Wounded

TEN

THE DAY HAD GONE SOUR in more ways than one. The sky had turned slate gray and was beginning to spawn fat snowflakes. Weather Wally had actually predicted heavy snow and the face of the day had caused me to summarily dismiss him. I was standing out in front of the house in the near dark watching the storm get bad. It had been two hours since Howard’s call and I was growing concerned. Zoe and the pup were out sniffing and taking care of matters.

David came out and joined me. “It’s so cold.”

“This is blowing in out of the north. I sure didn’t see it coming. Maybe you should go back inside.”

“No, I’m okay. Hey, I wanted to thank you for the ride today. That was great, beautiful.”

“You’re welcome. You looked good on horseback. How’d it feel?”

“Better. Not bad, really.” He jumped a little to keep warm. “I liked it. Jesus, I’ve never been this cold.” He looked at the snow in the sky above us. “John, have you ever been hurt on a horse?”

“Sure. But hell, you can get hurt getting out of the bathtub, but you’re not going to stop taking baths.” I looked at the boy’s face. “My wife was killed by a horse. Actually, she caused it. She tried to get on a horse that wasn’t ready when she wasn’t ready and things got bad in a hurry.”

“Jesus.”

“Six years ago. I miss her.” I spotted headlights on the ridge. “There he is,” I said. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

“I’ll be okay. I’m a little nervous.”

I nodded.

He pulled his jacket tighter around his body.

“It’s going to get colder, too,” I told him.

The car bounced along the drive toward us and stopped. Howard got out and so did a woman.

“Who’s that?” David asked me, softly.

“I don’t know,” I whispered. The woman was wrapped in a long down coat and her blond hair squirted from the edges of her fuzzy cap. I walked toward Howard. David hung back.

“John!” Howard greeted me with a hug. “John, I’d like you to meet Pamela. Pamela this is the famous John Hunt.”

“Hey, John,” Pamela said. She was young, young enough that I took time to think that she was young.

Howard had the back door open and was pulling out a couple of bags. “The drive over here was a mess. The snow is getting bad.”

“Let me take one of those,” I said.

“No, I wouldn’t hear of it,” Howard said. He turned and looked toward David and the house.

“And is that my son?”

“Hi, Dad.”

I wrested one of the bags away from Howard anyway. He walked with Pamela toward the house. I followed.

“Pamela, this is my son, David.”

“David, this is Pamela.”

David nodded a greeting. Howard tried awkwardly to hug his son while he held a bag slung over his shoulder.

“Let’s get inside where it’s warm,” I said. David led the way and I brought up the rear. I cast a glance at the snowy night, before entering. Howard made all the introductions. Pamela was even younger in full light. If she was older than David, it was only by months.

“What a sweet house,” Pamela said. She unbuttoned her big lavender coat and peeled out of it. She needed the coat. The blouse she wore worked hard to contain her breasts and her low-slung jeans revealed occasional flashes of her navel. Her boots were oddly appropriate for the weather.

Morgan showed absolutely no reaction, good horsewoman that she was, but Gus turned away and walked into the kitchen. He said over his shoulder that he would put on some coffee and water for tea.

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Morgan,” Howard said.

“Me, too.” Morgan looked at the luggage. “You’ll be sleeping in the study. It’s a sofa bed and we hope it doesn’t kill you.”

“We’ll be fine,” Howard said. “Won’t we, Pamela?”

“Of course,” Pamela said.

David stood at a distance and watched, his face fairly blank. His eyes were angry, his body showed fear, his fingers tapping against his thigh, his Adam’s apple moving with his swallowing.

“I’ll help Gus while Morgan shows you the study,” I said. I walked into the kitchen and closed the door.

“That young lady needs to put on some clothes,” Gus said. Gus shook his head. “What is that man thinking? Why’d he bring her here?”

“I don’t know, Gus.”

“Why is he here at all?”

I shrugged.

David came into the room.

“How are you?” I asked.

David barked out a laugh.

“That’s what I say,” Gus said.

Morgan came into the kitchen, looked behind herself as she closed the door. “What is wrong with that man?” she asked. “They’re freshening up.”

“I hope that means getting dressed,” Gus said.

“Thank you,” Morgan said.

“I’m sorry, David,” I said.

“Why is he here?” David walked to the window and looked out at the snow. “Hell, he can’t even leave now.”

“Got that right,” Gus said. He sat at the table and whistled for the coyote. Emily came and sat to have her head stroked.

“Well, they’re here,” I said. “Let’s make the best of it. Gus, do we have enough food?”

“Plenty of food,” Gus said.

“They’re coming,” Morgan said and stepped away from the door toward me.

“That room will be just fine,” Howard said.

“It’s sweet,” Pamela said. “It has a real, ranchy, rustic feel. And I like all the wood.” Then she spotted the puppy under Gus’s hand. “Oh, look at the puppy. What kind of puppy?” She made kissing sounds to call the dog, but as long as Gus was touching her, she was not moving.

Gus stopped petting Emily. “She’s a coyote,” he said. “Her mother was killed and she lost her leg.”

“Oh, poor thing.” Pamela squatted and I was fearful her breast would pop free. She kissed again and this time the puppy hopped over to her. “Poor thing,” she said again.

Zoe watched from the corner, stretched out on her bed. She was attending mainly to David, I assumed because he appeared upset.

The coyote wandered away in midstroke and sat again beside Gus.

“You’re welcome to build a fire in the little stove,” I said. “The big stove in the other room keeps things pretty warm, but that one’s nice when lit.”

“Thank you,” Pamela said.

Howard walked over and put his arm over David’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you, son. I came so I could have a little time with you.”

David looked at his father and then at Pamela. “I promised Gus I’d help get the meal ready right now.”

“Of course,” Howard said. Then he looked at me. “Oh yeah. Pammy, would you run to the room and get that gift?”

Pamela left the kitchen.

“I brought you a little something,” Howard said. “This is a really nice place. I’m looking forward to seeing it in the light.”

“I talked to Mom,” David said.

“And how is she?” Howard asked.

“She sounds really strong now,” David said. “Like she’s found herself somehow.”

“That’s great,” Howard said. “That’s what I always wanted for her.”

Pamela came back into the room and handed me a wrapped bottle. I thanked her and stared at the blue ribbon.

“Open it,” Howard said. “It’s a bottle of Scotch. I thought I remembered that you like Scotch.”

“Thank you.” I peeled down the paper and looked at the label. “Glenturret,” I read. “I’ve never heard of that.”

“It’s a nineteen-eighty,” Pamela said. “It’s aged in special cherrywood barrels. It’s got a nice flavor.”

“Thank you. What a nice gift.”

“Pamela knows all about whiskys and wines,” Howard said.

“I’ll bet,” David said.

“Is that your business?” Morgan asked.

“No, just a hobby,” Pamela said.

“What is your business?” David asked.

“Our flight into Denver was as smooth as silk,” Howard said. “That’s some airport. We had a little trouble with the rental car. You see they stuck us in that midsize. I reserved an SUV, but they screwed it up. It would have been good on a night like tonight.”

“No kidding,” David said.

“Why don’t we go into the other room and let Gus get on with the meal,” Morgan said.

“That’s a good idea,” Gus said. Then, to David, “And you stay in here and help me, youngblood.”

Morgan followed Pamela and Howard out of the kitchen. I started after them and stopped at the door. “Are you okay, David?”

David nodded.

The guests, Morgan and I sat in the living room. The stove doors were open and the fire actually looked beautiful.

“It’s like a postcard,” Pamela said.

“Let’s break open that Scotch,” Howard said.

“I’ll get it,” Morgan said. She touched my leg as she got up.

“So, it was a messy drive,” I said.

“Just awful,” Howard said. “I could hardly see the road.” He looked at Pamela beside him. “But Pamela helped. Right, Pammy? We got gas in that funny little station at the edge of town. I went in to pay first and he told me to go ahead and pump it and then come back and pay.”

“So trusting,” Pamela said.

“You don’t do that in New York, I can tell you that.” Howard smiled at Morgan’s reappearance with the whisky. “There we are.”

Morgan put the tray with the bottle and glasses on the coffee table. “I thought I’d let you pour your own. I’m having water.”

“If you don’t mind,” I said, “I’ll have water as well.”

“It is early,” Howard said. “But it was a long drive.” He leaned forward and poured a little into two glasses.

Morgan poured half her water into my glass.

“To the new year,” Howard said.

We touched glasses and drank.

“That’s exquisite,” Howard said. “You’ll have to try this later.”

I nodded. “So, how is the law business?”

“Boring. Basically, I don’t like my clients. Every one of them thinks that he is my only client. They call me at home and expect me to remember the details of their particular cases.”

“Howard is a tax attorney,” I told Morgan. “In college, he wanted to be a civil rights lawyer.”

“So, what happened?” Pamela asked Howard.

“Marriage and kid,” Howard said, flatly. He leaned forward and poured himself a little more Scotch. “When you’re young, it’s easy to be idealistic. It doesn’t cost anything. Now, John here, he’s managed to stay idealistic. He said he wanted to live on a ranch with horses and that’s what he’s done. But John isn’t like the rest of us. He built this place all by himself.”

“I had plenty of help,” I said.

“That’s a John thing to say.” Howard laughed. “This man is amazing. He’s always been better than me at everything. Well, part of it was that he claimed to not want as much, but I don’t know if that was true. What do you think, John?”

I shrugged. I didn’t know what to make of his words or even the situation for that matter, perhaps especially the situation. I looked at Morgan and I could tell that if she knew of something to help me out, she would have been doing it. I had a mind to excuse myself to the kitchen for some reason or another, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave Morgan alone with them.

“What do you do?” Morgan asked Pamela.

“I’m a paralegal,” Pamela said. She said it without conviction, as if in some way it was not true.

“Pammy used to work in my firm, but no longer.”

“I hope there was no problem,” Morgan said.

“Only that we’re getting married,” Howard said. “My firm has a policy against fraternization.”

“Congratulations, Howard,” I said. “I don’t suppose David knows anything about this yet?”

Howard shook his head.

We sat quietly for a while. Pamela reached over and held Howard’s hand. I studied the man. He had been a friend for a long time and in all that time I was always confused about why he was my friend. We had little in common, aesthetically, socially or politically, and we’d never run in the same circles. Still, I had been the best man at his wedding and I was called the godfather of his son, though there was never any official church business. Susie had always flat-out hated him. Right at that second I was finding him somewhat objectionable and it made me feel bad about myself.

“We’re getting married, too,” Morgan said.

I smiled at her. It was the perfect thing to say. It eased the tension in the room and served to bring me back to the positive stuff in my life.

“Yes,” I said. “Somehow I managed to trick her into it.”

Gus stuck his head into the room and announced dinner, stating that it would be served in the main dining room.

“He’s referring to the kitchen,” I said.

At the table we sat in a painful stew of silence. The elk stew and the potato pancakes and the asparagus might have been as delicious as it all looked, but I could not taste any of it. I was worried about David and about what Howard might say and about what Howard would say and about what Gus might say as he watched Pamela lean her breasts over the table as she reached for the bread.

“Mother’s fine,” David said, for no apparent reason. Except that the reason was all too apparent.

“I’m glad to hear that, son,” Howard said. Then, “Gus, this meal is fantastic. What kind of meat is in this stew?”

“Elk.”

“You hear that, Pammy? Elk. We’re on the frontier.”

We were having wine with dinner and David was on his third glass. I didn’t know how to slow him down. Then Gus caught his eye and said, “Go easy on the wine, son.”

“David,” Howard said. “I need to tell you something.”

“What? That you’re going to marry Pammy here?” David laughed, but the silence that followed his comment made him silent, too. “You’re not serious.”

“I’m very serious,” Howard said. “Pamela and I have thought about it and we’ve decided it’s the right thing to do.”

“What do you know about the right thing to do?” David said.

“Son,” Howard said.

“Don’t son me.” David shot me a glance, as if for help. “You haven’t asked me once how I’m doing. I mean, really asked me. Well, I’ll tell you. I broke up with Robert and I’m in a lot of pain.”

“Robert,” Howard said with disdain. “There will be other Roberts and there will be more pain. I don’t understand the Robert thing.”

“Of course you don’t,” David said. “You don’t want to understand. You won’t try to understand.”

“Have you ever been with a girl?” Howard asked.

I scooted back from the table, my chair making the sound I wanted. “David, we’d better go check on the animals. It’s going to be a rough night out there.”

David studied my eyes for a second. I could feel the breath he let out. “I’ll grab my jacket,” he said.

The frigid wind was blasting through the barn. I pushed the north door closed after us. With the wind-tunnel effect gone, we were immediately more comfortable and we could hear each other.

“Let’s check everybody’s water and blankets,” I said.

“Can you believe what you just heard?” David asked.

“I’m sorry, David.”

“That woman is younger than I am,” he said. “Roberts.” David shook his head and then let out a scream.

I turned to a rustling sound and found the mule standing in an open stall. I chuckled.

“What is it?” David asked.

“This mule may be a lot of things, but he’s not stupid. Throw him some hay and close him in.” I looked down the barn line. “Then we’ll walk the outside and make sure the outer stall doors are shut tight.”

“What should I do?” David asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I suppose you can decide that though he’s your father, he doesn’t have to be your friend. You don’t need his approval. You might want it; that’s another thing. But you don’t need it.”

“That makes sense.”

“And it was easy to say. Don’t use me as any source of wisdom, David. Just remember: There is a large bird called a pelican, whose mouth can hold more than his belly can; he can hold in his beak enough food for a week and I don’t know how the hell he can.”

“What’s that supposed to tell me?” he asked.

“That’s my point, son.” I slapped his shoulder. “Now, let’s finish out here before I freeze in place.” I could feel the work calm David, but the cold still drove us back to the house.

The whisky bottle was now on the table. Pamela and Howard were sitting next to each nursing glasses. The woman was making a fuss over the puppy, but Emily kept her distance, hanging tight to Gus’s legs while he washed dishes.

“It’s bad out there,” I said. “We must have six inches already. Where’s Morgan?”

“Upstairs,” Gus said.

David walked to the table and poured himself a tall Scotch.

“Well, at least drink it slow,” Howard said. “This is beautiful stuff. Aged in—” He stopped and turned to Pamela. “What kind of barrels?”

“Cherrywood.”

“Cherrywood barrels.” I could hear that Howard was tipsy.

To which David responded, “Fuck you.”

Howard looked at Pamela, wide-eyed, then laughed. The woman laughed with him.

David walked out of the room.

Gus tossed his towel onto the counter and said, “That’s it for me.”

“You’re not staying up for midnight?” Pamela asked.

“Nothing happens at midnight,” Gus said. “Nothing that can’t happen at ten o’clock or tomorrow morning. Good night, all.”

“Good night, Gus,” I said.

“Yeah, thanks for a great meal,” Howard said.

“Thank you,” from Pamela.

Gus left.

“You’re not turning in, too, are you?” Howard asked me.

“As a matter of fact. This snow is going to make a lot of work for me in the morning, so I’m advised to get some sleep.”

“Boo,” said Pamela.

“Sorry,” I said. “Good night.”

I walked out, looked down the hall and saw that David’s door was closed. I then climbed the stairs to find Morgan sitting on the bed. I sat beside her and asked what she was thinking about.

“Mother,” she said.

I put my arm around her. “It’s a tough time, these holidays.”

“Poor David,” she said.

“No kidding.”

“Are they drunk yet?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I can’t believe that you even know that man, much less that he’s a close friend.”

“Apparently, I don’t know him.” I got up, walked to the window, and watched the snow sift through the light of the vapor lamp on the barn. “Hopefully the snow will die down tonight, the roads will get plowed, and they’ll be out of here tomorrow.”

“Are you going back down there?” she asked.

“Do I look like I’ve just lost my mind? No, I say let’s get all snuggly in bed and pretend that we’re somewhere else.”

“Like the Arctic?”

“That works.”

The snow had done its job and made the world quiet. Momentarily. I awoke to shouting. Something like: “Fuck you!” and “Fuck you, too!” I sat up and looked at the clock; it was about midnight. Morgan awoke as well. She looked at me and tried to orient herself. She sat up.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I think Howard and David are fighting.”

Then Pamela’s voice split the deeper ones, “Stop it!”

“Shut up,” David shouted.

Then there was a silence.

I stepped to the door and opened it. Gus was standing inside his open door across the hall.

“Sounds bad,” he said.

A door slammed. I wondered if I should go down. If David had just closed himself up in his room, then it might all be over. I certainly didn’t want to hear anyone’s side of anything right then.

“I guess that’s it,” I said.

Gus closed his door and I went back to bed.

“Come in here and get warm,” Morgan said.

We started to kiss. I held Morgan and told her I loved her and I managed to get off her nightshirt. We had quiet, slow sex and then we lay in bed, watching the snow.

About a half-hour later there was a crash, breaking glass. Then a man’s voice cried out.

“Good lord,” I said. I threw back the covers and we got dressed. Gus followed us down the stairs and into the living room. The Scotch bottle was shattered on the floor and Howard was sitting on the sofa picking a shard of glass from his foot.

“What the Sam Hill?” Gus asked.

“I dropped the bottle,” Howard said. “Stepped on some glass.”

“Is it bad?” Pamela asked.

I looked down the hall and saw that David’s door was open and the light was on. “Where’s David?”

“He stormed out of here,” Howard said. “He drank some more whisky and got drunk and just stormed out.”

“When?” I asked.

“Awhile ago,” he said.

Gus went into the kitchen and came back. “His jacket’s in the mud room.”

“Damnit!” I said. “Howard, why didn’t you tell me!”

“So, he ran outside.”

“It’s ten-below out there.” I looked at Morgan. “I’ll look in the barns and you look around the outside of the house.”

“What’s going on?” Howard asked, beginning to understand that the situation was dire. He tried to focus on me through his drunkenness.

“Your son is out there with no coat and no boots, man.” I turned to Gus. “Make some coffee and try to sober them up.”

I pulled on my boots and parka and went out to the barns. I went through both twice and saw no sign of him. As I trotted back to the house I saw that the south gate was swinging with the wind. The gate had been closed. I sprinted back to the house.

Morgan was back inside. She shook her head.

Howard was shaking now, not from the cold, but from the realization of what had happened.

“Gus, I want you and Morgan to take the Jeep and drive up to the road, watch the sides. I’m going to ride south and search that way.”

Morgan was terrified. I kissed her forehead.

By the time I had saddled the App and was traveling south toward the hills, an hour and a half had passed since the slamming of the door, plenty of time for hypothermia to set in, especially with the alcohol in him. I hoped that his youth and strength would help him. I also hoped that he was just yards from the gate and not miles. The beam of my flashlight was useless and so I moved slowly, trying to let my eyes adjust and hoping the horse could see better than I. I called out.

Finally my eyes were serving me and I could see the shapes of trees and tops of ridges. I rode faster. Ice formed in my moustache. I rode a few miles, feeling completely useless and helpless. Then the horse shied. I brought her back around and tried to see what had spooked her. I was in some trees and I shone my light at the bases of them. I dismounted and took a few steps.

There was David. He raised a weak hand into my light. He was stiff with cold. His clothes were wet. I was so scared I was hopping in place, wondering what to do, trying to get my bearings. I looked down the slope and spotted the shape of a fallen tree that I had seen many times; I’d used it as a mile marker. I was about four miles from my house. I was about a mile from the cave. I pulled David up and over my shoulder and eased him over the saddle. I walked the horse to the cave and brought her in out of the snow. The complete darkness made her jumpy and I tried to calm her. I got David down and checked him with my light. He was blue. His respiration was shallow. His clothes were soaked through. I put my hand on his stomach and it was ice cold. I wanted to build a fire, but I had no dry wood. I had to get the wet clothes away from his skin. I took him deeper into the cave, away from the opening and the wind. I took off his shirt and pants and socks and underwear; everything was soaked. Then I took off my clothes that were wet on the outside as well. I needed to use my body heat to warm him up. I needed to use the warmest thing I could find and that was my own 98.6 degrees. I pressed myself against him, rubbing his iced fingers in my hands, putting them in my armpits, blowing on them. He was shivering like no one I had ever seen, his teeth chattering, his eyes rolling back and showing white. “Come on, David, stay with me.” I tried to warm his feet with my own. I thought that if he only lost some toes he’d be lucky. I kept talking to him. “It’s going to be all right, son, hang on.” I put my cheek on his.

He began to mutter things, more sounds than words. I tried to take that as a good sign. David moved his face to in front of me and he pressed his icy lips against mine. It took me a few seconds to realize it was a kiss. I had never been so confused. I let him kiss me, felt his shivering face soften to mine. I just wanted him warm, warmer. I couldn’t pull away; I was trying to save his life.