Down the Dirt Road (16 page)

    Momma never quite bounced back completely from Daddy’s sudden death.  If not for the regular visits from Uncle Tommy, Momma would never speak to another living soul other than Jennie.  He was her only contact with anything outside of the confines of their property.  Jennie couldn’t be sure but she thought Uncle Tommy and Momma might be a little more than grieving friends. 
Although she had never witnessed any inappropriate behaviors, Jennie knew Uncle Tommy had long had a crush on Momma and she would be a fool if she tried to convince herself that her uncle only dropped by to drink lemonade.  Especially since most of his visits occurred during the hours in which she was at work.

  It was no joke that Momma hadn’t left the farm since Daddy’s funeral.  In the two years since her husband’s sudden death, Elise Marshall had aged tremendously. It made Jennie sad to see her mother’s thin frame and gaunt
cheeks.  She fought back tears when Momma applied make-up; no amount of paint would cover the dark under-eye circles or the skin once ruddy from the sun that now hung pale and nearly transparent against her cheekbone.
  There was no denying that Momma had grown frail, almost sickly.  Perhaps Jennie needed to call Doc Hansen and  have him check Momma out.

     As she stood now, just inside the large double doors of the barn, she could hear her mother singing a lopsided tune about catching a fish while she rocked on the rickety old porch swing.

    “I’m sorry, Momma.”  She whispered.  “
I’m s
o sorry Daddy left you behind.  One day you will be together again.  Just not too soon, OK Momma?”

    The singing stopped and the lan
d fell almost deathly silent around her
.  Had Momma heard her words
?

    In a moment she caught the tinny strains of another tune, a hymn Momma had always loved.  Today would be a good day for her mother, singing always meant Elise was in a good mood.  Maybe she would even eat a decent meal today.

     The tall grasses in the pasture behind the barn waved gently in the wind.  Summer had been cooler than normal with a lot of rain.  After a while, Jennie
just
stopped trying to
keep the fields mown and without Old Bessie around the
grasses were up to
knee height on the back side of the pasture.

    
Nostalgia for her favorite pet washed over her.  It had been two years since Bessie had been struck down by lightening in a severe thunderstorm barely a week after her father had passed away.  That was also the day her father had appeared to her, made her promise to look after Momma and the farm.  She still, to this day two years later, couldn’t say if it had been real or imagined in the stress of the moment but that final glimpse of her father had changed her, given her the strength to do what needed doing.  So what if she gave up all her own dreams?  They had been selfish and unrealistic anyway.  Missing her senior year of high school had been a blessing really; she avoided all the embarrassment of seeing Trisha and her blossoming pregnancy, the well-meaning counselors stalking her to ‘talk about her feelings’ and the teachers who would have
watched her with sad, knowing eyes as they discussed the girl who’s daddy had died just before classes started. No, she didn’t regret missing out on all
that
fun, not for a single minute.

    A loud, piercing scream echoed across the yard.

   
MOMMA!

    Jennie took off at a run.
Halfway between the barn and the house h
er ankle turned in a rut sending her sprawling across the rock strewn driveway.  Her palms slid across the dirt, her knees banged hard against the packed ground
leaving
her left knee cap screaming in agony as it smashed against a sharp rock.  Scrambling to her feet she forced her injured knee to carry her across the open space and to the front porch of the house.  Blood streamed down her leg, her palms oozed as swiped them against her cut-off jeans.

     “Momma!”  She saw Daddy all over again, pale and crumpled on the bedroom floor when she turned the corner to the front of the house.  Momma
lay in an ungraceful
heap at the base of the porch steps, blood seeping from her temple and running down her cheek. 

    “Come on, Momm!  Please be OK!”  She scrambled around to the other side, located her mother’s limp arm and felt for a pulse.  It was weak and thread
y
but there.  “I’m gonna call for help Momma!  I’ll be right back!  Please, please don’t leave me.”

    
Skipping the family doctor, she quickly dialed 911 and gave the operator their location.
  Her voice shook and her knee throbbed.  The cut across her tanned skin was long and jagged.  Grabbing up a towel from the kitchen counter she wrapped it around the wound and hobbled her way back to where her momma lay on the ground.

     Careful not to jar her injured mother’s frail body, she dropped down on the ground beside her and sobbed.  “Please don’t leave me Momma!  I can’t do this on my own.  I need you to stay with me. 
Please, Momma!
”

     Sirens echoed down the dirt road announcing the approach of an ambulance and police cars.  It was late afternoon, the sun sat far to the west casting shadows from the tall oaks and pine trees across the entrance to the driveway from the road.  Red and blue lights became visible between the branches.  Momma groaned quietly but
didn’t stir otherwise.  Jennie prayed and begged God not to take her mother away from her.

     The ambulance slid to a stop in front of them kicking up a cloud of dust.  Jennie choked on the fine particles a
s she tried to jump to her feet.  The injured knee buckled and she fell forward arms grasping at the air trying to find something to stabilize herself with when a pair of strong arms grabbed her by the waist and held her steady.

     “There you go, Jennie Marshall.  You OK?”

     The familiar voice was as welcome as sunshine in May.

     “Grayson!  You have to help my mother, please!”

     “Let’s step over here and let the EMT’s take care of her, OK?”

      Her limbs shook as she allowed him to help her up the stairs and onto the porch.  She settled into Momma’s rocking chair and instantly began rocking back and forth a little faster than normal as she watched the EMT’s work on her mother.

      “She has to be OK, she just has to.”  The words were a whisper, her voice barely audible even to herself but Grayson must have heard her anyway.

     “What happened to your mom?”  He had removed a small notebook and pen from his shirt pocket, scratched a few notes to himself and then looked her in the eye.

     “I don’t know, I was in the barn.  I just heard her scream and came running.”

      He eyed the towel wrapped around her knee but said nothing.

     “She hasn’t been well since… since… since Daddy left.  So frail, so lifeless…”  Jennie buried her face in h
er hands and fought back a sob.  Through her fingers she caught sight of a pair of black boots, polished to a high shine.  Very different from the jeans, flannel shirt and works boots he had been wearing when they last saw each other nearly two years before.  In fact, G
rayson was dressed
all in
black uniform with sharp, starched pleats down the sleeves and the front of his pant legs.  A heavy belt loaded with a radio, flashlight, pistol and other necessary equipment hung low on his hips.  The shiny silver badge attached to the front of her uniform drew her eyes upward.

     “You’re a cop?”

     “I told you I was studying criminal justice in night school.”

      “Yeah, but I guess I didn’t think you would become a cop.”

      “What else should I have become?”  His tone was a little
sharp, an edge of irritation to
his words.

      “What?  Oh, I don’t know.  I didn’t mean…”
Suddenly remembering the reason for Grayson’s presence, s
he rose from the chair and hobble
d over to the rail of the deck. 
“How’s Momma?”  She called down to the emergency workers.  Her mother was strapped to a stretcher, an IV line already dripping saline solution into her veins.

    “She’s stable for now but we need to take her in.  She’s dehydrated and then there is the head injury.  Docs might want to watch her over night.”

      They were already lifting Momma
into the back of the ambulance as Jennie tried to fight her way pa
st Grayson who was as unyielding as a brick wall.

    “Let me go, Grayson!”  She pummeled his chest with her fists; a fruitless effort against his bullet resistant vest he
wore beneath the polyester of his uniform shirt.  “I want to go with Momma!”

    “Stop, Jennie!” 
His command was forceful
as he grabbed her wrists and held them both in one hand.  T
he
underlying
tone was
sympathetic
though
.
  He meant her no harm.
  “Let them go.  We can follow in my car.”

    There was no way to know what was wrong with her mother.  What if she didn’t make it to the hospital alive?  Jennie should be there with her, to hold her hand, tell her everything will be OK.

    “I want to go in the ambulance!”

    “Let them work, Jennie. 
An extra person in the ambulance will only keep then from doing what needs doin’.  You momma will
be OK
if you just let them do what they do
.  You could use a little medical attention yourself.  I will drive you to the hospital- following the ambulance the whole way.  We will get your knee looked at when we get there, too.”

   She blew off his concern with a wave of her hand.
 

  “My
knee is fine.
  It’s my mother I am concerned about.
”

 
Grayson dropped his deep voice low, placed a hand on her arm.  His dark eyes beseeched her
to let him help her
.  “It’s OK to trust me, Jennie.  I won’t let your mother out of our sight.  They need to tend to her and you need someone to take a look at your knee.  You won’t be any good to your Momma or anyone else if you get the staph or some flesh eating bacteria.”
   
    

     The word ‘trust’ hit Jennie hard right in the center of the chest.  For the past two years she had not relied on any one, had trusted no one but herself and her momma.  Mostly just herself.  Her heart had been closed off from the world for so long she wasn’t sure she could let someone help her for a change.  But Grayson Jennings, strong and caring, wanted her to trust him and for some reason she almost thought she could.  Unless it was his badge and his gun that she trusted?  What did it matter.  Someone wanted to take charge, take care of her for a change.  Would it really hurt to just let him take the lead?  Just this once?  He was a cop after all, his oath to protect and serve did extend to the Marshall farm at the end of the town’s last unpaved road, didn’t it?  

     “All right.  I’ll go with you.”  She conceded on a sigh.  “But you better be blarin’ your lights and sirens and don’t you dare lose that ambulance.”

    
The ambulance doors slammed closed as Jennie climbed into the front seat of Grayson’s police cruiser.  True to his promise, he never fell more than three car lengths behind the other vehicle.  Dusk had begun to fall as they drove to the small hospital on the other edge of town.  Jennie prayed her mother was OK but deep inside she knew something was wrong.  Something beyond an collapse on the steps or a bump on the head.  There was something else responsible for the weight loss, the pasty skin, the deep dark circles under her eyes.  Whatever it was went way beyond mourning the love of her life, deeper than the depression that Jennie was certain engulfed her mother like a cloud.  Something was going on that was responsible for the shaky steps, trembling hands and tremors in her voice.

    Jennie stared out the windshield, eyes focused on the ambulance in front of her as though all of her focus, all her energies would transfer to her mother and give her the
strength to fight whatever was going on inside her ailing body.

     About a mile away from the hospital Grayson got on his radio and called in their arrival.  By the time the two emergency vehicles pulled up in front of the acute care entrance, hospital personnel had gathered outside the door awaiting Elise’s entrance.  She was eternally grateful to Grayson in that moment. 

     As the police car pulled to a stop, Grayson jumped from the vehicle and came around to her side of the car.  He had the door open before she even had the chance to unsnap her seatbelt.

    Waving toward the door of the hospital he called out, “Can I get a wheelchair over here please?”

    “No!  No! I can walk, really!
  I don’t need a wheel…”

     She swallowed her words the second she tried to stand up from the car.  Her injured knee buckled and screamed as she tried to put weight on it.  Her body fell forward straight into the strong, muscular of Officer Jennings.