Down the Dirt Road (35 page)

      “You have beautiful babies.  I can see you are exactly where you are meant to be and I am happy for you but I can’t be friends with you again.  I just can’t.  You have to understand that.”

     Trisha reached out and touched her on the arm.  Jennie resisted the urge to pull away but just barely.  “I do understand.  I really do.  I will just hope and pray that one day you will change your mind.  Thank you, by the way for delivering the gift from Michael.  Do you want to know what was in it?”

     Jennie shrugged her shoulders.  She really didn’t care but somehow saying so didn’t seem quite right.  Instead she dropped her purchases on the conveyor belt and waited for the cashier to give her a total.

     “It was a picture of you and I together.  I don’t know where he got it from but it sure did bring back old memories.”  Moisture gathered in the corner of her eyes.  Jennie paid for her items and picked up the bag the cashier offered to her.

     “Hmmm…. That’s nice,”  she muttered as she began to walk away.

     “They are coming home, you know.”  Jennie froze. 
They? 
Had the military found Grayson?  Was he coming home?

     “Michael… and the rest of his unit.  They will be here on Saturday.”

      Jennie turned slowly around.  She was almost afraid to ask.  “All of them?”

     Sadness immediately clouded over Trisha’s crystal blue eyes.  “No.  They will be missing one.”

     The words hung there between them as Jennie tried to digest them.  The military was giving up.  His unit was throwing in the towel.  Grayson Jennings was about to become one more casualty of war.  Jennie turned and sprinted from the store, praying she would make it her car before the tears came again.

    “I’m so sorry, Jennie!!”  Trisha called after her, the familiar words haunting her with all the times Trisha had begged her forgiveness over the years.

    When she arrived home ten minutes later having driven way faster than she should have down the old dirt road, she skidded her car into its spot next to Daddy’s old truck.  The old tarp she had thrown over it a couple of winters ago had begun to fray and flap in the spring breeze.  Something really needed to be done with that thing.  Someday. Soon.  But not today.  She was in no mood to even think about it today.  She had to see the morning paper.  If Trisha was right there would be a story in the paper announcing their return.  She needed to know if Trisha was right.  Were they really leaving Grayson, one of their very own behind?

   The paper was perched on the top step of the proc hint he same place old man Dickens had tossed it for twenty years.
  Grabbing it up, she tore open the bag and dropped everything but the front page on the porch.  There it was.
Local Heroes Return Home
.  Big black letters headlined the sheet of newsprint.  Skimming the article quickly, she saw no mention of Grayson Jennings or what the Army was doing to bring him home.  A tiny little square on the bottom of the page was all that paid tribute to him in a short listing of soldiers killed or missing in action from the state of Virginia since the war had begun.

   Letting the paper slip to the ground she dropped into Momma’s rocker.  Across the yard a finch chirped incessantly while a blue jar swooped past her nest several times. 
Survival of the fittest.
  They had learned about that in biology class.  The strongest species or the strongest member of a species would survive over weaker members.  The blue jay was an aggressive bird looking to feast on a tiny finch egg.  Grayson was strong, had all the skills to survive.  If that little finch could protect her unborn brood
couldn’t he find a way to escape his captors and come home with the rest of the guys?

    What was she thinking?  War was not the same as nature.  Guns did not compare to beaks and claws.  She dropped her head in her hands and cried some more.  She had to stop crying soon.  The roller coaster of emotions over the past several months was exhausting and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

     Sitting up and leaning back against the rocking chair, she closed her eyes and tried to blur out any thoughts of Grayson or Trisha or Michael.  In a few days, Michael and Trisha would be reunited, their little family intact and she, Jennie Marshall would be all alone again.

    “It’s OK, Jennie girl.  You are going to be just fine.  Just fine indeed.”

      Her eyes flew open and she looked all around.  She was alone.  It must have been her desperate imagination.  She relaxed
against the back of the rocker again, letting her lids droop closed in exhaustion.

    “Your young man is strong, sweet pea.  You wait and see.  Everything is going to be just fine.”

     “Daddy?!”  She jumped from the rocker, turning in circles looking everywhere.  It had been the voice of her father, she was sure of it!

   Either that or she was losing her mind…a very viable option in the present days.

   Resigning herself to the fact that she was alone on the porch she dropped back into the chair and rocked slowly.  The voice, whether it was real or not assure her that everything was going to be all right.  She had to believe that.  Grayson was strong, physically and emotionally.  If anyone could survive it was him.  If she talked to herself long enough maybe she would believe the things that she was saying.

29.

     The rest of the week passed quickly.  Despite not having a job to go to everyday, Jennie found plenty of things to do to keep her mind and hands occupied.  By Saturday she had been dancing around the idea all week.  Something had to be done with Daddy’s old truck.  A few calls to local junk yards proved fruitless, she would have to have it towed there herself and Uncle Tommy was out in West Virginia for a couple of weeks checking out new livestock.  For a while she thought maybe Momma would go with him on the trip, she really seemed to want to when she mentioned it to Jennie.  But in the end Elise gave into the fear of the
unknown and opted to stay home where she felt safe and protected. 

   On Saturday morning, once the animals were fed and sent out to pasture, Jennie stood in the driveway studying the old blue monster and considering her options.  There was no way she was going to be able to drive the truck away.  The beast wouldn’t even turn over.  A little research on the internet told her that it could be something as simple as a new battery or as complicated as a starter or alternator.  The truck was so old, computers barely existed when it was made so she knew that wasn’t a concern.  If she could just figure out how to get it started maybe she could sell it.  Lord knew they could use the money.

    A trip t
o
the auto parts store in town
was on her agenda first thing. The internet told her what type of battery the monster needed, it was different than what the cars used now but if she were lucky, Mack could order her what she needed if he didn’t have it in stock.

     She completely forgot about the reception planned for the returning soldiers in the town square until she pulled up in front of
Mack’s Auto Parts
.  A small park sat in the very
center of town, directly across from the auto store.  On that morning, the school marching band was belting out
God Bless America
.  Flags waved in the breeze,  people cheered and clapped.  It seemed everyone in town had crowded into the little park to welcome their hometown heroes.

     From a distance she could see the group of men clad in their dress green uniforms.  Even from where she stood she could see how sharp they looked.  Michael McKee, standing taller than all the others
seemed to catch her eye. She turned away quickly and went into the store.

    “Hey Mack!”  She called out.  Joe “Mack” Mackenzie had been her father’s best friend his entire life.  He would understand why she never got rid of Daddy’s big blue monster of a vehicle better than anyone else.  He would also know how to help her get it running since he had spent nearly as many hours under the hood as Daddy had.

     “Is that lil’ Jennie girl callin’ my name?!”

      Jennie blushed as the older man came around from behind a stack of air filter boxes arranged in the shape of a pyramid.

     “Come on, Mack.  You know I’m not
lil’
anymore.”

     “Oh but darling, to me you will always be nothin’ more than knee high to a grasshopper!
  You’re lookin’ pretty as can be- bet you got yourself a whole herd of beaus these days!
”  He crushed her in a bear hug then held her at arm’s length.  “How’s your momma doin’ these days?  I heard she’s been under the weather?”

     Jennie decided to skip over the comment about all the dates she was having, the truth would be too sad to deliver.  Instead she went straight to talking about Momma.

     “She’s doin’ all right, Mack.  Got somethin’ called
lupus
- a disorder of the immune system.  Brought on by stress.”

     “Well, I guess there ain’t nothin’ more stressful than your husband dyin’ off in the prime o’ your life.”  Mack spoke reverently and Jennie could see he still mourned the loss of John Marshall almost as much as she did.

   
“No, I suppose not.”  Jennie agreed quietly.

    “So what brings you in lil’ one?”

    “Daddy’s truck.”

     “You still got that ole’ thing?”  There was no hiding the shock in his voice or his expression.  “I had wondered what had become of Big Blue.”

     “In the beginning I couldn’t bear to get rid of it, now I can’t stand the thought of keeping
it
but it doesn’t run anymore.”

    “Did you try startin’ it?”

     “At least a half dozen times.  It won’t turn over.  I was thinkin’…”

     “Bet all she needs is a battery.”  Mack interrupted her.  “Your Daddy and me we replaced the alternator a few months before he… it’s not that old.  Now it could be the starter but my money’s on the battery.  Not usin’ a vehicle will do that.”

     “Do you have a battery that will work?  The internet says…”

    “I got one.”  He interrupted again.  “Always kept one in stock for Old Blue…just in case… and I never quite broke the habit after…well, you know there might be some old farm truck out there in the county that might need the same one.”

     Mack disappeared into a store room behind the counter and returned a few minutes later with the needed car battery and a piece of paper, both of which he dropped on the counter with a thump.

     “Her ya’ go lil’ Jennie girl.  I wrote down a few instructions for ya’ too.  Things was pretty basic in them old Fords so it should be a piece a’ cake.  If not, you give me a call, ya hear?”

    She smiled at the man.  “I hear.  Thanks Mack.   How much I owe ya’?

    “Just take it lil’ girl.  Ain’t no one ‘round these parts gonna come lookin’ for one like that.  It belongs in Old Blue.”

     His eyes wet with moisture he refused to acknowledge, Mack leaned picked up her hand and kissed the back of it.  “You turned out a lot like your ol’ man, lil’ girl.  He would be proud.”

    Fearful she might start crying again, Jennie gave him a watery smile and lifted the battery off the counter.  It was heavy enough that she needed to use two hands to carry it
but she didn’t want to ask Mack for help.  She needed to get out of the store before she went all wet and teary again.

    Of course, had she known Michael McKee would be standing by her car when she left the shop, she might have begged Mack to go with her.

    “Hello Jennie.”  He reached for the battery but she turned away.  She didn’t need Michael’s help with anything.
  Opening the truck she dumped it inside and slammed it shut.

    
“
Michael.  What are you doing here?  Shouldn’t you be with your family?”

    “It’s Ok, they know where I am.  I just need to talk to you for a moment.”

     He looked so handsome in his uniform, as good looking as always with his boyish smile.  It was his eyes that bothered her most though.  The blue didn’t sparkle with mischief the way it used to.

    “What do you need from me this time?”  She didn’t mean to be snappy, she just didn’t seem able to help herself.

     “Thank you for delivering my gift to Trisha.  I am sorry if my request upset you.”

    “It was ridiculous, actually.  I don’t need you deciding for me who I should be friends with.”

     “There’s something you gotta understand, Jennie.  Sitting there in a tent in the middle fo the desert, bombs and bullets never far away and your buddy suddenly goes missing…a lotta things change.  I just wanted to make things right again.”

     “Don’t you get it, Michael?  Things will never be the same again!  It’s over, done.  My life has changed, I’ve moved on.  I have other things to deal with now.”