Wounded (13 page)

David studied my eyes for a second. I could feel the breath he let out. “I’ll grab my jacket,” he said.

The frigid wind was blasting through the barn. I pushed the north door closed after us. With the wind-tunnel effect gone, we were immediately more comfortable and we could hear each other.

“Let’s check everybody’s water and blankets,” I said.

“Can you believe what you just heard?” David asked.

“I’m sorry, David.”

“That woman is younger than I am,” he said. “Roberts.” David shook his head and then let out a scream.

I turned to a rustling sound and found the mule standing in an open stall. I chuckled.

“What is it?” David asked.

“This mule may be a lot of things, but he’s not stupid. Throw him some hay and close him in.” I looked down the barn line. “Then we’ll walk the outside and make sure the outer stall doors are shut tight.”

“What should I do?” David asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I suppose you can decide that though he’s your father, he doesn’t have to be your friend. You don’t need his approval. You might want it; that’s another thing. But you don’t need it.”

“That makes sense.”

“And it was easy to say. Don’t use me as any source of wisdom, David. Just remember: There is a large bird called a pelican, whose mouth can hold more than his belly can; he can hold in his beak enough food for a week and I don’t know how the hell he can.”

“What’s that supposed to tell me?” he asked.

“That’s my point, son.” I slapped his shoulder. “Now, let’s finish out here before I freeze in place.” I could feel the work calm David, but the cold still drove us back to the house.

The whisky bottle was now on the table. Pamela and Howard were sitting next to each nursing glasses. The woman was making a fuss over the puppy, but Emily kept her distance, hanging tight to Gus’s legs while he washed dishes.

“It’s bad out there,” I said. “We must have six inches already. Where’s Morgan?”

“Upstairs,” Gus said.

David walked to the table and poured himself a tall Scotch.

“Well, at least drink it slow,” Howard said. “This is beautiful stuff. Aged in—” He stopped and turned to Pamela. “What kind of barrels?”

“Cherrywood.”

“Cherrywood barrels.” I could hear that Howard was tipsy.

To which David responded, “Fuck you.”

Howard looked at Pamela, wide-eyed, then laughed. The woman laughed with him.

David walked out of the room.

Gus tossed his towel onto the counter and said, “That’s it for me.”

“You’re not staying up for midnight?” Pamela asked.

“Nothing happens at midnight,” Gus said. “Nothing that can’t happen at ten o’clock or tomorrow morning. Good night, all.”

“Good night, Gus,” I said.

“Yeah, thanks for a great meal,” Howard said.

“Thank you,” from Pamela.

Gus left.

“You’re not turning in, too, are you?” Howard asked me.

“As a matter of fact. This snow is going to make a lot of work for me in the morning, so I’m advised to get some sleep.”

“Boo,” said Pamela.

“Sorry,” I said. “Good night.”

I walked out, looked down the hall and saw that David’s door was closed. I then climbed the stairs to find Morgan sitting on the bed. I sat beside her and asked what she was thinking about.

“Mother,” she said.

I put my arm around her. “It’s a tough time, these holidays.”

“Poor David,” she said.

“No kidding.”

“Are they drunk yet?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I can’t believe that you even know that man, much less that he’s a close friend.”

“Apparently, I don’t know him.” I got up, walked to the window, and watched the snow sift through the light of the vapor lamp on the barn. “Hopefully the snow will die down tonight, the roads will get plowed, and they’ll be out of here tomorrow.”

“Are you going back down there?” she asked.

“Do I look like I’ve just lost my mind? No, I say let’s get all snuggly in bed and pretend that we’re somewhere else.”

“Like the Arctic?”

“That works.”

The snow had done its job and made the world quiet. Momentarily. I awoke to shouting. Something like: “Fuck you!” and “Fuck you, too!” I sat up and looked at the clock; it was about midnight. Morgan awoke as well. She looked at me and tried to orient herself. She sat up.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I think Howard and David are fighting.”

Then Pamela’s voice split the deeper ones, “Stop it!”

“Shut up,” David shouted.

Then there was a silence.

I stepped to the door and opened it. Gus was standing inside his open door across the hall.

“Sounds bad,” he said.

A door slammed. I wondered if I should go down. If David had just closed himself up in his room, then it might all be over. I certainly didn’t want to hear anyone’s side of anything right then.

“I guess that’s it,” I said.

Gus closed his door and I went back to bed.

“Come in here and get warm,” Morgan said.

We started to kiss. I held Morgan and told her I loved her and I managed to get off her nightshirt. We had quiet, slow sex and then we lay in bed, watching the snow.

About a half-hour later there was a crash, breaking glass. Then a man’s voice cried out.

“Good lord,” I said. I threw back the covers and we got dressed. Gus followed us down the stairs and into the living room. The Scotch bottle was shattered on the floor and Howard was sitting on the sofa picking a shard of glass from his foot.

“What the Sam Hill?” Gus asked.

“I dropped the bottle,” Howard said. “Stepped on some glass.”

“Is it bad?” Pamela asked.

I looked down the hall and saw that David’s door was open and the light was on. “Where’s David?”

“He stormed out of here,” Howard said. “He drank some more whisky and got drunk and just stormed out.”

“When?” I asked.

“Awhile ago,” he said.

Gus went into the kitchen and came back. “His jacket’s in the mud room.”

“Damnit!” I said. “Howard, why didn’t you tell me!”

“So, he ran outside.”

“It’s ten-below out there.” I looked at Morgan. “I’ll look in the barns and you look around the outside of the house.”

“What’s going on?” Howard asked, beginning to understand that the situation was dire. He tried to focus on me through his drunkenness.

“Your son is out there with no coat and no boots, man.” I turned to Gus. “Make some coffee and try to sober them up.”

I pulled on my boots and parka and went out to the barns. I went through both twice and saw no sign of him. As I trotted back to the house I saw that the south gate was swinging with the wind. The gate had been closed. I sprinted back to the house.

Morgan was back inside. She shook her head.

Howard was shaking now, not from the cold, but from the realization of what had happened.

“Gus, I want you and Morgan to take the Jeep and drive up to the road, watch the sides. I’m going to ride south and search that way.”

Morgan was terrified. I kissed her forehead.

By the time I had saddled the App and was traveling south toward the hills, an hour and a half had passed since the slamming of the door, plenty of time for hypothermia to set in, especially with the alcohol in him. I hoped that his youth and strength would help him. I also hoped that he was just yards from the gate and not miles. The beam of my flashlight was useless and so I moved slowly, trying to let my eyes adjust and hoping the horse could see better than I. I called out.

Finally my eyes were serving me and I could see the shapes of trees and tops of ridges. I rode faster. Ice formed in my moustache. I rode a few miles, feeling completely useless and helpless. Then the horse shied. I brought her back around and tried to see what had spooked her. I was in some trees and I shone my light at the bases of them. I dismounted and took a few steps.

There was David. He raised a weak hand into my light. He was stiff with cold. His clothes were wet. I was so scared I was hopping in place, wondering what to do, trying to get my bearings. I looked down the slope and spotted the shape of a fallen tree that I had seen many times; I’d used it as a mile marker. I was about four miles from my house. I was about a mile from the cave. I pulled David up and over my shoulder and eased him over the saddle. I walked the horse to the cave and brought her in out of the snow. The complete darkness made her jumpy and I tried to calm her. I got David down and checked him with my light. He was blue. His respiration was shallow. His clothes were soaked through. I put my hand on his stomach and it was ice cold. I wanted to build a fire, but I had no dry wood. I had to get the wet clothes away from his skin. I took him deeper into the cave, away from the opening and the wind. I took off his shirt and pants and socks and underwear; everything was soaked. Then I took off my clothes that were wet on the outside as well. I needed to use my body heat to warm him up. I needed to use the warmest thing I could find and that was my own 98.6 degrees. I pressed myself against him, rubbing his iced fingers in my hands, putting them in my armpits, blowing on them. He was shivering like no one I had ever seen, his teeth chattering, his eyes rolling back and showing white. “Come on, David, stay with me.” I tried to warm his feet with my own. I thought that if he only lost some toes he’d be lucky. I kept talking to him. “It’s going to be all right, son, hang on.” I put my cheek on his.

He began to mutter things, more sounds than words. I tried to take that as a good sign. David moved his face to in front of me and he pressed his icy lips against mine. It took me a few seconds to realize it was a kiss. I had never been so confused. I let him kiss me, felt his shivering face soften to mine. I just wanted him warm, warmer. I couldn’t pull away; I was trying to save his life.

I COULD SEE
a bit of gray on the wall of the cave. Morning was trying to press inside. David was asleep. Still, I couldn’t see his face, but his breathing was strong. I turned on my light and studied him. I didn’t shine the beam down to his feet; I wasn’t ready for that. His stomach was no longer like ice. The constant temperature of the cave had saved both of us. I dressed and walked toward the entrance. It was early and I could see that the snow had stopped falling. The horse was standing calm just inside the mouth, her head low. I felt bad for having left her not only with the saddle but cinched tight. I released the girth and stroked her neck. I went back to David and woke him. He was groggy, but he sat up. He asked where he was.

“We’re in a cave,” I said.

“A cave?”

I imagined he felt his body and realized he was naked. “John, what’s going on here?”

I turned my light on again. “You got drunk, had a fight with your father, ran out into the snow with sneakers and no jacket, I followed you into the woods, found you, and brought you here to get warm.”

“I’m naked.”

“You were soaked.”

He was quiet while he sat there reconstructing the previous night, the flashlight illuminating the ceiling. “I got drunk,” he said.

“I’ll say.”

“Where am I?” he asked again.

“I brought you into this cave to get warm. It was closer than the house. How do you feel?”

“I don’t know.” I thought I heard him start to cry. He grabbed his shirt from near him on the ground and pulled it over his lap. “My toes hurt.”

“We’ll have to look at them later,” I said. “I’ve got to get you back to the house. You’re going to wear my boots.”

“I didn’t wear boots?” he asked.

“Like I told you, you ran out in your sneakers.” I was concerned that he still seemed disoriented.

“Shit.”

I nodded. “It’s relatively warm in here,” I told him. “But it’s freezing out there. We’re lucky, at least the snow has stopped. There are some people worried to death about us.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t worry about that now. Let’s just get home. Get dressed. Put on my jacket as well.”

“What about you?”

“I’m in better shape than you are, that’s for sure. Just do like I said. Get dressed and meet me over by the entrance.”

“My toes really hurt,” he said.

I put the light on them. They were frostbitten, that was certain. I didn’t know how badly. And since I didn’t know, it was unclear to me whether I should try to thaw them out or leave them alone. I took off my socks. “Here put these on. Yours are still wet.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll wear your sneakers. Now, hurry up.”

I was tightening the cinch when he joined me. He could barely walk. The front of his clothes were open.

“I can’t do the buttons,” he said. “My fingers hurt.”

I fastened up his trousers, shirt, and jacket.

I stuck a sneakered foot in the stirrup, thankful that his feet were slightly larger than mine, climbed up into the saddle, and then leaned down to help him onto the horse behind me. He was staring at my eyes and I was fairly sure he was remembering having kissed me.

“Come on, son, I’ve got to get you someplace warm, both of us someplace warm.” He took my arm. “Put your foot in the stirrup,” I said. I pulled him up. “We’re not going to ride fast, but it’s steep in places, so hold tight.” His clasped his hands around my waist. I rubbed the App’s neck. “Sorry, old girl.”

We rode off. The sky was clear and the snow was deep in places. My bare feet in the sneakers were aching and I could only imagine what they would have felt like sunk down into the snow and what David’s feet must have felt like. There was not much wind at first, but when we came around the last turn and started down the hill, a breeze tore through my shirt and reminded me of all sorts of things. I was sick with the fact that Morgan and Gus would be worried. I was concerned about the horse; I wanted to bring her into the house. I was concerned about David’s fingers and toes. The cold air made my nipples as tight and painful as I had ever felt them. But now I could see the house and so some kind of end. “There’s the house,” I said.

David didn’t respond. I could feel his breathing, but I couldn’t tell whether he was asleep or unconscious. As much as I hated to, I asked the App to trot across the big meadow. She was huffing.

I hit the south gate and saw a sheriff’s rig parked by the house. I called out and Morgan came blasting through the back door, calling out behind her for Gus. Gus and Bucky followed and they ran to us. Bucky and Gus took David down. He was just awake and again trying to get his bearings. They helped him into the house. Morgan helped me out of the saddle, hugged me tightly.

“Into the house,” she said.

“The horse,” I said. I loosened the girth.

“I’ll take care of the horse,” she said. “She can stand for a minute.”

“Okay,” I said. “She saved me, Morgan.” I could feel that I was a little disoriented, too, that perhaps I was suffering from the onset of hypothermia. “Into the house,” I said.

“Where are your boots?” she asked.

“The boy is wearing them.”

Morgan helped me up the steps and in through the back door. The house felt flat-out hot. But that was good. I knew that was good. My feet ached like mad as blood and feeling tried to creep back into them. Morgan took me into the living room and sat me in front of the stove.

“The horse,” I said.

“Okay, I’ll go out now.” She stroked my face, her hand feeling so warm. “You rest.”

“Make sure you get all the ice out of her feet. Get her legs good and warm and rub them down with liniment, put her in a closed stall, put a blanket on her, give her some grain.”

Morgan patiently listened, almost smiling. “Okay, sweetie.”

“Rub her ears a bit, the tips.”

“All right.”

I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke to voices. Zoe was lying with me on the sofa, her back to me. I stroked her fur and felt her breathing. Gus’s doctor, a fat man named Pep Clayton, was standing not far from me talking to Morgan. I sat up and Zoe moved to the floor. Clayton and Morgan turned to me.

“Pep,” I said.

“John.”

“Am I dead or do I just feel like it?”

“You just feel like it.” He put a hand on my face. “You’re fine. You no doubt saved that young man’s life.”

I tried to stand, but felt weak. I noticed that my feet didn’t ache. Someone had put thick socks on me.

The doctor put a hand on my shoulder and pressed me back into the sofa. “You need to rest.”

“How’s David?” I asked.

“He’s resting in the other room,” Morgan said.

“He could be worse,” Clayton said. “He’ll make it through this just fine.”

“What about his feet?” I looked at Clayton’s eyes.

“He’ll lose a few nails, but no toes. His fingers are all right.” Clayton sat beside me. “How’d you make it through the night?”

“I took him into a cave. He was soaked and it was closer than the house. It’s warmer in there. His belly was like ice.”

“He’s pretty weak. He’ll probably sleep for a while. I told his father and Morgan that they have to keep him warm, massage his limbs, keep the blood flowing.”

“How’s the horse?” I looked at Morgan.

She smiled at me. “The horse is fine.”

“Is David asleep now?” I asked.

Morgan nodded.

Gus came into the room. “I’m glad to see you in one piece,” he said.

“Me, too.” I looked at the window and at the bright light outside. “What time is it?”

“Nearly two,” the doctor said.

“Two,” I repeated. I was still trying to wrap my mind around all that had happened. “Where’s Howard?”

“He’s pretty shaken up,” Gus said. “He’s sitting in there with David. Pamela’s in the kitchen. She’s making soup, she says.”

I looked at the fire in the stove. It was hissing and popping with a new log. I reached down and rubbed Zoe’s head.

“Well, I’ll be going,” Clayton said. “There’s not much else for me to do around here.”

“Thanks for coming out here, Pep.”

“I’ll see you out,” Morgan said and walked away with the doctor toward the front door.

“Is Bucky here?” I asked Gus.

“No, once he saw you were both here, he left.”

“Is he okay, Gus?”

“I think so,” Gus said. “You want something to eat?”

“Not really. I’d like some tea.”

“I’ll get it.” Gus stopped and looked at me for a couple seconds. “You sure you’re all right?”

I nodded. “Why?”

He shook his head. “Warm enough?”

“I’m good.” I watched him walk away. I pushed myself to stand and made my way to David’s room. Howard was sitting on a straight-backed chair beside the bed. David was bundled in blankets, one of them electric.

Howard quickly got up when he saw me. “God, John, I don’t know how to thank you.”

“How is he?”

“Good, I think. He looks awful, but the doctor was positive about everything. His toes are the worst.”

I scratched at my head. My skin felt dry everywhere. I knew I needed to rest, but I really wanted a hot shower.

“I’ve never been so scared in my life,” Howard said.

It was then that I realized I was angry with the man and not in a generous mood, because, without thinking, I said, “You’re sober enough now to be scared.”

Howard froze. He didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t imagine what I would have said had I been him.

“You drink like that all the time or was that just your party face?”

“John, Pamela and I—”

“Pamela and you what?”

“Pamela’s young.”

“And what’s your excuse?”

“John, I—”

I stopped him. “Why is she here? Did you think David was going to want to meet her? What was that all about?” He tried to speak again. “Listen,” I said, “I don’t want to hear it right now. Maybe never, I don’t know. I want your son to be well. I want him to see you sitting by that bed when he opens his eyes and I don’t want Pamela in this room.”

“You’re being a little harsh,” he said.

“A little harsh?” I asked. “I must be tired or you must be misreading me because I mean to be very harsh. I’m going to get some rest.” With that I turned away from him and went into the kitchen.

Pamela was stirring her soup at the stove. Gus was just pouring the hot water into the mugs. Pamela was thankfully covered in a sweater.

“You’re up,” she said.

“Yes.” I looked at her and she could see the fight still in my eyes and she shrank away slightly. “Pamela, you seem like a nice person. I don’t have anything against you and I don’t know much about you. But I’d like you to somehow find a way to leave this ranch, with or without Howard as soon as you can.”

I don’t know what I expected, but her reaction must have fallen within the range of my expectations, because I was not surprised when she ran out of the room, holding her face in her hands, weeping.

The coyote came to me and jumped up against my leg. I gave her head a pat and looked at the stump of her leg.

“You want milk?” Gus asked.

“No, thanks.”

“Morgan’s out checking on the horses.”

“That’s good.”

Morgan stepped into the shower with me. I wanted to grab her and kiss her, but I was too wiped out. She rubbed my shoulders and then began to lather up my head with shampoo.

“That feels good,” I said.

“I love your hair,” she said.

“What’s left of it,” I said.

“You’re crazy. You’ve got nothing but hair up here.”

“Very funny.”

“Gus told me what you said to Pamela.”

“I feel a little bad about that,” I said. I put my face to the spray to rinse my eyes of shampoo. “I suppose I was venting.”

“I suppose.”

“Is she still crying?”

“Probably. I don’t know. I believe that Howard is getting ready to leave with her.”

I nodded. It was not an unexpected turn. What else could he do? He was planning to marry the woman so he couldn’t very well send her alone on her way. Still, I was hoping he’d stay around for David.

“You’ve been in here long enough,” Morgan said. “Time to get out, eat something, and go to bed.”

“Yes, doctor.”

“First, I’m going down to talk to Howard.”

“First, you’re going to let me dry your body and get you dressed.”

“If you insist.”

The hot shower had cooled me off somewhat. I felt bad for what I’d said to Howard and Pamela, but still I thought it would be better if they left. I made my way downstairs and into the den where they were slowly packing.

“Howard, Pamela,” I said. I considered apologizing.

Pamela said nothing, but she tugged at the bottom of her shirt that barely covered her navel. She stuffed a sweater into her bag.

“We’ll be gone soon,” Howard said, coolly.

“I’m sorry things worked out this way,” I said.

“It’s not your fault,” Howard said. “It’s certainly not your fault.”

“Pamela, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” My words might have been sincere, but they weren’t true.

“Do you want your scarf in the bag or out?” she asked Howard.

“Out,” he said.

I backed away, imagining that Howard’s request was not merely a response to Pamela, but a command to me. I looked down the hall at David’s door. I walked to it, waited a few seconds, then walked in. David was asleep but awoke as I stood there. I moved to the foot of his bed.

“Warm enough?” I asked.

“Too warm,” he said.

I reached down and picked up the control for the electric blanket. It was set on ten. “Maybe Gus was planning to serve you for dinner. I think I can just turn this off now.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“You bet. How are you feeling?”

“My toes still hurt,” he said. “But not as much. I believe that’s supposed to be a good sign. Gus told me that. Gus told me everything. I’m sorry.”

I just looked at him, not sure what he was talking about. “Sorry?”

“Sorry for running out like a stupid child and causing everybody to worry.” He closed his eyes for a second. “Sorry I made you come out there and have to save me. I feel like such a jerk.”

“Hey, you would have come out after me,” I said. “You were upset. That’s understandable. And apparently, you shouldn’t drink.”