Gooseberry Island

Gooseberry Island Copyright © 2014

“Steven Manchester has a gift for expressing through his writing the complicated and transcendent beauty of the human experience with poignant clarity.”
– Yolanda King, eldest daughter of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

“Steven Manchester writes about life as it really is and really could be.”
– Crystal Book Reviews

“Steven Manchester has become one of my must-read authors.”
– Literary R&R

“I really liked Steven Manchester’s poetic writing style and ability to construct such a vivid, exciting, and impassioned story line full of heartbreak, inspiration, hope, love, and faith.”
– Book Trib

“Steven Manchester is the Norman Rockwell of literature!”– Literarily Illumined

“Steven Manchester really knows how to write family . . . I cannot wait to read more by this author!”
– The Grand World of Books

“Mr. Manchester’s exquisite writing style makes this poignant story memorable and a joy to read.”
 – Long and Short Reviews

“Manchester is a writer of great emotional depth.”
 – The View From the Phlipside   “I would put him higher than Nicholas Sparks.”
 – Community Bookshop

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

The Story Plant

Studio Digital CT, LLC

P.O. Box 4331

Stamford, CT 06907

Copyright © 2014 by Steven Manchester

Jacket design by Barbara Aronica Buck

Print ISBN-13 978-1-61188-180-6

E-book ISBN-13 978-1-61188-181-3

Visit our website at
www.TheStoryPlant.com

All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever, except as provided by US Copyright Law. For information, address The Story Plant.

First Story Plant Printing: January 2015

Printed in The United States of America

0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

It was late dusk, early spring.
David was on his fourth date in two weeks with Allison. With the top down, they drove along a coastal highway in his beat-up Mustang convertible, while Allison applied the finishing touches of makeup in the rearview mirror. She smiled at her reflection, obviously pleased with what she saw. David shook his shaved head and readjusted his gaze to the stars above. “What a perfect night to lie on the beach and count the stars,” he said, revealing the depth of his thoughts.

Allison was still in the mirror. “David,” she blurted, “you said you were taking me dancing.”

He never paid her any mind. He was too distracted. “Ever wonder if there’s other life out there, Alli,” he asked, “you know, maybe even making wishes on our sun?”

Allison finally removed herself from the mirror and shot him a look that asked,
Are you serious?
He never noticed. “Come to think of it, no,” she said, cynically. “No, I’ve never wondered that.” She looked down at her nails. “But I have wondered why this nail polish looked red in the store and now it doesn’t.” She sighed. “This putrid shade of purple doesn’t even match my shoes.”

David returned to the present and looked at his shallow date. Shaking his head, he scanned the channels until reaching a station playing soft rock. He left it there and looked back toward the sky. Allison finished her makeup, pushed the rearview mirror back toward him and switched the radio to pulsating techno music. He looked at her. She smiled, oblivious to the rude gesture.

“I was thinking it might be nice to spend a quiet night together,” he said. “We could talk until the sun came up and really get to know each other.” He began daydreaming aloud. “Share our pasts, our dreams…what we really want for the future.”

“I’d rather dance,” she said.

David was taken aback. “You’d what?”

“You heard me,” she said, with equal amounts of vanity and crudeness. She looked at him and attempted compassion. “Truth is, Davey, I hate talking with you. You’re too intense and it depresses me.”

He was even more shocked. “I’m what?”

She looked the other way and breathed heavily. “I hate this part,” she mumbled under her breath, and then turned her body to face him. “Maybe it’s good that we have this talk now, before you…”

“Before I what?” he interrupted.

“Before you get too attached.” She took another deep breath, and the rest came out in one callous blurt. “It’s only been a few dates, but it’s not working, Davey. I just want to have fun. I’m young.”

He chuckled, cynically. “Young? You’re almost thirty.”

The comment made her snap. “Fine! But I’m old enough to know that you’re worse than a girl.”

Instinctively, he pulled the car off to the side of the road. The moon shone brightly on them both. “Worse than
a girl
?” he barked.

Her face was incredibly smug. “Well, since I met you, all you ever do is babble about faith and dreams and finding a soul mate.” She nodded. “It’s true, you’re worse than a girl.” The pitch of her voice could have turned a popsicle headache into a full brain freeze.

He felt like strangling the conceited wench. Instead, he threw the shifter into drive and sped off.

Allison looked sorry for the last comment, but not enough to remain quiet. “I think we should both play the field and see other people,” she suggested.

“Alli,” David said, “I’m not sure there’s a whole lot of field left for you to play.” He snickered. “Besides, I’m leaving in a week and…” He stopped.

She didn’t get it and looked at him blankly for an explanation.

David peered at her and, within seconds, his anger was replaced by a smile that took up most of his baby face. A minute later, he felt ready for laughter.
She’s just done me the biggest favor ever,
he realized.

Alli clearly didn’t know what to make of the change in facial expressions. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, nervously.

“Don’t be, Alli,” he said. “Don’t be. You’re so right it’s actually hilarious.” He nodded. “I was hoping we might make a connection before I shipped out, but it didn’t happen. Trust me, it’s not a big deal.”

Allison looked hurt. “Look, I know I’m not the right one for you…” She slid closer to him. “But maybe I could be the right one for tonight?” she whispered.

David pulled the car into her driveway and threw the shifter into park. He looked back toward the sky. “
Tonight
would never be enough for me, Alli.” He shrugged. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Shocked by the sudden breakup, Alli got out of the car and shot him a longing look.

With a sense of relief, David pulled out of the driveway, leaving her to pout like the spoiled brat she was.

David punched a few numbers into his cell phone. “Coley, it’s Dave. Where are you?” He grinned and rolled his eyes. “Right. Where else would you be? I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He listened to his friend and shook his head. “No. Nothing’s wrong. I just need to talk.” He closed the cell phone and pressed down on the accelerator.

Ten minutes later, David reached the Eagle. As he walked into the busy nightclub, he spotted Coley standing at the bar. His handsome friend was talking to some unsuspecting female victim. David stepped up and yelled his drink order over the loud music, “A Coors Light, please.” Coley noticed his friend and whispered something into the girl’s ear. She giggled, nodded at David, and then walked away. David looked at Coley and shook his head. Coley smiled. With beers in hand, both men turned and placed their backs against the bar to face the action on the dance floor. David was completely out of his element, while Coley looked right at home.

“What’d you just tell her?” David asked over the thumping music.

Coley grinned. “I said that you and I had business, but once I got rid of you…” He smiled and took a swig of beer. “I’d be back for some serious
business
with her.”

David shook his head and took a swig of his suds.

“So what drags you into my dark world?” Coley asked.

David took a look around, unsure whether he should go on. “I don’t know, Coley. Maybe I came to the wrong place.”

Coley gestured for his friend to follow him. “Come on,” he yelled, and started through the crowd toward a quieter corner. David was right behind him. Once there, Coley said, “Trust me, you’ve come to the right place. Now, go ahead. I’m listening.” His grin was contagious.

Reluctantly, David reported, “Alli, that girl I just started dating…I just dropped her off at her house.”

“Already?” Coley asked, surprise painting his face. “What happened?”

“For starters, she told me we should both see other people.”

Coley smirked. “And that’s a problem?”

David scowled at him and took a long draw of his beer. “She implied that we could still hook up, but…”

Coley nearly spit out a mouthful of beer. “You passed?” he asked, confused. “I don’t understand.”

David shook his head. “Alli loves herself so much that there’d never be room for me…or anyone else, for that matter.”

“Well, I can relate to that,” Coley muttered.

David glared at his friend. “You’re pathetic.”

“No, just realistic.” There was a pause. “Dave, not everyone feels comfortable swimming at the deep end of the pool. Don’t be so judgmental. We each make different choices in life. That doesn’t make any of us any better or worse.” He smirked. “Maybe just a little less brave?”

David pondered Coley’s words and chuckled. “Whoa!” he said. “For someone who can’t handle
deep
…”

“I know,” Coley interrupted, comically. “It’s scaring me too.” He smirked. “I think maybe it’s you who’s the bad influence.” Coley looked around the room and caught another pretty girl’s attention. “Sad part is,” he reported, “they’re all the same. You can’t trust any of them.”

“Hello kettle, this is Coley,” David joked. “You’re black.” After a long chuckle, he shook his head. “I don’t know, buddy. I think you’re wrong there.”

Coley pretended to be annoyed. “Did you come here to tear me up?”

“I’m just messing with you.” David laughed. “Seriously, I appreciate your ear.”

Coley nodded. “Not a problem, partner,” he said, and then searched his friend’s face. “For real, are you okay?”

David nodded, convincingly. “I am.”

Coley shrugged. “Maybe it’s for the best, anyway…with you heading off next weekend?”

“Maybe,” David admitted.

Coley looked back toward the dance floor and eyed up the pretty one he’d been talking to at the bar. They exchanged a playful smile. Coley sighed. “In that case, my man, I’ve done all I can here.” He finished his beer. “Wish me luck,” he said, grinning. “If you need me, I’ll be at the shallow end of the pool.” And with a wink, he headed back toward the dance floor.

“Try not to drown yourself,” David yelled.

To David’s surprise, Coley turned back and stopped. “My point exactly!” he said, smiling. “Not a chance.” At that very moment, the swaying crowd swallowed him whole.

David rolled his eyes, thinking,
And this is the help I get?
He finished his beer, scanned the room once and shook his head.
This lifestyle is definitely not for me,
he thought, and stepped out into the dark night.

Lindsey Wood sat on the edge of the couch, watching as her dad fought valiantly—like an old soldier sensing his end.

Denis Wood, the decorated Operation Desert Storm veteran, was nearly rolled into a ball in his worn recliner. Covered in a film of toxic sweat, the man’s extremities twitched and convulsed.

He must be replaying an old battle in his mind
, she figured.

Denis’s breathing became heavy and labored as he shook his head from side-to-side. “No,” he moaned, “Oh God, no!”

Lindsey held her breath, hoping that he’d open his eyes soon.

“Marc,” Denis screamed. “They’re everywhere. We’ve gotta get out now!”

Please wake up
,
Dad
, she thought, knowing that if she attempted to roust him from his nightmares, there was a very good possibility that he’d attack her—instantly, violently.

Three war cries later, he awoke panting, his chest heaving. His face soaked in tears and mucous, he slowly turned toward her. His squinted eyes were filled with a murderous rage.

Lindsey sat at a safe distance, holding her breath until his distant eyes traveled all the way back to the present. She’d learned when she was much younger—after her mother had finally left them for good—that there was a critical time period that needed to be respected, and it varied. Without even realizing it, her dad would lash out with a terrifying ferocity. On two separate occasions, she’d suffered a black eye and bloody nose, and felt blessed that she’d gotten away so easily each time.

“It’s all right, Pop,” she whispered. “It was just another bad dream.”

“Yeah,” he said, gasping for air. “Right. Just a bad dream,” he repeated, while his eyes were still making their way home. He shook his head, closed his eyes tight and took a deep breath. “Bad dreams when I’m sleeping and nightmares when I’m awake.”

“It’s getting bad again?” she asked, the rhetorical question intended to make him share his thoughts and feelings with her.

“Worse than it’s ever been, I suppose.” He opened his eyes and looked at her. “I’m not sure how much more I can take, Linds.” The sorrow in his voice was deep and sincere.

“Have you talked to Dr. Alonso about it?” she asked.

“All we do is talk,” he answered. He shut his eyes tightly again, trying to block out some of the pain.

“What about your medication? When’s the last time you…”

“There’s no middle ground there, Linds,” he interrupted. “I’m either tortured with old pictures that I can’t get out of my head…faces of dead men that keep screaming for me to help save them.” He slowly opened his eyes again. “Or I’m a drooling zombie who can’t remember to unzip my fly when it’s time to take a leak.”

“Maybe you should consider checking in to the hospital?”

“For what, another tune-up that won’t add up to a piss hole in a snowbank?”

“Anything’s better than sitting in that recliner, thinking about different ways of checking out.”

His eyes opened wide at her frightened tone. “You sure about that?” he asked.

Her eyes filled, but she never left his gaze. “I am, Dad,” she said.

He closed his eyes again and took another deep breath. “Okay then,” he muttered, finally surrendering. “Hopefully they’ve hired better mechanics at that butcher shop they call a hospital.”

On the ride to the VA Hospital, Lindsey stole several glances at her father, making her heart ache. Denis Wood was a quiet, heavyset man who lived in a state of emotional catastrophe since returning home from the first Persian Gulf War. For years, he relied on his bitter wife to take care of the smallest details. But by the time Lindsey was twelve years old, the woman had taken enough and packed her things—never to look back.

Without me, he’d be completely lost
, Lindsey thought, stealing another sideways look at him. Together, over the years, they’d set up a mundane routine for him—safe and predictable. But he’d become a shell of the man he’d once been and they both knew it.

Before she’d left, Lindsey’s mom said that he’d lost his faith. Lindsey knew better.
Mom took his soul with her when she abandoned us both,
she thought.
She’d carried enough magic for the both of them, so when she left, the rest of his light went out
.

The VA Hospital’s façade was clean and manicured. Old Glory snapped and popped in the wind out front, while white-painted rocks surrounded the shrine in meticulous military fashion.

Lindsey’s father opened his eyes and cringed. “The Nut House,” he murmured.

“It’ll be fine,” Lindsey said, and parked the car. But after dozens of similar trips, they both knew better. This was just part of the vicious cycle that no one knew how to break.