Steve woke up disoriented and feeling hung over. For several minutes he lay still and tried to remember where he was. Somewhere in the distance he could here what sounded like chickens clucking and a dog barking. Events from the day before began flashing through his brain and he suddenly became aware of a few things that he couldn't explain. Number one, he was no longer tied up in the back seat of the old station wagon. Number two, he was in a bed and no longer dressed in his own clothes. He seemed to be sporting some kind of long nightshirt that was as soft as a cotton ball against his skin. The third, and last thing he noticed, and this gave him cause for concern, was an urgent call of nature on his bladder.
Throwing his legs over the side of the bed he stood up with the idea of looking for the facilities. After he took care of his need for the bathroom he was going to have a few words with his 'Host and Hostess.' As soon as he had become vertical however, a severe wave of dizziness caused him to sink back on the bed and he grabbed onto the headboard for support.
Steve rode out the dizziness and once again tried to stand. While waiting for his legs and head to adjust to his new position he took a quick look around the room.
It was small with only one window by the side of his bed. A dresser was on the opposite side next to where he stood. It looked like an antique with a small mirror attached to the wall over it. On the other wall by the foot of the bed stood an old chefarobe. A stand holding a pitcher and bowl claimed the farthermost corner of the room with another small mirror hanging over it. Towels hung from a bar at the side and a cake of white soap lay next to the bowl. An old threadbare rug lay on the floor. Where it once boasted of a rich red rose pattern, it now only offered brown patches reminding him of the last faded petals of summer. Steve felt like he had stepped back in time. The room was small and simple but held a certain old charm.
After taking a tentative step to see if he could walk without falling over, Steve made his way to the door. He eased it open carefully listening for sounds of anyone who might be up. He doubted it because, according to his watch, it was only 5:30 in the morning. Not hearing anything he opened the door wider and gingerly stepped out into a hallway.
Unsure which way to turn he decided to check on the door closest on his left. It proved to be another bedroom larger than the one he had just come from. Even though it seemed to be unoccupied at this time it was obvious that some one was using the room. Clothes and other personal items were scattered around giving it a very lived in feel.
Not seeing what he really needed most at the moment he headed on down the hall staying close to the wall and walking slowly. This was partly for support as he was still feeling slightly hung over and also because he wanted to be careful not to run into someone suddenly surprising both him and them.
He almost got to the end of the hall when he smelled something that reminded him that he had not had a chance at lunch or dinner yesterday. The sound of bacon and eggs sizzling in a pan mixed with the smell of coffee brewing made his stomach rumble and his mouth water. Not sure of what to expect he continued to slowly make his way toward the kitchen. He could hear a woman humming a hymn that he recognized to be "Amazing Grace." This brought back memories of his own Grandmother singing to herself as she prepared meals for her family. He stood out side the door of the kitchen for a minute just listening to the sweet notes coming from the lady he remembered as Emma.
Steve knew he couldn't just stand there any longer as his need for a bathroom started to take on an alarming new urgency. He knocked lightly on the doorframe in hopes that he wouldn't startle her.
She looked up and smiled at the young man who looked so sweet in his flannel nightshirt and at the sleepy way that a boy looks when he first gets up in the morning. 'He sure does remind me of Robbie' Emma thought to herself. "Did you sleep well?"
"I guess so. I don't remember anything except the back seat of your car. I'm not sure I understand how you got me in the house by yourself. Is there anyone else besides you and your husband here?" Steve was fishing for any information that would give him some idea about what he was up against.
"Goodness no. Me and Papa don't need anyone else to help out here. We don't do much farmin' anymore since my boy died. We just keep a couple of cows for milkin' and we got chickens. The only thing we grow from the soil now is just our garden vegetables. Don't much need anythin' else. Are you hungry?" She asked smiling up at him.
"I really need a bathroom at the moment. Where would it be?" Steve was almost at the point where if he waited any longer he would be dancing around like a kid who had waited to long.
"Just go out this door and walk down the path. It's back behind those trees over there. You better take this with you." She handed Steve a roll of toilet paper and pointed him towards the door.
At first Steve thought she didn't understand what he had asked for. Then it suddenly dawned on him that they only had an outhouse. He had heard of them before but he had never seen one in his life. Steve really didn't want to see this one either. He felt a firm hand on his shoulder as Emma pushed him towards the back door saying. "From the look on your face you better hurry on over there before we have a mess in this floor. Now scoot."
Steve stumbled out the door and headed to where Emma had pointed. Once he got the door open he nearly passed out. This could not be real. People just didn't live like this anymore, or did they? Not having much choice, he stepped carefully inside and latched the door behind him. No way could he ever let Jesse find out about this whole thing. He would have to kill the little termite in order to shut him up once he got started. He could just hear the jokes now. It was going to be a nightmare.
DM
Isaiah made his way into the kitchen ready to wash up for breakfast. "Has Sleeping Beauty woke up yet? You sure can tell he's a city kid. Sleepin' the best part of the day away. He's gonna have to get use to gettin' up and gettin' his chores done around here and there ain't no time like the present." With that Isaiah started towards the hall that led to Steve's bedroom.
"Just hold on. That child ain't in there. He got up a few minutes ago and went to the privy. Now just get off his case. He ain't done nothin' to you. Why are you all over that boy?" Emma stood in front of Isaiah glaring at him with her hands on her hips.
Isaiah side-stepped her and made for the washstand to clean off some of the grime from his morning work. The old man had already fed the chickens and milked the cows. He had drawn water from the well filling the bucket on the back porch. Isaiah still had plenty of chores ahead of him and he figured that the boy could help out some. After all he seemed healthy and strong enough.
"I ain't got nothin' against him. But I don't like the way you been lookin' at him either." Isaiah turned and faced his wife with a look of pain. He knew what he was about to say next was going to hurt her but it needed to be said. "He ain't Robbie, Mama. Robbie's gone. We can't bring him back and that boy out there can't take his place."
"You hush up old man. I know he ain't Robbie. But he don't need you harpin' on him either. The boy wasn't raised on a place like this. He doesn't know about farm life. You better be easy on him or I swear I'll land into you with all I got. You understand me Isaiah Robert Tanner?" Emma pulled herself up as tall as she could and glared at her husband making him back up a step.
There was no use in trying to reason with the old woman when she got her hackles up. Isaiah decided to back off and give his wife some space for the moment.
After about five minutes of scrubbing his face and arms he turned back around with the towel drying his hands. "He ain't no baby, Emma. We can't adopt him. We have to take him back, and soon. He's bound to have a mama and papa somewhere back in town who is worried sick about him right now. We can't make them worry forever. It just ain't proper. They got a right to know where their son is and that he is doin' fine. So you remember that while you go about babyin' him and gettin' all attached. He ain't ours to keep." Isaiah hung the towel back up and went to sit down at the table.
Emma just stared at her husband knowing that he was right. The cruellest thing they could do would be to let the boy's parents fret over him, wondering what had happened, but he was here now and she intended to enjoy smothering him if she wanted to. It had been a long time since she had been able to spoil her own child and she intended to take advantage of the time she had with this one. She needed to be a mother again. Even if just for a little while.
DM
When Steve stepped back into the kitchen he could tell that the two older people had apparently been quarreling about something. He had no idea about what but he felt sure that some how he had been at least part of it. He stood still for a moment not sure what to do or say. Isaiah looked away first and landed his glare on Steve motioning him to the water pitcher and bowl to wash up. Steve stepped over and took the bar of soap and began to wash his face and hands in the cool water trying to clear up some of the cobwebs that were still hanging in his brain. Once he had dried off he turned and asked about his clothes.
"You can't wear those clothes to work on the farm. They're too nice. I'll get some of Robbie's old things out of the cupboard for you after you eat your breakfast. Now get over here and sit down." Emma ushered Steve over to a chair and sat him opposite Isaiah.
"You know it's still not too late to give yourself up. I could help if you would just let me." Steve pleaded with the couple.
"The only help you're gonna give me, Son is a hand fixin' that fence over there by the creek. You better eat up cause we don't have lunch until high noon." Isaiah never looked up from his plate as he shoveled his food into his mouth.
"Here you go. Now you be sure and drink all of that milk. It's good for you. I already buttered you a couple of biscuits. I made this jelly myself. You go ahead and try it." Emma fussed around Steve during the whole breakfast making sure that he had plenty to eat.
When Steve went to drink the milk there was something different about it. It seemed a little thicker and creamier than the milk he was use to getting at home.
Isaiah noticed the look on his face and just grunted out. "It ain't no store bought milk, boy. That came straight from my cows out there. Now hurry and finish up. We got lots of chores waitin' on us.
Isaiah stood up and without another word he marched out the back door. It wasn't that he had anything against the boy, but just like Emma he was missing his own son and here was this kid about the same age as his Robbie would be. It was hard not to get attached to him but as he said to Emma he had to go back soon.
"Don't mind him. He don't really mean to be so rough. It's just his way. Now you better finish up your breakfast. I hope you don't mind but I did look in your wallet and I saw that your name is Steve. I think that is real nice. Is that what your mamma and papa call you?" Emma sat across from Steve and looked at him thinking how quickly she was becoming attached to him.
Swallowing a mouth full of eggs, Steve answered while feeling a little uncomfortable about the way she seemed to be looking at him. "My full name is Steven Michael. I don't hear that much unless I'm in trouble. Sometimes I hear it more than I want to. Everybody just calls me Steve for the most part."
Steve finished eating his breakfast and helped to stack the dishes in the dishpan. The older lady led him to the bedroom where he had woken up and indicated that he should sit down while she retrieved clothes for him to wear while he worked with Isaiah.
Emma opened the dresser drawers and pulled out a clean pair of shorts and socks for Steve. She then went over to the Chefarobe and took out a pair of overalls and a plaid shirt. "Here you go. I believe these will fit you just fine. They might be a little big but not enough to notice. They belonged to my son Robbie. He's gone now." She placed the clothes on the bed next to where Steve was sitting and gently caressed the collar of the shirt lost in a memory.
"Ms. Emma?" Steve had to call her twice to get her attention. "Ms. Emma."
Emma suddenly looked up from the shirt and directly into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. "Yes? Did you say somethin'?"
"I was just wondering what happened to your son, Ma'am?" Steve asked her with a gentleness that surprised even him.
"My Robbie was in Viet Nam." Emma looked out the window for a moment and gathered herself before she continued. Turning back to Steve she smiled at him and continued.
"He was just two months away from finishin' his time over there. He was goin' to come home to me and his Papa. Then one night they was hit by some snipers. Several of the boys were hit. Some were even killed outright. My Robbie he went back where they were shooting and he carried out several of his friends. They told me he went back six times and picked up one of those boys and carried him to a safe spot." Once again Emma stopped and smiled at Steve. With a deep breath she continued.
"When he was heading back the last time a bullet hit him square in his back. But he never let his friend fall. He continued to carry him to that safe spot with a bullet in his back. My Robbie put a lot a store into his friendships. He wouldn't let any of his friends suffer if he could help it. He collapsed in his sergeant's arms. They say he bled to death." Emma was almost whispering at this point. "They called him a hero. I called him my baby." Steve could see the tears flowing down the soft pink cheeks of this broken hearted mother. It touched his very soul. He knew his own mother had been so scared while he had been over there himself.
Suddenly perking up a little and wiping at the tears that had fallen on her face Emma headed for the dresser. "He got a medal for what he did. They sent it to his Papa and me. I got it right over here in this drawer. Would you like to see?"
"Yes, Ma'am. I would." Steve reached for the familiar blue box that was just like the one he had hidden in a drawer back at the beach house.
I guess I should keep it shined up and out so we can see it all the time. But I just swear every time I see it, all I can think about is my boy sacrificin' himself for people I didn't even know. I can hardly stand to see it out." She reached out to take the metal and place it back into the drawer where she kept it hidden.
"I have one also. I don't care to look at it much. It just reminds me of the pain and suffering that went on over there. My dad once told me I should be proud of it. I am but I would rather not have it out, constantly reminding me how it was over there. I can still hear my friends screaming at night sometimes. I try not thinking about that time in my life. I'm sorry about your son. I would have been proud to have known him." Steve hung his head feeling a little guilty that he was here and her son was buried.
Emma seemed to sense his guilt and she placed a warm comforting hand on his shoulder. "You be proud, boy, that you made it back from that hell. I wish my Robbie could have but I would never have traded another's life for his. It was what God willed and I won't have you sittin' here feelin' bad about you being spared while my son died." Emma spoke gently but firmly.
"Come on now, Steve. It's time for you to get dressed. Isaiah wants you to help him fix that old fence up. I swear I don't know why he just don't put up a new one. I think he wants to be sure he has something to do. Here's some work boots for you." She leaned over and kissed Steve on the head as she turned to leave. It surprised Steve as well as her. It was a simple gesture but it seemed so natural. As she walked out the door of the bedroom she looked back at the young man sitting there and smiled at him. It was then that she knew he was somehow going to break her heart.