This is from my e-book Destination.
From the chapter titled Light in the Darkness
Seemed like no matter how early or late he went to sleep at night, he would wake up at or right around 5 AM. But just the same with the summer sun seeping through the white pine shutters into the shadows of his magnificent room, he reached over to the nightstand and checked his new pocket watch. Five o’ five. He’d always wanted a pocket watch, even as a kid, but he’d never had one until he got out of prison. He hated the sound of the words “out of prison”, but it was foolish to deny the reality. Besides, it hadn’t all been bad. And he knew shortly upon arriving there he had a debt to pay. Funny thing was he learned he couldn’t pay it. Ever.
He got up and took another shower, so thankful he could in the privacy of this splendid home. He was ready to work, to get his hands dirty, his muscles sore, to sweat. Sweating would be no problem in this eastern Washington desert heat. He put on a pair of his oldest worn jeans and another T-shirt to start with, and he walked out to the kitchen barefoot. He wasn’t sure what to expect from Grams at this early hour, but he suspected she might be up and about, and he was right about that.
“Mornin’, son. You an early riser?” A hint of humor danced in her voice.
He looked at her expression. “You don’t think this is early, Grams?” He smiled at her.
She took a drink of her Coca Cola. “Ah, I suppose it’s not late,” she conceded. “You know how hot it gets here so early in the mornin’ and all. Truth is I just can’t sleep past four, you know? That Lord is pretty persistent about me tending to my prayer time. He gives me an extra half hour in the wintertime—big of Him, huh?” She laughed.
Thomas smiled at the petite woman, feeling better than he’d felt since . . . maybe since he was a boy comin’ over here to visit all the time.
“Coke?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” A woman after his own heart. “I can get it.”
“No foolin’ you can,” she said matter-of-factly. “Look, Tommy, I’m only goin’ to say this once,” she began with a look that could’ve brought a soldier to attention.
He stopped in his tracks.
“Everything in this kitchen belongs to you and me. You want something to eat—you fix it or look for it or ask where it might be. When we go into town to get groceries or anything else for that matter, I expect you to get what you want as well as what you need, and don’t be askin’ me if it’s alright. I ain’t your momma. Turns out I’m your friend—in fact, I’m more like your sister, you know? In the Lord? So, you and me are goin’ to live here for as long as you want to or as long as you need to, and you’re goin’ to have everything you need to live your life while you’re here. It’s nice havin’ a man in the house again. I raised two sons and had a helluva man—pardon my French, Lord—for a husband. The Lord Jesus has kept me company since, and it’s been good, but I figure He knew when I needed a friend again, and He sent you, Tommy. So, don’t go gettin’ all syrupy about bein’ here and bein’ in my debt—I won’t stand for it.” She actually tapped her cane on the floor to emphasize her point. “Now I know I called you hired help yesterday, and, believe me, I’m goin’ to put you to work. Stupid darn hip goin’ out left me in a fix tryin’ to get some things done, so I’m happy to have your help. But this thing between us is more than just boss and servant—you got that?” and she glared over at him.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Now I know with your kind of conscience, it ain’t goin’ to be easy at first gettin’ all comfy cozy here right off the bat, but I ain’t kiddin’ ya when I say make yourself at home. This ol’ place has been empty and way too quiet for too long. I expect you to live here, you understand?”
“Alright, Grams,” he said quietly. “I’ll try.”
Grams softened a bit. “Son, I don’t know what all happened to ya over there in Seattle, but it’s over. You better start livin’ your life anew now because, let me tell ya somethin’,” and she paused and took in a breath. “You of all people know that sometimes it just up and goes away. Life is a precious thing, Tommy. We only got so many days. Make the most of ‘em, son, because if ya don’t, your time here has all been wasted. The Lord has somethin’ special for you, Tommy. Mark my words. He does. So you better be settin’ your mind to findin’ out what that somethin’ is or you’ll be miserable for the rest of your days. You hear me?”
“I do.”
“Alright, let’s drink our coke, and then we’ll get started with our work for the day. Sound good to you?”
“Yeah, Grams,” and he managed another smile.
They sat at the kitchen table and drank their cokes as Grams outlined their day.
“I figure we got about six hours of work before it gets too darn hot. Then we’ll head into town and do a little shoppin’. I’ll introduce ya around so you can come and go in town without gettin’ the ‘looks’, you know? Like a stranger? Then I’ll give ya my list of supplies, and you can pick ‘em up for me after ya drop me off at the church for awhile. That way I can get some stuff I need to do there done while you’re takin’ care of the shoppin’. That sound alright?”
“Fine. Sounds good, Grams.”
“Alright then. Let’s get started,” she said, standing and downing the last of her pop.
Thomas did the same and excused himself to go put his shoes on.
“I smash these cans for the kids at church. They recycle ‘em,” she informed him upon his return. “I keep ‘em in a special bag under the sink here,” she said, opening the cupboard and pointing with her cane to a separate garbage bag. “Until I have enough to make it worthwhile to go out to the garage and crush ‘em and put ‘em in the garbage can with church initials on it.”
Thomas bent down and deposited their two cans and lifted the sack. It was half full. He took it out. “I’ll get them before we go into town,” he offered.
“Suit yourself. Follow me.” She strutted to the back entrance of the house which went through the large laundry room. “Anytime you need to, here’s the machines. Feel free to use ‘em day or night.”
There was an ironing board set up in there with a fancy iron sitting upright and unplugged plus a state of the art washer and dryer, both big load sizes.
“No dogs, Grams?”
Sadness crossed her expression. “Ol’ Colonel died about a month before you got here. He was a year old when Ace went on. Too young for a man to die. Too young for a dog to die, too. Big dog or not. That one hurt. No more for me.” She hesitated. “But if you see fit to have one, you go right ahead. Nothin’ wrong with a man havin’ a dog. You’re welcome to keep him in here, too. Just don’t get one of them yappers, son. It might have to come up missin’ one day, you know?” She grinned a mischievous smile.
He held up a hand. “Gotcha. Don’t worry about that.”
She giggled a bit. “Yeah. Don’t quite picture you as the type to have one of them girly dogs.”
Thomas laughed out loud at that and followed her outside.
She poked and jabbed her cane as she walked a cement path to the huge barn that had been built to both house and work on farm equipment as well as keep tons of hay. There was still about two ton of hay in the barn, but that wasn’t much.
She noticed him looking at the small amount. “The people who lease the fields have to find their own storage for the hay. They’re under contract to keep me supplied with whatever I need, which isn’t much overall. I just keep a few beef and two horses.”
She saw his eyes light up for the first time since he’d come and a half-smile crossed her mouth. “You wanta ride, Tommy?”
“Wow, Grams. It’s been awhile, but, yeah, sometime I think I would, if you don’t mind.”
A terrible frown appeared on her face.
“I mean, when it’s convenient—with work and all,” he stammered.
She walked out behind the barn to a long high pile of logs. “We need to get as much of this cut and stacked as we can for the winter. Nothin’ quite like wood heat to make your bones warm in this frigid country, you know? Oh, don’t get me wrong, son, we got a great heatin’ system in that house, but it’s nice to sit around with a fire burnin’ in the evenin’ or on one of those dark days, you know?”
“I bet,” he agreed. “So, where does it need to be stacked, Grams?”
“Ol’ Ace built a large woodshed with access from the house right next to the laundry room. He was a master designer, tryin’ to make everything handy-like. I miss that ol’ son of a gun.” She turned and went back inside the barn and pointed with her cane to a small Kubota forklift. There’s how you get the wood to the house to stack. See that big box over there with the hinges? It sits right on them tines and you just drive it up to the door, drop that little hinged door and load it all into the wood room. Then the rest just stack over there by that wall,” she pointed again with her cane.
“You better hope you need that cane a little longer, Grams. How else are you gonna get your point across? No pun intended,” he tried to say without smiling.
She hid her own smile best as she could, but she swatted him lightly with the cane just the same. He put his arms over his head in mock defense.
“You’re just like a kid brother, aren’t ya, smart aleck?” She threw the words back at him as she stomped off. “Anyway, there’s the road you take for the forklift to the house. Now, I’ll show ya what and how to feed the beef, but that’s my chore, and I intend to keep doin’ it,” she said, defiance in her tone.
Afterward she showed them the nice sheds for the two horses and the trough for their water. “We’ve got the best well in the whole county, I think. It’s deep and the water is plum good and lots of it. Ace has this trough on an automatic system he designed. He’d just shut it off when he needed to clean it.” She looked in the trough. “I just cleaned it a few days ago, so it ain’t too bad. They haven’t been kickin’ up a bunch of dust or it would be.” She instructed him on how to clean it and turn the system back on.
“Probably better get someone to ride with ya when ya go cuz that ol’ knot head gelding just goes plum nuts when the mare gets outa his sight. Both of ‘em are real nice to ride, but they like to go together.” She thought for a minute. “I know someone who might like to go with ya. Anyway, we got so much good pasture for ‘em right now, they don’t need nothin’ else. That’s why you can’t see ‘em right now. They’re over the hill there somewhere. Come winter, we’ll make sure they get enough to keep ‘em warm.”
She set her course on the chicken coop next. Thomas followed diligently.
“I’m happy to give up this chore, I’ll tell ya. Stupid dang chickens—sorry, I’m not a big fan of the goofy things. Samuel, of all people, really liked ‘em. When he’d come home on leave, he couldn’t wait to take care of the chickens. If it wasn’t for the fresh eggs, they’d be gone the heck outa here, I can tell you that. And I ain’t much for killin’ ‘em, so they get to die of old age around here. When that last rooster died, that was it for the male folk in this coop. Idiotic things crowin’ all the time. Ace thought ya had to have ‘em to keep the ladies happy. They lay just as many eggs as they ever did without that ol’ cuss of a rooster, and who gives a rip if they’re happy or not.” She paused and looked down at the dirt and grass around the large and well protected enclosure for the chickens.
Her expression took on a more serious look. “I send the beef out to be slaughtered. That’s just about as hard as it gets, too. I think that’s why I feed ‘em. I want ‘em to have the best life they can have before it’s over. And there’s none of that torturin’ ‘em either. Ol’ Marv Easton assures me it’s quick. He’s not into makin’ an animal suffer none. After all, he said they’re givin’ their lives for us. No sense in makin’ it hard on ‘em. You’ll like ol’ Marv. He’s a good man.” She said it almost reverently. “He was real close to Ace and the boys.” She turned back toward the barn.
“I reckon that wood’ll keep you busy for awhile. Once I introduce you to the folks I do business with, I’ll have you take the one ton into town to get feed and whatever else we need. Now that you’re here to take care of some of my chores, I’ll catch up on some of the Lord’s work at the church. Course you’ll be drivin’ me and pickin’ me up sometimes but not always.”
“That’s fine, Grams.”
“Anyway, I’ll leave you to your work. All the tools you’ll need are right inside that room over there.” She pointed again after stepping inside the massive structure which made her look even tinier. “There’s a clock in the office over there. Why don’t ya knock off about noon and come clean up so we’ll have plenty of time in town?”
“Alright, Grams. Noon it is. You’ll be at the house?”
“Yep. Might be out in front with the flowers if you don’t find me in the kitchen.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, land sakes! Almost forgot. Dang old age,” she muttered as she reached into her jeans’ pocket. “Here, son. This here is the key to the door down the hall from your room and around the corner. It’s your own private entrance. This here’s the one to the front door, and you just flip it over to use it in the back door at the laundry room. I’ll give ya one of the garage door openers for your rig when we leave today and keys to the car and truck. Might as well park yours in the garage, too. This here’s the one to the door leading into the garage on the far side of it. We never used to have to lock the doors, but like the Bible says, these are the last days, and there’re always those folks who want what they can’t have unless they work for it. Lost souls, you know. Anyway, now you’re set.”
Wanting to say more, he settled for a thank you.
She walked out of the barn, and Thomas went into the tool room to get what he needed. He marveled at the Jonsered chain saws, the mauls, the wedges, and axes. Clearly, this was a regular activity at this ranch. The thought struck him—how in the world did that tiny wisp of a woman operate a chain saw that probably weighed at least half of what she did? No way, but knowing her, he couldn’t quite convince himself she wasn’t somehow capable of it.
As he readied himself for the task, he could feel the heat grabbing a hold of him. In spite of not being used to its intensity, he welcomed it. He’d work, and he’d sweat. Later on he’d be sore. He smiled. Sure beats the heck out of a shirt and tie and no windows in his office. He fueled the heavy chain saw and took it out to the logs, firing it up.
Father, I can't thank you enough for the inspiration, characters, words, stories, the works. Apart from you, I can do nothing. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
Into the Fire 