Chapter Ten
"Wagon's ho!"
The bellowing call and the wagon I was in going into motion made the intense pain in my middle return, seven times over. I felt every wave of them wash over me, not bringing back the green-cheeked nausea with it, but this type of hurt coulda only been labeled as sadness. Wanting outta that prairie schooner like I did, I coulda fought Doc Kelly's orders before the wheels started to roll, but since I'd been stripped of my gun before the operation, I didn't have much of an advantage. Besides, I was kinda weak, not really in the prime shape for fist throwing. My choice being made for me, I stayed on my back when the doctor maneuvered to the front seat to slap the reins and through the partially open flap of the canvas, I watched as we were getting farther away from Laramie. And Slim.
The boss of the train said during our introductions that he'd send one of his scouts to the next town to send a wire to Laramie, but I couldn't hold onto that as a promise that Slim's grief over my loss was about to end. I'd heard enough tales told about wagon trains that unforeseen circumstances often changed plans, sometimes only a minute after those very plans had been made. No, I had to come to grips that Slim was gonna be mourning me for some time before I could get back on my feet. And how far toward California I'd be then, I didn't wanna even think about.
During my second afternoon of wheel turning, the sun hadn't even been able to start its downward dip when it was blotted out by clouds. Being curious when the light went out, I snuck toward the rear flap and peeked through the opening, the billowy blackness proving that a group of storms were on their way. There went the opportunity for Slim to get wired. No one would be out riding in the type of mess the wagons were about to face. From my position, I got to view the first flash of lightning, the wait not long before the rumble followed, but it was the wind that had a harsher slam into my ears.
"Get back in bed," Doctor Kelly said gruffly, and I expected to see him crawling over the seat to reprimand me further, but he was still in command of the horses.
Dad-gum. That was just what I didn't need. Someone that could see me bending the rules without even turning his head. Oh well. Just because he knew I was up didn't mean I had to obey. Besides, a storm was more than brewing and I was half naked. Surely my doctor wouldn't want me to catch my death of cold. I found my shirt draped over a trunk and slid into its sleeves, the buttons being halfway up when the next gust of wind made the wagon shake. Crawling back to the opening, I looked out just in time to see a bolt of lightning ignite a tree, the explosion of wood silenced by the roaring thunder. This wasn't gonna be no gentle storm.
"I thought I told you to get back in bed," Kelly said, and I knew this time he was aiming for me, for the wagon had stopped rolling, along with the rest of the train.
"So? You think I can just sit still in a storm?"
"The lightning's the same if you watch it or don't."
"True, but I think I'll watch it," I said, my face getting lit up with the next zigzag of light that flashed outta the sky, but that wasn't the only thing that was heading toward earth with a powerful punch. "Here comes the rain. I reckon we're gonna be stuck here awhile."
We were. The thunderstorms kept coming for two straight days. The ground was so mucky that every step that went past the wagon was done in a loud slurp in and out of the mud. It didn't take me long to become familiar with a certain stride, and I turned my head toward the front of the wagon, for the plop of Kelly's feet were coming now. I'd graduated from water to broth the previous evening, but by the scent that was coming with him, I figured I was gonna gain some more ground.
"Mrs. Nolan had some stew cooking and I thought it was time that you could take some of it in," he said, and I reached for the bowl before he was halfway into the open flap.
"Dad-gum, it's only potatoes," I complained with a frown, but my nose was sure dipping low to the steamy center.
"But they were cooked with beef so the flavor should be there," Kelly said, handing me a spoon. "Don't drain it in one gulp."
"Thanks," I answered, but I reckon we both knew my reply held no promises. It mighta been only some lumpy potatoes, browned by some liquid cow, but it tasted like I'd just stuck a juicy rib between my teeth. "Thank Mrs. Nolan for me too."
"You could do that yourself in a day or two," Kelly said, and I noted the expression on his face wasn't its usual mixture of sternness and mirth.
"We gonna be stuck here that much longer?" I asked, not showing my best manners as I ran my finger along the edge of the empty bowl and plopped the tip into my mouth.
"Yeah." The reply came on the tail end of a sigh. "The Wagon Master said the ground's too muddy for travel. He'll assess it again tomorrow, but we're likely to still be here the next day too. Better lie down and see how your stomach handles the digestion."
I'd been up for too long anyway, and since I was kinda curious about what my gut was gonna do with the change of food, I obeyed the order and went to bed. Kelly watched me until I pulled the blanket up to my middle and then he disappeared, his splash over the ground dimming as he met up with his fellow travelers. Considering my doctor's frown was reserved for something else other than me, I figured I musta been the only one among them that held no complaint at the turn of events that the storms had brought. The rest of the wagon train mighta been grumbling back and forth, but not rolling westward didn't bother me. I wasn't heading for California anyway. My life was waiting for me back in Wyoming.
I awoke to discover that the damp feeling in the air was even more intense, as were the tempers around camp. The scent of coffee and rain mingling together meant that I'd have nothing but brew for breakfast, which coulda given me my own sour attitude to gnaw on, but I was too blamed happy that I'd gone through the night without a single gurgle in my stomach. I was making roads to getting better. But the clap of thunder I heard in the distance told me that the roads outside were getting worse.
Doctor Kelly leaned in with the coffee, not nearly warm enough to create steam, but it was coffee, and I had the whole cup drained in two swallows. My life-saver wasn't there for more than to make sure I hadn't opened my wound up, as he was back out the wagon to be on guard duty after a single press into my belly. With the exception of a coupla old men and kids, I was the only man not assigned to some watchful position on the train. Not only did the rain make for a several day delay, it also made an idle wagon train vulnerable to the unsavory types that roamed the wilderness. And that included Indians. All I'd needed was one chat with Kelly to know that we weren't far from hostile territory. But considering I'd done my share of getting around and gained the expertise that went with it, I was more concerned about the men that prowled around solo.
"Rider coming in!" The shout musta made every man's backbone stiffen, for long before I heard the approaching plod, I heard the distinct sound of a line of hammers being pulled back. Mine wasn't stuck to my hip yet, but I knew where Kelly'd stashed it. If I sensed that the threat was more than just someone's words, I could easily have my weapon stuck to my palm.
Wanting to get a glimpse out, I crawled to the back of the wagon, but my hand couldn't quite reach the opening when the rider was forced to stop, the sound pinpointed to being just beyond the wagon in front of the one I was in. Angry tones were obvious, and I reckon most of them were being tossed from the wagon's side of things, and with the heated change in the air, my finger began to itch for action. I leaned back toward the center of the wagon and propped open a medicine crate and pulled out my iron, but my finger wouldn't rest against the hammer before my back went straight. There was another burst of anger coming from another man, and I knew the voice as well as I knew my own.
Since my surgery, I hadn't been on my feet, but I was outta that wagon in a single leap, my hand needing to go to my bandaged stomach the moment I landed, but even if the searing pain made a sudden return, I wasn't gonna go to my knees. Walking through the mud, I used the side of the doctor's wagon for my support, being aided even further by trudging through a path Kelly'd already made. When I got to the rear of the next wagon, the melee was in full view, but I couldn't see the one that was stuck in the center. But I heard him. Dad-gum, though, they weren't giving him much of a chance to talk, and I was sure I heard a fist pop into flesh.
Taking a stout step away from the wagon, to keep myself from being shaky, my foot slid into its next position, which put me closer to the edge of the fray. Knowing my voice would mean nothing to an angry and fearful bunch, I pointed my gun into the air and split the raindrops with a single bullet. Some of the guns turned toward me, but it was every head spinning in my direction that proved I'd gotten their attention, yet there was only one that I was seeking.
"Slim!" I shouted when I saw a tall frame I woulda recognized anywhere.
"Jess!" Slim pushed his way through the crowd, and when he was within an arm's reach, I met him with an outstretched hand, but it was his that clamped first, resting firmly onto each of my shoulders. "You're alive!"
"I am," I replied, my grin matching his, but Slim's was wearing confusion as well as joy. "It's a long story, Pard, but I'm gonna be fine. If you got any doubts, Doctor Kelly's right over there to tell you the same."
"That's the greatest news that's ever entered my ears, Jess." Slim blinked his eyes a coupla times and I reckon I had to do the same. It seemed kinda impossible to see my partner standing in front of me, but I didn't have to add up too many big numbers to figure out what the answer would end up being.
"You followed after me," I said, kinda gritty, kinda soft, all in the same instant.
"I'm sorry, Jess," Slim answered, briefly shaking his head before his eyes reattached to mine. "I couldn't comply with your request to leave you alone. I had to find you."
"How'd you do it?" I asked, not even sure I coulda retraced my own steps if I'd been in my right mind from day one that I'd left the ranch.
"It wasn't easy. I was able to trail you into Colorado, but I wound up lost along a creek. I decided to head west for awhile, but not finding a trace, I was about to give up when I got sidelined by the storms. I holed up in a cave, but when I realized the rain wasn't going to let up anytime soon, I decided I'd take one last pass through those hills over there and then head home when I saw the wagon train down here. I didn't expect to find you in it, or almost get into a fight either."
"The crew's a bit jumpy being idled here so long," I said, unable to resist the urge to give my partner a tease. "'Sides, you look kinda like a wily hombre. When was the last time you shaved?"
"The day you rode out," Slim answered, giving the fur on his chin a rub, and just by the look that washed under his beard, I knew there was gonna be a catch in his throat. "It was hard, Jess. You… you were gone."
"I ain't anymore, Pard," I said, my arm reaching out to wrap around Slim's shoulder. "I reckon we got a lot to talk about, but the good thing is, we gotta lotta time to do it in."
It took a fair amount of convincing that I didn't need a professional watching over me anymore, but Doc Kelly did relent when the wagons were ready to roll again, and I was left in Slim's care. We were kinda stuck for awhile, considering Slim only had his mount, but once I could sit a saddle, we doubled up until we reached a town, and from there I rode the stage home while Slim kept within a close range on his horse.
I had a lotta emotions running through my veins when I stepped foot on Sherman soil again. Gratitude, that was high up on the list, and there was a good piece of excitement bubbling up and over, but I reckon it was the contentment that made me stand still and take everything in. I wanted the feeling of my return to seep in slowly, and the embrace of coming home came so subtly it was as if I hadn't even left it. But I knew where'd I'd been, I knew what I'd gone through, and I could continue onward as a better man than I'd been before. I was ready for it. Dad-gum. I was ready for it even then.
Knowing that he was studying me and working around his own thoughts, I turned to look at Slim and gave a simple smile. "Come on, Pard. Let's get to work."
.:.
Author's Note: (bear with me, it's long)
First of all, I sped up the timeline when doctors learned that the body could survive without a gallbladder to fit my story. It was first discovered in the late 1700's that animals could survive without a gallbladder, but it wasn't until the 1880's that a German doctor made the attempt to relieve a patient that had been suffering for 16 years with the disease. By the 1890's it was standard procedure to remove the gallbladder if it was diseased. I figured if a doctor in the 1700's learned about animals living while being minus a gallbladder, someone that didn't make it into the history books could have first performed it on a human in New York in the 1870's for Doctor Kelly to learn of it! I used some personal experience with what I put Jess through. Several years ago, I suffered with gallbladder disease for 8 months, although it was off and on enough in the early months that I didn't go to the doctor until the latter portion of that time. Once diagnosed, though, I wasn't scheduled for surgery until over a month later! So by that time, I could eat literally nothing but plain, baked potatoes, jello and white bread without getting violently ill.
And now for the part that's going to be hard to write. This story ran along a very personal parallel with real life with me, but I didn't know about it when it first begun. The idea for this story came to me in mid-November, and because it hit me so fast, not wanting to lose the muse I began writing it then, even though I was up to my ears in "Nothing to Lose". I was also planning to write a Christmas story, and since that one needed an actual deadline, I knew it would wind up with precedence, yet I continued to tinker with "Thirty Days". And then came a difficult day. I found a lump on one of my cats. I know there are only a few of my readers that know a little of my personal life, I do have a small write up in my profile, but to make that part short, I am single, no kids, and very little outside life, so my cats aren't just pets, they are my babies. I knew as soon as I touched it that it couldn't be good, because Duke was also losing weight. It was confirmed in early December that he had cancer. So here I am, writing a story about a disease that is going to take Jess' life, and my cat has just been diagnosed the same (different disease, but death would be the same outcome). I have never abandoned a story, and so I thought, I'm going to write this thing really fast, because if my cat passes before I finish it, there's no way I can go back to it, because it'll be too painful to write. But, I hadn't finished "In Solemn Stillness" yet. I had to make a choice, which story would get my attention, and because of Christmas being so close, I set aside "Thirty Days". When I finally opened the document back up, my cat had visited an oncologist and his doctor gave me hope that we had more time together than I initially thought. And so, since one of the things I always tell anyone seeking advice on writing is to never rush a story, even though it was still a high priority to finish it before he passed, I changed my thoughts on hurrying through this one and take my time. Considering what the doctor had said, surely, Duke and I had more time and grief wasn't going to meet me before I wrote the last word. I almost made it. Cancer is a hateful disease and can strike even when things are looking up. Duke passed on January 5th, a short battle, but a valiant one. And it was almost thirty days exactly from his diagnosis, like a title that had been chosen in November before I ever knew what was to come. This was my written story happening in real life, but without the happy ending. I don't plan on ever writing an actual death story. I might tease you and scare you some, but I can't bury our heroes. Life, unfortunately, doesn't have what our characters get to enjoy. It's real. It's hard. It hurts. And loved ones die. It's probably true that I'll never be able to read through this one again now that it's published as it has some bad memories wrapped up in it, but I couldn't leave it unfinished. My heartache, tears and grief are written throughout these pages, from the emotions that came from the diagnosis all the way to the end. Like I often do at the conclusion of a note, I'm not going to say I hope that you enjoy this story, but if you're like me and need some healing, I hope that this story gives you a step in the right direction of recovery. CW