Chapter Nine
They had been eastbound for five hours and visually the desert's wrath was behind them, but to the still form lying in the back of the wagon, the affects of its toxicity still held on tight. Slim knew that Jess was sick from the moment the gun had been in his face, as just one look at him was evidence enough of that everything that he had endured physically had added another stout punch to his system. Not even a hundred feet of scenery would pass before Slim would turn his body to look at Jess, again and again he did so, making sure that Jess was still fighting with all of his might. He was, but Jess was doing it in the form of unconsciousness, for he had been dwelling in his own darkness since Slim had slapped the reins on the backs of the horses to get them in a forward motion.
The Bronson farm came into view at dusk, with Mr. Bronson doing the duties once more in going for the doctor, but Slim wasn't planning on using the family's guest room for Jess' care as he had done before with Andy, but to take him all the way home. Slim wanted Jess at the ranch, as home was the most fitting place to be, citing in his head the worst case scenario, although the explanation was never made out loud. Once stopped at the hitching rail, Slim gave Jess another worried glance, but his attention was quickly diverted when Andy stepped out of the Bronson's house. His face was pale and his arm was in a sling, and even though Slim felt relief in seeing his brother on his feet and in a much healthier state than when he'd left him in Mrs. Bronson's guest bed, the concern for Jess outweighed any elation. The distressed emotion quickly spread to Andy, for he darted to the wagon without any regard for the searing jolt that touched his line of stitches.
"Is Jess all right?" Andy asked, clutching the side of the wagon with his free hand. "He looks…" the brown eyes darted up to search his brother's face, "even worse than before."
"He's in bad shape, Andy," Slim answered, knowing that he couldn't skirt around the truth. "We best get him home where we can properly tend to him. Mr. Bronson's going to have the doctor meet us there."
Helping Andy into the wagon seat beside him, Slim thanked Mrs. Bronson for all of her help and promised that he would send Ben back with the wagon once they got Jess safely into bed. The ride home was spent mostly in solitude, as Andy joined Slim with similar frequency of glances to the wagon bed, with no need to mention every few minutes that there wasn't any change to be seen. There was a sense of relief, however, when Slim pulled the wagon to a stop in front of the house, for Doctor Sweeney was waiting for them at their front door.
Slim instructed Andy to remain outside, not wanting his brother to know the details of Jess' injuries. It was painful enough for his own eyes to view the damage that had been done to his partner, and Slim didn't think it wise for Andy to absorb the same scenes. Slim stood still as the doctor worked, not liking or even understanding the "hmm" and "uh-huh" noises that came through the physician's lips every few minutes. The two worded, "not good," was clear enough, however, and Slim couldn't stop the quiver that started at the top of his back that went all the way down to his toes.
"There's not much more that I can do for him," Doctor Sweeney said as he snapped his medical bag closed. "The bandages will need to be changed every morning and his wounds kept clean. That fever's likely to be a stubborn one so try to get him to drink if he'll take it and keep a cool cloth on his head. Medicine and care can only do so much, though, so the rest will be up to his own strength and determination."
"Well, we know that he has plenty of that," Slim said with confidence, gazing down at Jess' sleeping form.
"Well, he had plenty of that," Doctor Sweeney said with so much emphasis on the way that he had changed Slim's choice of words that Slim whipped his head sharply around with eyes flashing and a rosy tone quickly developing in his cheeks to stare at the doctor.
"What do you mean?"
"Every man has the fight inside of him to live," Doctor Sweeney said with too much somberness in his voice, "but Jess has been fighting and fighting and fighting and too much has gone out of him. Just look at him, Slim. A man can only take so much. Given a number of blows, any one of us could fall."
"Not Jess," Slim said, the sharp tone to his voice was like glass breaking somewhere.
"I'll check back in on him in a day or two," Doctor Sweeney returned his hat to his head, knowing that there wasn't any point in arguing his patient's overall condition with the man's best friend and with a step toward the door, he added, "I'll see myself out. Don't forget to make sure that Andy takes it easy with that shoulder."
"Sure, Doc," Slim barely worded his reply as he heard the doctor exit the house.
There had been no shortage of urgency or fear inside of Slim when the possible death of Jess had been reported and his search to discover its truth began. Everywhere in the hazards of the dry country, even after the discovery that the grave didn't belong to Jess, Slim had been prepared to find that the only thing left alive of his partner was a memory. But now Jess was no longer lost out in the desert, he was home, right there in front of him and Slim was still holding onto the same fear.
"You've made it this far, Jess," Slim spoke softly, not knowing if Jess could hear him or not. "I know you're not going to give up now."
"The chains, Slim," Jess suddenly said, hearing in muted tones his partner's voice from afar, but what he saw wasn't comforting surroundings, but the barren wasteland of suffering. "The chains, they, ah, ow… help me," his words finished with a groan and a twist of his body as he recoiled against the persistent pain and the haunting memories that still existed inside of his mind.
"The chains are gone, Jess," Slim gently put his hands on Jess' shoulders. "You're safe, you're right here at home."
"It's hot," Jess breathed in the air that was around him, but it still felt like a torch had touched his lungs, "I ain't gonna make it outta the heat. Slim, the shackles, the shackles are like fire."
"Your ankles and wrists are free," Slim said soothingly, trying to reach through the barrier that was inside of Jess so that he could understand the depth of his words. "The shackles can't hurt you anymore. They were just outward binders, not something that could harness your heart. You've always been unshackled, nothing can chain your spirit, nothing can ever really hold you down. You're Jess Harper. That name says enough right there. You just hold on, Pard, you're going to make it through this."
Jess went quiet, but also blessedly, his body went still, not writhing in his affliction as he dropped into a different level of slumber. Somewhere inside of him, Jess was still chained to the desert. The heat from the fever was like the heat of the land that had contained him and until the temperature inside of Jess was broken, the desert was still alive. Slim sunk to the bed next to Jess, clasping his hands together in front of him, only looking up once when Andy entered the room. There was nothing either of them could do, for they could only touch the surface of Jess' need and couldn't go to the depths where the pulsating fire resided.
Day turned into night, but nothing changed. Night turned into a new day, and everything was the same. The only difference in the room was that Slim and Andy had switched positions, as Andy was seated on the bed next to Jess, and Slim rested his shoulder against the wall between the two bunks. Neither one could take their eyes off of Jess, but both bodies would flinch with every groan or movement that came from the sick man's bed. The following gasp that came through Jess' lips did more than make them jump, but it was enough to make man and boy want to cry.
"I need rain, God, please, make it rain again," Jess whispered, his hands clawing the blanket away from him as if it was too much to bear.
"What's he talking about, Slim?" Andy asked with a shudder to his frame. "It hasn't rained here all summer."
"I know," Slim answered grimly. "There's no way for us to know what Jess sees, hears and feels right now. We best bathe his face again, Andy. I'll go get some fresh water from the well."
"Need…rain…" Jess barely breathed the words.
It wasn't really a dream, for they were reserved for those that were asleep, but as Jess hovered on the edge of a fevered form of wakefulness, the images that he saw were as clear as if they were his reality. He lay on the desert floor, his back to its dry, hard surface, as the heat threatened to turn him into the very dust that was beneath him. He looked up to the sky, but the bright, brilliant blue had nothing to offer him. No relief, no help, no hope. He gasped, the sound in his throat not meriting the agony that he actually felt as the heat pressed down on him like he was covered by a heavy blanket. Why did it have to be so unbearably hot? If only it would rain. It had saved him before and Jess knew it could save him again, but there was nothing in the sky but blue.
A cool breeze touched him first, and Jess turned his face to meet it. He couldn't find where it had come from, but it was there. Imagination couldn't create something that felt so refreshing. Jess searched everywhere, but there were still no clouds. He breathed as deeply as his body allowed, smelling the aroma, tasting the change that was in the air. There was moisture there and it would battle the heat, settle the dust, but most importantly, it was coming to him. The first drop was on his lips now.
"Slim, look," Andy's voice was quiet, afraid that even speaking above a whisper could alter what he was viewing. Jess began to move, not in a frightening, fevered response as he had before, but turned his face, reacting to the damp cloth that Andy brushed over his cheeks, lashes and mouth, giving an extra squeeze over his lips.
It was raining. Unlike the torrent of the thunderstorm, what dripped onto Jess' skin was like a fine mist, blown onto his face in soft waves of life-saving moisture. The water soaked into his hair, trickled down the side of his cheek and rested on his lips. The sky was shimmering now, like the surface of a lake, sparkling with the multitude of raindrops that were cascading down to meet him, a gentle waterfall from heaven made only for him. Jess reached his hand out to touch it, and as the dewdrops hit his palm, a hand came from above and clasped onto his own. At that moment, everything around him was as it should have been.
"Welcome home, Pard."
"Slim?" Jess blinked his eyes twice and felt pressure on his palm as Slim gripped his outstretched hand. Jess knew the strength behind that clasp and nodded his head with the acknowledgement of his partner, but there was another he needed to see. "Andy?"
"I'm right here, Jess," Andy's voice turned Jess' head to meet his and a smile grew on a weary face.
"You're going to be all right, Jess," Slim said, unable to contain his own smile. "The worst is over."
"The shackles, Slim," Jess removed his hand from Slim's, holding his wrist up in front of his face to get the full view that they were still gone, moving his ankles at the same time, and although there was pain in his feet, they were completely iron free. "They're gone, they're all gone, back in the desert where they belong." There was a contented sigh that filled the span of a brief pause, before a poignant, "I'm free."
"Rest easy, now, Pard," Slim said as Jess' eyelids began to flutter back closed. There was a difference this time as Jess fell into a more natural sleep. There was a peacefulness not only in the way Jess was lying still, with even breathing and more color in his cheeks, but it was a feeling that spread out into the remainder of the room. It brought an embrace between two brothers who could finally apply Jess' last words to their own selves, for they, too, had been set free.
There was a magnitude of difference in the air two full days later, not just in the fact that the sun wasn't shining, but in how the mood was set in the Sherman house, without tension, but glowing with the light of elation. Slim was in the kitchen, tapping into the days of the past with the memory of Jonesy by his side to make the best breakfast he'd ever cooked. Andy had just entered the front door, sniffing the aroma of flapjacks and bacon and with a contented smile, he turned in the direction of the bedroom.
"Morning, Jess," Andy said, walking through the door. "Finally looks like it's going to be a cooler, cloudy day."
"Good to know. Hey, you ain't wearing your sling anymore," Jess said, noticing Andy's free arm as soon as he entered the room.
"Yeah," Andy nodded, touching the quickly healing wound with his hand. "It was more of a hindrance than a help, but if Doc Sweeney stops by, don't tell him I took it off."
"You won't hear me tattling."
"Thanks. Are you feeling better, Jess?" Andy grew a half smile to his face as he shifted his voice from question to statement. "You certainly ate your weight at suppertime last night, that's always a good sign."
"You bet, and I'm aiming to do the same with breakfast this morning," Jess swung his legs around to the edge of the bed, reached for his pants and stuck his legs into them. "'Cept I'm gonna do it at the table."
"Do you think you can walk?" Andy asked with a note of urgency in his voice, not wanting Jess to do too much, too soon.
"I don't know, but I'm dad-gum gonna give it a good try," Jess said as he fastened his pants closed. "There, I'm ready."
"Hey, Slim, come in here," Andy called to his brother in the kitchen.
"What're you calling him for? I can do it on my own," Jess tried to pull himself upright but tottering more than he liked, he kept his backside on the bed just as Slim walked through the bedroom door. "All right, I reckon I do need some help, just give me another minute."
"Whatever you say, Jess," Andy said, holding back a tickle of laughter.
"Ok, let's try it again," Jess put his feet on the ground and looked up at Andy who stepped closer to his side. "By the way, ain't you supposed to be back in school by now? They didn't kick you out 'cause you got hurt did they? If they did, they're gonna get a strongly worded letter from me, or at least, using words that I can spell anyway."
"Don't worry Jess," Andy said as he helped Jess to stand. "I'm going to go back to school. I don't think they'd kick me out since Slim has already paid for this term, and besides, for the same reason, I don't think Slim would let me not go back."
"Jonesy sent a telegram last night confirming that Andy will just go back a month later than scheduled," Slim further explained as he held out a steadying hand when Jess wobbled as he got to his feet. "He'll be behind some of his classmates, but this boy has done a lot of growing up recently, so I know he'll catch up quick."
"I'll probably have to keep going to classes through next summer to make up for what I missed, so I don't know when I'll get to come back home, though."
"We'll always be here when you do, Andy," Slim said with a smile.
"Yep," Jess nodded, taking his first step, followed by another and then two more without the aid of any helping hands. "And see that, Andy, I can do it, so I reckon I'll still be able to race you to the kitchen, at least, maybe in another day or two."
"See Jess, what'd I tell you? Nothing can hold you down," Slim said, reaching out to give Jess a friendly slap to his back.
Jess gave Slim an odd glance, not knowing when those words had been spoken, but they were as true as the genuine amount of love that radiated through the room. There was nothing that could chain Jess' spirit. An outlaw had tried, the shackles had tried, and the desert had tried the hardest of all, but they could never win. Victory resided over these things because of what resided in the heart.
