Lizzy picked up a candle from the reception desk and led Charlie to Bill Polk’s room.
“Daddy?” said Lizzy softly. “Are you awake?”
Bill muttered an affirmative reply.
“There's someone here to see you.”
Bill opened his eyes, realized the identity of his visitor, and then frowned and looked away. “What is he doing here?”
“Now Daddy, you need to put that behind you and talk to Charlie. You know you love him.”
“Word must have got out that I’m dying. If you’re here to collect your inheritance you’ve got another think coming.”
“No sir. Didn't even cross my mind,” Charlie said thinking he dare not tell him the real reason he was at the hospital. One word about Buster Funkhouser and his daddy would have a heart attack sufficient to kill him.
“Well, ain't gonna be much left of the old farm anyway. I sure ain't gonna be able to work it no more.”
Seeing that the two were talking Lizzy left the room.
“What do the doctors say?” asked Charlie.
“What do you think they say to a man with a worn out ticker? There ain't no hope. I'll soon be a goner and probably nobody will be happier about that than you.”
“I don't feel that way at all. I'm sad about what happened between us.”
Bill continued to look away avoiding eye contact. “Gave up on you on a long time ago, boy. The day you walked out you were no longer a kin of mine. Guess you feel real uppity rolling in the hay over there with the Millers.”
Charlie teared up and sat quietly choosing his next words carefully. “Daddy …”
“Stop calling me that. There’s probably other names you’d rather call me.”
A smile came to Charlie's face. “Well, even though I may be thinking of a few names that fit, because of the way you treat me, I would never say it out loud. What Lizzy said...is that true? She said that you love me. Mama told me the same thing. It would mean the world to me to hear you say it.”
Charlie waited, hoping for a response, but there was none. “If you'll meet me half-way, and show me a little respect and kindness like you show the others I'll come back home and work the farm for you. I've saved up a little money. I could get things back to the way they were.”
“Just as I thought,” said Bill sounding considerably more energetic. “You ain't gonna touch nothing on that farm and you never will. I already saw to that.”
Again Charlie fought back tears as he considered the meaning of Bill’s statement.
“Done made out a will,” said Bill gruffly. “Had it drawn up by a lawyer over in Edinburg so you ain't never gonna lay your hands on nothing of mine.”
“What’s that lawyer’s name? I might have heard of him.”
“Name escapes me right now.”
“You don’t have money to spend on no lawyer.”
“All I ask is you give me my dying wish.”
“And what might that be?”
“When they put my cold dead body in the grave, don't want you anywhere near, and I sure don't want you to ever set foot on my farm again.”
Charlie could take it no more and made his real feelings known. “Since I came into this world you have treated me like the scum of the earth. You've whipped me for no good reason more times than I can count, broke my jaw, bloodied my nose, kicked me in my privates, made me sleep in the stench of the barn with your cows on the coldest days of winter, and never ever showed any gratitude for all the hard work I did for you. I got no education because you wouldn't let me go to school like the others. And since I’m your son I’ve had your miserable reputation hung on me like a big old ugly sign that says, ‘chip off the old block. Like father like son.’”
Bill was not about to let Charlie’s complaint go unchallenged. “You want to talk about not showing gratitude? Who was it that put a roof over your head and put food on the table? Who taught you everything you know about farming? Sounds to me like you're the one that ain't grateful. It's time you just forget about me like I never was. See here? Can't see me because I never was. Just forget about me if I cause you so much misery.”
“You're crazy to think that I could ever forget you. You will forever be etched in my memory just like the stripes on my loins and back.”
Charlie moved so his father could see him, pulled up his shirt, and held a candle to reveal painful reminders of his childhood. “Look here old man. Take a look at all that good you say you’ve done for me. Should I be grateful for this? This is why I will never be able to forget you.”
He sat the candle back on the table and sat in a chair beside the bed. “Before I go, I think you owe me one thing.”
“I don't owe you nothing, nothing at all.”
“I think you do. If you’re man enough to whip a defenseless child, then you ought to be man enough to fess up to why you have hated me all these years. Why did you love my brother and sisters and hate me? Why?
For the first time since entering the room, Bill intentionally made eye contact. For several moments he just stared at Charlie and then he cleared his throat and coughed. “Hand me that glass of water,” he said and as he drank Charlie could sense a change in his father’s demeanor. When Bill finally spoke his speech was uncharacteristically soft and kind. “My daddy used to tell me that I had the devil in me and I expect that’s true. Ain’t done much in my life to prove otherwise. I’m a drunk and a mean one at that. And you know good and well about my womanizing and cheating. I saw you get out of the wagon one night when I carried money to my other family. It would have been a whole lot easier if God had given me a wicked son to follow in my footsteps. Would have been easier for both of us but from the earliest I saw something in you that scared me. First time I ever saw it was when you were barely able to walk. We had a sick cow that was near death. Your mama brought you out to the field where I was tending to the animal and you turned loose of her hand. She tried to catch you, but you ran over to that cow and started hugging on it. Soon after, that old cow got up and was healthy like there was nothing ever wrong with her. One time when you were about five I was cutting down some trees near the road and you were playing close by. When one of them trees started to fall, I saw it heading right for you and I had no way of getting you out of there. You were pinned under the trunk of the tree and I figured you were dead. I ran next door to get help from a neighbor and the two of us ran down back down there with your mama to try to pull the tree off of you. But when we got there the tree had already been moved and you were playing in a pile of dirt like nothing had ever happened. When we asked you who moved the tree, you talked about the kind man who lifted it off you. There wasn’t a scratch on your body. You were everything that I never could be. You were more than good, you had a gift like nothing anybody has ever seen, and there were times when it was obvious you were getting some extra help. You’re mama said she figured you had a guardian angel or maybe it was the good Lord himself helping you.”
“Come on. That can’t be the reason you hate me.”
Bill paused briefly while trying to change his position on the bed. Suddenly a bright light beamed through the window marking the end of the storm and the return of sunshine.
“I figured God sent you to punish me. Every time I looked at you I was reminded of what a filthy wretch I am and then there was that thing that happened between Mary and Buster Funkhouser.”
Finally, Bill Polk was getting to the heart of the matter. Charlie had already concluded that his daddy’s hostility toward him had something to do with Buster. He leaned forward in the chair in anticipation of the moment of truth. “What about Mama and Buster?”
“It was right after his wife died and she carried some food over to his house. I still had some work left to do so I told her that I would meet up with her. When I got there, I caught the two of them holding each other tight.”
“Was it a passionate hug or was she just consoling a man who had just lost his wife?”
“They claimed it was completely
innocent, but I thought different. I made her leave and told him that I better never catch him near my wife again. Even if there wasn’t nothing going on it was only a matter of time. He was a good man and your mama was married to a sorry drunk. She had already threatened to leave me if I didn’t change my ways. I saw Buster Funkhouser as her way out.”
“Still don’t see what that has to do with your hatred toward me.”
“Wasn’t long after that time that I found out your Mama was gonna have another baby. Nine months later you were born.”
Charlie stood up and looked out the window. “Are you telling me that Buster Funkhouser is my father?”
“Don’t know for sure. You’re mama swore on the Bible that you’re mine. See, I already had me another family so I figured that Mary was just getting back at me. Charlie, we all think that other folks think just like we do. An embrace between a man and a woman meant just one thing to me. I expect, for a good woman like your mama and a good man like Buster Funkhouser, it meant something entirely different. Don’t think badly of your mother. Even if she did do something wrong, she had a right to after all the bad that I’ve done. And just for the record, I don’t hate you. Never have. I’m just an evil man. There ain’t no good in me.”
“Why don’t you try to change your ways?”
“Too far gone.”
“I don’t believe that and neither should you.”
A nurse entered the room and interrupted their conversation. “Charlie Polk?”
“Yes, mam.”
“Phone call.”
“One minute, please. Daddy, I’ve never seen you like this and I like what I see. You can turn your life around. Promise me you’ll try.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Got to go.”
“I got to go, too,” said Bill. Real quick. Nurse, I’ll be needing a bedpan about now.”
The nurse laughed, granted Bill’s request and then led Charlie to the hospital office.
“Any idea who’s calling me?”
“Somebody named Wissler. This phone is normally off limits to the public. Apparently the Hospital Administrator knows the caller.”
“What time is it?
“11:30.”
The nurse led Charlie into an office and showed him the telephone sitting on a desk.
“Never worked one of these things before.”
“Real easy. Just talk into the mouthpiece and hold this part up to your ear. Then, say ‘hello.’
Charlie inspected the phone for a moment and then followed the nurse’s instructions. “Hello?”
“Charlie, John Wissler. Thanks for standing by Buster. How is he?”
“Doctor doesn’t hold much hope.”
“Sorry to hear that. No thanks to this storm, me and Frank are stuck in Richmond. Ada said Doc Koontz called her. Said it was a tractor accident. How did it happen?”
“Took the hill too fast and lost control.”
“I’ll bet he was on that new tractor.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I feel awful about that. He was doing what I told him to do. How you getting home?”
“Don’t have a clue. No way the farm truck’s going anywhere on these roads.”
“I hear the trains are still running. Leave the truck and we’ll pick it up later. Thanks again for what you did today.”
Charlie knew that the day was getting away from him. Somehow he had to get to Mable. He was two miles from the train depot and the only way he knew to get there was to walk. When he returned to the lobby, his mother was still sitting there.
“Been with your daddy all this time?”
“Pretty much.”
“How’d it go?”
Before he could answer his mother’s question a nurse entered the room. “Mr. Polk. Charlie Polk.”
No rest for the weary, thought Charlie. What do they want now? “I’m Charlie Polk. How can I help you?”
“Follow me, please. Doc Blair wants to see you.”
In the hallway, Charlie was greeted by the doctor. “Your friend didn’t make it. I’m sorry. Are you sure there’s no next of kin?”
“Maybe somewhere. Might want to talk to John Wissler. Buster was John’s right-hand man.”
“I know John. I’ll call him.”
Charlie was saddened that Buster had died and it upset him that he was unable to save him. When Mary Polk saw her son, she could see that he was troubled. “Buster didn’t make it, did he?”
“No, mam.”
“He’s in a better place. He was a good man,” said Mary as she pulled a handkerchief from her purse to wipe away a tear. “We all grew up together, me, your daddy, Buster, Elizabeth. She was the best friend I ever had. You didn’t finish telling me about your talk with your father.”
Charlie was deep in thought, distracted by Buster’s death and wondering if Mable had made her decision. “It went better than I ever would have expected. He was ornery at first and then he got nice. Never saw that side of him before.”
“He got a pretty good scare. Thought he was going to die.”
“He told me why he was so riled at Buster.”
“What did he say?”
Realizing that his sister was present, Charlie answered cautiously. “He said you carried food over to Buster’s house the night his wife died. Look, I would really like to finish this conversation but I have got to get back to Mt. Jackson.”
His mother protested, told him that even though the rain had stopped there was still flooding, and people had been talking about a lot of trees on the road, but Charlie was determined to see Mable.
It was just after 1 o’clock when Charlie began his trek to the train depot. The sun was now shining brightly revealing substantial damage caused by the storm. There were indeed trees down but more troublesome was the flooding on South Main Street which required wading through water that at one point was knee deep.
At 2:15 Charlie arrived at the train station and immediately went inside. “Next train to Mt. Jackson, please.”
“It’s Sunday. Nothing running till tonight at 8:45 and I can’t promise that she’ll be on time. I expect there are some trees down or track damage somewhere along the way.”
“Any place around here to get something to eat?”
“The End of the Line Café, next door.”
Dejected, fatigued, and hungry Charlie thought it appropriate that he was about to eat at The End of the Line.
Charlie made that meal last as long as possible and then he napped on a bench in front of the station. But the evening train did not arrive at 8:45, or 9:45, or 10:45. Sadly, it didn’t come at all. Even the morning train was behind schedule. “Delayed by storm damage,” said the ticket master. Finally, at 10:15 Monday morning, Charlie arrived in Mt. Jackson.
The Confession – June 9, 1919
The day of decision was passed and Mable had a very clear sign from God. It didn’t just rain, it poured. She was distraught because she desperately hoped for a different outcome. She couldn’t imagine herself ever loving anyone more than she loved Charlie. It broke her heart to have to turn down his proposal and she agonized as to how to break the bad news. After the storm had ended she expected him to come for her answer so she sat by a window watching for his arrival, but he didn't show up. Moses told her that there was bound to be flooding, washed out roads, and trees down, which would hinder his travel plans. But she knew Charlie, that he wouldn’t let a little thing like the storm of the century stop him. Mable feared the worst, that something dreadful had happened to him on his way to see her.
Mable lay awake most of the night worrying and praying. If this sign that was so important to her caused something terrible to happen to Charlie she could never forgive herself. Even though that thought seemed unreasonable, she couldn’t get it out of her mind. Surely God wouldn’t harm Charlie as part of the answer to her prayer. This whole sign thing was stupid, stupid, stupid, she said to herself. Oh, Lord. What have I done?
On Monday morning she got
out of bed early, dressed, and hurried downstairs to find her daddy. Mable had to do something, she had to know that Charlie was OK. Moses was in the kitchen preparing his usual breakfast of crackers and milk with a cup of coffee.
“I’m worried sick about Charlie.”
“He’ll get here when the roads are clear.”
“Something awful may have happened to him. I’ve got to know that he’s alright.”
“He’ll come. Be patient.”
“Take me over to the Miller farm.”
“Roads are a mess.”
“Let’s just try. Please, daddy.”
Moses laid down his spoon and sat back in his chair. “We couldn’t make it in the wagon.”
“Take the horse. If we see it’s dangerous, we’ll turn back.”
“Go tell your mama what we’re doing and I’ll get the horse ready.”
By 8:00 AM, Mable, and Moses were standing on the front porch of the Miller house. Moses knocked on the door and Mable scanned the property for some sign of Charlie.
“Who is it?” said Hannah Miller.
“Moses Shown.”
“If you’re here to see Charlie Polk about your sick animal, he ain’t here no more.”
Now Mable was really frightened. “Mrs. Miller, this is Mable Polk, Cilla’s old friend. Can we please talk to you for a minute?”
Hannah opened the door and inquired if Mable was there to see Cilla.
“Been expecting Charlie to show up at my house since yesterday and he didn’t come. I’m afraid something might have happened to him.”
“Come on in. Let’s talk,” said Hannah, who then led Mable and her daddy through the parlor to the kitchen where Cilla and Lisa were eating breakfast.
When Cilla looked up and saw Mable, she nearly choked on her biscuit. “Mable?”
“Hey, Cilla.”
“What brings you here?”
Before Mable could answer Hannah introduced Lisa and asked them to sit down. “Can I get you all something to eat?”
“No, mam. And this is my daddy, Moses. He wouldn’t let me come over here by myself not knowing how bad the roads were. Just trying to find out if Charlie’s alright.”
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