It's here! New TWD season. I'm still missing Merle but he lives on in my imagination. Even if he were protecting his brother he would have still never gone to the governor without backup like that. Michonne would have followed him, especially had she run into Daryl on the road. So many ways he would have not died. I still get "what would Merle do in this moment" when I watch the show. I'm sure cannon Daryl hears Merle in his head. I'm sure Merle's ghost is not too far behind. I can't see him going to the other side before Daryl did. I see Daryl as a guy who lives so much in his head that he will never tell others that Merle is still with him in spirit (Rick/Lori crazytown not a good comparison). By the way AMC owns the characters blah blah blah. Review review review And with no further ado go have fun. Happywalking dead day
Hershel POV:
I come back from working in the gardens and I'm told that my favorite and most aggravating patient was looking for me and is now on watch in the tower. I have a bad feeling that he has most likely pulled his stitches out; maybe ripping through his previously scarred skin by climbing up into the tower with his brother. I can appreciate his wanting to get back to his "normal" functioning self as soon as possible; but if he doesn't take it somewhat easy he is going to reopen up his wounds and maybe rebreak some of his healing bones. Climbing up into the tower is a poor choice of activity to rehab his battered body. I do understand his wanting some alone time with his brother, but I would think walking the grounds, trapping, maybe checking for walkers in the other cell blocks would be sufficient.
I stretch and feel the resulting twinges in my leg stump and I think back on how stubborn I was while I was healing and how frustrated I was at my limitation before my prosthetic was found on a run. I can imagine that Merle would feel moreso being a passionate bullheaded man who always had to do things on his terms. I could only imagine what it might feel like had I suffered a similar injury on my"good foot". He was already weakened by the loss of his hand, his dominant hand at that. Now he has to acclimate to the mutilation of his sound hand and adjust to living in this world where weakness often results in a premature and unpleasant end. I step into the shadow of the tower and see Daryl on watch and Merle leaning on the tower as lookout, backing up his brother as he probably always had. I feel the warmth of the sun caressing my back, diminished from the intensity of the summer, now almost pleasant. I consider how the nights are starting to hold the promise of the approaching fall weather. I catch Merle's eye from up in the tower.
"I need to change your dressing son, a little bird told me you were looking for me earlier".
"Well here I am old man, ya done found me. Funny I don't think ya gimped all the way out here to talk ta me bout my dressings. Ya know I was gonna find ya later. What's on yer mind"?
"Do you really think I'm going to stand out here and shout at you? When you come down later you can find me. I'm going to be teaching Skya a few techniques, and a bit more about herbal remedies."
"Herbal remedies! Hah that'll be tha day. Can't even find some decent herb, but that's all right maybe its better I've got a clean head about me. Still I could use some of the gentle stuff, set my bones at ease, help my stumps ta settle."
Merle shakes his head grinning while I can almost see the smoke pouring out of Daryl's ears.
Daryl looks at him whispering something at him.
"Ha! HAHAHA. Would a loved ta see them stoned. Officer fucking friendly and college boy! Oh ma gawd wish I was a fly on the wall that day. Where was I? Hibernating like a fucking bear I bet. Damn! I missed some good shit being unconscious and all."
I think back three weeks earlier when Glen was helping Tyreese change a toilet's malfunctioning plumbing, finding a generous amount of marijuana. He was kind enough to give me most of it to ease people's pain but Glen had kept some of it for a "finder's fee". Glen and Rick had apparently gotten stoned together and annoyed Daryl to the point of fisticuffs. There is more to the story because since then they have been acting very apologetic around him and Merle; moreso than ever before. Something tells me that things were aired out and maybe the three will come to terms with their mutual dislike and be able to work beyond it.
"You know where to find me, Merle, I'll be waiting, don't take too long and be careful coming back down."
"Humph" (he snorts in my general direction before turning back to his brother)
I hear the diminished sounds of brotherly bickering fade as I walk back into the main cell block, smiling to myself thinking how both the brothers seem more balanced than I have ever seen them. Merle is looking healthier and beginning to gain some of his weight back. The last two weeks have seen him change from nearly skeletal and frail, back to thin but managing. His healing also has taken an upswing especially being able to close his exit wound and hopefully keep it that way. The last few days since I put in the stitches have seen him become almost feverishly active trying to gain back 6 weeks of healing time instantly and simultaneously. He seems to be trying to prove to all (especially himself) that he is not diminished when he so plainly is.
I make my way back to my cell, and find Skya pouring over my medical texts found in the prison infirmary; she looks up with a smile quirking her features.
"Was I right? The idiot climbed into the tower didn't he? He doesn't know what to do with himself. He's not healed yet but he is healthy enough to be mobile and needs to prove to himself that he is still the tough guy he used to be,"
I chuckle, "Except he's not. He has a mess of healing bones and the worst puncture wound I've ever seen. His skin is pretty delicate with all the previous scarring. It's not supple at all & may tear if he falls while climbing back down."
I sit on my cot rubbing my weaker knee absently thinking, shaking my head gently, chuckling to myself.
"Of all the things I thought I never would do; being a surgeon for humans with the medical supplies akin to that of the Civil War era. Then add to it having to serve as doctor to a bunch of stubborn civilians turned unwilling soldiers during the end of days"
Skya stand up and stretches, crosses a step or two that the tiny cell allows her, puts her hands on her hips leaning sarcastically over me. "Hershel, how can you begin to guess that your precious bible could have possibly meant this when it described the resurrection of the faithful? It sounds like the worst ever practical joke in the history of mankind".
"Skya your lack of understanding of the Bible when you are so bright in so many ways is mystifying to me. Didn't your parents ever take you to church?"
I can't even begin to understand how she is so ignorant of the Holy Bible. She is so bright in so many other ways but has always looked completely lost when Merle and I conversed by trading biblical quotes. She often was silent during the extensive time that the three of us spent on his dressing changes; packing & repacking his exit wound to his back and treating the nasty infection that resulted from the bite wound that amputated his fingers.
"Skya what are you reading up on now? And do you have any questions?"
"Yeah but not maybe what you expect. How can you still have faith after all you have lost, that God is more than a prankster or worse a vengeful god trying to get back at us for being creatures of our nature"
I look up into her blue eyes swimming in tears, as her face crumples in the way a little girl's would...
"Shh, what's wrong, Skya. Come here" (I pat the cot next to me & she sits, head in hands long hair masking her face, shoulders shaking as she tried to hold back her sobs)
I turn her to me pulling her into my chest and I hold her as she sobs, sniffling, patting her soft silky hair, for all the world feeling in my arms as one of my daughters.
"What's wrong sweetheart? Just let it out honey, whatever it is, I can only help if I know what's bothering you". (The poor girl is just shaking all over crying as if her heart was breaking. I can only imagine that this is stored up from the previous year, having to be strong for too long without any real release)
She sits up wiping her face pushing her tear wet hair out of the way, sniffling & wiping her nose on the hem of her shirt.
"Oh for god sake, I don't even know. It just was like a dam bursting, you reminded me of my father just then. I missed him and how I always felt safe with him more than anybody else in my life. He died so long ago when I was barely an adult. I forgot what it's like to have someone else help me feel safe"
"How old were you sweetheart? You were pretty young when you lost him weren't you. Is that when you lost your faith?
"Oh no Hershel, I wasn't raised like you were. My parents taught me about lots of religions, to help me make a decision that worked for me. They didn't want me to feel forced into a religion. They took me to church for an education not as a believer. No shock that none of it stuck"
"I guess Im crying because I have been strong for everyone but me. I haven't had anyone being strong for me since I was 21; even before I was shot while I was living in New York City. I healed on my own while I lived in the Bronx. My insurance took care of me but I was alone; my family was so scattered after my father died. You see he was the glue in our family. We all became unstuck after he was gone. Then 15 years later when I got married while I lived in Ohio. I didn't realize that my husband was a time bomb of drug abuse and insanity.
My husband had just finished a drug rehab program for his cocaine addiction because he was self medicating his schizoaffective disorder. He was seeing Norse gods in Wal-Mart and had to be forcibly committed. It blew up in my face shortly before the world ended, He finally got help he needed the year before the virus struck. We were vacationing with his family in Georgia when this all started. He was due to start a new job when the virus hit and the airports shut down. We were stranded, I couldn't drive hundreds of miles alone with kids after he and my in-laws were all killed and I had to put them down. Since then it was a blur. I was existing for my kids and numb within myself"
"Honey, I had no idea that this started for you so long before it did for everyone else. You've been on your own since you were 21. And you were shot not much after that?"
Yeah, suffice it to say really really long story. I'll give you the short and to the point version. I was shot in central park in New York City when I lived there and I was a reptile biologist at the zoo, taking my masters in zoology at Fordham University. I was studying the temperature of crocodilians on exhibit and how their development from juveniles into adults may be stunted. I was hoping to get them to breed as they matured and seeing if the air temperature delayed their maturation. You know that the temperature of crocodilian eggs determines their gender. I was wondering if it affected the maturation of crocodilians in northern zoos."
I blinked; I couldn't be more stunned about what she had been studying. Fascinating study. Brilliant girl. What had changed that potential I wondered?
"So my head injury from falling when I got shot and nearly bled out ended my ability to work with reptiles inside the exhibits. Too dangerous for someone who is half deaf and has a slow reaction time due to a head injury. I gave my research to my partner and went on to other possibilities. We still got published and I was given credit but I didn't finish my degree".
"I went back to Ohio and worked on blood samples for awhile in a research lab, so I understand retroviruses. I think that is what this is the way it changes our genetics and mutates us after we die. It really couldn't be anything else, but it's a manufactured virus, it has too many perfect elements. It's a perfect storm of virus potential".
"Then I got bored and retrained into being an occupational therapist, I was really good at it but had to always fight against the cognitive residual of my head injury, I hopped from job to job because my managers never could be empathetic about my attention span problems and my inability to multitask especially with the damn documentation. I know more than most what it feels like to rehab from a physical and cognitive disability. Now my disability is invisible and that is the hardest type for others to understand. Mostly they just think you're lazy and trying to take advantage of the system. I finally got my masters of occupational therapy though".
I'm stunned, I knew she has some odd character quirks, but now it fits with what I have noticed about her."Skya honey you've had to be so strong for so long; for your husband, for your kids and while you healed yourself and rediscovered how to cope. I'm amazed how well you bounced back from that. You are an amazing girl you know; I would have never guessed any of that except to some extent the hearing loss. That I figured out on my own, so minor compared to an old gimpy cripple like me".
"Shit girl I had no idea; why the hell didn't you tell me. Now I know why we get along: you have nearly as fucked up a past as yer handsome buddy ol' Merle. Ahh, goddamn Darlyina, ya think you could be any rougher, ya shit head!" (I don't know but I have a feeling someone just got kicked)
I look up to the gratuitous amount of profanity and see Merle leaning on the wall listening, supported by his brother, bleeding freely from his right shoulder, pale and shaky.
"I fucked up. Damn I was stupid climbing up there. I lost my grip on tha damn ladder on the way down because of my fucking finger stumps getting in tha' way when I was climbin'. Fell inta something sharp at the bottom, hit my goddamn right shoulder. Think it's just a flesh wound but damn if it ain't the last thing I need when I'm just startin' to use ma right arm again".
"Merle I think I've told you before about your profanity especially in my cell. Now I'm going to be nice and not kick you out when you so plainly are in need of attention, but I'll thank you to curb your profanity if you please"
I smile at the wretched picture of the miserable man in front of me, but I still mean him to clean up his act around me and have some respect around Skya. I also wonder how much he heard of her very vulnerable but amazing history.
"Skya I think you can handle this while I talk to this foolish idiot's brother. Outside if you please Daryl"
She quickly wipes her eyes and looks for some sutures and hopefully some remaining dressings. She smiles at Merle and takes his hand in hers squeezing his remaining fingers gently as he sighs settling again into my bed for another round of medical treatments.
"Ya okay Juicy? Shit girl what was that for?" I see her wry look as she prods his wound a little too roughly (I know how she hates that sexually explicit nickname that he gives her, so plainly liking her reaction). " Heeey sweetness, whys yer face leaking, yer gonna drip freckles all over tha' damn place". She shakes her head and snorts smirking at the ridiculous mental image that he created.
I take the idiot's brother for a walk to talk some sense into him and let him know how limited his brother might realistically continue to be. How he needs to help him slow down and not needlessly risk himself. I look Daryl over as I limp beside him, taking in his stress and his slight moisture about the eyes.
"Son your brother needs to slow down and heal in his own time. He is strong as the sea" but he doesn't know how to let others help him. I think he is getting better at being around people and whatever you did to Rick and Glen a couple of weeks ago seems to have broken up the resentment that the group held against him"
Daryl stops, his eyes darkening with remembered anger.
"Those idiots got stoned and had a bet on the stupid assumption that Merle caused my scars, but it wasn't him. He protected me and was beaten in my place over and over until he finally couldn't take it no more and almost killed our Father. Is that what you wanna know. Any other assumptions you people wanna get outta tha way while yer at it. How about treatin' my brother like anyone else, lettin' him heal in peace like he deserves".
"Daryl I didn't know they said that. They were wrong and it wasn't any of their business. We are all equal here. I'm ashamed that Glen acted that way and I'm shocked that Rick said that. Son I've always liked and respected your brother. I think he is one of those men that has miles of depth under the surface of what you see in his eyes. I just wanted to say that I'm pleased at his progress as a patient and as a person learning to fit better with the group. Skya I think is being a good friend to him and he is to her. I think they are more alike than you realize. Let me tell you a little about what you might have overheard just now . . ."
Authors note. Skya is channeling a bit from my past. I was a zookeeper for reptiles once upon a time. A student from the university used to spend hours watching my critters as she was doing her thesis on their behavior. Incidentally, crocodilians and dragon lizards in northern zoos have to be watched carefully for burns from heating up too much under heat lamps and on hot rocks, but not registering it due the colder ambient temperature. I actually worked with a horribly scarred animal who had literally cooked his back before he came to our zoo. He was the biggest jerk and the smallest dragon lizard we had. Also invisible disabilities such as residual head injuries and conditions like ADHD are tougher in a way because you look average but often are labeled as "lazy" because no one sees the struggle. I do work as a therapist and I see this all the time in my patients. I stopped being a zookeeper because of catastrophic allergies to some of the stuff I needed to use with the animals.
