With the hum of the bus’ engine in the background, I stared out the window, watching the world slip by in brown and tan blurs. The image of wood fence posts came into view and then shot by, one right after another, as we rambled down Highway 64. The bus jolted when it hit potholes, and swerved and swayed as the driver fought the force of an Oklahoma wind.
Dry grasses and brush of varying types and sizes lined the edge of the road; however the tumbleweeds were still large and green. It seemed no matter how dry it got those tumbleweeds always managed to draw moisture from somewhere. They suck up the moisture all summer so they can blow around and spread their seeds all winter. The sagebrush and the yucca were about the same, surviving when everything else had practically given up for the season.
There was an analogy somewhere in those thoughts. Daddy was fond of analogies, allegories, and illustrations of any kind. He used them in his sermons, often conveying a better understanding of his message. He would have been proud of the thoughts that were going through my head as I thought of all the different illustrations of life choosing to proceed in the face of difficulty. Along with the tumbleweeds, there were the dandelions, the paper-thin elm seeds, the light fluffy cottonwood seeds, and the ants that seemed to suddenly reappear after a torrential rain had washed away their homes. Nature was full of such examples; an endless struggle to combat the overwhelming forces that moved against it. I was going to follow those examples and pick up the pieces of my life. I knew there had to be a better world ahead of me somewhere.
Though much of the time I kept my mind busy, the bus ride home from Dallas was long and miserably hot. The air inside the bus was clammy and stale. We had been cooped up for hours. The children in the seat behind me had, understandably, grown impatient with the long ride, and were starting to get unruly. With the perspiration causing my clothes to stick to me, restlessness settled in on me as well, and each mile seemed to take forever.
As familiar landmarks began to come into view, I found myself growing more and more anxious to get home and to get started on the rest of my life. I guess I could have meditated on how awful life had been lately, but I honestly believed my survival against cancer was reason enough to count my blessings. The sooner I started taking advantage of the opportunity I was given to live, the better.
When the bus finally pulled into town, I couldn’t help but smile, and sigh with relief. And when it came to a stop in front of the old hotel, it was such a welcoming site I nearly started to cry. I suppose it might not have been as impressive as pulling up in front of the Ritz, but it was pretty special to me.
The Commercial Hotel was as near as Forgan got to a grand remnant of the past. Not much as far as appearances go, still, it stood stately as the tallest building in town. Built in a time that regarded practicality over decorum, it served the purpose. It came into existence early in the town’s history when the growing populace of a boomtown sought cheap, sensible shelter rather than the lush grandeur of the cities. The broomcorn crops flowing from the fields called for workers, and the railroad brought them, making the Commercial Hotel a popular place back in the town’s heyday.
On the outside, it was covered in tin that had been painted white several times, and at least a couple of times right over the lettering on the side, but time and weather had allowed the white paint to fade in a way that the building could proudly announce its own name once again. Nestled at its base, the Commercial Café was in the same building. It too was a product of the past, a quaint little café with a counter and barstools, and a large window that overlooked the comings and goings of the town. It served as a gathering place for the locals, especially the coffee drinkers and people wandering up from the lumberyard down the block. It welcomed travelers by offering friendly faces and old-fashioned hospitality.
Stepping inside the hotel was like entering another time. The lobby was large, tiled with small, white ceramic squares. An elaborate walnut desk stood at the back; a pigeonholed cabinet behind it held the keys to the rooms. An old fan hung from the middle of the tin ceiling, turning in a slow, lazy circle. To the right of the desk the wooden staircase curved slightly as it led upstairs, the worn fabric of its runner held down over the steps by aged brass rods.
Although, the rooms were what might be considered plain, I found them rather romantic. It was like a giant Victorian bed and breakfast. With antique brass bed frames, quilted down comforters, and lace covered feather pillows, it seemed so warm and inviting. Each room had its own mahogany dresser, a dry sink with a simple pitcher and a basin, and an oval braided rug centered in the middle of the oak floor. Although they had long ago added electric lighting, the kerosene lamps still hung on the walls.
There were no private baths when it was built, in fact, there was no running water, but later on they added a community bath at the end of the hall. There was one room, however, a room adjacent to the community bathroom, that had a lovely bathing room, with a large claw-foot tub, gleaming brass fixtures, and the little square tiles like down in the lobby. It was like a honeymoon suite, or at least as much of one as Forgan had to offer.
As a young girl, I had often wandered the halls of the Commercial, peeking into the open rooms, imagining I was in a big city hotel, or that I was a sleuth looking for clues. Mr. and Mrs. Parker who ran the place never seemed to mind and often encouraged my imagination. I called that room the Princess Room, and had always imagined it would be so wonderful to spend the night in such a beautiful place.
The Commercial seemed like more than just a building, it almost seemed to have a life of its own. Though the town’s boom had occurred nearly two generations before, and had long been forgotten in the minds of most of its citizens, the Commercial somehow continued to find life after broomcorn through the weary travelers that rode the bus down Highway 64, to destinations far beyond that small Oklahoma town. It was the only stop for thirty miles in either direction. For some reason people loved to stay in the place, waking up in the morning to walk down to the diner below, stepping back in time to a place that felt like home should feel.
That day the Commercial was the best landmark I’d seen in a long, long time; so close to home, I felt I’d just slipped out of my shoes. There is this amazing thing about going home after a long, trying ordeal. The aches inside me were like that of a man who has gone days with little to eat, and suddenly someone sets before him a meal fit for a king. He is overwhelmed and unsure if he can eat all that has been offered to him, but he is so hungry he doesn’t want to let one little bite go to waste. So, what does he do? He gorges himself. That’s what I wanted to do. I wanted to take it all in at once, but it was nearly too much for me.
I must say it did feel a little bit strange being back home without Henry. Home had changed once again, and now it didn’t include my husband. I knew that eventually those feelings would pass, and I would grow accustomed to my new life. It could even be said that my real life was about to begin, because life up until then had been little more than a big masquerade.
The reflective mood I had been in most of the trip, I guess, made it easier to notice how much things had changed around there. The town had aged a little more, as small towns do. A few more of the businesses had closed down. Gone were many of the familiar faces at the diner, as well as at the filling station across the street. Momma was there though, waiting to meet me as soon as I stepped off the bus. I was pretty sure she would be. She had Ashley with her, dolled up and looking as pretty as a picture. I sure had missed seeing my little angel.
When I saw Momma, my throat began to knot up. It was amazing how little she had changed through the years. Like the town, she had aged a little, but with the exception of a few wrinkles etched here and there, and possibly a touch more grey in her hair, she was still the same remarkable woman I had always known her to be. She still held the same wonderful features I so loved about her when I was a child; those twinkling green eyes, and that warm smile that always made me feel comfortable inside.
As she rushed up
to me I could see the tears building in her eyes. With Ashley in one arm, she held her other arm outstretched and, as we met, the three of us embraced in a hug.
We didn’t speak for a while. We just stood there holding each other. In that few minutes I felt the absence and distance between us dissolved. Sometimes when you have been away from someone, you don’t really understand how much you’ve missed them until you look them in the eyes. It was as if all the aches of loneliness came together, and I wanted to gather her in my arms, and hug the past away. I had missed her something awful, and it was as if all of the things I had experienced over the past few months came to the surface, and I could no longer contain them. My emotions began pouring out of me. I felt like a little girl again, hurt and confused, and Momma was there like always to love the pain away.
When we both came to our senses, getting our emotions under control, feeling a little wash of embarrassment for the way we were acting in public, and smiling awkwardly, we each stepped back to take in the image of the other. Well, maybe it was only me who was embarrassed; Momma was not one to be concerned at what other folks thought when it came to such things.
She handed Ashley over to me, and then she stared me up and down real good, as if she was trying to see if I had been taking care of myself.
“Let me look at you,” she said. “Why, you look as pretty as ever. Maybe a little thin, but nothing a good meal or two shouldn’t fix. And they say you’re all better now, sweetheart?”
I smiled as she reached up, and ran her thumbs under my eyes, wiping away a few remaining tears.
“Well, they think so anyway. They said I’d have to wait to see if anything returns, but the doctor was real happy with how it went.”
She stood there quietly for a moment as if she was contemplating the possibilities, and then she smiled a faint little smile trying to hide her concern.
“Well, let’s get you on home now. You must be at least a little tired from that bus ride.”
“I’m exhausted. It was such a long, hot trip. I’m glad I spent the night in Oklahoma City. I don’t think I could have handled nine hours straight, five hours was about as much as I could take.”
While we were talking, the bus driver had set my bags down next to me. As Momma started to reach for them, I saw a callused set of hands grab them up. It was J.B. and he was beaming from ear to ear.
“I was just passing by, and I thought you ladies might like a hand with those bags.”
Without waiting for a reply, he hefted the bags into the back of his old pickup truck, and then opened the door for us. He looked over at me with a little ornery expression that acknowledged he knew what was coming next.
As if on cue, Momma started in on him.
“Now, J.B. we could have made the walk just fine. You don’t need to be wasting gasoline drivin’ us all over town.”
He was ready for her, though.
“Mrs. McAllister, I ain’t gonna be wasting no gasoline, because it’s on my way. I’ll be drivin’ up that way anyhow, and it would only be a waste if you beautiful ladies weren’t ridin’ with me.”
She bent beneath his charm and began to climb into the pickup.
“Well, I guess a lady my age doesn’t get to be chauffeured around by a handsome young man every day.”
After J.B. had carried us home in his truck, and hauled my bags up to the room, we all stepped out onto the porch. Momma brought out some fresh brewed iced tea she had steeped that morning. After that long, hot ride, it tasted so refreshing I nearly gulped it all down without a breath.
We sat out there on the front porch, shaded from the afternoon sun by a couple of elms and a cottonwood, drinking iced tea and visiting. J.B., Ashley, and I sat on the porch swing. Momma sat in the metal chair. After a little while, I guess Momma thought she should give us some privacy, so she excused herself to go work on some laundry.
With Momma gone, there was a moment when the quiet settled upon us. I guess we were both caught up in our own thoughts, not sure where to begin, or hesitantly determining which things were worth talking about, and which would be best left alone. As my mind went through the motions, the memory a May evening came to mind. I looked over at J.B. and I couldn’t help but wonder if we had both stumbled onto that memory at the same time. He had a deep look in his eyes, and when our eyes met and locked together, I could feel my cheeks blush. Instinctively, J.B. changed the subject, even though it had never been spoken.
“Have you heard from Henry lately?”
I could tell he was just trying to make conversation, and he wasn’t sure if he had picked the right subject after he said it.
I didn’t mind though.
“No, I haven’t spoken to him since he came by the hospital. I left a note for him on the table at the house, but I don’t know when he’ll see it. It still doesn’t seem real. I mean the last few months seem like a bad dream I can’t shake. I knew we were having problems, but I thought they would eventually work out. I guess I’ve been fooling myself for a long time.”
He shook his head.
“Now, Abby, don’t be hard on yourself. You can’t change those that don’t want to change. He’s lost more than he’ll ever gain. If he don’t realize what a treasure he had before him, then I guess someday another man will stand a chance of finding it. I hope you can open your heart up again when that time comes along.”
He paused not sure if he should go on.
“People get into a rut sometimes and they just can’t find their way out. While it seems simple for folks on the outside, they go on making the same mistake over and over again. Those folks on the outside wonder why they can’t see the mistake before it happens. You had your heart set on something and there wasn’t anybody who could have made you change your mind. Experience can be a cruel teacher.”
He took a breath before he continued.
“I figured the best thing I could do was make sure you knew you had some place to turn when it all went south. So, that’s what I did, and what I do, and what I’ll always do, as long as you keep me around.”
I couldn’t keep myself from marveling at him. He was so quiet and reserved most of the time. The life he had chosen, for the most part, left him alone out on the trail, far from other people. He often went weeks without coming into town. In fact, he once told me there many nights he bedded down with a sky full of stars as his bedroom ceiling. He spent more of his time with his horse and with the cattle, than he spent around another living being, yet he had an ability to read people and situations better than anyone I knew.
I guess he felt he had said enough, or given me plenty on which to ponder, because he reached over and patted my hand and then stood to leave.
“I’ll stop by and check on you in a few days. That’ll give you a chance to settle in a bit.”
Then he gave Ashley a little kiss on the forehead.
I stood with him and kissed him on the cheek.
“Thanks for the ride, J.B.”
I watched him drive off, a cloud of dust stirring in the wind behind his truck. As the dust settled, and the air cleared, I thought of one of those illustrations again. It involved my life, and the cloud that had blocked my view for the biggest part of it. It seemed the dust was beginning to settle now, and I was seeing things more clearly than I ever had before.
I spent most of the next few weeks settling in, helping Momma catch up on her mending and laundry, and trying my best to keep up with Ashley, who headed for the stairway at every opportunity.
J.B. stopped by every couple of days or so, but he usually didn’t stay long. He did a few little fix up chores for Momma, if there was a need. The canning shed out back had some tin that had blown loose in one of the spring storms, and some limbs from a locust tree out back were rubbing into the roof, so he took care of those one day. Usually he just stopped for a glass of tea, or a sit on the porch swing.
One afternoon, J.B. stopped by on his way out to the ranch. He had come to town for a load of fence posts and wire. I hear
d his old truck pull up out front, and went to the screen door.
“Howdy, Abby. Beautiful day ain’t it?”
He had that big ornery smile on his face. The one where all of his teeth were showing and it couldn’t help but make me wonder what no good he was up to, now.
I stepped out the door and waved.
“Yes, it is beautiful today. ‘Seems the heat has given us a break. What are you doing in town this early? Aren’t you supposed to be arguing with cows about now?”
He laughed at that.
“They quit on me. They saw me stand up to the mule, and when they figured out I was more stubborn than him, they just gave up on arguing with me all together. I ain’t had a lick of fun since.”
He stepped up on the porch, and took off his hat.
“Actually, I had to pick up a few things down at Coldwater’s. ‘Thought I’d stop by and see you before I head back out. Ain’t nothing out there but sage brush and buffalo grass, it does a man good to see a rose now and then.”
I blushed.
“You do have a way with words. I thought you were the quiet type, seems like lately you have plenty to say.”
“What can I say? I guess my tongue was hogtied ‘til you came around.”
He still had that big grin on his face.
“You know the folks down at Coldwater’s keep asking me if you’re gonna come back down there and straighten out the books.”
I had planned to look for some work pretty soon, but I wanted to help Momma along a little before I did.
“I didn’t know they were looking for someone to do the books. What about Sadie Howard? I thought she was still down there.”
“Oh, she is, but I guess it’s getting to be too much for her to keep up with lately. She’s been working part time for nearly six months now.”
“Did you just stop by to check up on my employment status, or is there another reason?”
He smiled that ornery smile again.
“I told you, I came to see something pretty. Besides, Abby, when have I ever had to have a reason to come calling on you?”
“Well, I guess never really, but you must have a reason to stop here on your way back to work. You like working out there with them cows too much to miss a second more of it. You’ve told me yourself you would rather be ridin’ that horse than doing anything else.”
“Well, this is true, but don’t use my own words against me. It just ain’t polite. If you must know, I wanted to give you enough time to get ready.”
I puzzled.
“Get ready for what?”
“Why, for to go with me to a movin’ picture show, tonight. I thought since the weather was so nice, we might go to the drive-in up to Liberal.”
I think he thought he would have to convince me, because I could see the fight go out of him when I answered.
“That’s sweet. What time will you be by?”
He almost looked disappointed at not getting to argue about it.
“Well, how about six o’clock. We might go over to the A&W for a bite beforehand.”
“Six o’clock it is. Don’t let them cows keep you late.”
He smiled and tipped his hat. Then he got into the truck and headed for the ranch.
I was so giddy all afternoon; it almost seems amusing now. After all, it was J.B., but it felt like my first date. I guess in a way it was.
He was prompt; I will say that. He was out in front of the house at six o’clock sharp. He hadn’t let those cows keep him at all. He’d surely stropped the razor as well, because his face was as smooth as Ashley’s behind, except for his mustache, which was trimmed and combed. He had a new gray hat, and his crisp white shirt had been ironed and starched. He had even found time to have Sam, the barber, trim up his hair. I’d say he was about as handsome as I had ever seen him.
I let him come all the way up to the door.
“Would you like to come in for a minute or do we have time?”
“Sure.”
Momma was sitting in her rocker with Ashley. Her eyebrows lifted when she saw him, and I could tell she was as impressed with J.B. as I was. He hung his hat on the rack by the door. I remember thinking that old hat rack probably hadn’t known its purpose since Daddy had died
He proceeded directly over to Ashley, and picked her up raising her over his head. She giggled a little, but then got a little scared look on her face before he brought her down. I could smell his aftershave lotion as he moved by me. Momma must have caught the scent of it as well.
“Well, J.B., I haven’t seen you this gussied up since… well I can’t remember. It must have taken a bush hog to shave off that stubble you were wearing.”
He grinned, showing those big white teeth.
“Well, I guess when a man has a reason he can hit the mark.”
He handed Ashley back to Momma, and turned to me taking my hand.
“Well, Abby we best make some tracks if were gonna have time to eat a bite. We’ll see you later Mrs. McAllister. I won’t be keeping her out too late.”
Momma smiled and waved him off.
“I reckon Abby is a big girl now, and can decide upon her own bedtime. You all have fun, now.”
I kissed Momma and Ashley goodbye, and then followed J.B. out to the truck. I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. He’d cleaned that old truck up so nice I could see my reflection in the shine.
“What did you do, take off the whole afternoon to get ready,” I asked teasingly.
“Like I said, when a man finds a reason, he can hit the mark.”
He opened the door for me, and then went around to his own side. Laying his hat on the seat between us, he started the truck and we began the thirty-mile trip to Liberal. At first, we were both rather quiet. It seemed kind of strange, almost dreamlike, going out on a date. It made the life I had before seem so far away.
I have to admit there was some apprehension toward thinking of J.B. as someone I could date. I surely didn’t want anything to mess up our relationship. Before long we were carrying on like always, and, in what seemed no time at all, the drive was over.
I can’t remember the name of the movie we watched. I know that sounds silly, but I didn’t really get into it. It was some kind of a western, and it had Sam Elliot in it, and normally that would be reason enough for me to watch it, but I didn’t. I do remember that it turned out to be one of the most beautiful evenings I’d had in quite a while. I had such a good time with J.B., that’s all that mattered.
We had stopped at the A&W on the way, but since it was getting dark and we wanted a good spot at the drive-in, we got our food to go. While the previews ran, we sat there eating and talking together. Now this is really crazy, I know, but J.B. was talking up a storm, and I wasn’t listening to a word he was saying. He tapped me on the arm.
“Abby, are you with me? What’s wrong?”
He looked disturbed, and looking back I don’t blame him. I probably made him feel terrible.
“Was it something I said?”
I looked up at him and smiled. I couldn’t hide the little giggle.
“Abby, what in the world are you up to?”
It was a small thing, and I suppose to someone else it might even seem strange that I would pay it any attention to it at all, but sometimes it’s those little things which lead you to understand the bigger things. When J.B. was placing our order, instead of ordering two orders of fries, he ordered one large serving. It came in a pretty big tray, so he figured we could share. I’m a ketchup fanatic, so I asked him to order extra ketchup for me. Well, here we were eating, and I suddenly realized that he had thoroughly drowned those fries with the ketchup. I mean they were plastered with the stuff.
When I looked at the tray, I said to myself, “If Henry saw that he’d puke.”
He hated ketchup, and it was crazy how mad he would get at me if I got any on his side of the fries, so we rarely shared. Thoughts tend to run together, and soon I was thinking about some of the other things we had fought about, si
lly things, things that should be give and take items. We had never been compatible. While J.B. and I, on the other hand, we had always been compatible. And that’s what made me laugh, because it was written in the fries.
“No, nothing’s wrong.”
I looked into his eyes.
“On the contrary, everything is perfect. I’m sorry I wasn’t listening to you. It was rude, I know, but I just let myself get distracted for a moment. What were you saying?”
“I asked if you would like to come out and ride some with me tomorrow, but if you don’t want to, that’s okay.”
I could tell by the look on his face he was still trying to read my thoughts, and I had led him way off track, so there was nothing I could do but explain it to him.
“I would love to ride with you tomorrow. J.B., I’m sorry. It wasn’t anything you said. Like I told you, it was just a silly thought that popped into my head and distracted me.”
So then I proceeded to explain to him how ketchup had been such a point of argument between us. I didn’t tell him about the thoughts I’d had of him. He smiled.
“Leave it to Henry to get worked up over something so little when he should have been knocked senseless by the pretty blue-eyed gal in front of him instead.”
He had once again succeeded at making me blush, and I felt a warm tingle move over me, kind of like that warm relaxing feeling you get when you sit under a ray of sunshine on a beautiful spring day. He had a rough exterior, kind of rugged and unrefined, but inside, he was gold. To some his way of speaking might be a little backward, but in that backward way of his, he could express some of the sweetest sentiments ever offered. He had a slow, quiet voice, and I could sit and listen to him speak for hours at a time.
As the movie started, J.B. cleared the trash from our supper, and carried it over to the trashcan. When he got back into the cab, he seemed pleasantly surprised to see I had scooted over to the middle of the seat
He slid in, putting his arm around me, and I nuzzled my head into his chest. I felt my body relax, I couldn’t have been more comfortable on a feather pillow. I believe I can sincerely say, for that moment, his shoulder was the most peaceful place on earth. Before I knew it the movie was over, and the other cars around us were starting their engines to leave. We didn’t hurry off though. We sat there together until the last car had driven out the gate.
Finally, J.B. stirred and removed his arm from around me to start the truck.
“I guess we best go on or else they’ll lock us in here.”
We left the drive-in and headed for home. I stayed close beside him, and once we were out on the highway where he didn’t need to shift any more, he put his arm back over my shoulders. I was as comfortable as I had ever been before, and with the heater taking the chill out of the night air, I felt that warm relaxing feeling come back. We didn’t speak. We sat together, our warm bodies touching. I felt him lean his head against the top of mine and, every so often, I could feel his breath move my hair.
I didn’t want the night to end. I was so content beside him. There were no incredibly passionate juices flowing. There was no adrenaline pulsing through my veins, just pure, unadulterated, satisfaction, something I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
The only sounds were those of that old truck, and of the night air blowing by us. On the other side of the windshield, the night was clear, and a full moon lit up the land enough that we could have driven without the lights if we had chosen to do so. The stars twinkled in the night sky overhead with nothing to obstruct their view. I don’t think we could have found a prettier night for a drive. I felt like a little child on vacation, hoping the trip would never end. After we had driven a few miles, I heard my own voice break through the drone of the truck’s engine.
“Drive slow, J.B.”
Whispers in the Wind Page 26