Excessica Anthology BOX SET Winter (96 page)

"They
were here too, babe. But they just asked a few questions and left. When you get
the time maybe we can talk some more."

"But
I....oh...you...oh, okay. Jesus, dad, I'm really sorry I got you involved in
this. I had no idea..."

"Not
to worry, girl, it has given me something to really think about. Not your
fault."

"Dad,
I love you...be careful, okay?"

"Love
you too, I will. Let me hear from you, soon...okay?"

"Bye..."

"Bye..."

Nothing
much happened over the next several days; the weather broke and spring arrived,
not gently, but with a sudden wind shift, and warm tropical air rushed up from
the Gulf of Mexico and blanketed the Carolina countryside.

There
is a medium sized family-owned supermarket that I shop at, because it is near
and I can walk to it. I need the exercise. My little red Toyota, after running
perfectly the 2800 miles from Oregon decided to be temperamental and refused to
run. It would turn over, start and run for a few seconds and quit. I put it in
the garage and left it there; that was almost six months ago.

I
either walked or rode a girl's ten-speed that, with a half a can of WD-40, was
quickly in working condition again. The bike was left in a corner of the garage
by a previous owner or renter. I didn't think they would mind.

I
like my beef steak aged, you know, turning a little brown in the meat case.
Dorine the butcher, knew that and when she removed a package from the display,
she marked it down and saved it for me. I had written an article on the market
and included a photograph of her and the manager and his father when I first
started writing for the local newspaper. She always treated me nice when I
shopped. On this spring day she had a frown and a concerned look on her face.
"Heard about your little run in a while back, whole town knows. The girl
is alright, they caught the guy. Ahm, Mr. Dean, Wes. ah...do you think you
could talk to Janie? She has been really down and won't talk to anyone. I would
really appreciate if you would try..."

I
took the cellophane wrapped 12 ounce New York strip, put it in the little red
carry basket I always used and shopped and thought until I saw that Janie's
aisle was empty.

"Hellooo
gorgeous...!" I smiled and plunked the basket on the checkout counter. I
got a wan little smile in return as she reached down and began running my
selections through the scanner.

When
I first arrived in this town, nearly two years ago, I thought the people were a
bit stand-offish, not outwardly very friendly. The market and Janie were
different. I always got a smile. One time in particular, Janie who is five-six
or seven and her dark haired friend, a smaller girl, maybe five-one or two,
were chatting, like teen-aged girls do, and flirting with the stock-boys and
the customers, tossing hair and fluttering eyelids. A stocky man with sparse
sandy hair lifted up a little blond haired girl, maybe four years old onto the
counter as he unloaded his shopping cart. The little girl looked back and forth
focusing intently on the two older girls as they giggled and twittered, moved
their hands and bodies in girlish ways. I went back home and wrote a poem:
'Watching what the big girls do.' A few days later I printed it out and left a
copy for Janie and her friend.

That
was pretty much my relationship with Janie who I thought was in college and her
friend Raven who was in college. Janie, when I first met her was only sixteen,
but I did not know that at the time.

She
is a pretty young woman, sand colored hair with reddish tints, sparkling blue
eyes and a models figure, tall and thin, maybe 120 pounds, perky uplifted
breasts and hips not yet filled out woman style. Just a delightful girl to
glance at and smile at; I always treasured her open smile.

Then,
late last summer, she was not in the market for several days so, I asked if she
was on vacation or something. It turned out she had been swimming in a bay and
was hit by a speedboat. They had to amputate her right leg at the knee.

I
felt a sadness beyond expression. A lovely young person so alive and vital, so
cheerful and optimistic about her future... Why her? She came back to work at
the market several weeks later. She looked pale and drawn and an ugly black
carbon fiber prosthetic glared forth where her lower leg had been.

But
she had smiled at me and let me put an arm around her shoulder. I squeezed just
enough to tell her all I could in that short instant then pulled away.

But
I was amazed. She did not let it outwardly affect her. She continued school and
worked her regular schedule at the market, even told me she went off to a
concert two hundred miles away with her boyfriend.

The
months went by and I slowly put my worries aside; that it would ruin her life,
that she would lose hope. She just kept on smiling in her own special way.

But
not today... She finished checking my groceries and held her hand out for the
twenty I fished out of my pocket. I took hold of her hand and she raised her
eyes to mine, blank eyes...empty eyes. Then a question appeared on her face as
she blinked and realized I had her hand in mine.

"I
wrote you a poem, a while back..."

She
tilted her head and nodded slightly, just once.

"Can
I talk to you when you get off work?"

"Why?"

"You
owe me for the poem."

"I
do?"

"Won't
hurt to talk...will it?"

She
lowered her eyes. "N..no...I guess not..."

"About
eight...?

"Eight
fifteen...maybe twenty...I have to cash out."

"You
driving...?"

"Yes."

"You
trust me?"

There
was a hint of the old Janie in her eyes, "Yeah, sure, I trust you.
Why?"

"Something
I want you to see."

She
tilted her head again and shrugged her shoulders. "Okay, I guess..."

The
black prosthetic had been replaced by a state of the art, flesh colored device,
foot and all, unless you knew, you couldn't tell. She could stand and walk but
with a limp.

She
came out of the market with her purse hung over her left shoulder and a walking
stick in her right hand. I followed her to her car.

"I
didn't think I would ever learn to drive again with this damned thing."
She said as she backed out of the market parking lot and pulled out onto the
street. "Which way...?"

I
directed her out of town, across a bridge and out into the countryside.

"This
is the road to the high school."

"Yep,
slow down, make the next right, it's not much farther."

She
sat silent as I opened the gate and motioned her to pull her car inside. I
walked back alongside and she rolled down the window. "We have to go on
foot from here..."

"We
do...? Why?"

"Still
trust me?"

She
hesitated for just an instant. "Well, yeah, I guess, but this is kinda
weird."

"I
know; I'm sorry. We can go back if you want to."

I
took her hand as she got out of the car. She fumbled for her purse and the
walking stick. I took a flashlight from my jacket pocket and focused it on the
driveway in front of her.

She
took a step and then looked up, out in front of her. "It's too early in
the year for fireflies...?"

I
stopped alongside her. "Yes, it is."

"You're
freakin' me out!" There are no lights on in that house. Where are we? What
is this place?"

I
reached out and put my hand on top of her hand that grasped the walking stick.
"I guess you just have to trust me, Janie. Nothing bad will happen to you,
I promise."

She
didn't say anything and when I took a step forward, she came alongside and we
walked slowly toward the dark structure accompanied by flits of light all
around us.

Inside,
I found her a place to sit and lit some candles and clicked the flashlight off.
She remained quiet, watched me move about the room and then gazed about the
enclosure and then fixed her eyes on me.

"My
mom asked you to talk to me."

"Yes,
she did."

She
fidgeted on the straight-back wooden chair and looked away from me. "My
boyfriend...we're engaged...been going together forever...he's been so good to
me...considering...he went dancing last weekend...without me..."

"I'm
sorry."

"I
don't blame him, I'm a Crip' now, not such a prize anymore."

"You
are a beautiful young woman, Janie...you have done so well...considering..."

"Yeah,
thanks...I thought so too."

I
stood up and paced back and forth in front of her. "I was so sad when I
learned what happened. I wanted to offer something, words...a poem, anything to
help. But you were doing so well, I quit worrying about you. I thought with all
your family and friends and I knew you had a boyfriend, I thought it was going
good for you."

"I
can't dance...I can't run...I won't be able to chase my babies around the park,
if I ever have any."

"College...?"

"I
start next semester, I graduate from High School pretty soon."

"Aren't
you excited about that?"

"Yeah,
I was, maybe I am, I dunno anymore...why did you bring me out here?"

I
kept pacing and kept silent. Why had I really brought her out here...well, I
mean I knew, but who am I to interfere...to maybe change some ones' life. Now I
wasn't sure of anything.

"Mr.
Dean...?"

"Janie...something
happened to me here...something really strange. Can I tell you about it? I
haven't told anyone."

"Well,
sure, I guess, I mean, well...I just don't understand...any of it."

I
stopped pacing and turned and looked into her face; the flickering candle light
left moving shadows under her eyes and on her neck. She had leaned the walking
stick against her leg and her hands folded in her lap.

"It's
not all that bad is it? I mean what you want to tell me?"

"Not
bad, Janie, but very strange, frightening in a way and I am not sure I should
tell you"

"Go
ahead. It's okay. You've made me feel better already, just wondering what the
big secret is."

So
I told her, all of it; from when I first read the files and the FBI, to the man
who was cured of blindness.

She
gasped, "I know him...I heard about that...it's really true?"

"I
think so, yes."

She
shook her head slowly back and forth and readjusted her body in the
uncomfortable chair. "Wow! Like a miracle or something?"

"Yes,"
I answered slowly, "there is more."

"More?"

"Janie,
a couple of months ago I decided to walk out here, instead of riding my bike.
It tired me out; my legs were aching and I was getting short of breath. I made
it into the house, over there to that table and I felt a pain in my chest and I
couldn't catch my breath..."

"Ohhh...Mr.
Dean...that must have been terrible. What happened?"

"I
remember slowly leaning over the table and my forehead bumping and then my nose
and that is the last I remember until the next morning."

She
stared at me and opened her mouth to speak but said nothing.

I
looked away from her. "I was flat on my back on the table, naked as a
jaybird when I opened my eyes at the sunlight streaming in the window. I was
startled, to say the least, as I tried to remember what had happened. Then I
took a deep breath, I mean a really deep breath, something I haven't been able
to do in years...and my whole chest felt different, lighter. I sat up, not the
way I usually do, with a struggle and a groan to get old bones moving, but I
sat straight up like a healthy young man full of vigor."

"Ohhh..."

"And,
Janie...I could see...without my glasses. I have very bad eyesight, always have,
since I was a kid, but I could see clearly everything in that room, sharp,
clear, in focus."

"You
were healed! Cured of the heart thing and your eyes...and...oh, my..."

"Do
you believe in God, Janie?"

"Of
course I do! Well...I wondered why he has made me suffer so much. I wonder why
I had to lose my..." She bowed her head as if in prayer. "I wonder
why God did this to me. What did I do to deserve this?" She banged the
walking stick on her artificial leg and then threw the stick to the floor and
started crying and sobbing.

I
moved quickly to her, knelt down and put my arms around her and let her cry it
out. It took several minutes for her to quiet down and sit up; I left my arms
loosely around her shoulders as she looked into my eyes.

"I
know why you brought me out here."

"Yes."

"I'm
scared, Mr. Dean, really scared."