When Steve finally opened his eyes the next morning he knew he had to get moving soon. His need to walk that little path out back was getting serious. He started to roll over and sit up when all of a sudden the whole world started spinning. He moaned so loud that it sounded more like a tortured cry. He couldn't move anything on his body without it screaming back at him in agony. Steve wasn't even sure if he could sit let alone stand.
Hearing her young guest's pain, Emma was soon by his side with a very worried look on her face.
"I heard you cry out. Are you ok?" She asked
"I don't think I can get up. My arms, my legs and my back, well pretty much every muscle in my body, wants to be on hiatus at the moment. Each time I try to move they scream for me to stop. PLEASE don't say anything to Isaiah about this. He already thinks I'm a wimp any way." Steve was trying to get the courage to try and sit up again.
"Don't you worry about what that old man thinks. He pushed you too hard yesterday and he knew what he was a doin' when he done it. Besides in his needin' to show you up he had to push himself around a mite too. He groaned a bit when his feet hit the floor this mornin'. Now let me help you to sit up in the bed here." Emma reached for Steve and tugged, helping him into a sitting position.
Steve couldn't help but cry out as he threw his legs over to the floor. Every inch of his body seemed to have a complaint. He also noticed that he was wearing another nightshirt.
"You know this is getting to be a bad habit." He looked up at Emma smiling at her with his eyes.
"And what would that be young man?" She asked as she went to pull clean clothes from the dresser.
"This is the second time I have woke up wearing this night-gown thing and not even remembering how I got in bed to begin with." He grimaced as he tried to stand up so that he could take care of pressing matters.
Emma quickly reached out to steady him as he swayed slightly once he managed to actually get his bottom to vacate the side of the bed.
"You fell asleep at the table last night. Isaiah carried you to bed and we got you tucked in." She reluctantly let go of his arm as he started to walk stiffly to the door.
"I bet Isaiah didn't have any trouble walking to the outhouse this morning." Steve said grimly while making his way to the back door.
Emma chuckled as she began to set things up for him to take a hot soaking bath. Isaiah came in chuckling himself. He saw Steve making his way down the path and noticed how wobbly he seemed.
"You know I almost feel bad about what I did to that kid yesterday." He continued to chuckle as he watched Steve slowly make his way to the privy.
"Well, since your a feelin' so bad about it, why don't you go and haul that tub in here for me so I can get him a hot bath set up? He can soak some of that soreness out." She threw her husband a look of disapproval.
"You really think that boy is going to let you strip him down and put him in that bath with out a fight." Isaiah was starting to have fun at the up coming battle he felt sure was about to commence.
"I ain't too worried about it. He's so sore he won't be puttin' up much of a fight. Besides it's for his own good. Now help me move the table over to the wall so we can get that thing in here." She set about her chore wanting to at least have the first pail of hot water in the tub before the young man got back.
By the time Steve had managed to make his return to the house, Emma had his bath almost full. She was gauging the temperature with her elbow to make sure that it was tolerable to get into without scalding him.
"What's that for?" Steve looked from Emma to her husband with total confusion all over his face.
Smirking at him Isaiah readily answered. "It's for you, Boy."
Steve went into shock at Isaiah's latest revelation. "Oh no. I can't take a bath out here in the open." He backed up one step as if to make for the door.
Emma was quick and grabbed him by the arm dragging him over to the tub of steaming water. "Nonsense, Child. There ain't no one but me and Isaiah here."
Steve grabbed her hand as she began pulling at his nightshirt. "My point exactly. I don't usually take a bath in the kitchen with total strangers supervising my every move. Ouch."
Emma slapped his hand as Steve tried to hold on to his nightshirt and his dignity. "You better let go, Boy, or I'm going to find that razor strap. Now the best thing for you is to soak in a hot tub of water and then I'm going to rub you down with the liniment oil."
By this time Isaiah had joined the tug of war and Steve realized he was about to lose. In order to salvage some of his dignity he held up his hands in surrender and conceded.
"OK, OK. Just leave me alone and I will get into the water. Believe it or not I've been bathing myself for several years now. I think I can figure out how to get into this tin bucket alone. So just go away and I promise I'll climb in. Please."
"I swear I ain't never seen anyone put up such a fuss about getting' bathed. See to it he gets in there and don't let him fall when he climbs over. He ain't that steady on his feet yet." Still mumbling to herself, Emma left the room to fetch clean towels and washrags.
Steve resigned himself to the fact that Isaiah was not going to leave. If he was honest with himself he wasn't too sure he was going to be able to climb in without some assistance. The sides of the tub were so high he had trouble lifting his leg up enough to get it over without his muscles protesting with a vengeance.
After he got used to the heat from the water Steve settled down for a long soak. Actually it felt good to his sore body. He leaned back and closed his eyes letting the hot steamy water lull him into peaceful state of euphoria. He was rudely brought back to the kitchen when he felt the waters stirring. When he opened his eyes he found Emma dipping her hand in to check the temperature.
"What are you doing?" Steve jerked up straight grabbing her hand.
"For goodness sakes, Boy. Will you calm down? I was only checkin' to make sure the water was still hot enough. You act like no one ever give you a bath before."
Steve thought back to his sweet dear Mrs. Grant. What was it about older women always thinking they had to give you a bath before you died of dirt rot?
With an attitude and just enough sarcasm, Steve answered. "Oh, I have been given a bath before. I have my own personal bath fairy at home who seems to take every opportunity she can to dunk me into hot soapy water to ensure I stay germ free. Doesn't mean I enjoy it though."
"I think I like her already. She seems like someone after my own heart." Emma answered with her own brand of sarcasm as she took another pail of hot water off the stove.
After pouring the pail into the tub Emma made her way to the hall. As she started through the door she looked over her shoulder and informed Steve he had better not move. Wincing at the glare that she had given him Steve sank lower into the tub as if the water would protect him from her wrath if she got more riled up.
Isaiah sat at the kitchen table chuckling at his young guest. "You wait, Son. The worst is yet to come."
"What could be worse than this?" Steve asked grudgingly.
"She ain't hauled you out of there and bathed you down with that liniment oil yet." Isaiah continued to smile as he sat, smoked his pipe and worked on an old crossword puzzle book.
"That doesn't sound so bad. Anyway not as bad as being bathed by a total stranger." Steve continued to fuss.
"Well you ain't smelled it. And when the burn sets in you'll think the hide is being peeled off your bones. It tends to sting a bit." Steve noticed the smirk on the older man's face and wasn't sure if he liked that Isaiah seemed to be having so much fun at his expense.
"Did she treat your son like this?" Steve wanted to change the focus from him to something else.
"Oh yeah. But he grew up with his mamma treating him like he was still in short pants and accepted it better than you seem to be."
"I guess my mom wasn't much better. It's just that she died a while back and it's only been Dad and me for the last several years, although he tends to get rather protective at times. I guess that's just parents for you."
"You didn't have any brothers or sisters?" Isaiah asked.
"I had a sister, but she got married and left not long after my mom died. She never came around much after that. She passed away a couple of years ago." Steve couldn't hide the hurt in his voice.
"Emma said that you was in Viet Nam like my Robbie." Isaiah offered.
"Yes, Sir. I served almost two tours. I got wounded in my leg and had to come home just before the end of the second one. I made a lot of friends over there. It was tough when I had to leave them." Steve ducked his head wishing he could think of something to say in order to change the subject.
Isaiah had other plans however. Speaking barely above a whisper he asked Steve. "Son, I was wondering if maybe you could tell me what it was like over there. I want to know what it was like for my boy."
Steve looked up into the old man's eyes and he could see the pain that was still there. Telling Isaiah about Nam would not help him get his boy back. It would only add to the pain that was already there.
"It won't make you feel any better. It's best if you don't know how it was." Steve pleaded with Isaiah not wanting to hurt him.
"Look, Son. I know it was a hard time for you boys. But I need to know. I owe it to Robbie. He was my only child. I need to know what it was like for him. You can help me, Son. Please, will you help me?" Steve could not ignore the pleading in the old man's voice or eyes as he made this request.
Unable to hold eye contact any longer Steve bowed his head and began speaking quietly dreading the hurt he was about to inflict on this grieving father.
"It gets hot over there. You sweat all the time. Your clothes stick to you because you never seem to dry out. Sometimes it's so humid you almost can't take a decent breath. Bugs eat at you constantly. At times you just want to claw at your body, and that's the good part.
"In the beginning you don't try to count the days until your time is up because it's too far off. In the end you don't count them because you don't want to know how many days you have to try and stay alive. Each day that gets closer to you going home brings more fear that you won't make it.
"You learn to watch every step you make. If you land on a mine you could blow yourself and half your platoon away. Trip wires were everywhere.
"You learn how to move around in the jungle so that you won't be heard. The slightest sound could give away your position and that would be fatal for everyone.
"You analyze every sound you hear. Your ears become a vital part of your survival. Every tree could hold a sniper just waiting to put a bullet in you and that's a thought you live with from the very first day you set foot in that place. You never know when you might be the next to go down. I had friends who simply fell dead by my side and I never heard a thing until it was too late. It was like playing Russian Roulette.
"You learn how to sleep with one eye open at all times. If you close them both you won't ever open them again. When you do wake up the next morning you thank God that you lived another day.
"It wasn't just a war about killing and defeating an enemy. They made sure that you brought the war home with you. You live with it for the rest of your life. Night after night you heard screaming and crying. Men begging to die. And you know that some of those men are your friends. The wounded that had to be left behind because there were too many to carry out of the firestorm. Sometimes I still hear them." This last sentence was said barely above a whisper.
"I can't even describe the things I saw. I never witnessed mutilations like that before and I hope I never do again. Dying over there wasn't the worse thing that could happen to you. Becoming a prisoner was." At this point tears were streaming down Steve's face. He started to sob quietly trying to purge himself of the memories that had been forced to the surface as he tried to fill Isaiah's request.
Unknown to both men Emma had been standing just outside the door hidden from view. She heard every word that Steve had told Isaiah. It broke her heart to hear of the horrors that her son and this young man had faced while trying to serve their country. She quietly walked over to her husband and rested a gentle hand on his arm. They looked at each other for a few seconds and then she told Isaiah it was time to get Steve out of the tub. She placed clean towels and underwear on the table and then left the room to give him some privacy.
Clearing his throat Isaiah reached for Steve to assist him and keep him steady so he wouldn't slip while climbing out. "It's time to get you out of there, Boy. You might shrivel up to nothing if you stay any longer." As he helped Steve to stand he softly said in his ear. "Thank you, Son. I know that was hard for you."
Once he was sure that the young man was steady on his feet he handed Steve a towel and left him to finish getting dried off. Isaiah found Emma in their bedroom sitting on the side of the bed crying. He sat down next to her and placed his arm around his wife. Together they sat quietly reflecting on what their guest had just told them.
Steve rummaged through the towels and soon realized that Emma had only brought him a pair of shorts. He began searching for the discarded nightshirt when he realized that it had been removed as well. This little discovery had him fussing and fuming at the prospect of not being able to get fully dressed before he was subjected to further administrations from his hostess.
Hearing the young man using words she didn't approve of, Emma grabbed the liniment and made her way back into the kitchen. Taking Steve by the arm she forced him into a chair admonishing the use of such ugly talk. She informed him that one more word and she would shove a bar of soap into his mouth and see if he could clean up his language.
Once Emma started to rub the oily medicine into his aching body Steve soon forgot all about the conversation with Isaiah. The smell alone nearly made him pass out. About two minutes after she began to rub the slippery mess on him a slow deep burning sensation began. It seemed to grow in intensity by the minute. Soon new tears were rolling out of his eyes from the hot burning on his skin. For the next thirty minutes Steve squirmed and fidgeted as the oil burned into his joints and muscles. He certainly hoped that if he survived Emma's treatment that it worked. He hated to think that he was being tortured for nothing.
Sporting a clean shirt and overalls, Steve decided to go for a walk. Isaiah eyed him suspiciously. "You don't know your way around here, Boy. I suggest you stay in sight of the house. I don't wanna' have to go looking for you cause you done got yourself lost. You understand me?"
Steve heard every word that Isaiah had said but he chose not to answer him. He knew exactly what Isaiah meant and it didn't set very well with him. Instead he chose to just walk on to the creek. Isaiah wasn't about to let the cop go without an understanding between them. He raised his voice and repeated. "I said do you understand me?" For some reason this angered Steve and he swung around to the older man and he made his position clear.
"I understand you. But you need to understand this. I'm no tenderfoot when it comes to the outdoors. I know how to get around on my own. I know for a fact that we are somewhere north of LA. I know that more than likely by the look of the country around here we are about twenty miles north at least. So don't think that I can't take care of myself, Isaiah. I know how to get back to LA…. by myself." Steve pinned the older man down with a glare.
Not being intimidated at all, Isaiah spat back at Steve. "If you know how to get back to town, Boy then why ain't you headed that way before now."
The question didn't surprise Steve as much as his answer did. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to share it with this ornery proud old man or not. After thinking on it for a bit he finally looked at Isaiah and in a quiet and gentle voice he replied.
"If I leave you two now, I might not be able to help you. I have to try and convince you to turn yourself in so that we can get this taken care of. I don't want to see you or Emma getting hurt."
Isaiah stood and stared at Steve for a second before he asked, "Why do you care so much about me and Emma anyway?"
"I don't know. Maybe because it would be wrong for anything to happen to you." Hanging his head down a bit Steve quietly continued. "I guess I owe it to Robbie to see to it that you get out of this without getting hurt. Now I'm going to go for a short walk down by the creek. I just want some time to think. Besides I'm no stranger to sore muscles. If you don't keep active then it takes longer to work out the kinks."
As Steve started towards the creek again Isaiah shouted after him. "Don't stay too long. Emma will be fixin' lunch soon and you skipped breakfast."
Steve merely raised his hand in reply and continued on. He knew that somehow he had to convince the couple to turn themselves in. He could have the kidnapping charges dropped. The bank hold up was going to be tough though. If only his dad were here to help him figure out how to help them.