Night of a Thousand Dreams
A miserable Adam McFadden sank onto the mattress of his bed and groaned. Every muscle-no, every individual fiber of his being-throbbed and ached with stomach churning agony.
He swung his legs from the floor to the bed and the swiveling motion ignited another series of screaming pain sensors.
Adam wiped his mouth.
He felt eighty, not eighteen.
His day had proved pretty unremarkable until he took that misstep off of the barn loft. With his attention focused upon the tremendous floor chest of tools Adam planned to slide against a wall of the loft, he failed to take into account his proximity to the edge.
Luckily the chest had remained on the top floor after he crashed.
The fall to the barn floor and impact of the landing winded him, and Adam lay motionless while gaining control of his breathing. Cautiously, he checked his body for breaks.
When he finally rolled over and pulled himself to his feet he realized that his bruised body had no intention of letting him off lightly. He limped to the house and cleaned up, but decided against sitting down or resting. If he didn't put energy back into using all of his muscles at once he feared they would lock up on him. Adam gritted his teeth and resumed work, stopping only when parenting duties called him to the house.
Obligations remained, no matter how badly he hurt.
Homework, chores, supper, baths, and bedtimes demanded his attention. Relying on his mental strength he held the excruciating pain at bay until he stood under a scalding hot shower and endured the battering from sharp stabs of water. The assault on his body highlighted the physical toll the fall had reaped and it took reliance on his reserves of inner strength to finish bathing and to limp to his room.
An earlier investigation of the locked medicine chest had produced a bottle of painkillers prescribed the year before. Adam squinted at the container's fine print but couldn't locate an expiration date.
This prescription, then, would have to do.
It would have to serve the purpose.
Adam couldn't prevent a moan from escaping as he leaned against the headboard and yanked the covers over himself. He swallowed the painkillers with a gulp of water, pushed the glass to the bedside table, and slid down in the bed.
Hopefully the pills would ensure him sleep and a much needed break from the intense pain.
The past couple of days had proved especially taxing family-wise, even without the plunge from the loft. Sometimes parenting itself left him physically and mentally exhausted and he would toss through sleepless hours as he worried about his younger brothers.
Daniel, for instance, had staged a dramatic meltdown just the afternoon before. After a third contact from the school informing him that Daniel persisted in blurting comments for the entertainment of his friends during class instruction, Adam lowered the boom.
"Why are you angry at me?" The second grader defended himself. "I told you and told you the teacher just gets mad for no reason! The other kids like when I talk."
Adam regarded the little delinquent. Even with a scowl across his face, Daniel's dark, swarthy features melded to create a truly good looking, head-turning child. He resisted the lure of the handsome face, though, and responded with a no nonsense tone. "This conversation has ended. You recall that I spoke to you about your job in the classroom after the very first call from your teacher…."
Arms crossed over his chest, Daniel interjected "She said that but I…"
Adam snapped, "Do not interrupt me again and do not speak again until I tell you to talk. I am done giving you second chances over your determination to entertain your class. I promised you I would punish you if another call came and now that that call has occurred."
Daniel's scowl deepened and he positioned his lips into a pout.
"Look right at me." Adam tilted Daniel's chin up toward him.
Daniel maintained his scowl but made eye contact.
"Now," Adam's voice softened. "Once again, the rule I expect you to follow at school is to not speak unless you raise your hand and the teacher calls on you to speak. Because you refused to obey your teacher today she punished you with no recess. I am also punishing you. Tell me why I am, Daniel."
"I don't know." Daniel tried to squirm backwards but Adam placed a strong, steadying hand on his shoulder.
"Try again," Adam ordered.
Daniel kicked the toe of his sneaker into the floor. "My job at school is to do a good job there."
"Correct. What else?"
"Trouble at school means trouble at home," Daniel finally admitted.
Adam grinned. "I knew you would come across with the right answer." He leaned down and embraced his little boy. "School is your number one priority."
Head buried in Adam's waist, Daniel murmured. "I don't want a spanking. Ever. At all."
"No spanking this time," Adam ran his fingers through the thick hair. "Tonight you're heading to bed when Guthrie goes, however. No television, no free time, and no fun things. I love you but I will not allow you to disrespect your teacher or to continue to disobey her or me."
At the terms of the punishment a shocked Daniel stepped back and wiped at his eyes. "Ok, I'll stop. I promise I won't blurt out things any more."
"Glad to hear that," Adam encouraged. "And I think you mean it. Just as a heads up though, if I get a fourth call about you I will spank. Understand?"
"I understand."
"Ok," Adam leaned down to kiss the top of the dark head. "Upstairs and bathe."
Daniel regarded him in disbelief. "It's not even supper yet, Adam."
"No, it's not. But since you'll be in bed right after supper you won't have time to bathe after you eat. So march yourself upstairs right now and tend to your bath."
Adam buoyed himself with positive thoughts. Hopefully the punishment would address the current Daniel problem and no further incidents would transpire.
Cautiously, Adam eased up and punched the pillow into a more comfortable cradle for his head and allowed his thoughts to roam once more. He switched from rehashing the earlier scene with Daniel to recalling a trying incident with Brian a couple of weekends before.
His younger brother had argued passionately and unsuccessfully for a later Saturday night curfew. Despite Adam's unrelenting no, Brian attempted to sway him with pleas for a simple half hour extension or better yet, for a whole hour.
Adam remained firm.
Finally acknowledging that Adam had no intention of altering the curfew and fueled by teenaged angst, Brian threw up his hands dramatically and promised, "Once I become an adult everything's going to be different. Just wait 'til I turn eighteen and I'm going to leave and not allow a single, solitary rule in my life!"
When Adam failed to accept the bait and respond the way Brian had wanted, Brian added with a scowl, "And when I have kids I'm going to make sure I don't restrain them or sabotage them or stifle their natural independence!"
For the hundredth time since he had donned the cloak of responsibility for his brothers, Adam empathized with the discipline issues that his parents had endured from them all lo those many, many years.
Yes, he did.
Adam glanced at the clock on his dresser. A new day quickly approached and he needed all the emotional and physical strength sleep could award him. Despite the aching muscles the cool cotton of the bed linen felt good against his skin.
The day before he had caught Crane with a bundle gathered from the linen closet. When questioned the eleven year old admitted he planned to make a bed on the porch for a pregnant cat he had found wandering the edge of the property. From the time he could toddle Crane had gravitated toward a fascination with animals of every breed. He could spend hours at a time in their company and had taught himself how to perform some simple veterinary procedures.
Adam nixed the use of their own bedding for the labor and delivery, but pointed out a cedar chest in the barn contained discarded towels and blankets the child could appropriate instead. Crane relinquished the family linens at once and an hour later called Adam to admire the bed he had designed for the stray kitty.
Adam shifted in the bed and the move ushered another round of muscle protests. Now even the quilt seemed bent on increasing his physical misery. He waited for the worst of the reaction to pass and decided to focus upon nothing but breathing calmly, inhaling and exhaling in slow, rhythmic cycles. The concentration finally paid off for him and just as his mind relaxed the painkillers began to flood his system.
Adam sighed with delicious relief and fell asleep even before he could finish saying his nightly prayers.
Duende.
That summed up Ford McFadden's most telling trait. The man had an affinity for- no, the duende to attract others to him, to his beliefs, and to his religious order. His powerful magnetic ability just drew converts of every demographic right to the compound he and his followers had established in Oregon.
Ford had parlayed his love of the spotlight into a multi-million dollar evangelical empire.
Adam scanned the road in front of the ranch house with a bit of worry. Ford had phoned him the week before and invited himself home to the ranch for a couple of days to celebrate Adam's fiftieth birthday. Torn between wanting to see his baby brother and well aware that Ford's almost celebrity status as a Protestant Minister made it difficult for him to travel anywhere unnoticed, Adam had debated insisting Ford visit at another time.
Ford sensed the rejection and interrupted Adam's protests, "No, stop right there, Big Brother. I plan to visit for your birthday and the least you can do is to act like you'd welcome a visit from me."
Pleased with the younger man's motive, Adam murmured his agreement.
Adam tilted his head to gain a clearer vantage point of the familiar driveway and road. As far as he could see, no vehicle zoomed in the direction of the ranch.
Adam ran his fingers through what was left of his salt and pepper hair and shuffled back into the house. He had broken a hip the year before and the injury still impacted his mobility.
In his heart of hearts he recognized he would never regain full function.
Because of the impairment the stairs to the second floor proved impossible to navigate. Thus, Adam had transformed the living room into his bedroom and that eased his navigation considerably. In fact, when the time came that he could use the stairs again he decided commandeering the living room permanently as a bedroom suited him better.
What Brian would say about the bed positioned by the sofa when he arrived Adam could only guess. Brian thrived upon order and routine and the clutter of the living room would be met with his disapproval.
Adam's gaze focused upon a framed photo of Brian on the entertainment center, a formal portrait taken the year before. Despite the introduction to middle age Brian's blue eyes remained vibrant and sparkling, and the hint of a smile on his lips reflected his satisfaction with his career. Already a twenty year veteran of the United States Marines, this younger brother planned to devote another ten years to the Service.
He had excelled in his field and numerous commendations had led to his current rank of Colonel.
With his wife, son, and daughter, Brian now lived in Washington, D.C. and commuted to the Pentagon for his job. He would travel back to California for Adam's momentous birthday alone, however, as his wife couldn't miss work and Brian would not allow his children to miss school.
Adam crossed into the kitchen and powered on the coffee pot. The appliance gurgled loudly as the water began to heat and Adam set a clean cup beside it and studied the carafe.
Which brother had replaced the aluminum coffee pot so long a fixture on the stove with this modern model?
Adam rubbed his temples and concentrated.
Daniel! Daniel had presented Adam with the machine a couple of Christmases before, handing it silently to his brother when Adam made one of his monthly visits to Daniel's place.
A total recluse by the age of twenty five, psychiatrists had diagnosed Daniel as an agoraphobic but stressed Daniel's terror of leaving the house could be managed with therapy and medication. Unfortunately, Daniel rarely followed the treatment plan and no improvement transpired. He lived now on the edge of the property in a small cabin once inhabited by the family's farmhand, Uri. He eked out a living working as an accountant and managed his work and home lives via his personal computer.
Daniel's hermit like existence really bothered their baby brother Guthrie, who spent his days flying through life on the wings of one grand scheme or another. He simply could not comprehend a day without human contact, much less weeks of no social interaction at all.
Adam smiled as he thought of Guthrie. What a happy go lucky charmer! To date Guthrie had drifted from one blue collar job to another, or rather to fifteen or sixteen jobs, and though now in his thirties, the young man felt no compunction to forge a real career.
The same approach powered his romantic life but a nonchalant Guthrie steadfastly refused the ties of marriage or any suggestion of commitment.
Consequently, to date, the youngest McFadden had fathered seven daughters from four different partners.
Only his scramble to stay on top of child support kept Guthrie McFadden employed at all.
Still, despite his irresponsible outlook, everyone loved Guthrie. He possessed such a Don Quixote approach that he developed a wide circle of friends and buddies with whom he enjoyed extra-curricular activities.
The tone of the coffee pot segued to a slurping end and Adam poured a steaming cup for himself.
Another peep through the kitchen window alerted him to an approaching car.
Adam squinted to focus.
The vehicle was a rental. That meant the passengers would most certainly be Evan and his wife, both star ballet dancers with the New York City Ballet. Evan had assured him that a quick trip home to wish his brother a personal happy birthday would not jeopardize Evan's chances of securing the role of Trepak in the upcoming winter's production of The Nutcracker.
Evan had worked hard to secure a place with the renowned troupe and the icing on the cake materialized when he encountered another talented dancer and fell in love with her. Now he and Lisette worked and lived together in the Big Apple.
The phone rang twice and abruptly stopped. Adam shook his head in resignation. This was Crane's signal to him that he was within fifteen minutes of the ranch; thus, he expected Adam to lock the dogs in the barn prior to his arrival. Crane's intolerance towards animals had snowballed over the years and if Adam wanted his younger brother to visit, he had to keep the pets penned and out of sight when Crane appeared.
Adam stood on tiptoe and tilted his head so that he could gain a view of the barn door. He had locked the dogs inside an hour earlier.
The door remained shut.
It annoyed him that Crane had issued the caveat to him but what could he do? Crane hated animals and always had.
The slam of wood against wood startled him and he hurried to the front door to extend a greeting.
"Uh oh, sorry," Brian spoke guiltily, repositioning the bureau drawer and then sliding it closed. "I didn't mean to wake you, Adam, but I'm out of cologne and I figured you wouldn't mind." He grinned and raised his eyebrows. "Drawer got stuck on me."
Adam wiped his mouth and glanced at the window. Light filtered through the curtains and the sun confused him.
He had overslept! What time was it?
Brian caught the panicked assessment and prodded soothingly. "Hey, remember you took a knock yesterday so you probably didn't sleep 'til late. Don't worry about oversleeping. The kids are up, dressed, and eating breakfast. Go back to sleep a bit and see if you can dream again."
He walked to the door and motioned toward the stairs. "I've got this. You rest."
Adam pulled himself to a sitting position. It took him a moment to realize that his pain from the day before had subsided. What a relief!
He regarded his brother with a wry smile. "Thank you, but no. I don't need any more sleeping or dreaming. Last night, I…" he gathered his thoughts and grinned self-consciously. "I do believe I'm good. I experienced the night of a thousand dreams last night."