A Place to Heal

III

Circle of Life

by Annejackdanny

While this story was written for the LD Summer Challenge (grow something in your backyard), it was also for darcy as a get-well cheer-up!

Thanks to Hazel for the hand-holding and whip-cracking

And to Char for introducing me to the worlds and tales o Tolkien

The grass in front of the small house was brittle and smelled dry. When she mouthed at the tufts her teeth crunched with sand. She snuffled and pawed the ground; setting free little dust clouds without finding green blades or roots. She turned her head, ears twitching towards the water. The smell coming from there, usually tangy and promising refreshment, was different. She did not want to drink from the water anymore. The shore had become swampy and the waterline had moved further away.

There was no sound, not even crickets. The air stood still, the house lay silent. But the bucket was out for her by the porch in the shade, filled with cool fresh water, and she drank her fill. Then she moved to the back, to the patch of grass the man had fenced for her. The pasture was yellow; burnt by the sun as it was in the front. However, there was another bucket and she smelled apples and carrots. She nosed the food, chose an apple and started to eat. But something kept distracting her; time and again she raised her head, ears twitching, eyes searching, nostrils flared.

There was no danger. This was her home and she did not know what unsettled her. The man and his young were gone in that loud bad smelling thing the man called 'truck'. To bring home food the two legged ate. And maybe grain for her.

Yet, something caused her distress. Unease.

The air didn't smell right. It smelled sharp, a little bit like soiled plants or spores, a little bit like too much sun, as though there was dust in the air. She knew the smell; it wasn't unfamiliar. But it meant a change of elements. There would be rain, finally, which was good. But before the rain there would be darkness and storms rattling the trees and the house, growling and lightning. And she sensed it coming closer even though the sky was still clear. But the heat was dense and thick, like haze over the land.

She flared her nostrils again.

It was coming.

And she knew she had to leave and find shelter elsewhere. She had felt the need to leave for some time, but had not understood the reason. She liked being here. Here was food and water and two legged who would not hurt or restrain her. But the upcoming elements urged her to leave now. To find a safe place with better grass and herbs to feed on, more shade and water coming from a spring. Away from the winds and growls and lightning.

Yet, she still hesitated, for this was her home and she felt safe here. The bad elements would come and go as they always had and she would wait and welcome the rain just like the man and his young. They were of one herd; a strange herd because they were so different in being, but still a herd. Would she not have to stay and help the man to protect the young? Wasn't the young her foal as well? Not born by her, but a small one, still...

Leaving the herd was not what she wanted. Not what she must do. But something was calling her.

Finally she left the food bucket and started walking the path leading into the dense forest, following the strange call to go away.

July

"Hey! now! Come hoy now! Wither do you wander? Up, down, near or far, here, there or yonder? Sharp-ears, Wise-nose, Swish-tail and Bumpkin, White-socks my little lad, and old Fatty Lumpkin!" LotR "The Fellowship" - Tom Bombadil calling for the ponies

I

Flicking the sweat off his forehead with one hand, Jack O'Neill grabbed his tool box with the other and climbed down the ladder leaning against the wooden wall of the shed. He had finally managed to repair the roof and the door that had been ripped off its hinges. Now all the havoc the last tornado had wreaked was taken care off. They had needed the long period of rain badly; the pond had started to smell and all the plants and grass around the cabin had been yellowish and sere. There had been forest fires south of the little backwater community they called the 'town' around here. The tornado had first made it worse and then the rain had helped putting it out. They had gotten lucky; the tornado had dragged the fire away from the 'town' and their little cabin north of it and the rain had started just soon enough to prevent greater parts of the woods from catching fire.

Now, after two weeks of non-stop pouring rain and a couple days of drizzle the pond had stopped smelling like rotten eggs and the grass was getting back its natural green color. The small creeks were carrying masses of water, overflowing and flooding the shores. The earth was soaking up the welcoming water like a dry sponge.

The sun was back out. Humidity was high, making everything feel sticky and sweaty. That would hopefully get better in a couple of days. Northern Minnesota usually wasn't as humid as its southern part, but it had been up to 100 F all through June and July. Instead of bringing a drop in temperature, the heavy rains had turned the air into a damn steam bath.

Jack put the tool box down and carried the ladder back into the shed, then got the box and stored it away on one of the shelves. When he stepped out into the sunny afternoon again, he spotted a lone figure coming out of the woods, wearing cutoff jeans and a blue t-shirt. Daniel had tamed his unruly blond mop of hair with a leather band; tied together at the back of his head. For some reason he still wanted to wear it long and Jack had given up on trying to force a 'proper' hair cut on the kid a long time ago.

Some things were just not worth fighting over. They didn't have to worry about school rules since Daniel was home schooled via an online program. And Harry, the guy who owned the 'town's' only store where Daniel jobbed two days a week, didn't mind as long as the kid showed up to work clean and with the hair tied back. The only thing Jack insisted on was cutting it back to a little over shoulder length every six months or so. That boy's hair grew like weed and if he didn't watch it he'd soon look like Legolas, the elf – sans the pointed ears.

Daniel of the Minnesota Woods – had a nice ring to it. After all, they were living in the woods and Daniel seemed to be a bit out of this world from time to time, listening to his own song and being in sync with the wilderness.

And Jack had probably read too much Lord of the Rings lately. But, hey, the boy liked it and they still did that reading thing at nights or during rainy days. Daniel had chosen the Tolkien books from the mobile library that came to town once a month and while Jack had moaned and groaned at first – because those books were huge and written in a kinda weird style – they had spent many hours reading to each other all through the rainy weeks.

Daniel had reached the horse's makeshift pasture now, stopped walking and gazed across the grass to the little shelter Jack had built for her last summer – it used to be his shed. Now he had a new shed by the house. The horse never really took advantage of it. Even when the weather was lousy she'd rather retreat into the forest and seek shelter where the trees were dense enough not to let through too much rain or heat. She was an odd gal, that one. Maybe that's why she fitted in so nicely with them.

Stretching his back and wincing as several muscles and joints popped back into place, Jack strolled over to the kid. Daniel turned worried eyes on him and shook his head. In the suntanned young face those eyes had the color of the summer sky; an intense dazzling blue. "I looked everywhere. The meadow with the flowers, the creek, the brush with the wild blackberries. She's gone."

Jack put a hand on Daniel's shoulder and squeezed gently. "She'll be back."

"Four weeks," Daniel said, catching his bottom lip between his teeth.

"It's been awfully hot. Maybe she went deeper into the woods where it's cooler."

"The storm was bad," Daniel pointed out.

"We had storms before. She'll be okay."

"It was worse."

Jack couldn't exactly deny that. This one had been pretty bad. And there had been the fire. They hadn't seen it, but the smell had been everywhere and maybe she had run. But she'd be back. She always was.

"The fire scared her away," Daniel verbalized Jack's thoughts.

"Yeah, maybe. But not for good." He patted Daniel's back. "Stop worrying, buddy." Of course telling Daniel to stop worrying when he was already worrying was a lost cause. Jack needed a different strategy here. "Remember last fall when she was gone for almost four weeks? You worried your head off and one day she was back just like that."

Daniel frowned. "She was hurt."

"Yeah, okay, but not bad."

She had come home with a slightly swollen leg, but nothing to worry about. Cool compresses and some ointment to rub into the tender area for a week had taken care of it. Running around free in the woods like she did, she was bound to hurt herself from time to time. Jack thought she got lucky on the whole. He and Daniel were used to treating small cuts, removing stones from her hooves or untangling her mane and tail and remove burrs. But that was about it. She was used to living in the woods even though she stayed close to the house more often than not these days.

Used to anyway.

"Tell you what? You've been searching for her all morning. Let's have some ice cream and take a break. We can look in the other direction later this afternoon. Maybe she went to the other side of the pond for a change."

Daniel looked doubtful. "There's just scrub with thorns and the trees are so dense. There are no paths and no meadows."

"I know. But maybe she felt adventurous. If she walks in that direction long enough, finding her way through the scrub, she might have found the old logging road. It's not used anymore, but it should still be walkable at least. It leads to Kinney."

"Kinney?" That spark of interest was just what Jack had been hoping for.

"It's a ghost town. People say it's haunted," he said in a stage whisper.

"A ghost town?" The spark of interest grew; Jack could see it in the widening of the blue orbs looking back at him.

"Oh, yeah. Used to be an iron mining town back in the 1860's or something. What's left of it is just a couple of buildings, a cemetery and some old mining shafts which were closed long ago."

"Have you been there?" Daniel asked.

"Yep, when I was a kid."

Jack had spent all his childhood summers out here. First on his other grandparent's horse ranch just a couple miles away. Later, when grandpa Henry had passed and granny sold the ranch and had gone to live with Jack's aunt in Minneapolis, he'd come here to spent his summers with his father's dad. Jack had missed the horses and his mom's parents, but the woods around the cabin had its own magical places for a boy. And 'deideo' O'Neill had taken him all those places. So, yeah, these parts of the woods had been Jack's stomping ground until he had felt too old to spend his time out in the woods with an old quirky Irish guy who didn't even have running water and electricity.

Now that Jack was going to be an old quirky guy himself – with running water and electricity though – he wished he hadn't stopped visiting the old man. Oh, he'd been out here all right. For weekends on and off through his academy years and later with Sara. But it had never been like in those endless summers when he'd helped with the horses on the ranch or later when he'd gone fishing and hiking around the woods with daideo O'Neill; just the way Jack and Daniel were doing now. Jack had loved both his grandparents and while he knew kids moved on and had to get out to tackle life and try new things, he wished he'd spent more time with his daideo later on.

"What did you do there? Played with your friends?" Daniel asked, curious.

"My daideo took me there and we explored the empty houses and the cemetery. There's a hiking trail passing by Kinney, but it takes a while to get there."

"Daideo," Daniel said thoughtfully. He pronounced it dadjó; the right way. Jack had to smile. Daniel hadn't retained his full knowledge of all the languages he used to speak. He recalled a little Egyptian, bits and pieces of Abydonian thrown in the mix, but the vast linguistic knowledge he used to have was – if not gone – buried deeply in his subconscious mind. Yet, Daniel still had the knack of picking up a language pattern quickly. He'd taken French and Greek classes and was way ahead of his study schedule.

"It's the Irish word for grandpa," Jack said. "He was my father's dad. He and my granny used to live here as long as I can remember. When they were gone, I got the cabin. It moves on from fathers to sons. Has for generations."

"Oh," Daniel said softly. "You would have given it to Charlie then."

"Yeah. If he'd have wanted it."

Daniel was shocked. "But he must have wanted it, Jack! Who wouldn't want it? It's the best place ever."

Jack grinned. "That's good. Because it's going to be yours now one day."

Daniel looked at him, the expression on his face hard to decipher. Then he said, "But not for a very long time. Not until I'm at least as old as you are now. You're not... "

Jack shook his head. "No. Not for a very long time, buddy. Not if I can help it."

"I know you can't promise me. Just try to... for as long as you can."

One of this little Daniel's deepest fears was being left behind. Or finding out his reality, which had just stabilized around him again two summers ago, was crumbling and falling apart again. "For as long as I can," Jack said quietly. "I'm not going anywhere."

Daniel let out a small huff, then grinned a bit sheepishly. "Can we have ice cream now?"

"Yeahsureyabetcha."

They went over to the house where, while it wasn't much cooler, at least they were out of the sun. Daniel went inside to retrieve the Ben and Jerry's quarts from the deep freezer and then they sat on the bench on the front porch, enjoying spoonfuls of cold creamy Cherry Garcia and Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough.

The cat showed up from somewhere and started brushing against Daniel's legs, uttering tiny noises; a mix of purring and meowing. Daniel dipped a semi clean finger into his ice cream and let the cat lick it off.

"Don't stick that finger in there again," Jack groused.

"Okay," Daniel said – and used the next finger to spoon up some more ice cream for the cat. After all he had ten of those.

Jack averted his eyes, then had to look again despite himself, as Daniel stuck another finger into his Ben and Jerry's container. Nope, he couldn't stand this. "For cryin' out loud, get her a bowl."

With a grin Daniel zipped back inside and returned a moment later. He spooned up a little amount of ice cream and dropped it in the cat's food bowl. Cat's meowing turned into a crescendo and then she was on it, devouring the treat.

The cat wasn't supposed to eat human food and Daniel knew it. The cat, of course, ate about anything you offered her that tasted like meat or somehow resembled milk. Daniel said cats sometimes needed treats just like people and horses. Jack spent good dollars on healthy cat food with added vitamins – because Daniel had lectured him about the cat catching worms and other parasites from eating raw mice. Jack did not fancy the idea of cooking or frying the mice cat kept bringing home. But he didn't want to be responsible for the cat getting sick either. So the cat got gourmet food and regular worm treatments just to be on the safe side – and still she hunted mice. Only instead of eating them she placed them neatly by the front door now. Daniel had informed Jack the cat was showing gratitude and love by wanting to give them something back.

The cat's tiny pink tongue came out to lick her bowl clean while she craned her neck and twisted her gray-brown striped head to get to every little drop of ice cream. Jack had to admit it was endearing to watch.

Daniel had gone back to eating his Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough with the spoon. Jack scraped the last bits of his Cherry Garcia from the bottom of his jar.

"Jack?" The way Daniel said his name made Jack pause and look up. He had learned to listen to the fine nuances in Daniel's voice. There was something tentative there, almost shy.

"What's up?" Jack asked, not giving away he had picked up on something.

"Do you think I should go to that school?"

Oh, here we go... "Are you still thinking about this? It's okay, Daniel. You don't have to go."

"Doctor Lam thinks I should," Daniel said.

"And you said you're not ready," Jack replied.

"Maybe I'm just a coward," Daniel murmured, placing his empty Ben and Jerry's jar on the ground where it was conquered by the cat immediately.

Jack felt his jaw twitch in suppressed annoyance. Screw Lam and her 'pep talks'. He put his own ice cream container down and touched Daniel's arm lightly. "Look at me," he said and, when Daniel reluctantly made eye contact, continued. "You are not a coward. And whatever you think, that's not what Doctor Lam indicated in any way. She means well. She wants you to get used to the thought that there's a life outside these woods. That you can go out there and be part of that life. But only when you're ready, not because you think that's what you should do. Okay?"

"When I'm ready," Daniel repeated. Then he blinked, his eyes clouding with anxiety and worry. "Jack, what if I'm never going to be ready?"

Jack had to smile at that. "Believe me, kiddo, you'll be ready. And when you are you'll know it."

"How?"

"You just will. You do things at your pace and it'll work out. Trust me."

Daniel gave him a crooked smile. "I can do that."

Jack hoped Daniel would start to spread his wings again someday; go to school, find friends, embrace life with all its ups and downs. Daniel still had that natural curious streak in him, but he'd been burned one time too many and his usual attitude about jumping into new and unknown situations head first had taken a hit. But Jack knew it was in there somewhere and in time, when all the wounds had healed over, Daniel would go out there and find new challenges. But as long as life at the cabin was enough to keep him happy Jack wasn't going to question it.

No matter what well meaning doctors thought about it. All that talk about Daniel having to meet other kids and be re-socialized into the 'real world' whether he wanted it or not, was just a load of crap. Daniel was different. He needed one thing most of all – time. Hey, they were making progress here, okay? Daniel worked at Harry's twice a week. Not so much for the money, but to get in touch with people. He was still shy around strangers and he still wasn't back to his formerly brilliant conversation skills. But he was interacting and talking to people. They had gone places, too. Shopping malls made the kid uncomfortable and loud busy cities stressed him, but he could do it now. They'd been to Colorado several times to see Lam, and Daniel had stopped being jumpy and skittish when he was at the mountain. He didn't want to go anywhere near the gate, but he liked seeing Carter and Teal'c and he didn't mind Lam prodding and poking him. If that wasn't progress, then Jack didn't know what was.

They had talked about the possibility of going to school. Did Daniel feel like he was missing anything? Did he want to go to a real school? Daniel had looked at him with a deer-in-the-headlights expression and asked if they had to move away. Jack had said no. He'd drive Daniel out to 'town' to catch the school bus and pick him up there every day. The next school was at Hermantown, an hour's drive there and back. Jack had powered up the laptop and shown Daniel the school's website. Not a bad place, all things considered. High educational standards, art program and language classes. Daniel had looked at the website, dutifully read the resume and compared it to his online classes. Then he had looked at Jack and asked, "Do I have to go there?" And Jack had asked, "Do you want to?" And Daniel had shaken his head and hugged himself. And then he had said, "Maybe someday."

And that was all Jack needed to know.

When Daniel was ready to tackle the next big step he would.

Pushing the thought of Carolyn Lam and her nagging away, Jack said, "You want to check out the ghost town?"

"Can we look for her on our way?"

Jack sighed. It meant taking the thorny path through the scrub behind the pond. Looking at Daniel's grubby bare feet he said, "You need to wear shoes."

"Okay."

"And a long sleeved shirt and pants. Because of the thorns. And there might be poison Ivy."

Daniel nodded somewhat impatient. "I know, Jack."

Jack remembered how Daniel had refused to change clothes the first couple of weeks he'd lived here. He had clung to a pair of boxers and an oversized shirt that belonged to Jack like his life had depended on it. And maybe for Daniel, at that time, it had.

That, too, had changed. But the kid still liked running around bare foot and with as few clothes as possible during the summer if he could get away with it. So that the little monkey was willing to put on boots long shirts even in this heat spoke volumes on how worried he really was about the absence of his horse friend.