Down the Dirt Road (29 page)

    “You will always be my
child
whether you like it or not.  I spent a great many hours in labor for you, I think I have earned the right to call you whatever I like.”

    There was no winning the ‘do you have any idea how much I went through to deliver you’ argument.  Momma had long since decided that thirty six hours of pain and suffering were
well
worth a lifetime of complaints and reminders of how much she had endured to bring her only child into the world. 

   
And really, w
ho was she to argue?  Maybe the pain of childbirth did earn you the right to torment your offspring until the day that you died.  She could only hope to one day
have the chance to find out.  Of course, with her track record the future was beginning to look a little bleak.

    
Not as bleak as Grayson’s
. 

    Her stomach did a flip that ended in a series of tight knots at the thought of what he must be enduring wherever he was; days before Christmas in some awful detention camp.  Her heart ached at the very thought of it.

    “Momma?  Did Daddy ever go to war?”

    Momma paused in front of the sink, the empty tea kettle dangling from her right hand as her left reached up and toyed with the gold cross that hung around her neck.

    “Yes.”  Her voice was quiet.  Too quiet.  Jennie had to tread lightly.

    “Did…anything… well, did anything bad happen to him?”

      “I don’t know what you mean, Jennie girl?”

      “Was he …did he ever…. Did anything
bad
ever
happen to him while he was gone?
”

      Momma finished filling the copper tea pot and returned to the table to sit opposite Jennie.  The only sound in the
room the snap and pop of the water on the bottom of the tea kettle as the stove burner began to warm.

    “What do you mean, Jennie?  He was at war in a strange country that didn’t want us there.  I am fairly certain many bad things happened in his presence.”
    Jennie fidgeted with the salt and pepper shakers while they waited for her tea to be ready.  Momma didn’t seem very happy about this line of questioning, maybe there were things in her past she didn’t want anyone to know about.

    “I mean, was he ever injured?  Taken captive?”

     Momma’s face suddenly got very sad.   “What would ever make you think such a thing?”

    “I guess I’m just wonderin’ “

      “An odd sorta thing to be thinking of, don’t you think?”  Momma rose from her seat and busied herself loading the dishwasher with glasses and plates.  It was obvious she didn’t want to talk about it, but Jennie had to know. 

    “I guess but can you just tell me, Momma?  Did anything bad ever happen to daddy when he was in Vietnam?”  She knew she was pushing a sensitive subject but it was suddenly extremely important to her to have the answer.

   “Well, there was one thing; s
omething that I think changed him for the rest of his life.”  The tea pot whistled that it was done heating the water.  Momma poured two steaming cups of water on top of cranberry tea bags and carried the tea cups over to the table, placing on in front of Jennie and one where she sat.

    “He went AWOL once.”  Momma stirred her tea, giving the small tea bag a chance to saturate her cup with the strong taste of cranberries.  Her eyes focused on the liquid as she spoke.  Jennie watched Momma curiously, completely surprised by the answer.

    “AWOL?  Isn’t that like when you run away from the Army?”
    “Yes.”

    “But Daddy never ran away from anything.  It wasn’t his style.” 

    “Well, he left once.  Managed to get away for a good three months before anyone caught up ta’ him.”

       “But why, Momma?  That wasn’t how Daddy would have handled a problem.”

     “He didn’t know what else to do.”

     “But to run away?”

     “Look Jennie girl, war is an evil, horrible thing.  What your father witnessed- it was enough to …to…well, let’s just say he had to get away or he might very well have
… things wouldn’t have gone so good
for him in the end.”

     “Did he kill someone?”

      “NO!”  Momma slammed her hand down against the table so hard the tea in Jennie’s cup sloshed, spilling over the side.  She never made a move to get a cloth and mop it up.  She wanted…no
she
needed… to know what Momma was about to say.

    “So what
happened
?”
     “
He never killed anyone outside of battle.  But y
ou
r
father witnessed a great many evils in the time of war, Jennie girl.  Still he was a good man, he wouldn’t have hurt anyone.  That was why he ran away – to protect the others.”

     “What others?” 

       “The men who had done the terrible thing your father witnessed.  He could no longer
bear to see them every day.   So one morning he took shore leave and never looked back.”

     “What did the men do that was so horrible, Momma?”
     “They killed small children and women… for sport.”

     “That’s terrible!”  Jennie gasped the words as she fought down the overwhelming nausea the truth had stirred up.

      “Your father thought so too.  That was why he left.”

     “That’s terrible, Momma.  How come Daddy never talked about the war?”

    “It was too painful, sweet pea.  Every man has their demons.”

    “So he just kept it all to himself all that time?  Acted like nothin’ ever happened?  How did he live with himself?”   Jennie suddenly felt angry at her father for keeping such horrible secrets. He should have told someone!  Let the world know the human indecency those other men committed.
     “You need to watch yourself, girl!  You father was a good man!   War makes even the best of men do things they would have never thought themselves capable of.  You think all those boys wanted to be over there then?  Figthin’ in a
police action
even the government that sent them there was unwilling to acknowledge!”

     “What about now, Momma?  What about the war in Iraq?  It sure did seem to me that Michael and Grayson and all the other boys really wanted to go and fight that war.  The
y actually seemed
excited
at the parade.”

    “Jennie girl, war is a fact of life I’m afraid.  Good men don’t want to fight, they don’t be wantin’ to kill anyone but they will defend a belief and freedom, well that’s one worth fightin’ for.”

   Jennie sipped the piping hot tea Momma set down in front of her.  It seemed sort of backwards that one would have to fight to be free.  Shouldn’t freedom be an expectation- a birthright of sorts?

    “It’s just not right that our men, our husbands, fathers and brothers have to die for something that should inherently belong to everyone anyway.  Who decided that freedom was something tangible?  Who made freedom a thing that could be controlled as opposed to something that everyone just has?”

    Momma sighed at sat down at the table, folding her arms in front of her.  Jennie couldn’t help but notice how white
her mother’s fingers looked; they must be half frozen with cold.

    “As long as man has existed there has been a struggle for power.  Eve ate the apple because God told her not to.  Your Bible tells story after story of fights that go back as far as Cain and Able.  It’s human nature to want to be in charge.”

     “Well, it doesn’t make a scrap of sense to me!” 
The solid farmhouse styled table shook as she slammed her mug down on top of it.

     “Most things ‘bout human beings don’t make much sense, Jennie girl.  Like why you were out drivin’ around in a blizzard?”

    The subject change was obvious to Jennie.  Momma was done with the serious stuff.

    “I had to run an errand.”

    “In this rotten weather?”

    “I didn’t really have a choice…it was… it was a gift… for Christmas.”

     “And it just had to be delivered today?  There won’t be anyone expectin’ gift deliveries in the middle of a snow
emergency.  Where did you just absolutely hafta’ go today Jennie?
”

    Jennie felt like she was four years old again climbing on the counter to snitch a cookie from the cookie jar.  “
Jennie?  Were you on the counter?  I know you were girl, so it’d be best not to lie to your Momma.”

    
Momma’s stare was steady.  She may have weakened considerably in the months since Daddy’s death but her mind- and her eyes- were as sharp as ever.

   “Trisha’s.”  The single word, a name she hadn’t said out loud in the presence of others in a very long time, came out in a near whisper.

    “Did I hear you correctly?  You brought Trisha McKee a Christmas gift?”

     Hearing her mother speak Trisha’s married name struck a chord deep in her gut.  Envy and sadness washed over her. 
Trisha McKee
.  All the time that had passed since the day she came home from her grandfather’s ranch she had never once thought of her friend as Trisha McKee, wife of Michael McKee.  The name packed a punch she wasn’t prepared for.

     “Yes… no.”  She stammered over the urge to cry.

     “Well, which is it girl?  Yes or no?”  Momma almost seemed angry.  Had her mother felt Jennie’s pain so much that she was angry at the other girl for her selfish acts?  Was she now angry at Jennie for going there?  Boy, she was gonna love the rest of the story then.

    “Yes, I went there.  But the gift wasn’t from me.”

    “Who was it from then?”

     “Michael.”

     “Michael?  Why on God’s green Earth were you delivering a Christmas gift to Trisha from her husband?  Couldn’t he have just sent it directly?”

      “Yes, I suppose he could have, Momma but he didn’t.”
     “Is that what was in that box that came the other day?”  Confusion mixed with the annoyance in her mother’s eyes. 

      “That was part of it.”

     “Girl, I am slowly losing my patience with your cryptic answers.  That girl broke your heart and now you are playin’ delivery driver for her husband?  Who also broke your heart!”
      “There is more to it than that Momma.”

     “Grand.  Did he ask you to accompany her to the hospital when the next baby is born?”

      “Come on, Momma.  That’s not fair.  He … he just thought… well…”

     “Cat got your tongue, girl?”
     Momma was getting angry as she waited for Jennie to explain.  Momma hadn’t gotten angry at anything in so long, Jennie couldn’t help but be secretly pleased that her mother was getting in to life again.

     “
Grayson Jennings is
MIA.  He was taken prisoner by the enemy.  No one knows where he is or if he is even alive.”

     The words tumbled from her
mouth
like water from Niagara Falls.
  Momma’s expression turned to one of shock.  “Marla Jennings must be beside herself!  I must give her a call, see if there is anything I can do.  But what does that have to do with Michael using you to deliver his wife’s gift?”

    “I guess… well, while Grayson was away, he wrote letters to me…”

    “I don’t remember you mentioning any letters?”

    “I never got them.  At least, not until that box came.  When he went missing, Michael packaged them all up and sent them to me with a long letter pleading with me to make up with Trisha.  The gift was his ploy to get us face to face.”

    “Grayson Jennings wrote you letters he never sent?  I am confused.  Why would he do that?”

    Jennie sighed in resignation.  She was going to have to tell her mother everything.  “Several months before he left for the Army, Grayson asked me on a date.  Several times actually.  I … I always told him no but then I …ran into him at the parade before he left and well…Momma I think I he was in love with me!
  The letters, they were so …
sweet
!
” 

    Her head dropped to her arms folded on the table and she began to sob.
  Momma rose slowly from the table and made her way over to where Jennie sat.  A gentle hand on her back was soothing but not enough to wipe away all the pain and sadness of the past few years. 

    “There, there my little sweet pea.  I’m sorry I was so harsh.  I didn’t want to think of those two manipulating you
and hurting you again.  I had no idea all this has been going on and right under my own nose, too.  Why didn’t you ever tell me the Jennings boy was interested in you?  He is a sweet young man.”

    “Aw, Momma!  It doesn’t really matter now, does it?  He’s never coming home!  I can’t bear the idea of they are doing to him!  We never even had a chance to see… why didn’t he send me the letters when he wrote them?!”

     The feeling of being four again, wailing on her Momma’s shoulder as she nursed a skinned knee almost brought her comfort in an odd sort of way.  It did nothing to mend her breaking heart though.