tore through my shirt and reminded me of all sorts of things. I was sick with the fact that Morgan and Gus would be worried. I was concerned about the horse; I wanted to bring her into the house. I was concerned about David’s fingers and toes. The cold air made my nipples as tight and painful as I had ever felt them. But now I could see the house and so some kind of end. “There’s the house,” I said.

  David didn’t respond. I could feel his breathing, but I couldn’t tell whether he was asleep or unconscious. As much as I hated to, I asked the App to trot across the big meadow. She was huffing.

  I hit the south gate and saw a sheriff’s rig parked by the house. I called out and Morgan came blasting through the back door, calling out behind her for Gus. Gus and Bucky followed and they ran to us. Bucky and Gus took David down. He was just awake and again trying to get his bearings. They helped him into the house. Morgan helped me out of the saddle, hugged me tightly.

  “Into the house,” she said.

  “The horse,” I said. I loosened the girth.

  “I’ll take care of the horse,” she said. “She can stand for a minute.”