Cattle Valley 27 - Alone in a Crowd (7 page)

Ryan was in the middle of clearing his desk before his flight to Oklahoma when Nate walked into his office. “I don’t have to leave for another hour.”
“I know.” Nate produced a magazine and slapped it on the desk in front of Ryan. “What do you think?”
Ryan studied the picture of the solar-powered blinking stop sign. He knew exactly what Nate intended, but he didn’t think new stop signs in town would help Grooper get over the death of his partner. “It’s a nice thought, but unless you replace every stop sign in town, I don’t think it’ll do the trick.”
Nate threw up his hands. “You told me to figure it out.” He pointed to the picture. “That’s me figuring it out.”
“No, I asked you to think of a way to get Grooper involved in the community. I think ninety-percent of his problem is being alone in a town where he hasn’t given himself the chance to get to know people.”
Nate dropped into the chair in front of Ryan’s desk and shook his head. “No, you told me to do something to get him driving again.” He stared at the magazine as if to say he’d done his job.
“Cattle Valley Days is coming up in another few months. Why don’t you ask him to serve on one of the committees?”
“I guess I could think of something, but the man’s in his late sixties.”
“Until a few months ago, he worked as a custodian. It’s not like he’s feeble or anything.”
“Fine. Fine. Fine. I’ll figure it out.”
Ryan stood and rounded the desk. “Thank you.” He bent down and gave Nate a kiss. “From what I understand, he didn’t even drink before his partner was killed. It’s still early enough. We might be able to pull him out of it before it’s too late.”
Nate stared at Ryan for several moments. “Does your sudden interest in saving Grooper have anything to do with your dad?”
Nate wasn’t the first to draw the link between Grooper and his dad, Ryan had been wondering the same thing. “Maybe. From what my mom said in those letters, Dad was really screwed up after coming home from Vietnam. Maybe if he’d had someone like you trying to help him, he wouldn’t have turned out the way he did.”
“I’m sure your mom tried to help.”
It was a nice thought, but not the case. “No, my mom indulged him in his insanity. Hell, she even joined him in it after a while, in the name of love, of course. God knows she couldn’t take responsibility for her own actions, she had to go and blame them on her love for him.”
Ryan heard the bitterness in his voice, but it was nothing compared to the anger he carried in his heart. “I’d better get home. I left a few things in the dryer that I still need to pack.”
“I wish I could ride to the airport with you and Rio, but I have a meeting with two of the contractors who’ve bid for the project at Second Chance Ranch.”
Ryan gave Nate another kiss. “I’m not big on goodbyes anyway. I’ll call you tonight when I land.”
“I know Rio told you to call us if you need to, but I want to make sure you know we’ll drop everything for you.”
Ryan pulled Nate to his feet. “Thanks, I do know that. The two of you have always been there for me.”

After sitting on a bench outside the nursing home for over an hour, Ryan finally stood and headed towards the twin sliding doors. He stepped up to the information desk and plastered on a fake smile for the employee’s benefit. “I’m here to see Benjamin Blackfeather.” He took a deep, calming breath. “I’m his son,” he admitted.

The older woman’s face lit up. “You must be Ryan.”
The fact that she knew his name threw him for several moments. “Yes.” “Imagine our surprise when the police informed us that you were still alive. Well, I

Ryan assumed it was because he’d never been to visit, but when the woman continued on, he was even more confused.
“Ben has always spoken of you in the past tense, which is understandable given his condition, but no one ever heard your mother correct him.” She tilted her head to the side. “Which is odd, don’t you think?”
“We didn’t get along,” he informed her, unwilling to say more. “May I see my father?”
The woman tapped something into her computer. “He’s at the doctors right now, but you’re more than welcome to wait for him in his room.”
“Which is?” Ryan prompted.
“Oh, sorry, room one-twenty-seven, right down that hall and hang a left.”
“Thanks.” Instead of going right to his dad’s room, Ryan took the opportunity to look around a bit. He glanced into the first big room he came to and found a couple of residents huddled around a television.
There were several tables scattered on the outskirts of the room in front of a long wall of windows. He noticed a small group playing cards and another lone man putting a jigsaw puzzle together. It seemed like a nice enough place, even if it did smell of disinfectant and old people.
Having seen enough, Ryan made his way down the hall to his father’s room, but once he got there, he couldn’t bring himself to go inside. Despite what the woman at the front desk said, Ryan wasn’t sure he’d be welcomed in his father’s personal space. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned his back against the wall beside the door.
For the first time since hearing the news that the nursing home staff thought he was dead, Ryan took a moment to let it sink in. From the letters his mom had written, he knew his father had suffered a massive stroke several years earlier, but had it honestly affected his dad’s memories to that extent? It, of course, was still no excuse as to why his mom had gone along with it. How could she spend her days pretending he didn’t exist only to sit down and pour her heart out in a letter once a year on his birthday? It didn’t make sense.
He heard a sound coming towards him and looked up from the industrial floor he’d been staring at. It took several moments, but Ryan eventually recognised the shuffling man as his father, being helped by a man in a set of light green scrubs.
Ryan straightened and took his hands out of his pockets. He waited for his father to recognise him, but when he walked by without acknowledgement, Ryan’s hopes were dashed. After his dad had entered his room, Ryan tapped the employee on the shoulder.
“I’m Ryan Blackfeather, Ben’s son.” He felt stupid announcing it, but wasn’t sure what else to do.
The employee, Steve Banks R.N., his nametag declared, looked as stunned as the woman at the front desk had. “Did he know you were coming?”
Ryan shook his head. “I just flew in from Wyoming last night.”
“Ben doesn’t do well with surprises. As a matter-of-fact, I don’t think he believed us when we tried to tell him you were still alive. He keeps insisting you died when you were six.” Steve gestured to the closed door. “He even showed me your picture, said it was the last you had taken before you left him.”
Anger filled Ryan. How dare his dad try to get sympathy for a dead son when he’d never cared about the real one who was still alive. “My father beat me stupid before kicking me out at the age of seventeen. He knows exactly who I am and what he’s done to me.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t believe he does. After the stroke, he remembered very little. It was your mom who supplied most of the memories he now clings to.”
Ryan refused to believe it. “I need to see him.”
Before he could push his way through the door, Steve stopped him. “Ben’s not the person you once knew. I’m sorry for what you went through, but I can tell you he’s one of my favourite patients. Always in a cheerful mood and ready to help anyone who needs it. The man you’re describing doesn’t exist anymore.”
It was an easy out for his dad, and Ryan knew it. “I want him to look me in the eyes. If what you say is true, I’ll be able to tell.”
Steve shook his head. “He’s dying, is it so important to prove he used to be a bastard?”
“What’re you talking about? He looked slower and older than the last time I saw him, but he sure as hell doesn’t look like he’s dying.”
“Ben has pancreatic cancer. Since your mom died, he’s refused all treatment, although he sometimes takes his pain medication, he tries to trick us and save it.”
“Why would he do that? He like pain or something?”
“He wants to hoard them so he can take them all at the same time.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “Although I understand his desire to end it quickly, we can’t let him do it.”
Ryan wasn’t sure how he felt about the news, but it didn’t change his mind. “I’d like to see him.”
“Let me go in first.” Steve entered the room. “Ben? You’ve got a visitor here to see you.”
“What?” Ben muted the television he was watching. “Who is it?”
Steve glanced over his shoulder at Ryan, obviously struggling with what to say.
Ryan stepped in front of Steve and stared down at his father. He gazed into the dark eyes of the man who had made his life hell and waited.
“Are you of my people?” Ben asked.
Ryan knew he was being asked if he was Cherokee, so he nodded, but his heart sank as he realised his father honestly didn’t recognise him. “I came to talk to you if that’s okay?”
Ben’s face lit up. “I don’t get visitors since my Sarah died.” He gestured to a small, straight-back chair in the corner of the room. “Do you like Gunsmoke?”
“I haven’t watched it in years.” Ryan carried the chair over and sat several feet away from his father.
“This is a rerun,” Ben said as if Gunsmoke was still on in primetime.
“I’ll leave you two to get to know each other,” Steve said before walking out of the room.
Ryan glanced around. There were a few personal touches here and there, but nothing that would mark it as his father’s, except the two pictures on the bedside table. “You mind?” Ryan asked, gesturing to the photographs.
“Not at all.” Ben stood and walked over to retrieve the pictures.
Although there was still a slight limp and the obvious paralysis of Ben’s left arm and hand, he seemed to get around okay for a man of his age. If Ben’s memories had been affected, it probably meant other parts of his brain had as well, but overall, his dad seemed to do okay. He doubted he needed to be in the nursing home and wondered why his mom had kept him there.
Ben handed Ryan one of the framed pictures. “That’s me and Sarah on our wedding day. We didn’t even have time for a honeymoon before I left for Vietnam.”
“How soon after the wedding did you leave?” Ryan thought of his mom’s letter when she told him his dad didn’t believe Ryan was his.
“Two days later. Got married on Saturday, shipped out on Monday.” Tears filled Ben’s eyes. “Worst day of my life.”
Ryan began to wonder how far back his father’s memories actually went. “You remember it?”
“I’ll never forget it. I knew a week after setting foot in that Godforsaken country that I’d never make it out alive.”
“But you did,” Ryan reminded him.
Ben wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose. “Parts of me did.”
“What happened when you got back to the States?” If Ryan’s math was correct, either he’d been a month overdue or his mom had lied to both of them.
Ben shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket. “You don’t need to hear about all that. Let’s just say the war followed me home.” He stood and carried the photographs back to the bedside table without talking about the picture of Ryan as a boy. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m feeling tired.”
Without another word, Ben disappeared into the bathroom. Ryan stood and walked over to the table. He picked up the picture of himself and stared at the boy he used to be. Trying to remember, Ryan racked his brain for his first memories of his father. He tapped the picture with his finger. He was right around the age of the boy in the picture, but that couldn’t be right because he remembered his mom being drunker than shit most days when he’d get home from first grade. As a matter-of-fact, they’d almost held him back that year because he’d missed so much school trying to take care of her.
Ryan heard the toilet flush and set the photograph down. He left his father’s room and walked straight out of the building. Once he made it to his rental car, Ryan sat behind the wheel and tried to remember more of his early years. He knew in his heart he couldn’t go home until he discovered the truth about his past.

In his hotel room, Ryan powered up his laptop. He’d have to pay the required fee for internet use, but it was safer than going to a public WiFi spot where someone could look over his shoulder. He hadn’t realised until he’d thought about it long enough, but he’d never bothered to look into his family.

He still remembered the day he’d been forced out of his parent’s house with barely the clothes on his back. Unlike some gay kids, he hadn’t been kicked out because he was a homosexual, hell, he wasn’t sure his parents had even cared enough to notice his sexual orientation. Nope, he’d been kicked out for two reasons. The first being that his dad could no longer stand the sight of him, and the second because after the last beating his father had handed out, Ryan had punched him back. He’d known in that moment that one of them would end up dead if he stayed.

Although Ryan had access to criminal files, he decided to start with Google. He typed in his father’s full name and hit enter, three results that mentioned his father came up, two from the local newspaper and one from the paper in Oklahoma City.

Ryan pulled up the first link and read an article about his father being listed among a group of men presumed to have been taken as prisoners of war. It was news to him. Ryan’s mother hadn’t mentioned it in her letters. He remembered the far-off glaze in his father’s eyes when he’d mentioned being sent off to Vietnam.

According to the article, an entire squad of soldiers had been ambushed during a patrol. Seven of the eleven men had been found dead while the remainder were believed to have been captured and taken alive. Other than basic information on his father, that was all the article said.

Ryan pulled up the next article and read about Benjamin Blackfeather’s return to Tahlequah after over five years in a POW camp. Ryan sat back in his chair and stared at the screen. He wished the article went into more detail, but the Vietnam War hadn’t been a popular subject back then.
Five years.
He took a deep breath. He couldn’t imagine what that would do to a man.

No, actually Ryan did know what that could do to a man. He tried to put himself in his father’s shoes. After five years of trying to survive, he’d come home to a broken down trailer, a drunk of a wife and a kid he didn’t even know he had. Not that it excused the things Ryan’s dad had done, but it did help Ryan understand how it could’ve happened. The soldiers returning from the current war received praise and understanding from the public as well as access to therapists and doctors if they needed, but from what he knew of Vietnam, the opposite had happened when the soldiers returned home. “Shit.”