1Before There Was Darkness

Part Six

The aroma of fresh brewed coffee and bacon and eggs roused him from a deep sleep. It was early, the clock on the bedside table registering just 5:45; the life of a farmer, whether forty-two or eighty-two, like his grandfather, started early, often before the sun was a glimmer in the pre-dawn sky and without regard for weekday or weekend.

There was a definite chill in the air, a foretelling that the warmer summer days were dwindling and fall, in all its glory, would be heralding its arrival before long. He snuggled a little deeper under the warmth of the feather comforter, refusing just yet to give in to the rumblings of his empty stomach.

As much as he had enjoyed the past few days, and a chance to revisit the place that still held the fondest memories of childhood, the simple farm life left him craving the sights and sounds of New York. He missed it, far more than he thought he would. This afternoon he would head back to that world, to what was, for him, familiar and comfortable.

He had been out in the fields all week, working along side his grandfather, mending broken fence posts and relationships along the way. It had taken some doing. They may have been family, but they were more like strangers; twenty years of distance a wide gap to bridge. Gone was the little tow-headed boy who couldn't wait to crawl up into his Grandpa's lap. It was obvious that there would be a period of awkwardness between the two; thankfully it was short-lived. The more time they spent together, working and relaxing, the more familiar they became with each other. By the end of the week it was as if time had stood still and waited for the two of them to catch up.

Throwing the comforter back, he swung his long legs over the side of the bed and cringed as his bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor. That should have been enough to shake the last of the cobwebs from his head; anything leftover would disappear with that first cup of coffee. He pulled his NYPD sweat suit on to ward off the chill and headed downstairs.

He found his mom standing over the stove, humming something; he was never sure where she had found some of those tunes, but he loved to hear her sing. It was another one of the good memories he carried with him; it was also one thing he hadn't inherited from her; he couldn't sing to save his life Sneaking up from behind, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her gently on the top of the head. "Morning, Mom."

She reciprocated by reaching back and circling him as far as her arms would allow. "Good morning, Jimmy. Sleep okay, son?"

"Yeah, I haven't had much trouble doing that since I got here." He had wondered that first night how that was going to work. He was so used to drifting off with the sounds of the city; sirens, traffic, noise. Here on the farm, it was crickets, leaves rustling in the evening breeze and the occasional hoot of the barn owls. But sleep had been no problem; he'd hit the hay, exhausted every night, and was easily lulled into slumber by those sounds.

"It's all that honest, hard work and that good, clean Indiana air." She handed him a mug of steaming coffee."

"Speaking of hard work, where's Grandpa?"

"Up and gone already. Probably almost done with the milking by now. He keeps himself busy during the day. I don't see him much."

"I noticed. It's been a busy week for all of us. Hard to believe it's over."

"Shhhh, please, I don't want to talk about that right now. I'm not ready to let you go, Jimmy." She gazed over at her eldest son, perched on the edge of the bar stool, his sandy blond hair spiking in all directions, two days of unshaven stubble on his face. His skin was lightly bronzed from the work of the week, making his blue eyes seem that much deeper. Thirty already, she thought. Where had the years gone? She took a mental photograph, something to tuck away for those occasions when she knew she'd miss him.

As if reading her thoughts, he said, "I promise you, Mom, I'll be back a lot sooner next time, okay?"

She smiled. "You better - I'm going to hold you to that." He knew she would. "What time's your flight?"

"Not til 3:00. We've got a little time."

Breakfast over, he left her to clean up the kitchen and retreated upstairs to gather up the last of his things and get himself ready. Once his suitcase was packed and stood waiting by the front door, he strolled out to the barn to find his grandfather.

"Grandpa? You here?" The sweet smell of fresh hay filled the barn.

"In here!" He found him, in the hay room, pitching the bales into neat little piles to be fed to the herd at the end of the day. "You heading out already, Bud?" His "buddy" of 20 years ago had grown up; the old man figured the nickname better grow up too.

"No, not yet. I got an hour or so before I have to hit the road. But I thought if you got busy, I might not find you later."

His grandfather stabbed the pitchfork into a bale and pulled a bandana from the pocket of his overalls. He wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"It's been a great week...maybe a little too fast but I've really enjoyed having some good help around here." Jim smiled and nodded in agreement. "You know, Bud, it was always hard to let you go back then. I think it's going to be even harder this time. We've missed out on so much...I feel like I'm just getting to know you again."

"Yeah, I know Grandpa, but I'd like to think we made up for a little of that this week. It's been really good to have a chance to spend time with you again."

The old man looked over at his grandson, so tall, so grown up, such a fine young man. "Jimmy..." His voice trailed off.

Jim looked at the old man; no doubt he'd aged in the last twenty years, but he was still strong and healthy. There would be more time, he knew that. He held out his hand but his Grandfather grabbed him and pulled him close, patting his back heartily.

"I know... I'll miss you too, Grandpa." With that, he turned and walked away, not wanting to say good-bye. He didn't see the tears that welled in the old man's eyes.

Strolling through the field, her tiny hand tucked in his, Carol Dunbar felt a joy she hadn't felt in years. There hadn't been much time for special moments like this. Holding down two, sometimes three jobs to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads, and fighting with the damn booze to try to maintain some semblance of a normal life had demanded so much of her. While she had tried to make time for her sons, there were many nights when she crawled into bed thinking she'd done a pretty lousy job of it.

Moments like this were affirmation that perhaps she hadn't done so badly after all. She knew Tom and Ricky were fine. Jimmy was the one she worried about the most. He was her eldest and as such, he was the one who had taken on so much of the pain of those years, the brunt of his father's drunken anger directed not at her, but at him. But watching him with his Grandfather for the past week, the easy laughter between the two of them, the chance to sit down with him and talk about things that had never been said, listening to him talk about his job with passion in his voice, she knew he was fine too.

Back at the house, the suitcase safely stowed away in the trunk, he flopped down in the grass under the big oak tree. She sat back, reclining against its massive trunk.

"Jimmy, you haven't mentioned anything about your social life. You keeping anything from your Mom?"

"Like what?" He knew full well where this was going.

"I don't know. Are there any friends back in the City, and you know what I mean by friends. Nothing would make me happier than to see my boys settle down."

"Nah, I haven't mentioned anyone, because there really isn't anyone. You know, it's the job." How could he tell her that there were lots of "friends" back home, just no one he'd want to divulge to his mother. "I guess I haven't found that special someone yet." He stopped and looked at her, a sudden seriousness to his face. "Did you think Dad was the one? I mean... "

"I know what you mean, Cricket." She smiled wistfully. "I wish you could have known what it was like when I first met him. We had nothing but each other and that was enough. Don't get me wrong, we had lots of plans and dreams. When you came along, I thought all my prayers had been answered. And then came Ricky and Tommy and our life was good. We still didn't have much, but we were a family and that's all that mattered."

"Your Daddy worked hard for a lot years and he provided what he could. We were never rich, but we were proud. Then he lost his job and I don't know what else along the way. Somewhere in all of that he mired himself in misery. Honestly, I didn't know what to do. As much as I struggled with it, I couldn't bring myself to leave him."

"Did you think about it? Ever?"

"Leave?" She grew quiet for a minute, than nodded her head. "When he got nasty, I'd think about it a thousand a times a day. But your Daddy was sick and I promised him the day we married that it was for better or for worse, in sickness and in health. That might sound cliche, but you don't walk out on somebody because they're sick. Maybe I made a mistake, I don't know. I kept hoping he'd come back to us, he'd realize that all he needed was right in front of him. You remember, Jimmy, I know you do, the days when it looked like he would."

"Yeah, I remember. Those were the days when I could almost forgive him. But then he'd go right back to that goddamn bottle...I was so angry with him, Mom, for what he was doing to you, for what he did to us. It's funny. I thought I still was but when I think about it now, all I feel for him is sorry. He really blew it."

"What about me, Jimmy? Were you angry with me too?"

"I'm not going to lie to you, Mom." He didn't finish the thought; she knew in his silence what he wouldn't say. "I told you before, I didn't understand it all back then, but I do now."

"Jimmy, one piece of advice from your old mom. If you are lucky enough to find the person you want to spend your life with someday, remember that it's good and bad; you can't know one without the other."

"I know." He rolled onto his side and looked at her. There was sadness in his eyes. "I wish I could have made things a little bit better, Mom. I tried."

She smiled. "You did Cricket, and you still do. Just by being here."

An hour later, she stood in the driveway, watching the car disappear around the bend. Although she knew the tears that had been gathering would fall without protest, she wore a smile of contentment too; the healing had begun. She blew him a kiss; he waved just once and then he was gone.