Morning Star (6 page)

"Wow," Kenny said from the barn door.

Tommy stepped out from his father's shadow.

"Don't you have work to do boy?"

Travers wheeled around. 

"Go sit in the jeep son. The both of you."

Tommy mumbled  under his breath. He slapped the jeep's canvas hood before he jumped in the back seat.

Travers stepped nearer to Nate.

"Sorry 'bout the boy. Temperamental, since he was a youngin'." 

He took off his hat and ran a handkerchief across the sweatband.

"A thousand dollars for a horse that technically doesn't even belong to you. Sounds like a fair deal to me."

"It's fair enough but the horse stays at The Rising Sun for as long as he wants to."

Travers inspected his hat before he put it on.

"If you change your mind you know where to find me." He placed the hat on his head, adjusting it until it barely rode above his eyes, and walked back to his jeep, staring at the corral the entire time. 

As the jeep made its way to the driveway, Tommy's arm extended into the air, his hand formed a fist, before his index finger sprang up high and straight. It stayed that way until they were out of sight.

"Tommy's a troublemaker Mister Walker," Kenny said from behind him.

Nate nodded his head in agreement.

From the corral, the dark blue, almost black, horse watched the vehicle move down the driveway. He watched, not moving a muscle, until the jeep disappeared from his sight and then he turned his head back to the house, angling it up to face the second floor window. 

And shooting stars were in his eyes.

18

A night as black as coal fell upon him. He tried to move but could not. The jungle had him. It held tight to his ankles and would not let go. Somewhere above him a helicopter circled, a Huey by the sound of it. He looked up into a canopy of trees, blocking the sky. He looked down. He carried an M16. He wore jungle fatigues. He was back in Vietnam, back on night patrol, walking the point. Except he wasn't walking. He couldn't walk. The jungle had him and refused to let go.

"Problems, Calico Man?" 

It sounded like Dave Jeffries. He recognized the voice. He remembered Jeffries from his first tour of Vietnam, the reality tour. He remembered holding his friend while he died in his arms. 

"The picture of Rosie in my wallet. Get it out." He said then. It was sometime in August of '67. He forgot the exact date. Jeffries had been gut shot. Nothing could save him.

He found the wallet and the picture of Rosie, Jeffries wife. He married her the day before he left for 'Nam.
She wanted the ring
he said.
You know how women are.
 

He pulled the photograph out of the plastic. He knew where he would find it. His friend looked at that picture every day. He'd see him take out his wallet and open it. He'd see him hold it up to his eyes and look. And he'd see him put it away, always patting his pants pocket to make certain it was there.

"Hold it up in front of me, close to my face. I can't lift my arms, Nate."

He moved the picture of his wife in front of his best friend's eyes and he saw them focus in on her. Nate held the picture of Rosie there until he had gone and then he put it in his friend's shirt pocket. The girl who wanted the ring, now close to his heart.

"You look stuck, Calico Man."

Nate was the Calico Man then. That's what his buddies called him. He earned the nickname by tumbling face first into a muddy swamp one night on patrol. The mud covered his face in brown blotches, and the next morning Jeffries made a point of telling everyone that Nate bore a striking resemblance to his calico cat, Puddin'.

"The jungle got ya, Calico Man?"

He couldn't turn to see him. He could only look forward.

"That you Dave?"

"Yeah it's me. Who else you think it would be?"

"I thought you were dead, Dave. I thought you took one in the Khai Lai Pass?" 

"I did take one there. Bad boy got me right here. Oh, that's right, you can't move. Hold on."

He heard a rustling behind him. 

"That better?"

Dave Jeffries stood in front of him looking very much alive. He wore a freshly washed set of fatigues, even his boots looked clean.

"Got me right here," he said and pointed to his stomach.

"I want to thank you for honoring my last request Calico Man. I took her with me because of you, at least a small part of her."

"Took her where?"

Dave Jeffries smiled. "It's a good place Nate." He swung his arms out. "A lot better than this dump, that's for sure."

He leaned in closer. "You know you're having a flashback, déjà vu, whatever the hell you want to call it. You know that right?"

"Yeah, I know that."

"Well since you're here I've got a message for you from home." Dave Jeffries looked around. "It's not real safe here so I'll make it quick. Katy says to find the flower. She says you'll know what it looks like when you see it. She says to plant it in the garden. Hey, I know. It didn't make sense to me either but that's the message. Oh yeah, one other thing. She said let our girl ride the horse. That's it. Let her ride the horse."

Jeffries took a step closer. "Sorry to hear about your daughter. Katy's with you on this. She's with you all the way and so are your parents. Gotta go now and so do you."

Dave Jeffries began to fade away, and when Nate could see the jungle through him, his friend said one final thing.

"I still see Rosie every day, Nate."

19

He stayed perfectly still when he woke. His blinking eyes the only movement. He turned his head to the right. Cindy lay there sleeping. He turned to the left. The alarm clock by the bed read 3:10 a.m.

Nate eased himself out of the bed. He did not want  to wake Cindy. As he walked to the open window, he could see the clear, star filled sky illuminating the warm, night air.

His eyes moved to the corral. The horses were gone from the area, tucked away in their stalls. All but one. Morning Star stood at the corral's gate. The horse seemed to be staring at the house. Nate squinted. The animal appeared to be peering at a window on the second floor, Dannie's room.

Let her ride the horse.
What was meant by that? The dream had been so real. The jungle, his friend, the words. This wasn't like his other dreams, his other nightmares. This was different somehow. He rubbed his eyes and wouldn't have been surprised if Morning Star had disappeared when he opened them. But he was still there looking up at the window where his daughter slept. He heard Cindy murmur something and move under the sheets. He needed to be strong now. He had to get his mind in the right place. No more flashbacks, no more nightmares. People needed him here in this world. He stared at the solitary horse in the corral. Whether real or imagined, he was needed here.

He crawled into bed, hoping he wouldn't disturb  Cindy. She slept lightly, shaking him awake from time to time if she heard him talking in his sleep.

The phone rang at 8:30 in the morning. Nurse Edmonton answered it on the third ring. Cindy had left for work and Dannie was again visiting Morning Star at the corral.

"Walker residence," she said.

"Martha?"

"Yes." 

"Mike Fleming, how are you doing?"

"I'm doing good Doctor Fleming, and you?"

"Just fine Martha. I'm glad you answered. I'm checking up on our young patient. How is Danielle doing?"

"She's coming along nicely," the nurse said.

"You sound like you're referring to something in the oven. Details please."

She looked outside the window. The doctor would not like the next part.

"She seems healthier. In good spirits." She hesitated. "Walking with her father."

"Walking with her father?" The doctor asked in a surprised voice.

"It was against my advice of course, but the girl seems to be getting a little stronger."

The doctor sighed into the phone. "Listen, we all want little Danielle to get better. We start to perhaps imagine things, see things the way we'd like them to be and not the way they actually are. Danielle's condition will get progressively worse. End of story. She might be in a better mood because she's back home. But she will never get better and she will never again walk on her own."

Doctor Fleming hesitated for a moment. It sounded to Martha Edmonton like he took a drink of something, coffee probably.

"I'm afraid Martha, that, despite your optimism,  Danielle's glass will always be half empty, never half full."

The nurse looked out the window. Nathan Walker squatted on the ground a few feet from the corral. Dannie leaned against the wooden fence, facing him. The horse they called Morning Star watched from the corral, directly above her. Her father held out his arms and motioned to the girl. She hesitated and then, in slow staggering steps, walked the short distance to her father's waiting arms.

"Dear God," the nurse whispered.

"What was that, Martha?" came the voice from the phone.

"You are wrong, Doctor Fleming," she said into the receiver. "This glass
is
half full."

20

On the morning of the last Friday of July, the day before the wedding, Nate took his daughter to the hospital for some tests. It was to be her first weekly visit as agreed upon the day she checked out.

Her father assured Dannie repeatedly that this would not be an overnight stay and she'd be snug in her own bed by nightfall.

Dannie took no chances however. She produced a handwritten sheet of paper before they left the house. It read: 

I will stay with Dannie the whole time. NOT DROP HER OFF! I promise to bring her home by supper time. SHE HATES THE FOOD THERE! 

Two lines ran across the bottom of the page. One for her father's signature. The other for a witness. 

“You don’t want it notarized?” Nate said after looking it over.

“No need,” Dannie replied.

Nate saw Dannie’s nurse coming down the stairway. She carried a knapsack loaded with the girl’s necessities. Necessities meant coloring books, her stuffed bear, and a bag of strawberry Twizzlers. Nurse Edmonton was loosening up. 

“Just in time Martha. I need a witness.”

She flung the full knapsack over her shoulder as she walked toward them. A petite woman at slightly under five feet tall and no spring chicken at fifty eight years of age, Martha Edmonton had yet to ask for help in any task at the ranch. Nate liked that.

She took the paper from Nate and glanced at it. When she passed it back a pen was with it.

"Looks official to me. Better sign it."

Once signed and witnessed Dannie folded the paper into her shirt pocket and announced she was ready to get this over with.

Katy's parents met them in the hospital lobby. Al and Margaret had witnessed Dannie's remarkable improvement over the last few days but were still amazed when she walked across the hospital tiles without the assistance of Nate or the nurse.

"Unbelievable," Al said as Margaret applauded vigorously.

Doctors Matthews and Fleming greeted them in the reception area. Dannie walked up to each and shook their hands.

"Let's get this over with," she said. "I've got a wedding to get ready for."

Dannie and her nurse walked off together. Dannie turned and winked at the gathering  before the door to the examination shut behind her. 

"And why couldn't we go in there with her?" Margaret asked.

"No family this time. Dannie was okay with it," Nate said.

They waited together, not saying much. Cindy and Margaret spent most of the time together, talking quietly. 

Al found Nate at the window, looking at the street below but seeing nothing, his mind on what was happening behind closed doors. 

"I'm so happy you're marrying Cindy, Margie is too," he said and clasped Nate's shoulder before he walked back to his seat.

The wall clock directly in front of them read 2:35 pm. It had been almost five hours since they arrived. Doctor Matthews came in through the door behind them.

"If you'd like to follow me, you can see Danielle now. All of you please come this way."