Midnight

Adam sat on the back porch. It had been a good idea to build the porch here, Adam was thinking; it became an integral part of their lives. He and Zoe would spread a blanket on the planking and place Micah, when he was an infant, on it and then sit and talk while watching their child. And Micah would coo and babble while he rolled around on the blanket. That memory brought a small smile to his lips but it quickly faded. The view was sublime; Adam thought that even the Greek gods on Mount Olympus couldn't have had a better vantage point than they had from their back porch. But it was dark now and Adam just saw blackness in front of him as far as he could view. The night was overcast and he couldn't even see the stars; they were hidden from him.

He heard the doors open and Zoe's light footfall as she stepped onto the porch.

"Is Micah down for the night?" He didn't look at her.

"Yes. It took two stories and he asked when you were coming to say goodnight. I told him that you'd kiss him later, after he was asleep." Zoe moved to the chair by Adam but he put out his arm.

"Come her, Zoe, Come to me." She moved toward him and he pulled her down on his lap and put his arms around her and they rocked in silence, the only sound being the rockers on the wood floors. He kissed her bowed head and his sadness became greater.

He had noticed a few weeks ago that Zoe had seemed tired; she was pale and losing weight. He had asked her if she was all right and she had laughed and said yes, but Adam noticed that sometimes, he would catch Zoe as if she was looking intently within herself and he would call to her. She would look up and he would joke and ask her where she had gone. She would just smile.

Adam, in the hope of easing Zoe's burden, hired Mrs. Trask to come in and clean and to cook dinner. Zoe had protested about the cooking; she enjoyed that but Adam said that Micah, who was now three, provided more than enough for her to do. But then, one night a few days ago, Zoe had leaned down to pick up one of Micah's toys and became dizzy; she had to sit down and Adam saw the fear in her eyes and that frightened him.

"Zoe, I want you to see Paul Martin."

"I don't need to see him; I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Please, Zoe. Please. I'll take you."

"I'm just tired. I haven't had much of an appetite lately, and that's why I've lost weight-that's all. I probably need an elixir or something, that's all."

Adam didn't push it but he watched her closely.

"Pa's going to take Micah for the day," Adam told Zoe at breakfast one morning. "You and I are going to town."

"Why?"

"We haven't been off alone for a long time. I thought you'd enjoy spending the day with your husband. We can have lunch in town and then go shopping for a new hat for you. You better grab the chance, woman. You know how much I hate to go hat shopping." Adam smiled but his stomach was churning.

Micah ran to his "Gampa" and "Hossing," the boy's name for Hop Sing, who welcomed him with open arms, Ben sweeping up his beloved grandson. The two men hugged the boy, first Ben, kissing the child's soft black hair and then Hop Sing, taking the child and telling him that there were cookies waiting just for him. Ben told Adam and Zoe to have a nice day in town but Zoe's eyes met Ben's and then dropped. Ben rushed to the carriage and gave Zoe a kiss on her pale cheek and Adam watched them quizzically. He wasn't sure what it was, but something had passed between his father and his wife.

When they reached the outskirts of Virginia City, Adam pulled the buggy up to Dr. Martin's surgery.

"I thought that this was why you wanted to come to town," Zoe said quietly, "but you don't need to. Your father drove me into town twice over three weeks ago." Zoe looked at Adam and she saw his face take on a look of pain.

"Three weeks ago and you never told me? He never told me?"

"Don't blame him; I said that I would tell you—when the time was right. I suppose this is the right time. I just wanted you to be happy as long as possible." Zoe wet her lips and took a deep breath. "According to Dr. Martin, I'm dying. He said I have only two, maybe three more months. And before you say anything, nothing can be done. That's another reason why I didn't tell you. You would insist on taking me to every specialist in the country and even Europe but that isn't how I want to spend my days. I just want to be with Micah and you and my father and your family."

Adam didn't know how to respond. He was furious. He wanted to rage at her, to grab her by the upper arms and shake her until her teeth rattled. He was filled with fury and wanted to scream at her and do violence unto her. And he wanted to hold her and caress her and to take her home to bed and find pleasure in her body, to revel in physical sensations.

He was bereft. Never in his life had he been without hope and the lack of it made him want to howl with despair.

But he did none of it. "Oh, Zoe, what am I going to do? What am I going to do? I just…" Zoe reached out for him; she wanted to comfort him, but he shrugged off her hand and leapt down from the buggy. "I'm going to see Paul. I need to talk to him—to know everything. Do you want to come?" He was holding himself together as best he could. She shook her head no and so Adam went into the doctor's office himself and found Paul Martin and when Paul saw Adam's face, he knew Zoe had told him.

Adam drove them home. Zoe wanted to talk to Adam but he said that he never wanted to speak of it—never. And when they reached their house, Adam took Zoe by the hand and led her upstairs to their room. He wanted to be close to her, to give her pleasure and for him to feel something; there was a chilling numbness inside him.

And after his physical release, came the emotional one and Adam broke down and wept.

"Oh, Zoe, my heart is broken!" he cried. And Zoe pulled him to her and Adam lay with his head on her breasts, his arms around her, and sobbed like a child. Zoe soothed him, holding back her own tears, stroking his hair and shushing him and telling him that she understood. But Adam had never felt such a surge of emotion before, such an overwhelming grief.

But that was the last time he wept in her presence. Adam was determined to make her as happy as he could. So he treated everyday as if it was one in a long line of days. He would bring Zoe little gifts whenever he went into town and he picked wildflowers for her and brought her a bluebird feather he found and he tucked it behind her ear. And he smiled and behaved as he knew he should and yet, he felt dead inside.

His father had told him that it was the mind's defense against pain; a person had to kill the intolerable feelings or just roll over and die. The unbearable had to become bearable and the psyche had its own ways for a man to survive.

So Adam survived the pain and whenever he could, he would hold Zoe as close as possible and he would lie awake, sometimes not sleeping all night, wanting to extend his time with her. Life was too precious to sleep it away.

"It's time, Adam." Ben had opened the porch door. Adam sat in his black suit, looking out at the first snow of the season. Adam had taken Micah to the Ponderosa three days ago when Zoe died and left him there with his brothers and his father and Hop Sing. And since then, Adam had been wandering through the empty house, trying to feel Zoe's presence, burying his face in her clothing, lying where she had lain. And for the past few evenings, Adam had sat on the cold porch and talked to her; he hoped that she could hear him. As jaded as he had become over the years about God and an afterlife, he hoped that Zoe's spirit hovered around him, keeping him company. Sometimes he swore he felt her breath on his neck and her touch on his cheek.

Adam stared ahead, rocking slowly. "I don't think I can go, Pa. I keep hoping this cold will numb my mind but I can't stop thinking. It'll be saying goodbye to her and I can't. You said that memories would help, but they don't. They make it worse. They just make her loss more difficult to bear."

Ben sat down on the chair beside Adam. "Listen to me, Adam. Despite what you may think, I do know what you're feeling. It's midnight in your soul, isn't it? The blackest of black—no light, no hope. But the good thing about midnight is that after it passes—and it does-you're headed toward morning and the rising of the sun. I'm not trying to diminish what you're feeling but time really does heal—at least the surface of things, the open wounds. Nothing will ever take the pain away, nothing. But it does become easier to bear."

Adam slowly turned his head to look at his father. "I can't, Pa. I just can't."

Ben stood up. "Fine, Adam. We're going to the funeral and one day, you can tell Micah why you never went to his mother's funeral."

Adam sat for a moment. He had forgotten about Micah, so absorbed in his own grief as he was. He had forgotten that although he may be without a wife, his son was without a mother. He slowly stood up.

"Pa. Wait for me." Ben paused and Adam closed the doors of the porch and stood next to his father. "I hope that you're right, Pa." And Ben put his arm around Adam's shoulders and the two walked into the pristine snow, the sun making it sparkle like a thousand diamonds spread across the countryside.

~ Finis ~