Morning Star (2 page)

"Don't do it big fella," he had time to say before he was flipped backward into the water. He submerged, pulled himself up, then slipped and disappeared beneath the surface again. This time he gripped the wooden sides of the trough  tightly and yanked himself to his feet. 

If the horses were amused before, now they were hysterical. The snorting and neighing rose to a deafening pitch as they nudged and pushed each other in exuberant delight.

Nate shook his head causing more commotion.

"I'm so glad you gave me the opportunity to provide some comic relief to your otherwise boring day."

The dunking apparently broke the ice between the horses and the newcomer. Nate saw them gather around the steed undoubtedly congratulating him on a job well done.

He was still in the trough when a jeep pulled up the driveway next to the largest of his two barns. It stopped parallel to him on the opposite side of the fence. A young attractive woman with coal black hair stepped out from behind the wheel, removed the cowboy hat she wore, and smiled. 

"It's customary to disrobe before taking a bath. Haven't I taught you anything?"

Nate wrung some water from his shirt and stared at his girlfriend. 

"Why don't you come a little bit closer Cindy? I can barely hear you way over there."

"No thanks. I believe I'll stay where it's dry if you don't mind." 

She looked toward the horses.

"Who's the big black one?"

"Don't know, and he's actually a dark blue in color," Nate said while climbing out of the trough. "He showed up this afternoon rather unannounced."

"Would he be the reason for your mid-afternoon dip?"

"He would."

Nate headed for the gate, dripping and squeaking, a direct result of his soaked leather boots. The horses behind him were having a grand old time. A development noted by his girlfriend.

"You know they'll expect you to take a dip every afternoon now."

"I believe I'll be staying away from that watering hole for the next few days."

"Not a bad idea."

He moved close to her and reached his arms out for a hug.

"Fat chance that's gonna happen," she told him.

Cindy Bannister stepped forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. Before she had a chance to back off, Nate grabbed her in a bear hug. It was okay. She knew it would go down that way.

"Want to ride with me to Walker General to see Dannie?" he asked her after their longer, and wetter, kiss.

"That's why I'm here," she said. "I suggest you change first. I'll wait."

He went into the house and she walked through the gate. The uninvited guest drew her attention. He was a bit larger than the others in height and girth. Many horses mingled around the newcomer. They moved away as Cindy approached.

When she was near enough to touch him, the horse turned his head and looked at her. His dark eyes met hers and locked onto her. A thought strayed into her head of a blue flower shaped like a rose. She saw Dannie lying next to it. The girl wasn't moving. She appeared to be sleeping. Then the rose blossomed next to her and Dannie's eyes opened. She looked up and seemed to be staring at Cindy. The girl smiled.

"It's okay Mom," she said. "I'm fine now."

The vision vanished as the horse turned and walked into the herd. Cindy wiped a tear from her eye. What she saw seemed so real. Little eight year old Dannie happy, free of the cruel disease that wanted all of her body and mind. When the reality hit her, the dirt, the sand, the hot summer air, a girl who might die young, she nearly fell to her knees.

4

The vibrations flowed through her. Sometimes they pulsed, but today they were steady and strong. Sometimes they hummed, a soothing sound that relaxed her. On those days she felt as light as a feather blown about on a summer breeze. Today the vibrations hummed loudly, too loudly for her to hear Nurse Sharon. Nurse Sharon was saying something to her and smiling so she nodded as if she understood and smiled back at her. She had just received her morning meds, her
good vibes
as she called them. I'm getting those good vibrations. The good vibes eased her pain. A pain that went through her body like a runaway train. 

There were times when she didn't hurt but they were few. She didn't tell her dad or Miss Cindy when she hurt, she didn't have to. They seemed to know and she hated to see them cry. Her dad, who had fought in a war, in a country called Vietnam, was so brave. The bravest adult in the world, but even he cried from time to time. Not in front of her, never in her presence. He would excuse himself and go into the hallway. Sometimes she saw Miss Cindy take him in her arms, and she could see him shaking while Miss Cindy patted his back.

No one told her she was going to die. Everyone said she would get better, but she knew. She knew the truth. One day, not long from now, she would go to sleep and not wake up. She was broken and no one could fix her, not even her father who could do everything. 

Lately, she felt she lived two lives. There was her hospital life of doctors and nurses. The life of her father sitting by her bed holding her hand. Sometimes Miss Cindy sat opposite him, taking her other hand. They would tell her stories and she would sleep. Then her other life would begin. In that life her mother would take her hand and tell her stories too. Her mother would tell not to be afraid. Her mother would tell her how much she loved her and how brave she was. In this life she felt fine, more than fine, she felt wonderful. She walked with her mother on sturdy legs and knew she could run if she wanted. She could run like the wind, and once in this other life, they did. They ran together holding hands and laughing, and she remembered that there were flowers beneath her feet, blue roses growing like grass from the dazzling earth.

She closed her eyes. Her father would be here soon and maybe Miss Cindy. She liked Miss Cindy and she knew her dad did also. When her mother died three years ago they were both so sad. She was too young to have her mother go away. She didn't want her to leave. Her father sat down in front of her one night and told her everything she ever wanted to know about her mom, from the day they met until that night. Then he told her that her mother was not leaving her, that she would always be with her. She smiled because she felt no pain and because her father was right. 

A bright light surrounded her and she knew her other life had began. She waited for her mother to take her hand, but the light became dimmer and soon vanished. A darkness as deep as night took its place and she grew frightened. Mom, she thought, for she felt her near. A star appeared in the distance, faint and twinkling. She watched it grow larger as it came toward her, pushing through the darkness until its light became the only thing she saw. And then, in front of her, the light began to shift and mold itself into a shape. And the shape became a horse. It shook its head in front of her and shooting stars flew from its mane. The horse walked on air toward her until it was close enough to touch. She reached out and placed her hand on its forehead. She thought she felt the horse's heartbeat on her hand and something else, something strong and fierce.

The horse raised its head and their eyes met and in those dark eyes she could see everything; all the good, all the hopes, all the dreams. And she felt a voice more than heard it. A voice she had never heard before but still seemed familiar. A voice that began in her head before it spread throughout her body. A voice that brought her peace and joy.

"I've come to take you home," the voice said.

5

Nate and Cindy arrived at the hospital before noon. The front desk receptionist waved them through, a courtesy only given to a select few. The third floor children's ward could easily have been a terribly sad place to visit, but the attending doctors and nurses simply wouldn't allow it. Tears were not allowed in this section of the hospital, only smiles. A poster of a clown pointing to the text
SMILES, NOT TEARS!
hammered home the point.

Cindy had witnessed Nate cry many times when he spoke of Dannie and her condition. She had never seen him cry in the hospital however. Neither had yet to shed a tear in front of Dannie, though there were times when she just made it to the restroom before breaking down. 

She and Nate had been dating for less than six months when they noticed a change in Dannie, both in her appearance and her personality. It started when she began sleeping late into the morning instead of rising with the sun. She gradually became lethargic, falling asleep in class, and napping in the afternoon when she usually did her homework assignments. Dannie, who normally devoured any food placed in front of her, now claimed she wasn't hungry at meal times and pecked at her favorite foods in disgust.

As if this wasn't enough, she started making excuses to avoid riding her favorite mustang, Comanche. When prodded by her father as to why she ignored her horse, she told him it hurt her to ride. Nate took her to the hospital the next morning.

The doctors tested her for two days and could not find anything wrong. They brought in a specialist from Phoenix on adolescent illnesses and he saw what they had missed. Dannie had Perinosis disease, a rare children's disorder that produced a loss of appetite at its onset. Other signs were weakness and lethargic behavior, repetitive speech and, eventually, a loss of motor skills. All treatments for the disease served to prolong the life of the patient and had yet to provide a cure. The disease always proved fatal eventually, usually within a year of the onset of symptoms.

The specialist explained this to Nate and Cindy in a closed room during a hospital visit two weeks ago. He showed them test results and talked about his previous experiences with the disease. When Nate Walker asked about the prospect for a cure for his only child, the doctor walked around to the front of the desk, took off his glasses, and told the two of them a horror story.

Cindy remembered how Nate gripped her hand as the doctor spoke. She remembered looking at him and seeing not the strong war veteran she admired so, but a confused and bewildered man surrounded by the terrors he had thought he'd lost forever.

She hadn't known him that well when Katy died. His wife had been gone nearly two years when they had their first date. He was so fragile then. 

They made it through those months unscarred. Now Cindy knew it would start again. And she wondered how much he could take, how strong of a man he was, because now he had another battle to fight. Now, according to the specialist from Phoenix, he would lose his daughter to a monstrous disease within the year.

6

Dannie slept as Nate talked to Katy's parents, Al and Margaret. They had taken the night and morning shift. Nate took over at lunch time and stayed until mid-evening. Sometimes Cindy relieved him when necessary work needed to be done at the ranch. No matter when the time, day or night, a family member sat at Dannie's bedside.

"She's been restless, but no pain today." Al Pennington looked at the child sleeping in front of him.

"No pain today," he repeated.

"That's good," Nate said and gently took his daughter's hand.

He saw tears in the man's eyes and saw his wife of forty five years pass him a handkerchief. In spite of the hospital's edict, tears flowed, but only when Dannie slept. When she woke the tears would stop and smiles would take their place. Dannie deserved each smile and every bit of the infrequent laughter. They were her reward for her courage, for as far as anyone knew, Dannie had not shed a tear once since she became ill.

"I understand Bill Travers is dropping off some livestock tomorrow."

Al always called the horses livestock, and Nate always let it slide. 

"That he is. Ten mustangs from Wyoming. Guess I'll have to open the last section in the second barn."

"Let me know if you need any help."

"Will do Al. Thanks."

Nate looked at Dannie. 

"Oh, by the way, we have another new addition to the herd. A stallion came in this morning. Jumped the fence like it wasn't there. Then he properly introduced himself by dunking me in the water trough."

"He was soaked to the bone when I pulled up," Cindy added.

This brought a chuckle to Al, even as he dried his eyes. 

"You don't say."

Margaret walked around the bed until she faced her son-in-law. She took his free hand.

"The horse that jumped the fence, is he a dark blue in color, almost black?"

"As a matter of fact he is. I thought him to be black until I got closer to him. A weird color for a horse. I don't believe I ever saw one that color before."

"I have," Margaret said. "I had a dream last night about the horse you described. I dreamt he came from a place far away; a beautiful place with gardens of flowers as far as one could see. The flowers were all of the same color, dark blue. So beautiful."

She seemed to lose her train of thought. Then her eyes found Dannie and focused.

"He's come to save our little girl," she said.

7

It was a little after three in the afternoon when Dannie woke up. Al and Margaret were long gone and Nate and Cindy sat by the bed reading.

Nate glanced up to see Dannie staring at him. 

"Hi baby," he said, causing Cindy to look up from her book.

Dannie just stared at her father. She did this sometimes, just staring without talking. Her father smiled at her, waiting her out. When she finally spoke, it was just five short words.

"I want to go home."

Nate put down his magazine. Cindy closed her book and turned her head to Nate. 

He once again took his daughter's hand. He moved up in the chair until he sat on the very edge of it. He continued to smile.

"You know what the doctors say honey. They think it would be best if you stay here so they can look after you."

"I want to go home," she said again forcefully.

Cindy rose from her seat and stood next to Nate. She knew better than to speak. This would be between a father and his child.

"I know you don't like it here Dannie, but it's for the best."