by JD Salyers
4
Melody Briggs stands on the front porch and watches. Her husband saunters down the driveway and disappears around the bend in the thick trees. She fights the urge to go after him.
He might be upset with her if she tried to stop him, but at this point isn't it better to have him upset than gone for good?
The doctors explained what was happening, how the signals in Landon's brain were getting tangled. They told her he would have spells of confusion and forgetfulness, and how that might lead to fear or irritation or even anger.
Like yesterday. For a minute there, he was angry with her. He hadn't let on, but she saw it. He was a big man, and he could probably do some damage if his emotions ever got too out of control, but that thought barely crossed her mind because he didn't do that, didn't let his emotions rule him, no matter how strongly he felt them. Even when she'd fallen apart after their first miscarriage so many years ago, he had remained strong. She'd thought he didn't care, but he had. When she looked she could see the quiet devastation in his eyes. Landon wasn't the kind of man who talked about his feelings, but that only meant that he felt them more than most.
Today, she only wanted him to come back from his walk safe and sound. The doctors hadn't mentioned it yet in any great detail, but she wasn't dumb. She did her own research. She read the stories about loved ones wandering away and being lost forever, or found after it was too late. She soaked up every story like that and filed it away in her mind, under What to Never, Ever Let Landon Do.
Yet, here she is, letting him do just that. She turns away from the door so that she doesn't run down the steps to catch him and drag him back inside. She tells herself that it's a beautiful day and he won't freeze to death. That they live in a good neighborhood, and if he gets into trouble someone will help him.
It had come completely out of the blue this morning, his announcement that he was going for a walk. She was so surprised that she had actually turned away from their frying eggs, spatula in hand, and stared at him. In a way it's good that he feels active, and she doesn't want to squash that impulse.
In another way, she knows that it is dangerous. Her mental file of Alzheimer stories tells her that.
The doctors told her that there would be mood swings, odd urges, an inability to navigate or even recognize dangers. They said that it would get worse, but Landon's condition seems to be holding steady for now. In fact, yesterday's episode was the first in a few weeks, so she is trying not to worry too much about it.
But that's her job, isn't it? Landon provides, she worries. He's always been the strong one, the decisive one who has the answers. How many times over the years has she looked to him, perplexed, to solve some issue with the boys or the bills? It's hard to see his sharp wit and direct gaze fade, even a little. She doesn't want to be in charge, but it looks like she's been outvoted by God. Lucky her.
Right now she's concerned with the next hour. She knows she won't rest until she sees him come back down the driveway, all in one piece.
It occurs to her that there will come a day when he doesn't come back to her. One day, he will walk away - or simply close his eyes - and she will never see him again. She sits down hard on the old porch swing at the thought, because it knocks the breath out of her. She grips the wooden arm of the bench seat and closes her eyes. Wills him to turn around and come back.
She thinks it might be a good idea to phone a few of their friends around the neighborhood, to ask them to keep an eye out for him and make sure he's all right. But that feels a lot like she is betraying him, and besides, she has no idea which way he's going. A walk can mean many things around here - north, on the highway, south into town. There are paths that meander all over these woods, he can easily take one of those. He loves being in the woods, he always has.
She should have insisted on going along. But the soup needed stirred and she was in the middle of laundry and breakfast when he mentioned it. Like soup and laundry were of paramount importance when her husband was about to disappear.
He's not disappearing, she thinks. The odds of him coming home are very high. The odds of him forgetting and never coming home are nearly nonexistent. It hardly ever happens and there are lots of Alzheimer patients in the world. Like he used to say, "If it's on the news, that means it doesn't happen every day."
She hangs onto that thought with all her heart and goes inside to wait, because that is all there is to do.
When the phone rings twenty minutes later, she hurries across the kitchen to answer it, her heart in her throat. Landon...
But it's Janice, James's wife. "Good morning, Mama Mel. How are you?" Janice asks, her voice light in Melody's ear.
Melody swallows the lump in her throat. "I'm just fine. How are you and those beautiful babies this morning?"
She almost sounds carefree. Almost.
"We're good. Jakey is driving the whole neighborhood batty," Janice says, laughing. "I think he just stole Mr. Pfizer's trash can lid and took off with it. He's in the back yard."
Melody smiled at the mental image of her grandson, three year old legs pumping, stealing a trash can lid that was probably as big as him. "Well, as long as he's having fun," she says.
"No way. Do you know how many of those trash can lids are in our back yard? This is the third one. I need to gather them up and take them back to the poor old man."
Melody looks out the window, down the driveway, and wonders where Landon went. She murmurs, "I'm sure he understands."
Janice apparently catches the quiet in her voice, because she asks, "Are you all right, Mama Mel?"
Melody blinks and tears her gaze from the window. "What? Yes, I'm fine."
"James said you didn't want the boys going on their trip," Janice says. There was an unspoken question there.
"Landon isn't as young as he used to be," Melody answers quietly. She guards her words, remembering the look in Landon's eyes when she mentioned telling the boys yesterday. He's such a private man, what will happen when his condition deteriorates further? To the point that she, alone, can't care for him? The doctors had already spoken to her about that, and warned her to be ready with a plan. She thinks about it nearly every day, and it is the thought that brings her to her knees, more than any other. More than worries about the boys or worries about the grandbabies. She knows her God looks out for them, she has his promises.
But Landon? Landon isn't a Christian. He is a good man, a wonderful man. He is the right man, God's choice for her all those years ago. But he has never asked God to come into his heart and make him whole. On stubborn days, during the early years of their marriage, Melody would cry out to God after a spat, ask Him why this man? Why the one who drove her crazy with his own stubborn streak and his own strong ideas? Life, she thought back then, would be so much easier if Landon was a Christian.
Of course, now she knows better. Now she knows that life, and marriage, and babies, and all the hundreds of other situations that cropped up over the years were just as difficult, even with God's help. He was there with her, every day, but He wasn't her fairy godmother or her very own genie. He didn't swoop in and fix it all, most of the time. Because of that, it's like a double blessing when He does.
Landon doesn't know that kind of support. He doesn't understand that someone bigger is in charge, even though she'd said it a million times during the course of their marriage.
Then again...if she knows it so well, why is she worried? Here she stands, patting herself on the back for being such a good Christian, but if she really believed that God had everything under control, she wouldn't be so worried, now would she? The thought stings, but she can't deny it.
"I'm sure the boys will take good care of him," Janice says, her voice dropping a little.
Melody understands that Janice doesn't want the kids to hear, so she changes the subject. "Will you be all right with the baby all weekend?" she asks. "I know you depend on a break when James is home."
Janice laughs. "I think so. That's why I called, actuall
y. Do you want to come and hang out with us that weekend? It'll be fun."
Melody hesitates.
"The kids miss you," Janice says, trying hard to persuade.
Melody laughs. "They see me every Sunday morning at church. And Jakey is going with them, so it will just be me, you, and little Pansy."
"Wait...what?" Alarm filters through Janice's voice. "They're taking Jakey?"
"James didn't tell you?" Uh-oh. Melody hopes she didn't get James in trouble. He didn't say it was a secret, though. "Landon wasn't sure about the idea until James offered to bring him."
Maybe if Janice nixed that idea, Landon wouldn't bother going. Melody felt a twinge of hope but quashed it and sent a quick apology Heaven-ward. If she was going to trust God, she needed to trust Him, not try to engineer the outcome she wanted.
"Well, I suppose that's all right," Janice is saying. Her voice is thoughtful and slow, like she's mulling it over.
"They'll take good care of him." Melody almost chokes on the words, she's so averse to saying them. It's up to You, God. It's all up to You.
"I'll talk to him tonight when he gets home." Janice pauses. "So, do you want to come? We'll have a picnic and maybe drive down to the lake on Saturday."
"Of course I'll come. It will be good for me to get away from this old boat of a house for a day or two," Melody says, before she can change her mind. "The baby will keep my mind off the boys." The words are out before she realized how they sound.
"Mama Mel, it's obvious that you're worried. Won't you please talk to me?" Janice says, her voice patient. "I can keep a secret."
"I know, honey. I know you can." Melody considers telling her, saying all the things that are running through her head about Landon and his episodes, how she's worried he'll get into trouble in the woods. It would help, what was that old saying about sharing the load? But then Janice will definitely tell James - and rightly so - then James will talk to Landon. James is a take-charge kind of guy, a problem-solver. He always has been. Like his father.
Landon will know she spoke, and he will be hurt. She doesn't want that. "I'm fine, Janice. You worry about those babies, and I'll see you Sunday, all right?"
Janice seems reluctant, but after a few more minutes they hang up. Melody puts the phone down gently, a little ashamed that she even considered breaking Landon's trust.
5
Landon's walk takes him to the end of their driveway, where it meets the main highway into town. The traffic is moving fast, people getting to their jobs. This makes him inexplicably but very definitely nervous, the speed and noise so close to him. He changes direction and turns away, into the trees that line the road.
He finds the trail, nearly overgrown now, that the boys used to use when they were small. The woods are thick and damp with dew, still dripping. The sun hasn’t burned off the wet yet. He follows the trail, thinking that the area is as nice as he remembered, and he should spend time out here more often.
He’s surprised when the trees thin and he sees glimpses of siding and space through the branches. It’s a neighborhood. He realizes that he’s come farther than he thought, and he’s now near his friend Michael’s house. It’s been, what? Twenty years since the family used this path? They often used the shortcut through the woods to each others' homes, and so did their children, years ago.
He hadn't known he was headed there, but now he isn't surprised when he looks up and sees Michael doing something with a lawn mower in his back yard. Michael’s red shirt stands out like a beacon against the white siding of his tidy two-story home. The look on Michael's round, ruddy face when he steps out of the trees is pretty priceless.
Michael points to him and laughs. "You scared the crap out of me," he calls, shaking his head. He greets Landon halfway across the yard and they shake hands. "Good one."
Landon holds up both hands. "I swear I didn't mean to, I was just out walking and ended up here," he explains. "Haven't seen you in a while."
Michael is his age, but his health has been declining since his retirement and it shows. He was quite the drinker in his early years, but then they all were, back before there were kids and mortgages. The abuse is starting to show in his eyes and the way his skin grows rougher and redder every time Landon sees him. Even his hands feel more like a lumberjack's than a retired railroad engineer's when they shake. Still, Landon thinks, it's good to see his old friend.
"Peter says you boys are going on a trip," Michael says as they walk back toward the lawnmower. To Landon's surprise they bypass it and head for the Adirondack chairs on the wide, neatly landscaped patio. Michael motions for him to sit - which he does gratefully, his legs aren't as strong as they used to be - and then keeps walking. He sticks his head into the back door and calls for Alexandria to bring them a drink.
When he comes back, he falls, more than sits, in the chair that matches Landon's. He lands with a grunt.
"How did you know about the trip?" Landon asks. "We just decided to go."
"Peter stopped by last evening."
"He did?" Landon hadn't realized that Peter and Michael were friends.
"Sure, he comes by about twice a week to see if we need anything, or just to chat. He's a good boy, Landon. You should be proud of him."
"I am, I am," Landon assures him. "What made him start coming by, Michael?"
Michael shrugged. "I think it was to pick up some old glass bottles we had in the garage. Alexandria gave them to him - he was making some kind of Mother's Day present for Melody, I think."
Landon nodded. He remembers. "A rain-tree, Peter called it. Makes music when raindrops hit the bottles. Melody loves that thing."
"Good, good. Anyway, after that, he started coming around more. We don't mind, he's good company."
"He is at that." Landon is suddenly proud of Peter. Michael and Alexandria never had any kids, even though they tried for years. Landon is sure the house gets too quiet at times. He has two kids and that still happens to him and Melody, too.
Alexandria comes out with a couple of glasses. "Lemonade," she says, smiling a hello at Landon. "It's good to see you, my friend."
Alexandria is the kind of woman who is elegant, even on days like today when she's running around in old jeans and a flowy sort of t-shirt thing that flatters her slim figure. She has sharp, striking features and long hair that's going silver. She still wears it down. Landon used to tease Michael about tricking such a beautiful woman into marrying him, and Michael, a wide, linebacker shaped man, always laughed, but one time he confessed that he did, in fact, feel exactly that way. Landon felt bad for him then, but now he's glad that Peter has adopted the couple that were his parents' best friends. There are lots of good memories there.
He stands up and gives her a quick hug. She smells good. When he sits back down he looks at the two of them, Alexandria standing with her hand on Michael’s shoulder, and sees what he didn’t see before - fatigue. Or worry. They were always a good-looking couple, and they still are, but now they seem to have grown matching crow feet around their eyes and a slump to their shoulders, as if the world has dealt a blow. He hopes all is well in the Kinley household, but it feels intrusive to ask.
Instead, he looks at his friend. "Well, Michael, the trip is why I came by, actually."
"Oh, yeah?" Michael sets down his lemonade on the small table between the chairs and sits up a little more. Landon had been about to ask him to keep an eye on Melody while he was gone, but that isn't what comes out of his mouth. Instead, he asks, "You want to come along? It'll just be us men. Well, us and the little one."
The words are almost as much a surprise to Landon as they seem to be to Michael. Why did he ask that? Why is he inviting his friend along without bothering to check with the boys first? It isn't like him.
On the other hand, this is supposed to be his trip. Isn't that what James said? A trip that was all about an adventure? Well, inviting surprise guests along only heightened the sense of adventure, didn't it? The boys wouldn't mind, especially if Peter is ha
nging around with Michael on a regular basis, anyway.
It also crosses his mind that Melody might feel better if there are more people around to keep an eye on him.
"Are you gonna do any hunting?" Michael asks.
Landon pauses. He hadn't thought about it, but now he does. "Probably not," he says slowly, "But I might ping at a squirrel or two, if the opportunity comes up."
He hasn't been hunting in quite a few years now, not since the boys were in high school. It might be good to keep his skills up and at least do some target shooting. The boys might like it, too. "Now that you mention it, it could be fun."
Michael is nodding. "I'll bring the Ruger, then."
"It never hurts to have a weapon in the woods with you," Landon agrees. "Even if we don't shoot, I'll probably carry something along, just in case."
Landon's particular scrap of mountaintop isn't particularly known for wildlife - a few deer wander through and maybe coyotes once in a while. Mostly the animals they see are rodents - squirrels, possums, a skunk. Harmless creatures, as long as a man pays attention. And that's one thing he always taught his boys - to pay attention in the woods.
"Sure then, I'll tag along," Michael says. "It'll probably be good for me."
Landon grins. "That's what my kids are thinking, too."
He glances up at Alexandria just as she turns away and goes back into the house. Before she does, he sees something like real fear on her face. He tries to see more, or tell if he is mistaken, but she’s gone.
What could she possibly be afraid of? Alexandria’s expression just now reminded him of Melody’s just a day ago. Is something wrong with Michael? Or Alexandria herself? She didn’t object to his going, not out loud, anyway, but maybe she’s worried about the guns? Why? She’s never expressed a distaste for guns before. She knows Michael is safe and that he knows what he’s doing.
He dismisses his curiosity. It’s none of his business. They talk about Michael's mower and finish their drinks. The lemonade is good - sweet and cold. Landon is glad he ended up here, if only for a half an hour.