by John Sullins
Now, his body had healed about as much as it was going to heal. He had no money. His only possessions were the boots and clothing given to him by a local church group, and the toothbrush given to him by the hospital.
He stood in front of the mirror over the bathroom sink, and looked at himself. He was still six four, but he had lost a lot of weight. He had always taken pride in staying in shape but his once thick muscular shoulders had thinned during the weeks of no activity. His face was much thinner and he now had a burn scar the size of an egg on his right cheek. He ran the fingers of his right hand through is long brown hair and was pleased it was still there. His left hand was still bandaged from the last of three operations. He had use of the hand and fingers, but not nearly as much as before the fire and burns.
As he sat in the chair beside his bed lacing the tan military boots which were similar to the ones he wore before the fire, three young nurses came to the door of his room. Each were smiling, two had bags in their hands and one had a cardboard box.
“We know you lost everything Keith, so we’ve brought you a few things we thought you would need.”
One nurse, a cutie named Judith, stepped forward and sat a heavy duty construction grade trash bag at his feet. He smiled and lifted it onto his lap.
“Just what I need, a nice trash bag.” He opened the bag and lifted out a large brown suit case.
“We know you are going to try to get to Maine. We thought this would be something you could use. We were going to get you a back pack or pack frame but we thought they would hurt the burns on your back.”
“Thank you Judith, I really appreciate it.”
The next nurse, Ellie, brushed back the black bangs hanging over her forehead and handed him two plastic bags, one about half the size of the trash bag, the other small. He opened the larger one first and lifted out a grey hooded sweat shirt, an insulated nylon jacket, a knit hat and a pair of wool gloves. He opened the smaller bag and found it full of chocolate chip cookies.
She said, “I wish we could talk you into staying around here, at least until when it warms up in the spring, but if you insist on going, we want you to stay warm. I hope you don’t mind that they are all used, we got them from the thrift store. But they are in very good condition and I washed them myself.”
“I don’t mind used, thank you Ellie. They are very nice.”
Then the third nurse, Kathleen, one he thought he might like to get to know better if the circumstances were different, gave him the cardboard box. He saw tears in her eyes. The four flaps on the top of the box were folded one over the other so he could not see inside. He lifted one flap at a time and saw several smaller boxes and packages stacked neatly inside.
“Wow, you ladies are treating me better than I deserve. This is great.”
He lifted out a black leather sheath containing a five inch folding knife. He slid the knife from the sheath and saw a small spider logo in the center of the blade. He read the small print on the blade, “Spyderco CPM S30V. He was not an expert on knives, but as best he could tell, the knife was high quality with a keen edge. Attached in a narrow pocket of the sheath was a brass tube which when opened contained a diamond blade sharpener.
He next took out a small box and lifted off the top. Inside was a flint fire starting kit. He looked up and smiled at Kathleen who now had tears running down her cheeks. He lifted more items from the box one at a time; a small road atlas, a clear plastic package that contained a heavy duty rain poncho, three pair of wool socks, and a package of men’s underwear. He held them up for all to see.
“What are these for?”
The nurses laughed and Kathleen’s face turned red.
The last thing in the box was a small vinyl case which contained a new tooth brush, a small bottle of shampoo, and a bar of soap.
Kathleen said, “We forgot to get you a towel, but we won’t tell if you take the ones in the bathroom.”
“I can’t thank you ladies enough. These things will be a big help. I wish I could pay you for all of this.” He stood up and gave each a long hug.
Ellie and Judith left the room but Kathleen stayed and watched him load everything except the knife, hat and coat into the suit case. He laced the sheath and knife onto his belt and put on the coat and hat.
He took a long slow breath and stared at Kathleen. “If I did not have to go look for family, I’d stay and get to know you better.”
She wiped the tears on her cheek, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face into his chest and cried.
Chapter 3
He left the VA hospital in downtown Indianapolis and walked east on 10th street. He walked past dozens of closed businesses. Most had closed signs on the doors but some had plywood covering the windows similar to what he had seen years ago on the Florida coast when a hurricane was approaching. But the windows were not boarded because of a storm. They were boarded because the US economy had collapsed and not many people had money to spend.
As he continued east, thoughts of how long it would take him to get to Maine occupied his mind. When he and his lifelong friend, Jim, had left the Army last year, they made the trip from Georgia to Indiana the same way he was doing now to get to Maine. If that trip was any indication of what this one would be like, the trip was going to be a long slow adventure.
During that trip they walked for hours without seeing any passing cars. Most of the days none of the drivers stopped to give them a ride. Most of the gas stations and stores at the highway exits were closed and even though they had some money in their pockets, they were often unable to find a place to buy food.
The thought of having money on that trip caused him to stop in his tracks, “Money! I don’t have any money, not even one dollar.”
Without thinking and out of habit, he put his right hand into his pants pocket to double check for cash. The only thing in his pocket was lint. His thoughts then turned to what he was going to do about food. He wasn’t hungry yet, but later in the day, he was going to be hungry and tired. He knew he needed to keep his eyes open for a soup kitchen, a church, or a homeless shelter where he might be able to get food and spend the night.
But for now, the cold air felt good, especially on his face around the scar. His boots were comfortable and the exercise was a pleasant change from his walks around the halls of the hospital. His thoughts returned to Maine and what he would find there. He had no idea of where in Maine he would begin his search since he knew almost nothing about the state. He thought about the names of some of the larger cities in Maine. He could think of only two, Portland and Bangor. He was unsure but thought Portland was on the southern part of the state and Bangor was more in the center. He made a decision to start his search in Bangor.
He gave up looking for a place offering free food when he reached Central Ave only two blocks south of I-65. When he reached the interstate he dropped the suitcase onto the ground and took a break under the overpass as he waited for east bound cars which might provide him with a ride. He rested his feet on the suitcase and leaned back on the sloped concrete and looked up at the huge steel beams supporting the overpass. Sitting on the edge of the beams were dozens of pigeons. He smiled as he remembered the time when he, Jim and a friend named Nevel from their math class, had skipped school and spent the day shooting pigeons with Nevel’s air rifle.
Nevel’s father was an avid outdoors man and had taught him how to shoot and how to skin the animals he killed. He remembered plucking the feathers from the pigeons and roasting them over a small fire. As best he could remember the meat was all dark meat and it was tough. But back then, being a growing boy living in an orphanage, neither he nor Jim complained about the meat. As he watched the pigeons, he wished he had that air rifle with him now. He would shoot a couple of the birds and cook them right there under the overpass. But he had no air rifle. He thought about throwing a few rocks at the birds but knew it would be almost useless to try. He was more concerned about finding a warm place to sleep before it got dark than of
food.
When he heard the sound of a vehicle approaching from the west he stood up and held out his thumb.
The blue and white semi-truck honked its horn as it slowed to a stop just past the overpass. Keith picked up the suitcase and jogged to the passenger side door and swung it open.
The driver, a small Hispanic man of about 30 asked, “Where you headed?” His English was perfect.
“Maine.”
“Maine? That’s a long way from Indiana. I can take you as far as Pittsburg.”
“That will be great, I really appreciate it.”
“I’m Ernesto,” he reached his right hand towards Keith.”
“I’m Keith”
“I’m not sure how long it will take us, they are saying there’s snow starting around Columbus. It gets heavier east of there. Pittsburg is expecting a half a foot. When we get to the snow, I’ll be going very slow, can’t afford to put this rig in a ditch.”
Keith thought about having no money and the snow. “I’m in no hurry. It’s nice and warm in here.”
Chapter 4
Ernesto was correct with the weather prediction. They saw the first snow flake less than twenty miles west of Columbus. Within the hour the flakes got larger and soon was sticking to the highway. Ernesto drove slowly east on I-70 and it was getting dark when they neared Wheeling Ohio. The snow was four inches deep and the reflection of the falling snow in the headlights was making it difficult for him to see more than a few yards ahead of the truck.
“There is a rest stop on I-70 after we cross into Pennsylvania. I am going to stop there for the night because of the snow. You are welcome to sleep in that seat if you want. I’ll use the bed back there.” He used his thumb to motion behind him at a curtain and bed.”
Keith looked out at the snow, “That will be ok with me. I don’t want to be out there in that stuff. I’d never get a ride.”
The big truck came to a stop along with a few others in the rest area and Ernesto unbuckled his seat belt to get out. “The rest rooms are usually clean here if you need to go.”
“Yea, I might as well go now.” Keith opened his door and stepped out into the cold. He turned his jacket collar up tight against his neck to keep out the snow and put his hands into the jacket’s pockets to keep them warm. He was surprised when his fingers felt something like folded paper in the bottom of the right pocket. As soon as he entered the doors of the building he lifted out the paper expecting to see a candy wrapper or other trash. He looked down at what was in his hand and stopped in his tracks. It was not a candy wrapper or trash. It was money, folded over and held tight by a small paperclip. Under the paperclip was a scrap of paper with writing on it. He pulled the paper free and read the writing.
“Keith, we knew you had no money so we took up a collection to help you get to Maine. I hope this helps. Good Luck, Kathleen and the nurse team.”
He slid the paperclip off the bills and counted them, three twenties, one ten, two fives, and three ones. A total of $83.
Ernesto glanced at the money and then looked him in the eye, smiled and asked, “Did you rob a bank?”
Keith hesitated before responding, “I can’t believe this. I just got out of the hospital. I was broke. The nurses there gave me this jacket. They put this money in my coat. I can’t believe this.”
“My momma use to say that the lord works in mysterious ways. She’d say it was a payback for you helping someone in the past. You ever give money to anyone?”
Keith stood silent and thought about the woman he met at the grocery store the day before the fire. Her husband was a Marine stationed in Syria. He thought for a few seconds and remembered her name was Susan, and her baby daughter was Angel. That day he had given her forty of the eighty dollars in his wallet.
He did not answer Ernesto’s question or tell him about giving money to Susan. As Ernesto walked toward the men’s room, Keith looked around the building for the food vending machines and whispered, “Thank you Jesus.”
Chapter 5
Ernesto climbed into the sleeping berth and let out a long sigh. Keith leaned back in the passenger seat and watched the snow flutter down past a solar powered night light on top of a tall metal pole to his right.
“The snow is pretty. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of watching it.”
“Not me, I hate the stuff. It costs me money when it slows my deliveries. But my wife and kids love it.”
“How many kids do you have?”
“Two boys, seven and nine.”
Keith nodded silently.
Ernesto asked, “What about you? You got a family?”
“No……………….I grew up in foster homes and an orphanage. My father was killed in the Army and my mother died in a traffic accident, I think.”
Ernesto sat up and looked at the back of Keith’s head. “You’re not sure?”
Keith turned to face him. “I wish I knew. I don’t have any brothers, sisters or aunts or uncles. I don’t have any relatives that I know of. I have no one to ask.”
“Man, that’s tough. I love my family.”
“Keith wiped away some of the moisture building up on his window so he could see the snow. “Well, there is a chance I might learn about my ancestors when I get to Maine. A few months ago I was given names of my great-grandparents. I am going to Maine to see what I can learn about them. I hope I will find a distant cousin or someone.”
He laughed softly, “I just hope that if I find a relative, they are not in prison or a mental hospital.”
Ernesto laughed. “I know what you mean with that. A long time ago my grandpa told me that my great- grandfather’s brother was a murderer.”
“A murderer? Who did he murder?”
“From what I can remember being told is that he came here illegally from Mexico and traveled the inter-state highways killing people.”
“Did he go to prison?”
“No, a bounty hunter beat him to death with a rock, up in Minnesota or Missouri. I was about ten when I was told the story, so I’m not sure where he was killed. They say he hated gringos.”
Keith leaned closer to Ernesto, “You don’t hate gringos do you? Do I need to sleep with one eye open?”
“No need to worry. I like everybody!”
Keith wiped the window again and looked up towards the light. He thought about the odds of his great- grandmother Sue or great-grandfather Ralph being the one who beat the man to death with a rock.
Chapter 6
The combination of the cramped space and Ernesto’s snoring kept him from falling asleep. He sat quiet and watched the snow accumulate on the hood of the truck and the parking lot. He tried to avoid thinking about Jim and the others who had died in the fire by forcing himself to repeat the names of his ancestors and trying to imagine what was ahead of him when he got to Maine.
Was he wasting his time and effort? Where would he begin? He did not know a lot about Maine except that the northern part of the state was very remote and not thickly populated. One of the men in his Army unit grew up in Maine and sometimes talked about his family’s isolated lake cabin.
But what he really needed to know was where his great-grandmother had been sheriff. He thought about the possibility of going to a library or someplace with a computer and looking for a list of names of past sheriffs in Maine. But not knowing when she was sheriff, the search might not be easy. He closed his eyes and patiently calculated the probable years. One of the few things he thought he remembered being told about his mother was that she was only 17 when he was born.
“This is 2085. I was born in 2059. If my mom was really 17, that means she was born in 2041 or 2042.”
He knew nothing about his grandmother, but he continued the math.
“If she gave birth at 20, she would have been born in 2021, if she was 30 it would have been in 2011. If my great-grandmother also gave birth when she was 20, she would have been born between 1991 and 2001.”
He was guessing at their ages so he thought, “My great
-grandmother could have been born as early as about 1989 if they were both 25 when they gave birth. If they had not given birth until they were 30, then my great-grandmother would have been born in about 1979.”
Then he thought about how old she might have been when she became sheriff.
“She would have to have been at least 25, probably closer to 30 or 35. If she was born in 1979 and was only 25 when she became sheriff, that would make it 2004. If she was born in 1989 and was 35 when she became sheriff, that would make it 2024. So I need to check the years of 2004 to 2024.”
He rubbed his temples with his fingertips, “I’ve got myself so confused I don’t know what I am thinking.”
Chapter 7
When Ernesto drove back onto the interstate from the rest area, the snow was close to ten inches deep. There were tires tracks in the right lane but none in the center or left lane. He kept the truck in the right lane and drove slowly. They saw no cars and only three other semi-trucks the entire morning.
Keith said, “I was told that before the economy collapsed, these interstate highways were full of vehicles.”
Ernesto looked into the outside rear view mirror. “Yea, my grandfather told me there use to be gas stations and places to eat at almost every highway exit.”
Keith looked across an open field to his right as they passed the next exit. “There are two or three places right there, they are all closed.”
“I don’t mind the food places being closed as much as the gas stations or the electricity being rationed. Gramps told me that when he was growing up it was on all day every day. Now, we get electricity only three to four hours a day, depending on the city.”
“Even if the gas stations were open and had gas, most people can’t afford it. I wonder how you can afford to run this truck.”