Memories. They were thick in the bunkhouse that night. Thick enough and real enough that there was hardly room for the living, breathing occupants of the building. They all could feel it. Feel the ghosts wandering by, brushing lightly against them as they fought for slumber.
Some seemed comforted by the images, the specters of the past that glided around the room filling every corner with what once was.
Buck and Ike both heard singing when they chanced to close their eyes in search of sleep. For Buck the melodies came from a beautiful lady singing in a language he had little opportunity to speak anymore. Still the words would always warm his heart and make him feel safe and sheltered. He could see her shining black hair cascading over her shoulders as she swayed lightly with the simple and lilting tune. These moments were her rare peaceful times as well. Times when she could just be, when there was no judgment, no pain, no sorrow. There was only love and tenderness and comfort.
Ike saw the simple calico patterned dress and felt arms warm and sheltering around him. A hand stroked his face and rubbed light circles on his back as the tune wove its way through his head and heart. He thought he had forgotten the song until a few weeks prior when the horse had kicked him and Emma had hummed it. It took him back. He had always feared going back, revisiting the past but found there was comfort and solace to be found there.
A different sort of something came to Cody from across the years. A tiny woman sat on the edge of his bed reading. She was a proper lady to be sure. Her eyes that usually conveyed such sorrow and heartache would glow with excitement at these quiet times. She wouldn't merely read the words on the page. Swashbuckling pirates and assorted villains were brought to life for him as he gripped his blankets tightly with concern and anxiety for the heroes who would invariably swoop in and save the day in just the nick of time. Even now, years later, Cody felt the smile play across his face as he knew the same adventure filled dreams would come to him this night as had come years before.
Lou, it seemed, was finding comfort in the ghosts of the past as well. She recalled sitting at the knee of a kindly woman who was guiding her hands to work a needle. She had started with simple mending but now was making a dress for her one and only doll. It was of a lovely yellow calico left over from the new dress that Lou was now wearing proudly. The gentle woman was calmly instructing her as to how to add lace to the frock. Lou tried and it didn't turn out. She looked to the woman with worry. A gentle laugh like music came from the lady along with the simple lesson of how to remove the stitches and begin again. There was no scolding, no judgment. There was just warmth and nurturing.
Not all of the residents of the bunkhouse found memories to comfort them. They seemed, in fact, more haunted by the images they faced.
While he did not openly toss or turn on his bunk, Kid wore a frown borne of pain and regret. The images he saw were of a broken shell of a woman. She was no less a lady in his eyes than any other. In fact, she was the greatest lady he knew. She was kind and gentle and forgiving to a fault. His heart hurt to think of how hard she struggled to hold her head up against the whispers that fluttered behind her back when they went to church on Sundays. That was a difficult enough memory but the one that haunted him right then was helping this dear lady to her bed as she cried. He would wipe the blood from her face and cradle her head gently as he offered sips of water. She would reach a trembling hand to caress his smooth face and tell him what a good boy he was, how proud she was of him, how she just knew he would do great things and be a great man someday. If only she could have lived to see that someday. It would never stop eating at him that he had done so little to save her. She deserved more from him, from the world as a whole but especially from him.
Jimmy did toss and turn. The noise he made shifting in his bunk masked the sounds of his hitched breath from his tears. There was a lady in his mind as well. A sweet lady. A kind lady. A gentle lady who sang to him as Buck and Ike had been sung to. A vibrant lady who could tell him grand stories. They were not from any book but from the power of her imagination. Her whole body would come to life with the tales. Her hands would speak as much as her voice and her eyes would sparkle with the adventures she wove and the stories she spun. If only those were the only things he could see of her. If only the lady could remain the loving and joyful lady of these visions. But others clouded his view of her joy, her peace. He saw a hulking man and a fist connecting with the lady's startled and frightened face. He tried but he was too small and weak to stop the man. He would pay later for even the attempt. If only…if only he could have saved her. If only he could have repaid the tender care she showed him.
The young men and woman were quiet in their thoughts although they all felt the weight of the memories the others were recalling as heavily as they felt their own. They all owed so much to the lady in the memories. For, while she might not be the same woman in each vision of the past…in some truth, they were all seeing the same lady. She might look different or show her love in a different way…but there was only one lady.
Ma…Khaw Khoye…Mama…Mother…
I wrote this one a while back and readers at the Ranch will recognize it. It was written for a challenge. We had to use random title and plot generators. I got the title Lady in the Memory and this came to me. After Emma shows her watch to them all, Jimmy isn't the only one affected by memories.
I had held off posting this here until now because the day after tomorrow is Mother's Day here in the US. So...to all my fellow mamas...and to the special aunties and friends who are like aunties...Happy Mother's Day!-J