Worth To Be Remembered
by Anna Shepeleva
I'm a fan of Joe Lando and Higher Ground from Russia
Joe gave life to two of great characters- Byron Sully from Doctor Quinn and Peter Scarbrow from Higher Ground.
So, here is an attempt to connect them two in one crossover story.
This night he saw his Grandma in his dream. Peter Scarbrow was surprised – he didn't think about her for a long time. When Peter was a kid, he loved his Grandma very much, although she lived so far away, in Oklahoma. Grandma lived a long life, more than a hundred years, the great age, but she told him once, this was not an age for Indians, especially before the whites came. She knew a lot about Indians – more than 50 years she lived in Indian reservation, teaching Indian children in local school. As she told, her husband - a doctor - was a Native American as well. Peter never saw him, because he died long before Peter's birth. Peter's mother was the last of four children, she was born, when Grandma was more than 45, and she didn't look as half-Indian, just her eyes were dark brown. Peter's eyes were deep blue,and Grandma told him, he looks more like her father, who was a kind of trapper, or something like this. .. Few times mother took him to Grandma (he was six or seven there). Peter remembered her small house, the spotted horse in a corral (Grandma sometimes rode the horse, in spite of her daughter protests), the Indian woman, Rachel, who was Grandma's companion…Two old women lived together for a long time, and their friendship was very strong. But, as Rachel died , Peter's mother decided that this is dangerous for such an old woman to live there alone, and insisted to take Grandma to New York. This was a big mistake. Grandma couldn't get on with Peter's father. She was too independent and straight, and often criticized him.
"You must pay more attention to your kids, Don Scarbrow" – she often told him, - "if you don't want any unpleasant surprises from them in future. And that would be not just their fault."
"I have a business, can't you understand?" he answered irritably
"Don't you think your business is more important than your own children?" she said. "They must stop fighting for every bit of your love"
"Such a quarrelsome old woman," he muttered, hoping she doesn't hear. But Grandma's ear was perfect.
" I don't care," she always answered. "Let him call me quarrelsome, but I'll say this again and again – all the kids need love and care from their fathers."
Finally, Grandma moved from them to the old people's shelter. That was her will, but Peter seemed, his mother sighed with relief… He visited her there few times, but not so often…He was very busy at school, trying to be the A-pupil…trying to induce his father to be proud of him. Grandma passed away when 12-years-old Peter was in summer camp. He was not at her funeral, because mother didn't want to upset him until he came back from the camp…Peter missed her, but the time finally healed this wound. Grandma was right…she was a kind of "prophet" . That was him, Peter Scarbrow, who gave his father "the unpleasant surprise", as he gave up in a battle for a bit of father's love…
In his dream, Peter was a little boy again, the little boy, who visited his Grandma in Oklahoma, and was looking over the old family album… Grandma was going to write a book about her father, who created the Rocky Mountain National park (she said that Peter took his interest to nature from him). But after her death her "archive" disappeared, nobody was interested in those dusty bundles of old papers.
The loud knock sound disturbed his sleep, and he awoke with a start. Somebody knocked to the door. That was Sophie. She looked irritated or even angry.
" Here is a guest for you, " she said, pointing at the dark-haired woman, who stood behind her.
" Welcome to Horizon, " Peter embarrassingly tried to wrap up his dressing gown., "you're a parent of some kid? "
The woman gave him a derisive look:
" Don't be so shy, you're looking quite good, really… " (Sophie glanced at her furiously) "No, I'm not a parent…Melanie Jackson, the journalist" she stretched her hand.
"Another scribbler" Sophie muttered barely audible (Peter silently thought the same).
" Are you going to write something about how dangerous those schools are?" Sophie asked sarcastically. "There was some reporter, who tried to pose as one of the troubled kids…collected horror stories…but I must warn you, Ms. Jackson – we don't need all this buffoonery again… "
Melanie smiled:
" No, at first, I have nothing to hide, I am a reporter…you can call me just "Mel." Secondly, my stories are more romantic …besides that, I like this landscape and wish to have a trip through these woods… "
"Okay, we'll plan the route for you…" Peter reluctantly promised, "Now, excuse me, ladies, I need to dress up… "
The least what Peter wished was another reporter. He was definitely drained off with the recent problems.The kid, who was brought here couple days ago, needed medical treatment instead of putting into Mt.Horizon. Many kids used drugs before coming here, but this guy was the complete drug addict , who couldn't handle several hours without another dose. His parents didn't tell Peter any word about it. They just brought him here and left. So, that was only Peter, who watched the fit of abstinent syndrome an hour later…Peter felt on his own back what the heroine addiction is, and knew very clear: he 's unable to do anything here….This was "not professional", but his heart still ached with every kid he couldn't help enough. Finally, Freddy Powell ended up in a hospital, and his parents instead of visiting their son there, rushed to Horizon to row.
" We were told here's the place for healing the drug addicts!" they yelled, "How did you allow this?! "
"How did YOU allow this?" Peter thought, "Where've you been while your son ruined himself for several months? Why didn't you worry about him, when we still were able to help?!"
Peter's group, "Cliffhangers", didn't allow him to relax as well – every now and then they presented him some "surprises" Even Sophie couldn't comfort him – he still couldn't understand what's wrong with her. She turned down all his courtship, as if she was afraid of something… Most of all Peter wished to spend a couple days in the woods by himself, to regain a balance in his body and soul…but this reporter came to spy around and follow him everywhere…then she'll write another rubbish for some "yellow" magazine….
" Such a loathsome person!" Sophie appeared at the door, " I barely have finished with her. "
" Where is she? "
Seems, she went to girl's dorm…Did you notice, how she undressed you with her glance?"
"Are you jealous?" Peter grinned .
"Sure, I'm not" she outraged, " just don't like all these reporters, spying around, and then writing something filthy."
Peter nodded:
" I don't like them as well…but we're already managed with one of them, remember? "
He tried to embrace her . She stepped aside. As usually.
" What do you think about your counselor?" Melanie asked. She came to girls' dorm to talk with them.
" Which one?" Kat asked, "there are a number of counselors here. "
Melanie grinned:
" The handsome one…Mr. Scarbrow, of course… "
" Peter? Well… we like him, he understands us… "
Melanie was definitely disappointed:
"That's good, but I meant different…did you ever dream about him… not as about your teacher? "
" He's too old for me… " Shelby chuckled
"Hope, the rest of you have different opinion," Melanie grinned, "come on, we all are just human beings, we all are women here,so be open…didn't you ever imagine how he rescues you from some danger, and you're somewhere in the woods, just you and him… "
" Would you sit somewhere else?" she had heard Daisy's voice from the door, "this is my bed."
"Sure," Melanie shrugged, - she stood up and moved to the empty bed. "Still can't believe, that no-one of you, girls, is sweet on him…well, I'll ask you another question – did you ever notice him…hmm…looking at one of you a little…different…?"
"What do you mean?" Juliette asked, rolling her eyes
"You're the pretty girls…he's a man…a handsome young man… "
"Are you writing for one of those dirty magazines for loonies?" Daisy interrupted her.
"You're just wasting your time here. Peter never tried to seduce any of us…and nobody of us tried to seduce him, that's all… "
"Perhaps, you 're too young, girls, and don't know yet…" Melanie condescensionly grinned.
"I know more than you even can imagine," Shelby said, "but anyway, nobody here is interested in your sexual fantasies. That's safe place, you know? "
"Okay, Shelby," Melanie leaned to her ear, -"do me a favor…you just told me "I know". Would you please tell me more… confidentially, of course…I swear not to post your name… "
Shelby jumped up and rushed from the dorm.
"What do you want here?" Kat asked, "you have no right to ask here your stupid questions!"
"You'd better leave, or I'll hurl something at you," Daisy said gloomy.
The look of her face showed that she's not kidding, and the reporter immediately departed.
"Where are you going?" Peter stopped Melanie . She dragged a large knapsack.
"For a walk," she answered .
"We 've cancelled our trip today.There was a storm warning by radio.Nobody will leave school. "
"The thunderstorm?" she looked at the sky. "Are you, "the mountain man", afraid of a thunderstorm?"
Peter didn't answer. This woman irritated him more and more, and he thought how he could get rid of her more politely.
"I've thought you like adventures... "
"I like when the people I 'm responsible for, are safe," he almost lost his patience, - NOBODY will leave school in such a weather. So, take off your knapsack and go back… "
"I'm not one of your pupils, you remember?" Melanie protested. "I don't have to follow the rules for your kids."
"You're the guest here, so you must follow the rules for the guests. Believe me, we have enough problems, so nobody wants to make a searching party because of your stubbornness." Melanie's eyes lit up, but Peter was so angry, that he didn't notice her reaction.
'Do you usually take part in these searching parties? "
"Yes." he turned away.
"Okay" she finally said, "But, truly said, I don't like to follow the rules. "
"Then you came the wrong door, Ms,Jackson." Peter 's patience was over.
"Never thought such a good looking man could be so boring" she muttered. "Okay, okay, Mr. Scarbrow, I'm coming back…"
Making his way back to his office, Peter noticed two girls sitting on the bench. Shelby was crying, and Daisy tried to comfort her.
Peter approached:
"Hi, what's wrong? "
"Peter, why you've brought this woman here?" Daisy gave him an angry look
"You mean, the reporter? I didn't. She just came … "
"She's crazy!" Daisy pointed at Shelby , who was still crying, "do you want to know what she asked us?"
"Another horror story? "
"No, she asked if we ever felt something …special to you…then , if YOU felt something…hmm, you understand..to one of the girls here… "
Peter's eyes rolled:
"What?! "
Daisy nodded
"You're not misheard…And then she asked Shelby to talk…about her life more, with more details…How do you like it? You'd better kick her off here! "
"Sure, I will, right now," Peter promised. "I'm sorry, girls, she told me she just wants to write some romantic story, about wild nature, etc…I 've never thought, she could be so.. "
"So crazy" Daisy finished. "Anyway, we don't want her to spy around anymore. "
"So am I" Pe6ter said. "I'm going to throw her off here immediately. "
Melanie was nowhere to be seen. Instead of her , there was a letter on the door of his cottage:
"I'm sorry, Mr.Scarbrow, but I've finally decided to go for a walk. I have no much time to look at this wilderness, and I'd like some adventures,on the contrary of you …Mel."
"Damn!" he whispered, crumpling the letter.
"What's happened?" he had heard Sophie's voice behind him.
"She left" Peter said, "wants some adventures. I hate the reporters! "
"Fine" - she grinned. "Let her soak there… "
Peter looked at the window. The wind was already gale-strength, and the trees bent under the gusts. He shook his head and sighed;
"That's too dangerous in the woods now. Didn't she tells you where she was going?"
Sophie shrugged:
"She asked me about this place, where the old bridge was… "
Peter frowned – he had very unpleasant memories about that bridge.
"… and about this cabin, you know…You can't go there alone, those two places are too far from each other…I'll go with you. "
"No, Soph," - he protested, "you'd better stay here. "
"Could you even imagine how I want to find her and say what I think about her before you'll stop me?! "
"Okay" Peter said reluctantly. "So, you'll go to the cabin, and I'll search for her near the bridge… "
"Perhaps, we'd better call Rog or … "
"No." Peter shook his head. "Nobody will drive here at this storm…Besides that, she couldn't go too far. "
"Take your walkie-talkie with you" Sophie asked him, "You'll call me if you find her…so will I… "
The storming wind doubled over the thick trees. Peter barely could see anything through the wall of the downpour.
"Mel! Mel, where are you!!!" he almost strained his voice, but nobody answered.
The river boiled up, and Peter thought, that Melanie, in spite of all her whimsical, will stay as far as possible from this roaring water…so, he must search deeper in the woods…
Suddenly, the walkie-talkie in his pocket squeaked.
"Peter.. get back..I've found her…" he had heard Sophie's voice.
"What? Soph, I barely hear you! "
"I've..found her! Get Back!" Sophie said louder.
"Okay, where you…" he began, but had heard the loud crash behind him. The old tree trunk lost its ground under another gust of the wind and broke .Before Peter could react, the tree knocked him off his feet. He sank on the ground, hitting his head with the top of the falling trunk. Then was blackness…
"Peter! Peter! Do you hear me? What's happened?!" Sophie yelled at the phone, but there was no any respond. She had heard the loud crush, then was silence.
Few minutes before she had found Melanie under the tree, not far from the cabin.
"Oh, I was so stupid! I've lost my way, and was wandering here for so many hours!"
Then she looked at Sophie with wonderment:
"But…where is Mr.Scarbrow?"
" Peter is searching for you at another place .I'll communicate with him by phone now, tell him, I've found you… "
Then connection broke…Walkie talkie was still deadly silent.
"Follow me" Sophie ordered. "I'll show you the way back to Horizon. "
Suddenly she stopped. Something was very strange…she wasn't aware at first, what's wrong, but finally understood…There could be a lot of Melanie's footprints, if she was wandering here for many hours in this deep mud. But there were just two chains of footprints – to the cabin and back to the place when Sophie had found her… -
"Ms.Jackson!" – she called her. The reporter turned her head.
"You didn't wandering here…you were in this cabin all the time, and came from there when you had heard my voice or saw the light of the torch. But you wished that would be Peter to find you…You did this purposely, Melanie!"
"Yes, I did!" Melanie passed to the offensive. "I 'm writing for one of women's magazines…for rich women…I've seen the picture of Peter…Mr.Scarbrow…in a newspaper, where was the article about your school…A man like him…so handsome, and attractive…would draw my readers' attention for sure… so, I was going to write a romantic story, how I was wandering out of the way deep in the woods, and this man , no…a kind of a Living God at the Zenith of his Manhood… rescued me…I know, that was a foolhardiness from me, to go there in such a weather, but sometimes the people of my profession must risk their lives."
"But you have no right to risk other's lives" Sophie interrupted her - seems, something wrong has happened with Peter…"
Melanie raised her eyebrows:
"He's a "mountain man" isn't he? Don't you think he could take care about himself?"
"You'd better shut up" Sophie said through her teeth.
Melanie looked at her suspiciously;
"You.. you love him….am I right? You're worrying so much…"
"Yes! Yes!" Sophie yelled. "Now shut your mouth even for a little while!"
"I'm sorry." Melanie said, but Sophie didn't respond…
Some man leaned at him…His face was the first Peter saw as he opened his eyes.
Peter touched his head and wiped the blood, oozing from the deep gush near his temple. The stranger gazed at him , there was concern in his blue eyes.
"I'll help you up, - he finally broke the silence, - we need get out of here now."
" I can't" Peter answered. His head ached and he couldn't move his left leg. "I broke my leg."
"You must," the man insisted, - this tree (he pointed somewhere above) is all rotten inside too. Another gust-and it will fall on you…I know it hurts, but we have no time…take my hand!"
Peter grabbed man's hand and , clenching his teeth struggled to rose on his good foot. He couldn't keep his balance as the stranger suddenly pushed him away . Next second the rotten tree crunched and fell down hitting the spot, where Peter'd head was few seconds before…
Peter couldn't thank his rescuer because he passed out from the pain.
As he woke, he found himself laying in a small cave on his sleeping bag. Peter turned his head to the entry of the cave. The rain and storming wind stopped, and the stranger, who saved his life, was sitting there near the small campfire, back to Peter. He could see just his long golden-brown hair with some gray locks in it, falling down on his broad shoulders, wrapped in a leather jacket. Suddenly he rose on his feet and approached Peter:
"How are you?" he asked.
"My head…hurts," Peter muttered, - and my left leg.
"Your leg is broken. I've made a splint for it."
"Thank you" Peter managed. His head hurt more as he was speaking.
He glanced around. The nearest cave he knew was at more than a half-mile distance from the place he was injured.
"You…dragged me from there all the way?" he asked.
The stranger shrugged:
"That was so dangerous to stay there in such a weather…Drink this, this will reduce the pain." He offered Peter a cup with some bitter liquid. Peter didn't ask what it is, but drank obediently and eased himself back on the sleeping bag. The pain was not so sharp now, but he was exhausted and wanted to sleep. He closed his eyes.
"Don't go to sleep," the stranger's voice turned him back to reality. "You hit your head, so you must stay awake, even for several hours…Open your eyes and talk to me."
"Okay" Peter muttered, struggling to keep his eyes open.
"Who is Sophie?" the man suddenly asked. "Is she searching for you now?"
"Perhaps" Peter answered, and immediately turned his head to his interlocutor in great wonderment "Where did you know about Sophie?"
"You spoke this name before losing consciousness. .."
"Sophie is a friend of mine..she's a counselor in Mt.Horizon school, just like me…"
"Seems, you have some…problems, no, some vagueness in your relationships?" the stranger asked.
Usually, Peter didn't like to talk about his private life. But he suddenly felt he could trust this man, as if he was the only one who was able to listen and understand Peter…
"Yes, you're right" he said. He didn't know why, but he told this stranger all his story, including those years, he was still ashamed even to think about …
"She pushes me away all the time, as if she's afraid…but I never could frighten her…"
His interlocutor listened him attentively, his blue eyes were sympathetic.
"Do you know how she lived these 3 years without you?" he asked.
"Just according to her words" Peter answered, "she was travelling across the Africa…Truly said, I don't know much, Sophie is very independent and reticent person….She came back to stay here, but…something is wrong, seems, I'll never break the wall she'd built between us."
"Once I felt the same" the man nodded, - more then once, as was courting my future wife. She raised in a different society and was afraid to "break the wall", as you just told. I needed three years before she stopped to be scared."
"But Sophie was different! " Peter exclaimed and winced as the pain flared in his head , caused by his own loud voice.
"She was different," he repeated, taking his breath, "she isn't afraid. We had wonderful time together, I was going to propose her, but once she just disappeared …"
"I think, she 's scared…just doesn't want you to notice this."
"Can't imagine Sophie is scared of something…she's strong."
"Not so strong, that you think…but she's trying to hide it."
"So…what can I do?" Peter asked helplessly. "You just told, your wife behaved the same."
"Just wait…Be patient. That what I did, as I was courting Michaela. And don't give up, she loves you."
"Why do you know?" Peter asked.
"I know," the man answered evasively. "Just trust me." He took off the small leather pouch from under his jacket and put it into Peter's palm. "Take this…You deserved to wear it, because you're following the right path."
"You know, I've lost my way once…more than once, I was deep down."
"I know" the man nodded, "but you are fighting with your demons and winning the battle…"
He stopped near the entry of the cave.
"I had heard some voices. Your Sophie will find you soon… and I need to go."
"Wait, please" Peter protested, "let me introduce you to her…I'm sorry, I didn't even ask your name…I'm Peter Scarbrow…"
"I know" the man said. "I'm Sully…No, she can't see me…nobody except you…"
He went out of the cave, but turned back for a second and said:
"Don't give up! "
Peter tried to sit up a little, he was going to ask, what this man meant, "nobody could see him". But as he raised his head, the world began spinning around, and he slipped down into a black hole again….
The next time when he opened his eyes, he was lying on the bed in a hospital. He glanced around and saw Sophie, who was sitting near his bed with the book in her hands.
"Soph" Peter called her. His voice was so weak that she didn't respond.
"Soph," he repeated, a little more louder and touched her hand She immediately put the book aside and bent on him:
"Oh.. you're awake! How are you?" there was a worrying look in her eyes, he had never seen before,…she definitely was worried about him.
"My head…hurts," Peter said. He touched his head and felt the bandage…
"I'll call a doctor…" Sophie rushed away.
After the doctor checked on him, Sophie sat near his bed again.
"I'm glad that you'll be fine soon," she said, smiling a bit. "I'll call to Horizon, kids are worrying too…"
She withdrew the cell phone:
"Hi, who is that? Kat? Kat, tell the others – Peter awoke…he's better, doctor said, he could be out of the hospital within ten days…What? They are here? The entire group? Tell Jeff, I'll be late in evening…What? Are you sure? But how…okay, thank you, I appreciate this…Sure, I'll stay here…Yes… Okay:"
She put the phone to Peter's ear and he had heard the discordant chorus of voices:
"Get well! We miss you! "
Peter smiled:
"Thank you…I'll be soon. "
"You scared us all," Sophie said, the tears glittering in her eyes. "You've been out about three days…The doctor said, you have a severe concussion."
"Yes…The tree..it fell and knocked me out…I hit my head… "
"That was great that you left those marks, we had found you soon… "
"What marks?" Peter opened his eyes wide, looking at her in wonderment .
"On the trees, from the place you were injured – there were remains of your walkie-talkie – to this cave…don't know how you guessed, in your condition…you even made a campfire near the cave… "
"Did you meet someone there?" Peter asked, some...stranger?"
"No..you were alone, and there were just your footprints on the ground."
"She ought not see me…nobody except you" Peter remembered…So strange, how could this man just disappear, not leaving any sign of his presence…Besides that, something familiar was in his name, Peter could swear, he had heard this unusual name before…
Sophie noticed the tension in his face, and looked at him worryingly:
"Are you alright…I mean, perhaps, I'll call the doctor?"
"No," he protested, "I'm alright …Did you find this crazy woman…the reporter?"
"Yes," Sophie said, "I've found her…Truly said, most of all I wished to kill her immediately, for putting you into such a danger… " Her eyes suddenly moistened, and she squeezed Peter's hand more tightly: "I was worried so much about you…I was afraid to lose you… "
This was so unusual for Sophie – Peter had never seen her crying before…
"Soph," he began, but she wiped her eyes and said firmly:
"Peter…I need to tell you something…are you up to listen? "
"Sure, I am… "
She took a deep breath:
"Well…I was angry at this woman, but I behaved not much better once…when I left you without saying a word… "
"Don't blame yourself," Peter said, "that was so long ago."
"Listen!" she insisted, "I was stupid…I was going to test my feeling…no, truly said, I mostly wanted to test YOUR feelings to me, to check, if you'll miss me. I was going to be back within two or three weeks… just visit few of my friends…One day I've stopped in a small motel…I didn't remember exactly where it was. I went to the bar, to buy some soda, and some man pestered me all the time I was there…He was drunk, and, as I pushed him away, told me, he'll find me anyway. I left and went to my room, locking the door. I was so self-assured, was sure, I'm able to defend myself in any case. " She stopped, gathering herself up: "I was wrong" she continued. "I've locked the door, but forgot about the window…He came through the window, and put a knife to my throat ..I fought, but this was like to beat the stone wall…There were just a few people there, and nobody had heard my screams…The motel owner found me in the morning…I was put into the hospital, but…I'll never be the complete woman anymore…"
She stopped again, fighting back tears. Peter reached up his hand and touched her wet cheek:
"Soph…you ought not to tell more, if this is so hard for you…No matter what's happened, this never could change what I feel to you…"
But Sophie shook her head:
"No, I need you to know everything…I'm barren, I'll never have a child of my own…Besides that, I'm still afraid of any man's touch, even yours…I know, that's stupid, but I need time to recover…You could think, I feel nothing to you, but that's wrong …I just don't know how much time I need…"
"Don't worry, - Peter wiped the tear from her cheek. – I want you to know I can wait as long as you need. Just be sure, I'll always be here for you…if you need someone to talk with you…or to hold you. "
She bent on him to kiss him lightly:
"You couldn't even imagine, how I appreciate this… "
She turned away, and when looked at Peter again, there was almost this Sophie he always knew, no any tears on her cheeks, but the look of her eyes was different anyway.
"I 'm sorry…seems, you're not up for such a long conversation" she looked at his face wrinkled with pain
"No, I'm fine," he weakly protested, "would you please bring me some water?"
"Sure" - she rushed from the room.
Peter closed his eyes. He was very perplexed by Sophie's behavior… he hoped, his rescuer was right about their relationships… Then he started to think about this strange man…He pictured him in his mind, sitting near the campfire, his long hair falling down on his shoulders…He dragged unconscious Peter on his shoulders more than a half of mile, there was a terrible wind and rain around – but his hair was DRY, such as his leather jacket…His disappearance…his words about "nobody could see me except you"…perhaps, there was just some kind of delirium, caused by his concussion… He tried to convince himself, that this was just a dream, and almost succeeded in this task.
Sophie returned with a glass of water and he gratefully drained it.
"Thank you, I'm much better now" he sighed with relief, closing his eyes Suddenly, he felt her hand, gently patting his cheek. He opened his eyes, gazing at her. Sophie looked embarassed:
"Oh, I'm sorry," she managed a smile, "just wanted to check that you're here…alive…"
"I'm here, don't worry" he whispered.
She smiled again, this time more naturally: "You look tired, get some sleep…" she said.
"Stay with me" Peter asked her, and , to his wonderment, she immediately agreed, sitting on the chair near his bed.
After a brief pause she added: "Oh, I've nearly forgotten…Here, you were squeezed this in your hand, we hardly unclenched it."
There was a small leather pouch in her hand. This thing was real, he could touch it, hold it… Peter didn't know what to think, his mind was unable to explain him, what's happened…But he was still too weak for further conversations, so before drifting off to sleep he just took the pouch and put it under his pillow. Once more he saw a dream about his Grandma, and himself as a little boy, looking at the old family album…As he woke up, he already knew where he had heard this strangers' name. That was Grandma's surname, Katherine Sully…Once she told little Peter that her father hated his given name "Byron" and everyone called him just Sully…
Soon after the cast on his leg was removed, Peter left for NY. His older brother still lived in the house where Peter was born.
"Hi, Peter," Marc's wife looked at him with some fear. "Marc is not at home now…He'll not be back until the weekend…"
"You ought not to be afraid of me, Ginny," Peter managed a smile, "you've seen me before eight years ago, and I've changed a lot since this time…"
"Yes, sure," Ginny said, but there still was a fear in her eyes…
Peter couldn't blame her. He imagined how he looked when he visited his brother last time: a sunken junky, old threadbare jeans and baggy dirty sweater, long unkempt hair , shaky hands –insufferable sight for the wife of flourishing businessman…Seems, Ginny looks at him like this even now.
"Perhaps, you could help me, Ginny…I'm searching for my Grandma's archive…There was a wooden box …I've remembered, Mother brought it home after Grandma was gone…hope it's still here."
Ginny sighed with relief…probably, she thought, he came to ask for money.
"Marc moved it into the garage…but there is nothing interesting, just some old papers. "
"Exactly. That's what I need…May I take them with me or I need to ask Marc before?"
"No, take them." Ginny was glad, that he's going to leave. "Here is the key… "
He closed his eyes and inhaled the smell of dust and motor oil..He remembered himself standing there, trying to talk with his father, as he prepared to leave for his office…Don Scarbrow nodded, as Peter talked, but Peter saw he didn't listen…
"Your kids ought not to fight for every bit of your love" – Grandma said to Scarbrow-Sr. Yes, they fought for his love and attention for many years…As Grandma told him how close she was with his father, 7-years-old Peter even cried stealthily, wishing his own father to be the same to him.
Peter shook his head and opened the box. The family album was on the top. As he turned the first page, he immediately recognized his mysterious rescuer – he was there on the picture, holding little Katie, Peter's Grandma. He looked much younger, but that was definitely he.
The next thing he had find was a bundle with Grandma's diaries, she small notebooks, some of them were very old, their pages brittled with time…Peter placed one, the newest of them,into his pocket. Then he carefully put the contain of the box into his bag.
All the way from NY Peter was reading the notebook…It was the last of Grandma's diaries…
"I've watched today the film about Rocky Mountain National Park…even now, so many years later, there are tears on my eyes, as I've heard "Byron Sully, one of the creators of this park…" I know, I'll join you soon, because I'm too old…but I miss you so much, Pa, all this time. I know what had happened in 1892 – there was an epidemic of malaria in an Indian Reservation, and the agent asked some doctor come and vaccinate those who had not this disease yet.…So, you and Ma came there, because you were always ready to help people…then Ma told me, you were shot point-blank defending a pregnant Indian woman from some drank soldier, who tried to abuse her… They buried you like an Indian, it was a sign of great respect; we agreed because this would be what you could wish. I know, you joined the Spirits. But you told once, not to me, but to Brian, before I was born, and he was just a little boy, grieving for his friend: "Cheyenne would say No Harm's joined his ancestors with the Great Spirit. But his spirit is still here with us,... I think he's with you, every time you think 'bout him" So, I believe, your spirit is somewhere around, because we remember you and think about you…I knew through all my long life, you're somewhere around to support me, to help, when I'm down…Now, I remained the only one, who knew you, but I'm glad to tell you, that one of my grandsons reminds me of you a lot. Sometimes I'm worrying about him, because he is too kind and sensitive for this cruel world, and he has not such a good father and friend at his side, as you were for me. But I hope, he's strong enough to bear it, like you were, and I bequeath all those papers, all the history of our family, to him."
Peter stopped. That was a last phrase on this page, but he had found some more sentences on the next one, and he was astonished finding his name there:
'Pete, I always knew that would be you who is reading this diary now, not Marc or one of your cousins. I don't know, how many years passed until you'll read this, perhaps, you're already grown-up, but I hope, you still remember me. I can't foresee, what kind of life you choose to live, but, anyway, I want you to know what my father once told me: " A lot of people are crazy about their money, their career, their high position, but it's not important. Much more important is to care for the people who need your care, and remember those who are worth to be remembered" He was not saint, but he always cared for people, he was the shoulder, everyone could lean on. You remind me of him, Pete, and I wish you to be the same. I was going to write a book about my father, Byron Sully, but this is more difficult, than I've thought. I'm afraid, I have no much time. There was an Indian ceremony of "Spirit Keeping",( perhaps, you ever read about this), and I came through it in 1892. Now I want YOU to be our Spirit Keeper. There are the Indian beads in this box. Take them as you already took the medicine pouch"
Peter was shocked. He couldn't believe his eyes – Grandma wrote this more than 25 years ago, when he was just about 12…How could she know? He believed in mysterious stories, as he was a kid. Grown-up Peter was much more practical, he still liked to read the books about Native American culture and Steven King's novels, but this was just a hobby, nothing more. He touched the medicine pouch under his shirt and, overcoming himself, returned to his reading:
"I know, you already have this gift, and that was the reason why you're searching for my papers. I bequeath them to you and wish you to be so kind, strong and caring, as your great-grandfather was. I believe in you, Peter.
Your Grandma,
Katherine Elizabeth Sully
1973. "
"Hi, guys!" Peter greeted the kids as he entered the reception-room.
"Hi, Peter," Kat waved your hand. "How was your trip to NY? "
"Just great. I've brought something from the past with me, and it's very important. That's a pity, I couldn't do this long before."
Seven pairs of wondering eyes gazed at him
"Do you want me to talk about this a little more?"
"If you 're not mind" Daisy answered, giving voice to all the group wish. "We're noticed, as you were walking somewhere , reading something so attentively, that almost bumped into people…We're dying with curiosity what this could be… "
He smiled a bit:
"That's the archive of my family…Did you ever hear about Rocky Mountain National Park?"
"Sure!" few voices answered.
"My Greatgranddad was one of the creators of this Park…He struggled to protect the nature and all living creatures for the most of his life…But that's not less important, what kind of person he was…I'll tell you about him and his family a little more, if you want so… "
They sat silent for some time as he finished, and , looking at their faces, Peter understood, that they all were caught up by his story.
"Why don't you publish all this as a book?" Kat finally broke the silence. "I think that would be interesting. "
"My Grandma wished to do this, but , afraid, I know almost nothing about publishing…I'll think about this, anyway…"
"That was very interesting, they're right," Sophie stopped him, as he was going to leave. " Would you give me some of your archive to read?"
"Sure… There is my family album, very old…I liked to watch it when I was a kid…You can look at those pics together with me, if you want…"
"Sure," she agreed. "'d like to… " She paused, then, lowering her head said: "You were right,when this reporter came, you remember... I was jealous… "
"I know," he smiled.
"That was stupid… "
"I know," he repeated, his grin broader "but you're looking great when you're jealous……. "
He reached his office , as his cell phone called:
"Mr.Scarbrow, - he had heard some female voice, - This is Ms.Jackson…Melanie… "
"Yes, I know," Peter said coldly.
"Please, listen…" the voice sounded pleadingly. "I want to apologize for being so stupid and selfish, for putting you into such a danger..How are you?"
"I'm fine." He didn't want to talk with her.
"I looked at the people just like at some object for my job, but you forced me to look at things differently - "
She paused.
Truly said, - she continued then, "I was a kind of sweet on you…But don't worry , I'll never bother you again. Just tell the girls, I'm sorry…And tell the same to Ms.Becker. " She sighed and added: "She's such a lucky woman… Mr. Scarbrow, if I could do something for you, just ask me… "
Peter gazed at the cell phone for a few second, and finally said:
"Okay, Ms.Jackson, tell me more about how to release the book… "
--------
The squirrel noticed a cone on the ground and quickly slipped down from the tree to take it. But she was suddenly frightened off by one of those two-legged, who was wandering so deep in the woods for some reason, totally unknown for squirrel.
She watched from the tree as the man took off his knapsack and withdrew the book.
Then he unexpectedly spoke, opening the book:
"Well…I did this. Here is the book, I hope a lot of people will read it. I just want to tell, that's a great honour for me to be your Spirit-Keeper, and thank you for guarding me, for making me who I am…"
The man put the book back into his knapsack and rose from the log he was sitting on.. He turned to leave, but then turned back:
"I want to thank you for your wise advice… about waiting and patience…" the smile touched his lips, "you know, you were right, that was a really good advice…"
THE END
by Anna Shepeleva
I'm a fan of Joe Lando and Higher Ground from Russia
Joe gave life to two of great characters- Byron Sully from Doctor Quinn and Peter Scarbrow from Higher Ground.
So, here is an attempt to connect them two in one crossover story.
This night he saw his Grandma in his dream. Peter Scarbrow was surprised – he didn't think about her for a long time. When Peter was a kid, he loved his Grandma very much, although she lived so far away, in Oklahoma. Grandma lived a long life, more than a hundred years, the great age, but she told him once, this was not an age for Indians, especially before the whites came. She knew a lot about Indians – more than 50 years she lived in Indian reservation, teaching Indian children in local school. As she told, her husband - a doctor - was a Native American as well. Peter never saw him, because he died long before Peter's birth. Peter's mother was the last of four children, she was born, when Grandma was more than 45, and she didn't look as half-Indian, just her eyes were dark brown. Peter's eyes were deep blue,and Grandma told him, he looks more like her father, who was a kind of trapper, or something like this. .. Few times mother took him to Grandma (he was six or seven there). Peter remembered her small house, the spotted horse in a corral (Grandma sometimes rode the horse, in spite of her daughter protests), the Indian woman, Rachel, who was Grandma's companion…Two old women lived together for a long time, and their friendship was very strong. But, as Rachel died , Peter's mother decided that this is dangerous for such an old woman to live there alone, and insisted to take Grandma to New York. This was a big mistake. Grandma couldn't get on with Peter's father. She was too independent and straight, and often criticized him.
"You must pay more attention to your kids, Don Scarbrow" – she often told him, - "if you don't want any unpleasant surprises from them in future. And that would be not just their fault."
"I have a business, can't you understand?" he answered irritably
"Don't you think your business is more important than your own children?" she said. "They must stop fighting for every bit of your love"
"Such a quarrelsome old woman," he muttered, hoping she doesn't hear. But Grandma's ear was perfect.
" I don't care," she always answered. "Let him call me quarrelsome, but I'll say this again and again – all the kids need love and care from their fathers."
Finally, Grandma moved from them to the old people's shelter. That was her will, but Peter seemed, his mother sighed with relief… He visited her there few times, but not so often…He was very busy at school, trying to be the A-pupil…trying to induce his father to be proud of him. Grandma passed away when 12-years-old Peter was in summer camp. He was not at her funeral, because mother didn't want to upset him until he came back from the camp…Peter missed her, but the time finally healed this wound. Grandma was right…she was a kind of "prophet" . That was him, Peter Scarbrow, who gave his father "the unpleasant surprise", as he gave up in a battle for a bit of father's love…
In his dream, Peter was a little boy again, the little boy, who visited his Grandma in Oklahoma, and was looking over the old family album… Grandma was going to write a book about her father, who created the Rocky Mountain National park (she said that Peter took his interest to nature from him). But after her death her "archive" disappeared, nobody was interested in those dusty bundles of old papers.
The loud knock sound disturbed his sleep, and he awoke with a start. Somebody knocked to the door. That was Sophie. She looked irritated or even angry.
" Here is a guest for you, " she said, pointing at the dark-haired woman, who stood behind her.
" Welcome to Horizon, " Peter embarrassingly tried to wrap up his dressing gown., "you're a parent of some kid? "
The woman gave him a derisive look:
" Don't be so shy, you're looking quite good, really… " (Sophie glanced at her furiously) "No, I'm not a parent…Melanie Jackson, the journalist" she stretched her hand.
"Another scribbler" Sophie muttered barely audible (Peter silently thought the same).
" Are you going to write something about how dangerous those schools are?" Sophie asked sarcastically. "There was some reporter, who tried to pose as one of the troubled kids…collected horror stories…but I must warn you, Ms. Jackson – we don't need all this buffoonery again… "
Melanie smiled:
" No, at first, I have nothing to hide, I am a reporter…you can call me just "Mel." Secondly, my stories are more romantic …besides that, I like this landscape and wish to have a trip through these woods… "
"Okay, we'll plan the route for you…" Peter reluctantly promised, "Now, excuse me, ladies, I need to dress up… "
The least what Peter wished was another reporter. He was definitely drained off with the recent problems.The kid, who was brought here couple days ago, needed medical treatment instead of putting into Mt.Horizon. Many kids used drugs before coming here, but this guy was the complete drug addict , who couldn't handle several hours without another dose. His parents didn't tell Peter any word about it. They just brought him here and left. So, that was only Peter, who watched the fit of abstinent syndrome an hour later…Peter felt on his own back what the heroine addiction is, and knew very clear: he 's unable to do anything here….This was "not professional", but his heart still ached with every kid he couldn't help enough. Finally, Freddy Powell ended up in a hospital, and his parents instead of visiting their son there, rushed to Horizon to row.
" We were told here's the place for healing the drug addicts!" they yelled, "How did you allow this?! "
"How did YOU allow this?" Peter thought, "Where've you been while your son ruined himself for several months? Why didn't you worry about him, when we still were able to help?!"
Peter's group, "Cliffhangers", didn't allow him to relax as well – every now and then they presented him some "surprises" Even Sophie couldn't comfort him – he still couldn't understand what's wrong with her. She turned down all his courtship, as if she was afraid of something… Most of all Peter wished to spend a couple days in the woods by himself, to regain a balance in his body and soul…but this reporter came to spy around and follow him everywhere…then she'll write another rubbish for some "yellow" magazine….
" Such a loathsome person!" Sophie appeared at the door, " I barely have finished with her. "
" Where is she? "
Seems, she went to girl's dorm…Did you notice, how she undressed you with her glance?"
"Are you jealous?" Peter grinned .
"Sure, I'm not" she outraged, " just don't like all these reporters, spying around, and then writing something filthy."
Peter nodded:
" I don't like them as well…but we're already managed with one of them, remember? "
He tried to embrace her . She stepped aside. As usually.
" What do you think about your counselor?" Melanie asked. She came to girls' dorm to talk with them.
" Which one?" Kat asked, "there are a number of counselors here. "
Melanie grinned:
" The handsome one…Mr. Scarbrow, of course… "
" Peter? Well… we like him, he understands us… "
Melanie was definitely disappointed:
"That's good, but I meant different…did you ever dream about him… not as about your teacher? "
" He's too old for me… " Shelby chuckled
"Hope, the rest of you have different opinion," Melanie grinned, "come on, we all are just human beings, we all are women here,so be open…didn't you ever imagine how he rescues you from some danger, and you're somewhere in the woods, just you and him… "
" Would you sit somewhere else?" she had heard Daisy's voice from the door, "this is my bed."
"Sure," Melanie shrugged, - she stood up and moved to the empty bed. "Still can't believe, that no-one of you, girls, is sweet on him…well, I'll ask you another question – did you ever notice him…hmm…looking at one of you a little…different…?"
"What do you mean?" Juliette asked, rolling her eyes
"You're the pretty girls…he's a man…a handsome young man… "
"Are you writing for one of those dirty magazines for loonies?" Daisy interrupted her.
"You're just wasting your time here. Peter never tried to seduce any of us…and nobody of us tried to seduce him, that's all… "
"Perhaps, you 're too young, girls, and don't know yet…" Melanie condescensionly grinned.
"I know more than you even can imagine," Shelby said, "but anyway, nobody here is interested in your sexual fantasies. That's safe place, you know? "
"Okay, Shelby," Melanie leaned to her ear, -"do me a favor…you just told me "I know". Would you please tell me more… confidentially, of course…I swear not to post your name… "
Shelby jumped up and rushed from the dorm.
"What do you want here?" Kat asked, "you have no right to ask here your stupid questions!"
"You'd better leave, or I'll hurl something at you," Daisy said gloomy.
The look of her face showed that she's not kidding, and the reporter immediately departed.
"Where are you going?" Peter stopped Melanie . She dragged a large knapsack.
"For a walk," she answered .
"We 've cancelled our trip today.There was a storm warning by radio.Nobody will leave school. "
"The thunderstorm?" she looked at the sky. "Are you, "the mountain man", afraid of a thunderstorm?"
Peter didn't answer. This woman irritated him more and more, and he thought how he could get rid of her more politely.
"I've thought you like adventures... "
"I like when the people I 'm responsible for, are safe," he almost lost his patience, - NOBODY will leave school in such a weather. So, take off your knapsack and go back… "
"I'm not one of your pupils, you remember?" Melanie protested. "I don't have to follow the rules for your kids."
"You're the guest here, so you must follow the rules for the guests. Believe me, we have enough problems, so nobody wants to make a searching party because of your stubbornness." Melanie's eyes lit up, but Peter was so angry, that he didn't notice her reaction.
'Do you usually take part in these searching parties? "
"Yes." he turned away.
"Okay" she finally said, "But, truly said, I don't like to follow the rules. "
"Then you came the wrong door, Ms,Jackson." Peter 's patience was over.
"Never thought such a good looking man could be so boring" she muttered. "Okay, okay, Mr. Scarbrow, I'm coming back…"
Making his way back to his office, Peter noticed two girls sitting on the bench. Shelby was crying, and Daisy tried to comfort her.
Peter approached:
"Hi, what's wrong? "
"Peter, why you've brought this woman here?" Daisy gave him an angry look
"You mean, the reporter? I didn't. She just came … "
"She's crazy!" Daisy pointed at Shelby , who was still crying, "do you want to know what she asked us?"
"Another horror story? "
"No, she asked if we ever felt something …special to you…then , if YOU felt something…hmm, you understand..to one of the girls here… "
Peter's eyes rolled:
"What?! "
Daisy nodded
"You're not misheard…And then she asked Shelby to talk…about her life more, with more details…How do you like it? You'd better kick her off here! "
"Sure, I will, right now," Peter promised. "I'm sorry, girls, she told me she just wants to write some romantic story, about wild nature, etc…I 've never thought, she could be so.. "
"So crazy" Daisy finished. "Anyway, we don't want her to spy around anymore. "
"So am I" Pe6ter said. "I'm going to throw her off here immediately. "
Melanie was nowhere to be seen. Instead of her , there was a letter on the door of his cottage:
"I'm sorry, Mr.Scarbrow, but I've finally decided to go for a walk. I have no much time to look at this wilderness, and I'd like some adventures,on the contrary of you …Mel."
"Damn!" he whispered, crumpling the letter.
"What's happened?" he had heard Sophie's voice behind him.
"She left" Peter said, "wants some adventures. I hate the reporters! "
"Fine" - she grinned. "Let her soak there… "
Peter looked at the window. The wind was already gale-strength, and the trees bent under the gusts. He shook his head and sighed;
"That's too dangerous in the woods now. Didn't she tells you where she was going?"
Sophie shrugged:
"She asked me about this place, where the old bridge was… "
Peter frowned – he had very unpleasant memories about that bridge.
"… and about this cabin, you know…You can't go there alone, those two places are too far from each other…I'll go with you. "
"No, Soph," - he protested, "you'd better stay here. "
"Could you even imagine how I want to find her and say what I think about her before you'll stop me?! "
"Okay" Peter said reluctantly. "So, you'll go to the cabin, and I'll search for her near the bridge… "
"Perhaps, we'd better call Rog or … "
"No." Peter shook his head. "Nobody will drive here at this storm…Besides that, she couldn't go too far. "
"Take your walkie-talkie with you" Sophie asked him, "You'll call me if you find her…so will I… "
The storming wind doubled over the thick trees. Peter barely could see anything through the wall of the downpour.
"Mel! Mel, where are you!!!" he almost strained his voice, but nobody answered.
The river boiled up, and Peter thought, that Melanie, in spite of all her whimsical, will stay as far as possible from this roaring water…so, he must search deeper in the woods…
Suddenly, the walkie-talkie in his pocket squeaked.
"Peter.. get back..I've found her…" he had heard Sophie's voice.
"What? Soph, I barely hear you! "
"I've..found her! Get Back!" Sophie said louder.
"Okay, where you…" he began, but had heard the loud crash behind him. The old tree trunk lost its ground under another gust of the wind and broke .Before Peter could react, the tree knocked him off his feet. He sank on the ground, hitting his head with the top of the falling trunk. Then was blackness…
"Peter! Peter! Do you hear me? What's happened?!" Sophie yelled at the phone, but there was no any respond. She had heard the loud crush, then was silence.
Few minutes before she had found Melanie under the tree, not far from the cabin.
"Oh, I was so stupid! I've lost my way, and was wandering here for so many hours!"
Then she looked at Sophie with wonderment:
"But…where is Mr.Scarbrow?"
" Peter is searching for you at another place .I'll communicate with him by phone now, tell him, I've found you… "
Then connection broke…Walkie talkie was still deadly silent.
"Follow me" Sophie ordered. "I'll show you the way back to Horizon. "
Suddenly she stopped. Something was very strange…she wasn't aware at first, what's wrong, but finally understood…There could be a lot of Melanie's footprints, if she was wandering here for many hours in this deep mud. But there were just two chains of footprints – to the cabin and back to the place when Sophie had found her… -
"Ms.Jackson!" – she called her. The reporter turned her head.
"You didn't wandering here…you were in this cabin all the time, and came from there when you had heard my voice or saw the light of the torch. But you wished that would be Peter to find you…You did this purposely, Melanie!"
"Yes, I did!" Melanie passed to the offensive. "I 'm writing for one of women's magazines…for rich women…I've seen the picture of Peter…Mr.Scarbrow…in a newspaper, where was the article about your school…A man like him…so handsome, and attractive…would draw my readers' attention for sure… so, I was going to write a romantic story, how I was wandering out of the way deep in the woods, and this man , no…a kind of a Living God at the Zenith of his Manhood… rescued me…I know, that was a foolhardiness from me, to go there in such a weather, but sometimes the people of my profession must risk their lives."
"But you have no right to risk other's lives" Sophie interrupted her - seems, something wrong has happened with Peter…"
Melanie raised her eyebrows:
"He's a "mountain man" isn't he? Don't you think he could take care about himself?"
"You'd better shut up" Sophie said through her teeth.
Melanie looked at her suspiciously;
"You.. you love him….am I right? You're worrying so much…"
"Yes! Yes!" Sophie yelled. "Now shut your mouth even for a little while!"
"I'm sorry." Melanie said, but Sophie didn't respond…
Some man leaned at him…His face was the first Peter saw as he opened his eyes.
Peter touched his head and wiped the blood, oozing from the deep gush near his temple. The stranger gazed at him , there was concern in his blue eyes.
"I'll help you up, - he finally broke the silence, - we need get out of here now."
" I can't" Peter answered. His head ached and he couldn't move his left leg. "I broke my leg."
"You must," the man insisted, - this tree (he pointed somewhere above) is all rotten inside too. Another gust-and it will fall on you…I know it hurts, but we have no time…take my hand!"
Peter grabbed man's hand and , clenching his teeth struggled to rose on his good foot. He couldn't keep his balance as the stranger suddenly pushed him away . Next second the rotten tree crunched and fell down hitting the spot, where Peter'd head was few seconds before…
Peter couldn't thank his rescuer because he passed out from the pain.
As he woke, he found himself laying in a small cave on his sleeping bag. Peter turned his head to the entry of the cave. The rain and storming wind stopped, and the stranger, who saved his life, was sitting there near the small campfire, back to Peter. He could see just his long golden-brown hair with some gray locks in it, falling down on his broad shoulders, wrapped in a leather jacket. Suddenly he rose on his feet and approached Peter:
"How are you?" he asked.
"My head…hurts," Peter muttered, - and my left leg.
"Your leg is broken. I've made a splint for it."
"Thank you" Peter managed. His head hurt more as he was speaking.
He glanced around. The nearest cave he knew was at more than a half-mile distance from the place he was injured.
"You…dragged me from there all the way?" he asked.
The stranger shrugged:
"That was so dangerous to stay there in such a weather…Drink this, this will reduce the pain." He offered Peter a cup with some bitter liquid. Peter didn't ask what it is, but drank obediently and eased himself back on the sleeping bag. The pain was not so sharp now, but he was exhausted and wanted to sleep. He closed his eyes.
"Don't go to sleep," the stranger's voice turned him back to reality. "You hit your head, so you must stay awake, even for several hours…Open your eyes and talk to me."
"Okay" Peter muttered, struggling to keep his eyes open.
"Who is Sophie?" the man suddenly asked. "Is she searching for you now?"
"Perhaps" Peter answered, and immediately turned his head to his interlocutor in great wonderment "Where did you know about Sophie?"
"You spoke this name before losing consciousness. .."
"Sophie is a friend of mine..she's a counselor in Mt.Horizon school, just like me…"
"Seems, you have some…problems, no, some vagueness in your relationships?" the stranger asked.
Usually, Peter didn't like to talk about his private life. But he suddenly felt he could trust this man, as if he was the only one who was able to listen and understand Peter…
"Yes, you're right" he said. He didn't know why, but he told this stranger all his story, including those years, he was still ashamed even to think about …
"She pushes me away all the time, as if she's afraid…but I never could frighten her…"
His interlocutor listened him attentively, his blue eyes were sympathetic.
"Do you know how she lived these 3 years without you?" he asked.
"Just according to her words" Peter answered, "she was travelling across the Africa…Truly said, I don't know much, Sophie is very independent and reticent person….She came back to stay here, but…something is wrong, seems, I'll never break the wall she'd built between us."
"Once I felt the same" the man nodded, - more then once, as was courting my future wife. She raised in a different society and was afraid to "break the wall", as you just told. I needed three years before she stopped to be scared."
"But Sophie was different! " Peter exclaimed and winced as the pain flared in his head , caused by his own loud voice.
"She was different," he repeated, taking his breath, "she isn't afraid. We had wonderful time together, I was going to propose her, but once she just disappeared …"
"I think, she 's scared…just doesn't want you to notice this."
"Can't imagine Sophie is scared of something…she's strong."
"Not so strong, that you think…but she's trying to hide it."
"So…what can I do?" Peter asked helplessly. "You just told, your wife behaved the same."
"Just wait…Be patient. That what I did, as I was courting Michaela. And don't give up, she loves you."
"Why do you know?" Peter asked.
"I know," the man answered evasively. "Just trust me." He took off the small leather pouch from under his jacket and put it into Peter's palm. "Take this…You deserved to wear it, because you're following the right path."
"You know, I've lost my way once…more than once, I was deep down."
"I know" the man nodded, "but you are fighting with your demons and winning the battle…"
He stopped near the entry of the cave.
"I had heard some voices. Your Sophie will find you soon… and I need to go."
"Wait, please" Peter protested, "let me introduce you to her…I'm sorry, I didn't even ask your name…I'm Peter Scarbrow…"
"I know" the man said. "I'm Sully…No, she can't see me…nobody except you…"
He went out of the cave, but turned back for a second and said:
"Don't give up! "
Peter tried to sit up a little, he was going to ask, what this man meant, "nobody could see him". But as he raised his head, the world began spinning around, and he slipped down into a black hole again….
The next time when he opened his eyes, he was lying on the bed in a hospital. He glanced around and saw Sophie, who was sitting near his bed with the book in her hands.
"Soph" Peter called her. His voice was so weak that she didn't respond.
"Soph," he repeated, a little more louder and touched her hand She immediately put the book aside and bent on him:
"Oh.. you're awake! How are you?" there was a worrying look in her eyes, he had never seen before,…she definitely was worried about him.
"My head…hurts," Peter said. He touched his head and felt the bandage…
"I'll call a doctor…" Sophie rushed away.
After the doctor checked on him, Sophie sat near his bed again.
"I'm glad that you'll be fine soon," she said, smiling a bit. "I'll call to Horizon, kids are worrying too…"
She withdrew the cell phone:
"Hi, who is that? Kat? Kat, tell the others – Peter awoke…he's better, doctor said, he could be out of the hospital within ten days…What? They are here? The entire group? Tell Jeff, I'll be late in evening…What? Are you sure? But how…okay, thank you, I appreciate this…Sure, I'll stay here…Yes… Okay:"
She put the phone to Peter's ear and he had heard the discordant chorus of voices:
"Get well! We miss you! "
Peter smiled:
"Thank you…I'll be soon. "
"You scared us all," Sophie said, the tears glittering in her eyes. "You've been out about three days…The doctor said, you have a severe concussion."
"Yes…The tree..it fell and knocked me out…I hit my head… "
"That was great that you left those marks, we had found you soon… "
"What marks?" Peter opened his eyes wide, looking at her in wonderment .
"On the trees, from the place you were injured – there were remains of your walkie-talkie – to this cave…don't know how you guessed, in your condition…you even made a campfire near the cave… "
"Did you meet someone there?" Peter asked, some...stranger?"
"No..you were alone, and there were just your footprints on the ground."
"She ought not see me…nobody except you" Peter remembered…So strange, how could this man just disappear, not leaving any sign of his presence…Besides that, something familiar was in his name, Peter could swear, he had heard this unusual name before…
Sophie noticed the tension in his face, and looked at him worryingly:
"Are you alright…I mean, perhaps, I'll call the doctor?"
"No," he protested, "I'm alright …Did you find this crazy woman…the reporter?"
"Yes," Sophie said, "I've found her…Truly said, most of all I wished to kill her immediately, for putting you into such a danger… " Her eyes suddenly moistened, and she squeezed Peter's hand more tightly: "I was worried so much about you…I was afraid to lose you… "
This was so unusual for Sophie – Peter had never seen her crying before…
"Soph," he began, but she wiped her eyes and said firmly:
"Peter…I need to tell you something…are you up to listen? "
"Sure, I am… "
She took a deep breath:
"Well…I was angry at this woman, but I behaved not much better once…when I left you without saying a word… "
"Don't blame yourself," Peter said, "that was so long ago."
"Listen!" she insisted, "I was stupid…I was going to test my feeling…no, truly said, I mostly wanted to test YOUR feelings to me, to check, if you'll miss me. I was going to be back within two or three weeks… just visit few of my friends…One day I've stopped in a small motel…I didn't remember exactly where it was. I went to the bar, to buy some soda, and some man pestered me all the time I was there…He was drunk, and, as I pushed him away, told me, he'll find me anyway. I left and went to my room, locking the door. I was so self-assured, was sure, I'm able to defend myself in any case. " She stopped, gathering herself up: "I was wrong" she continued. "I've locked the door, but forgot about the window…He came through the window, and put a knife to my throat ..I fought, but this was like to beat the stone wall…There were just a few people there, and nobody had heard my screams…The motel owner found me in the morning…I was put into the hospital, but…I'll never be the complete woman anymore…"
She stopped again, fighting back tears. Peter reached up his hand and touched her wet cheek:
"Soph…you ought not to tell more, if this is so hard for you…No matter what's happened, this never could change what I feel to you…"
But Sophie shook her head:
"No, I need you to know everything…I'm barren, I'll never have a child of my own…Besides that, I'm still afraid of any man's touch, even yours…I know, that's stupid, but I need time to recover…You could think, I feel nothing to you, but that's wrong …I just don't know how much time I need…"
"Don't worry, - Peter wiped the tear from her cheek. – I want you to know I can wait as long as you need. Just be sure, I'll always be here for you…if you need someone to talk with you…or to hold you. "
She bent on him to kiss him lightly:
"You couldn't even imagine, how I appreciate this… "
She turned away, and when looked at Peter again, there was almost this Sophie he always knew, no any tears on her cheeks, but the look of her eyes was different anyway.
"I 'm sorry…seems, you're not up for such a long conversation" she looked at his face wrinkled with pain
"No, I'm fine," he weakly protested, "would you please bring me some water?"
"Sure" - she rushed from the room.
Peter closed his eyes. He was very perplexed by Sophie's behavior… he hoped, his rescuer was right about their relationships… Then he started to think about this strange man…He pictured him in his mind, sitting near the campfire, his long hair falling down on his shoulders…He dragged unconscious Peter on his shoulders more than a half of mile, there was a terrible wind and rain around – but his hair was DRY, such as his leather jacket…His disappearance…his words about "nobody could see me except you"…perhaps, there was just some kind of delirium, caused by his concussion… He tried to convince himself, that this was just a dream, and almost succeeded in this task.
Sophie returned with a glass of water and he gratefully drained it.
"Thank you, I'm much better now" he sighed with relief, closing his eyes Suddenly, he felt her hand, gently patting his cheek. He opened his eyes, gazing at her. Sophie looked embarassed:
"Oh, I'm sorry," she managed a smile, "just wanted to check that you're here…alive…"
"I'm here, don't worry" he whispered.
She smiled again, this time more naturally: "You look tired, get some sleep…" she said.
"Stay with me" Peter asked her, and , to his wonderment, she immediately agreed, sitting on the chair near his bed.
After a brief pause she added: "Oh, I've nearly forgotten…Here, you were squeezed this in your hand, we hardly unclenched it."
There was a small leather pouch in her hand. This thing was real, he could touch it, hold it… Peter didn't know what to think, his mind was unable to explain him, what's happened…But he was still too weak for further conversations, so before drifting off to sleep he just took the pouch and put it under his pillow. Once more he saw a dream about his Grandma, and himself as a little boy, looking at the old family album…As he woke up, he already knew where he had heard this strangers' name. That was Grandma's surname, Katherine Sully…Once she told little Peter that her father hated his given name "Byron" and everyone called him just Sully…
Soon after the cast on his leg was removed, Peter left for NY. His older brother still lived in the house where Peter was born.
"Hi, Peter," Marc's wife looked at him with some fear. "Marc is not at home now…He'll not be back until the weekend…"
"You ought not to be afraid of me, Ginny," Peter managed a smile, "you've seen me before eight years ago, and I've changed a lot since this time…"
"Yes, sure," Ginny said, but there still was a fear in her eyes…
Peter couldn't blame her. He imagined how he looked when he visited his brother last time: a sunken junky, old threadbare jeans and baggy dirty sweater, long unkempt hair , shaky hands –insufferable sight for the wife of flourishing businessman…Seems, Ginny looks at him like this even now.
"Perhaps, you could help me, Ginny…I'm searching for my Grandma's archive…There was a wooden box …I've remembered, Mother brought it home after Grandma was gone…hope it's still here."
Ginny sighed with relief…probably, she thought, he came to ask for money.
"Marc moved it into the garage…but there is nothing interesting, just some old papers. "
"Exactly. That's what I need…May I take them with me or I need to ask Marc before?"
"No, take them." Ginny was glad, that he's going to leave. "Here is the key… "
He closed his eyes and inhaled the smell of dust and motor oil..He remembered himself standing there, trying to talk with his father, as he prepared to leave for his office…Don Scarbrow nodded, as Peter talked, but Peter saw he didn't listen…
"Your kids ought not to fight for every bit of your love" – Grandma said to Scarbrow-Sr. Yes, they fought for his love and attention for many years…As Grandma told him how close she was with his father, 7-years-old Peter even cried stealthily, wishing his own father to be the same to him.
Peter shook his head and opened the box. The family album was on the top. As he turned the first page, he immediately recognized his mysterious rescuer – he was there on the picture, holding little Katie, Peter's Grandma. He looked much younger, but that was definitely he.
The next thing he had find was a bundle with Grandma's diaries, she small notebooks, some of them were very old, their pages brittled with time…Peter placed one, the newest of them,into his pocket. Then he carefully put the contain of the box into his bag.
All the way from NY Peter was reading the notebook…It was the last of Grandma's diaries…
"I've watched today the film about Rocky Mountain National Park…even now, so many years later, there are tears on my eyes, as I've heard "Byron Sully, one of the creators of this park…" I know, I'll join you soon, because I'm too old…but I miss you so much, Pa, all this time. I know what had happened in 1892 – there was an epidemic of malaria in an Indian Reservation, and the agent asked some doctor come and vaccinate those who had not this disease yet.…So, you and Ma came there, because you were always ready to help people…then Ma told me, you were shot point-blank defending a pregnant Indian woman from some drank soldier, who tried to abuse her… They buried you like an Indian, it was a sign of great respect; we agreed because this would be what you could wish. I know, you joined the Spirits. But you told once, not to me, but to Brian, before I was born, and he was just a little boy, grieving for his friend: "Cheyenne would say No Harm's joined his ancestors with the Great Spirit. But his spirit is still here with us,... I think he's with you, every time you think 'bout him" So, I believe, your spirit is somewhere around, because we remember you and think about you…I knew through all my long life, you're somewhere around to support me, to help, when I'm down…Now, I remained the only one, who knew you, but I'm glad to tell you, that one of my grandsons reminds me of you a lot. Sometimes I'm worrying about him, because he is too kind and sensitive for this cruel world, and he has not such a good father and friend at his side, as you were for me. But I hope, he's strong enough to bear it, like you were, and I bequeath all those papers, all the history of our family, to him."
Peter stopped. That was a last phrase on this page, but he had found some more sentences on the next one, and he was astonished finding his name there:
'Pete, I always knew that would be you who is reading this diary now, not Marc or one of your cousins. I don't know, how many years passed until you'll read this, perhaps, you're already grown-up, but I hope, you still remember me. I can't foresee, what kind of life you choose to live, but, anyway, I want you to know what my father once told me: " A lot of people are crazy about their money, their career, their high position, but it's not important. Much more important is to care for the people who need your care, and remember those who are worth to be remembered" He was not saint, but he always cared for people, he was the shoulder, everyone could lean on. You remind me of him, Pete, and I wish you to be the same. I was going to write a book about my father, Byron Sully, but this is more difficult, than I've thought. I'm afraid, I have no much time. There was an Indian ceremony of "Spirit Keeping",( perhaps, you ever read about this), and I came through it in 1892. Now I want YOU to be our Spirit Keeper. There are the Indian beads in this box. Take them as you already took the medicine pouch"
Peter was shocked. He couldn't believe his eyes – Grandma wrote this more than 25 years ago, when he was just about 12…How could she know? He believed in mysterious stories, as he was a kid. Grown-up Peter was much more practical, he still liked to read the books about Native American culture and Steven King's novels, but this was just a hobby, nothing more. He touched the medicine pouch under his shirt and, overcoming himself, returned to his reading:
"I know, you already have this gift, and that was the reason why you're searching for my papers. I bequeath them to you and wish you to be so kind, strong and caring, as your great-grandfather was. I believe in you, Peter.
Your Grandma,
Katherine Elizabeth Sully
1973. "
"Hi, guys!" Peter greeted the kids as he entered the reception-room.
"Hi, Peter," Kat waved your hand. "How was your trip to NY? "
"Just great. I've brought something from the past with me, and it's very important. That's a pity, I couldn't do this long before."
Seven pairs of wondering eyes gazed at him
"Do you want me to talk about this a little more?"
"If you 're not mind" Daisy answered, giving voice to all the group wish. "We're noticed, as you were walking somewhere , reading something so attentively, that almost bumped into people…We're dying with curiosity what this could be… "
He smiled a bit:
"That's the archive of my family…Did you ever hear about Rocky Mountain National Park?"
"Sure!" few voices answered.
"My Greatgranddad was one of the creators of this Park…He struggled to protect the nature and all living creatures for the most of his life…But that's not less important, what kind of person he was…I'll tell you about him and his family a little more, if you want so… "
They sat silent for some time as he finished, and , looking at their faces, Peter understood, that they all were caught up by his story.
"Why don't you publish all this as a book?" Kat finally broke the silence. "I think that would be interesting. "
"My Grandma wished to do this, but , afraid, I know almost nothing about publishing…I'll think about this, anyway…"
"That was very interesting, they're right," Sophie stopped him, as he was going to leave. " Would you give me some of your archive to read?"
"Sure… There is my family album, very old…I liked to watch it when I was a kid…You can look at those pics together with me, if you want…"
"Sure," she agreed. "'d like to… " She paused, then, lowering her head said: "You were right,when this reporter came, you remember... I was jealous… "
"I know," he smiled.
"That was stupid… "
"I know," he repeated, his grin broader "but you're looking great when you're jealous……. "
He reached his office , as his cell phone called:
"Mr.Scarbrow, - he had heard some female voice, - This is Ms.Jackson…Melanie… "
"Yes, I know," Peter said coldly.
"Please, listen…" the voice sounded pleadingly. "I want to apologize for being so stupid and selfish, for putting you into such a danger..How are you?"
"I'm fine." He didn't want to talk with her.
"I looked at the people just like at some object for my job, but you forced me to look at things differently - "
She paused.
Truly said, - she continued then, "I was a kind of sweet on you…But don't worry , I'll never bother you again. Just tell the girls, I'm sorry…And tell the same to Ms.Becker. " She sighed and added: "She's such a lucky woman… Mr. Scarbrow, if I could do something for you, just ask me… "
Peter gazed at the cell phone for a few second, and finally said:
"Okay, Ms.Jackson, tell me more about how to release the book… "
--------
The squirrel noticed a cone on the ground and quickly slipped down from the tree to take it. But she was suddenly frightened off by one of those two-legged, who was wandering so deep in the woods for some reason, totally unknown for squirrel.
She watched from the tree as the man took off his knapsack and withdrew the book.
Then he unexpectedly spoke, opening the book:
"Well…I did this. Here is the book, I hope a lot of people will read it. I just want to tell, that's a great honour for me to be your Spirit-Keeper, and thank you for guarding me, for making me who I am…"
The man put the book back into his knapsack and rose from the log he was sitting on.. He turned to leave, but then turned back:
"I want to thank you for your wise advice… about waiting and patience…" the smile touched his lips, "you know, you were right, that was a really good advice…"
THE END