Blood, Dreams, and Olive Drab (Pride & Promise)

by Michael Meissner

  A lazy tear slipped over Johnny’s cheek. He watched as his sister never once looked at him and just kept her back to him. He could see the tension in her forearms and from behind the muscles of her back, shoulders, and neck were like marble. He reached out with one mighty paw and tugged on her dress but she, of course, pulled away. This was not funny. She should not be toyed with, for this was no joke.

  She was pleading for a job from her own brother as if she had nowhere else to turn. She was not about to let her own flesh and blood make a mockery of her dilemma. The proud and fiery woman did not know that Johnny already knew the story. He knew the lead-in, the fight, and the carnage that his poor sister was left to rebuild. Johnny slid off the stack of crates he sat upon and took his sister in his arms and she tried to pull away. But he did not wane. He pulled with more of his might and she fell back into his waiting arms and then she drenched his shirt with her tears as she pounded his chest.

  "Damn it, damn it, damn it!" she bellowed, each sound drowning in her sorrows. "I need a job! I don’t want to search or beg and I don’t want to go pleading to each storeowner in town and have them look at me with those sheepish looks and hurtful eyes and take pity on the poor woman whose husband ran off. He was the town drunk, the mangler, and the man who just disappeared in the night leaving his wife and kids."

  She was pounding her fists against Johnny and he held her at arm’s length, letting her drive her fists into his chest. The anger in her never subsided but she just lost the strength to hit anymore and she collapsed. He embraced her and realized that her feet were not even on the ground. She had lost herself and was just a hapless willow in his mighty grasp. Johnny pulled her close and her head just dropped onto his chest, like a tall tree falling slowly forward till it came to rest against his shoulder.

  "You can start whenever you feel up to it, Sis," Johnny whispered with a tender breath. He lightly placed his lips upon her brow, placing a warm kiss onto her cool damp forehead. He stood there and held her for some time as the ringing of the bell at the front door chimed constantly.

  .....

  Angela walked into the house with a bit of pep in her step and she felt easiness in her stride that she had not felt in quite some days. Even as the door slammed closed behind her in the sweeping wind of the valley, she could breathe deep with a sense of relief.

  "Sarah? Sarah?" she called down the hall and her eldest daughter came chattering from around the corner, lighthearted and jovial as ever. She walked over towards her mother but with the eyes of a beagle, she could see a tad of consternation in her mother’s eye.

  "Yes, Mama," Sarah said with trepidation, searching her mother’s way for an answer to the subtle rouged look in Angela’s deep eyes.

  "Let’s go outside and talk." She laid her arm over Sarah’s shoulder and gently led her outside.

  The two women walked out the door and let it slam once again and started to stroll off the porch and down the lane. Enough light was still drifting in the air to play with the leaves. It sunned the undersides and danced brilliantly against the glossy skeletons of the leaves till you could see the thin golden veins. Sarah soon grew itchy and lightly shrugged her shoulder till Angela’s arm fell from her shoulder.

  "What is it, Mama?" Sarah asked.

  "Well, I wanted to talk to you about something, something I’ve been thinking about for quite some time." Angela stopped and turned towards her daughter. The sunlight beamed off her cheek casting a long shadow over her opposite brow and cheek. "Your Uncle Johnny has been kind enough to let me work at the butcher shop." Her joy was contagious and instantly Sarah felt a sense of glee spread over her.

  "Mama, that’s great!" Sarah thrust herself towards her mother and wrapped her arms around her waist.

  "Thank you, dear," Angela said, taking Sarah into her arms and lightly running her fingers through the length of Sarah’s hair. She felt a warmth start to build within her and spread to her arms and legs.

  "Are you still going to come see me at Happy Days when I sing?" Sarah said nonchalantly.

  "Sarah, that is what we need to talk about," Angela began hesitantly, choosing her words carefully before she shattered the girl’s world.

  "What, Mama?" Sarah leaned back and gazed with dejected eyes into her mother’s face. With a glazed and confused look, her wounded heart seeped from her eyes. "You're not going to tell me I can’t sing there, are you, Mama?" Her lips began to quiver and her face blurred with hurt.

  "Sarah," Angela began, desperately searching for words, "I just don’t think it is a good place for a girl, let alone you. You saw what happened to me there, and I’m sure you have been able to figure it out that being your father’s daughter is not a good thing at Happy Days."

  "But, Mama, Mama, please," Sarah began to whimper on the damp feather of her words. "You can’t take away my dream," she breathed.

  "Sarah, I’m not taking away your dream." Angela stared into her daughter’s woebegone face and could feel Sarah’s hurt. It dug deep into Angela’s soul.

  "Mama," the timbre of Sarah’s voice began to tremble and the air began to swirl about them nearly laced with a bitter chill.

  "I’m trying to protect you, Sarah." Angela felt her body shaking as she looked upon her daughter. Sarah just stood flat-footed and crestfallen before her.

  "Protect me, Mama?" Sarah began to blubber slightly, till the sharpness of her words was marred by her quivering lips.

  Then Angela turned away. She could not face the pain of her daughter. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t have the courage.

  "Mama, please!" Sarah beseeched her mother, lightly stepping forward till she stood directly behind her mother, so close that her breath cascaded over Angela’s neck.

  "No, Sarah," Angela said boldly. "I couldn’t live with myself if something were to happen to you there, I just couldn’t."

  "But, Mama, nothing will happen to me," Sarah offered sheepishly with the resilience and ignorance of youth.

  "Sarah," Angela sighed deeply, "I wish it was that easy, I truly do. One thing I’ve learned in life is it’s not the things we see coming in life that harm us, but it’s the things that come from nowhere and we never expect--they cause us the most trouble. Throughout my life I’ve never planned on doing anything wrong or having pain, but just look at my life and all the sadness I’ve seen and felt. I truly want to help you avoid the same destiny. I know I can’t stop it all, but I’m trying to at least push you in the right direction. I’m not trying to take away your dream . . . I’m trying to offer you other dreams," she professed. Angela turned about to face Sarah as the sun was beginning to flee and long shadows leaned across the dirt.

  "But, Mama, I don’t want to do anything else. I can’t do anything else," Sarah relented with a joyless frown.

  "Sure you can, sweetie. We’ll find you something," Angela reassured as a grin tried to curl up her tired cheeks.

  "Mama, it makes me feel good to sing. Papa was good with his hands, you are good with people, Bernice can make people laugh, and Clarene--well, Clarene is Clarene. But I’ve got no talent. All I’ve got is singing and it makes me feel good about myself," Sarah opined with passion surging from her soft tones.

  "Sarah, something else will come along and make you feel good about yourself," Angela uttered. All the while a voice haunted Angela’s mind and Sarah could see the falsehood in her mother’s serious face as trivialness faded over Angela’s listless gaze.

  "Maybe it won’t," Sarah muttered as she looked away to the growing darkness of the tree line.

  Angela tried to reach out for her daughter, but Sarah vanished beneath the missed grasp of her mother’s hands. Angela’s fingers swiped through the air again, catching only the web of black that clung to the night. As she stared into the mist, all she could hear was the sobbing of her daughter as she dashed through the woods and vanished into the somber arms of the forest.

  .....

  Sarah came bursting out of the darkness like a horse from the gate. She s
tood rigidly but with a shudder. Now her anxious body was within a step of the arc from the dim light that emanated off the single light bulb above the door of Happy Days Bar. Quickly, she dashed for the back door and just as she was about to pound on the door, it swung open and her fist nearly crashed down upon Liam’s face.

  "Whoa, whoa, child!" Liam raised his old hands before him and stopped Sarah.

  "Mr. Cass," Sarah blurted, her lungs still searching for the breath to be able to talk, "you’ve got to let me sing tonight, you’ve just got to!" She continued to beg with a sorrowful desperation on her face.

  "Child, why do you need to sing tonight?" Liam asked with a dry indifference to his tone. With his shoe he scraped a rock across the ground and nudged it between the door and the door frame, trying to keep the door from locking behind him. Liam brought a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and placed one upon his lip. He struck a match and as he moved the match to his face, the shallow glow illuminated his face. You could see his tired and wounded eyes and the wrinkles and scars that etched his old face.

  "I need to get out of this town and away from these people, Mr. Cass. I feel like I’m smothered here and I can’t even get my breath," Sarah gasped, her words and face glazed with nervousness.

  "Now, child," Liam took a long delayed drag off his cigarette and a bright orange glow shed a bit of light over his face, "I’ve played just about every honky-tonk, jazz club, smoky room, and street corner across this land, and it is a great big land, but you know this is where my roots were made and where my feet feel most at home. After all those years of roaming, my bones feel most comfortable around these parts. So why do you want to go and leave?"

  "But . . . but . . . ," Sarah was slightly dumbfounded, "at least you got to make that decision. You got to see this country and then make up your mind. It’s like my mind has already been made up for me and I don’t want to lose my only chance." She took a step away from the building and walked into the crowning dull glow that bled down from the night sky. "I’m not really the college type," she began to share with a sadness to her words. "I’m not going to work for some big company that can send me around the world. All I’ve got is my voice--and maybe nothing else! You can’t stop me from at least trying, Mr. Cass," Sarah continued. Her heart dropped farther into her chest with each word as she felt empty and worthless inside. "Mr. Cass, I just want to lose myself in the music. I just want a change in my life," Sarah said as she was mired in thought about her traumatized world.

  "Child, don’t lose yourself," Mr. Cass said.

  "I don’t understand, Mr. Cass." A confused fog wafted across Sarah’s perplexed face.

  "You don’t lose yourself in the song, child. Maybe you need to find yourself," Mr. Cass proposed.

  "If you give me a chance, Mr. Cass, I’ll try my best," Sarah promised. A glimmer danced about her trying eyes.

  "All right, child," Liam relented, taking the last drag off his cigarette.

  "Really, really, Mr. Cass?" Sarah asked with a dizzying happiness.

  "Where is your mother, child?" Mr. Cass inquired, not wanting to really know the answer.

  "Oh, she knows I’m here," Sarah blathered, feeling a bit of perspiration trickle from her brow.

  "This late?" Liam questioned with a furrowed brow.

  "Oh, sure, sure she does," Sarah admonished, feeling a hint of terror quake through her nervous body.

  "You mean to tell me . . . after everything that has gone on, that she is going to let you come here this late and sing, and sing here most of all? Is that what you are telling me, child?" Liam leaned back and the soft golden light shed a bit of color to his dark skin.

  "Yes, Mr. Cass, she is fine with it," Sarah said boldly and she straightened her back and nearly pushed past the open door into the fog of the smoke-filled room.

  "All right then," Liam Cass chuckled to himself and followed her into the bar, shoving the rock from the foot of the door and letting it slam closed behind him.

  Liam sat behind the piano. The vapor of his cigarette climbed and mixed with the dense cloud of smoke that hovered around the bar, clung to the rafters, settled about the bar stools, and spread through the room. The bar crowd was their normal raucous selves. Men and woman of suspect morals came to this bar to get drunk and wallow in their sorrows in cheap beer and liquor that made their lives manageable for a few more hours or one more night.

  Sarah stood in the middle of the small stage with her hands wrapped tightly around the microphone stand, holding onto it as if it was a lifeline in the torturous sea that was her lonely existence. In her mind, it was the only way out. She glanced over the crowd but only a few of the drunkest bums even knew a young girl had made her way onto stage. The rest of the hoard just continued drinking and bellowing loud obnoxious items back and forth. A shove there, a fist thrown there, and that was how it usually started.

  Amidst all the carousing, Sarah could barely hear that Mr. Cass had started letting his fingers waltz across the ivories of the piano. She looked at him desperately and she could read his thick lips as he mouthed the words, "Gotta start somewhere, child." He grinned brightly and his haggard face lost a few wrinkles as his lips parted.

  Sarah started to sing, trying to keep time with the melody, and she looked out at the crowd and now not even the drunkest of people were watching. She could feel her hands trembling and a bubble of fear was building within her--and she thought it would burst. She closed her eyes and just let the music begin to fill her soul as her voice climbed a couple octaves. She began to belt out the lyrics!

  Within a few seconds she opened her eyes and the crowd was hushed and the only sound in the room was the elegant timbre of her voice. In the ghostly illuminants of the room, a place where light and shadows mingled together and danced meagerly among the patrons, Sarah could see all the dark brooding eyes start staring up at her. At first they had hate and ambivalence in their faces, but as she surged on, she saw a softness start to part the ugliness in their faces. Soon they all looked upon her with great intent and an eager silence. Men stopped drinking, woman stopped swearing, and now no one moved, not even a shuffle, and the room was as calm as a summer’s night.

  The front door of Happy Days opened quickly and then slammed shut. A tall rather striking man walked in. His dress army uniform quickly set him apart from the crowd and he immediately realized all eyes were staring daggers at him. He moved quickly with stealthy confidence towards the bar, trying to blend in with the crowd that quickly looked away from him and was once again spellbound by Sarah. But young Sarah never looked away from the man in the dress army uniform.

  She brought her song to a close with a whispering hush of a tone and for a second no one cheered or booed. This was a place of ill repute, a place for hussies and louts to get drunk and find some meaningless love. They were not used to being entertained, especially by someone who looked wholesome and innocent. For a brief time they didn’t know what to think. Then a smattering of applause started to circle the room as if it were the first couple raindrops amidst a drought, like a few claps plucking amongst the canopy of tall trees and then landing softly in the tall grass. Before Sarah knew it, those few rain drops of applause were a deluge of cheers. And the masses were pleased, very drunkenly pleased!

  Sarah glanced over at Liam and from behind the keys of the piano he winked at her and she winked back. She stepped down off the stage and wiggled her way through the crowd, half of which were still not sure what they had just watched, but whatever it was, they knew they liked it. Trying to calm her still trembling hands, Sarah stood at the bar and got a glass of water. She could feel the presence of someone standing next to her--she knew not who, but she definitely knew she liked his aura.

  "You’ve got a beautiful voice," said a strong voice that was just loud enough to be heard above the roar of the crowd.

  "Thank you." Sarah took a sip of her water and turned to the man next to her.

  It was the man who had entered the bar during her song. His dress u
niform stood out in this bar like a flood light on a dark night. Sarah liked him instantly.

  "It’s nice to see someone have passion about something and you can truly tell you have a passion about your singing," he shared, feeling a bit embarrassed for his words.

  "I hope my passion can take me someplace." Sarah shrugged her shoulders.

  "I hope it takes you everywhere you want to go," the soldier offered. His face parted with great warmth as his white teeth peeked out from under his thin lips. He turned his head as he felt a bit of nervousness in his body and anxiety suddenly overwhelmed him enough that he had to look away. As he glanced in the other direction, the light of the room cast a white silhouette over his chiseled chin and Sarah could see his sharp keen eyes.

  "I hope so, too," Sarah said softly.

  If you were standing nearby, you would have felt the electricity that seemed to draw these two souls together. It was enigmatic, as if they were two lightning rods atop a tall building just waiting for a strike, a single bolt of hope to come roaring down from the sky and light their lives with a chance.

  "I’m Henry Schott." The man looked back and offered his hand for Sarah.

  "Nice to meet you, I’m Sarah O’Grady." Sarah nearly fluttered off the ground as she shook the soldier’s hand.

  The two young souls stood there in an anxious silence for quite some time. Sarah sang a few more songs and each time the room quieted as if she were parting the red sea. Each time she finished, the crowd respectfully cheered with a crazed delight before they went back to their debauchery.

  Sarah would float back to the bar and stand with not many words and fling just a few sheepish glances at her new friend, Henry Schott. She liked Henry Schott and she believed he liked her, too. Just a few short hours before, Sarah believed this small town offered nothing but a cage and an endless life and she was trapped in that cage with a mother that did not understand, a father that had disappeared, and a life that was destined dash her dreams.