Jake saw the old pickup coming toward him but paid it little mind
because it was going the wrong way to do him any good. When it came closer, he
noticed a young woman and a child inside, but didn’t recognize them. He nodded
politely as they passed and kept on walking.
When he was a little farther down the road, he heard the vehicle
braking, then turning around, and his first instinct was to brace for another
confrontation. When the pickup caught up with him and stopped, he didn’t know
what to expect.
Laurel rolled down the window and
managed a brief smile.
“Jake Lorde?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m Laurel Payne, your neighbor down the road. Get in and I’ll take
you home.”
Jake breathed an easy sigh of relief. “Thanks,” he said, and put his
things in the truck bed. He saw the little girl in the backseat as he opened
the door and winked at her as he got in.
Bonnie was immediately charmed,
partly because he reminded her of her father, whom she missed, and partly
because he belonged to Mr. Lorde, whom she had adored.
Laurel waited until he settled before she accelerated.
“Welcome home,” she said shyly, and kept her eyes on the road.
“Thank you,” Jake said, trying to
figure out who she was, and then it hit him. “You were Laurel Joyner, right?”
She nodded.
“You said it’s Payne now. By any
chance did you marry Adam Payne? I knew him in high school.”
“Yes, I did,” she said.
“My daddy is dead,” Bonnie
announced.
Laurel sighed. “That’s my daughter, Bonnie. She’s a first-grader
this year.”
“Hello, Bonnie. I’m sorry about your daddy, and I’m sorry for your
loss,” he told Laurel.
“Thank you,” Laurel said, but when she wasn’t forthcoming with any
further information, Jake didn’t push the issue.
A few minutes later they drove up on the mailbox at the end of his
driveway. Laurel slowed down, and when she turned off the road and headed up
the driveway, the ruts were so deep that they bounced in the seats all the way
to the house.
“Sorry,” she said.
“Looks like you just pointed out the first repair I need to put on
my list,” Jake said.
She pulled up to the fence surrounding the yard, put the truck in
park, and started to get out.
“No, don’t get out. I can get it all,” Jake said. “I really
appreciate the ride and hope I didn’t make you late to wherever you were
going.”
“We’re fine with the time,” Laurel said. “Have a nice day, and
again, welcome home.”
“Thank you,” Jake said.
Laurel waited while he gathered all of his things from the back of
her truck and then headed for the front door. As soon as he was clear of her
truck, she began backing up to turn around.
When Jake turned to watch her hasty exit, he saw her little girl on
her knees in the backseat watching him. She waved.
He waved back and then they were gone and he had no other excuses to
delay the inevitable. He reached above the door for the key, unlocked it, and
went inside. He set his duffel bag against the wall and then headed to the
kitchen with the groceries.
His footsteps echoed on the old
hardwood floors, and despite the cleaning, the rooms smelled musty. He set the
groceries on the counter and then opened the two windows in the kitchen to
start airing the house. The house might get chilly, but he was choosing fresh
air rather than airless, musty rooms.
Opening the cabinet doors as he
put up food was like turning back time. His mother’s dishes were still stacked
in the same places they had been when he was growing up. A couple of coffee
cups were missing, probably broken from years of use. When he opened a drawer
to the left of the sink and found the notepads and pens they’d used to make
lists and saw his father’s writing on the top page of one pad, a moment of
anger swept over him. His father’s grocery list was still here, but he wasn’t. He picked up the one on top to
begin a new list of things he was going to need, then took it with him as he
walked through the rooms, making notes of what he needed to buy.
He knew for sure he needed toilet paper, bath powder, and toothpaste
for the bathroom. Laundry soap, stain remover, and cleaning supplies for the
utility room. Light bulbs for the house, and everything it took to restock a
kitchen.
He was passing a window when he saw the school bus go by the house.
He glanced at the clock and smiled. Fifteen minutes to eight—-the same time
he’d always caught the bus. He continued through the house, checking off things
needing repairs. The showerhead was leaking and he’d noticed loose boards on
the front porch when he’d stepped on it.
Several times he thought he heard footsteps in the house and would
turn, expecting to see his father walk into the room with a big welcome-home
grin on his face, and then remember. He made a note to get a Wi-Fi connection
at the house and to set up his email.
It was moving toward noon when he finally closed all of the windows
and turned on the central heat to warm up the house, then grabbed the keys to
his dad’s pickup from a small nail inside one of the upper cabinets and headed
toward the barn. It’s where he’d left the truck after the funeral.
A trio of pigeons roosting in the rafters flew off when he entered.
The red Chevrolet truck was a little dusty but otherwise intact. Jake unlocked
it with the remote and then looked inside. It was just as he’d left it. He
backtracked to the last granary where he’d hidden the battery and put it back
in the vehicle. He checked the oil, the transmission fluid, and the air
pressure in the tires before he was satisfied, then started it up and drove it to
the house and parked beneath the carport.
He was back in the kitchen making a sandwich when he thought of
Laurel Payne again and wondered where she’d been going so early, then wondered
what she did for a living. It had to be tough being a single parent.
He sat down in the living room to eat and turned on the television
to catch local news, only to realize he didn’t recognize any of the journalists
reporting. So some things had changed after all.
The food he’d made was tasteless, but his hunger had been satisfied,
and that was all that mattered. He was thinking about going into town and
setting up his banking, then checking in with the post office to let them know
he was home and to resume delivery.
But then he fell asleep and went back to war.
The explosion from the IED
sounded like the end of the world, and when Jake came to, he thought he was
dead. The pain from his wounds had yet to register, and he was trying
desperately to stand. He couldn’t hear, he couldn’t see for the smoke and dust,
and he couldn’t feel his legs. This was a blistering
disappointment. He thought heaven would be prettier than this.
Someone yelled at him. DeSosa! He was telling him not to
die, but the way he felt, he wasn’t making any promises. It wasn’t until the
ground began vibrating beneath him and the air was
spinning above his head that he started yelling for help. That was a chopper,
and he didn’t want to be left behind.
Jake woke up in a sweat, his heart pounding and tears in his eyes.
“Son of a… Ah, God,” he muttered, and bolted off the sofa as if he’d
been launched, trying to get as far away from the dream as possible.
He yanked the front door open and strode onto the porch, taking in
the fresh air in gulps. The sweat on his forehead began to cool as the tears
dried on his cheeks, and he began to pace. The loose boards squeaked, reminding
him of a job still undone. Furious from the dream and frustrated because the
war still haunted his life, he went straight to the toolshed for a hammer and
nails, then back to the house.
Every time the hammer made contact with a nail, it took everything
he had not to duck, because it sounded like gunshots. He was so focused on
getting rid of the nightmare that he didn’t see Laurel Payne driving home, but
she saw him.
Congrats on the release, Sharon!
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