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Authors: Dorothy Annie Schritt

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BOOK: Samson and Sunset
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  I pulled back out of his arms. He told
me he was going to eat, and then go out and help the guys start
sandbagging. When he opened the oven and there was just one
hamburger with fries, he got a knife and cut it in half, putting
half on a plate for me.

  “Eat,” he said. “You haven’t eaten
since noon.”

  Still sniffling, I called my parents.
They said they’d seen the flood on the news and to stay put; it
wasn’t safe on the roads.

  The only clothes I had with me were
blue jeans, a white silk blouse, a long gold and navy striped scarf
and fashion boots. Hell of a wardrobe for this kind of
situation.

  “Where am I going to sleep?” I
asked.

  I took a small bite of my hamburger
half.

  “Anywhere you like,” he said,
gesturing expansively. “Anywhere but my sisters’ rooms that is.
They make their beds how they like them and they wouldn’t be happy
if someone messed them up.”

  (Brats, I thought.) Debbie was away in
college and Becky was spending the weekend with a friend.

  Shay told me they had two guest
suites, but one was being redone and the other had the bed stacked
with things from the other guest room. There was the twin bed in
his room, he said, and then just his parents’ master suite on the
main level.

  “Do you want to sleep there?” he
asked.

  “Where are you going to be?”

  “Well, I’ll be outside sandbagging for
a few hours, probably won’t be in until after midnight. Then I’ll
shower and I’m going to crawl into that king bed with you and try
to get some sleep. 4:30 comes mighty early.”

  “You’re not sleeping with me.”

  “Yes, I am,” he said. “And quit
worrying, I just think you’re upset and I don’t want to leave you
alone.”

  I followed him silently into the grand
master suite and sat on the bed while he went into a large closet.
When he came out, he threw a pair of pink silk pajamas on the
bed.

  You can shower in their bathroom or
take a soak in their tub, just relax,” he said.

  “Well, I want three safety pins,” I
said.

  He gave me a strange look. “Down the
hall there’s a crafts room right next to the office, you’ll
probably find them in there.”

  “I’m waiting up until you get in,” I
said. “So I’ll just watch TV ’til then.”

  “Suit yourself, princess,” and out he
went to work.

  With Shay gone the big empty house
felt eerie. My whole world had crashed, but after a while of
sitting in the silent room alone, I decided it was time to
explore.

  The master suite was on the ground
floor, as was Shay’s room, which had a twin bed like he said, a
desk, and a bunch of exercise equipment.

  The foyer led to a glorious formal
living room with a large cherry wood fireplace, high, coffered
ceilings and plush ivory-colored carpeting. Most of the furnishings
had gold leaf accents. The ornate cherry wood dining room table sat
eight people on each side and a chandelier hung over each end. The
chairs had very tall backs and scrolled legs, sage green brocade
cushions with ivory thread to match the floors. At each end of the
table was a grand leather armchair.

  The large den next to the formal
dining room had two sofas and recliners, a television armoire and
gorgeous accent pieces. There was a semi-formal dining room off the
kitchen, I assumed for morning breakfasts.

  Next up, the second floor. The guest
rooms were spacious, with a large wood burning fireplace and a
private bath, each. One suite had French doors entering onto a
balcony that overlooked the pool and the pool house, which was
large enough for two people to live in comfortably. Sure enough,
one of the guest rooms was torn up for remodeling, the other
stacked full of belongings. Shay’s sisters’ rooms were girlie and
frilly, with cheerleading pompoms, pictures of friends and 4-H
ribbons on the walls. Both beds were neatly made, with an abundance
of carefully arranged stuffed animals.

  On my way back to the master suite, I
found the crafts room and three safety pins. Then I took my long
scarf, opened the king bed, eyeballed the center and pinned the
scarf straight down the middle. Made me feel a little better.

  Shay got in around 12:30 a.m. I was
asleep on the sofa. He must have showered first, because he smelled
all clean and fresh as he picked me up off the sofa and carried me
into the bedroom, where he put me on one of the sides.

  “I see we have a wall between us,
princess,” he said with his usual grin.

I pulled the blanket up around my neck.
“Where did you come up with that name, anyway? Princess. It’s
really sort of sarcastic, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t mean it that way,” he said
almost gently and left the room.

  Through the quiet house I could hear
him in the kitchen, then I heard soft music and Shay came in with a
glass of warmed milk. Now this was sort of precious, considering
how tired he was.

  “Drink this, princess. It’ll calm you
down and you’ll sleep better.”

  I didn’t have to worry, like people do
today, that he might have put something in my drink. We didn’t live
in that world. I sat up and drank it.

  While I was drinking my milk, Shay
said, “Do you like to eat?”

  “What?”

  “Do you like to eat?

  “Well, of course.”

  “A day’s work for a day’s food,” he
announced.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, when you get up—and you can get
up whenever you want—there will be some clean undies, a t-shirt of
mine, a sweatshirt and some western boots for you to wear. You’re
going to help the hands sandbag tomorrow. Just wear your own jeans
and we’ll wash ’em tomorrow night.”

  “I can’t do that,” I said.

  “You’re doing it, princess. My turf,
my rules. So if I were you, I’d get some sleep,” and he got in the
bed on his side.

  He’d left the soft music playing and
there was a small glow from an amber sconce. It gave off just
enough light to see the objects in the room.

  “Goodnight, princess,” he said,
turning his back to me.

  I lay awake for a while, just turning
the day over in my mind. Shay was asleep in seconds, breathing
slowly and deeply.

  I have no idea what time he got up in
the morning. He must have been extremely quiet. I woke up around
8:15 a.m. and again immediately turned on the waterworks. I lay
there sobbing. I had never been away from Kelly and this is one
mother who just couldn’t handle it.

  I finally got up and went into the
bathroom. Placed on the vanity bench were the clothes I was told
I’d find. After showering and dressing like a cowgirl, except for a
Creighton University sweatshirt, I went into the kitchen to find
Cookie. She had the kindest face.

  “Good morning there, missy,” she said
brightly. “Just make yourself at home and old Cookie’s going to fix
you some breakfast. Honey, do you like waffles?”

  I told her thank you but I didn’t have
much of an appetite. I asked her how long she’d been up. She said
she came over to the Big House about 4 a.m. to make breakfast for
her boy, Shay.

  “Why can’t he fix his own?” I
asked.

  She looked a little stunned.

  “Cookie,” I said, suddenly thinking of
something. “Have you eaten?”

  She said she hadn’t had time just
yet.

  “You sit down at that table and I’ll
get you tea or coffee, whatever you like,” I said. “Just point me
in the direction of the waffle iron and I’ll fix your
breakfast.”

  She looked hesitant.

  “Come on, Cookie, please? I want to.
Then we can sit and visit awhile.”

  I think I must have pulled the rug out
from under her. Her face lit up with a huge smile.

  While she ate her waffles and drank
her coffee, we had ourselves a little girl talk.

  “Cookie,” I asked, “does Shay bring
girls home to spend the night often?”

  “Honey child,” she said, “now I
shouldn’t be telling tales out of school, but you’re the first girl
he has ever had here all night. Granted, there have been plenty of
girls here in the evenings,” she added, “some staying late. But he
has never had one here all night.”

  “Well, you know, Cookie, he had no
choice with me. The roads are washed out.”

  “They sure are, honey. This happens
every six or seven years. We’re getting used to it.”

  “I’m so homesick, Cookie. You know I
have a little girl…three and a half months old. She needs me. I
can’t stand being away from her this long..." Well here came the
tears again. Cookie was on her feet in moments, consoling me.

  “You know, honey child, my Shay asked
me this morning if I’d gotten a chance to talk to you and what did
I think of you —”

  “Well, there wasn’t much you could
tell him from me just telling you what he wanted for dinner,” I
said between tears.

  “Well you just wait a minute, honey. I
told him that I saw something in your eyes, something very deep and
mystical.”

  “Funny you say that, Cookie. He told
me one night I was mystical, but I don’t think
he’s
very
mystical or sensitive. I don’t think he’s even very spiritual or
believes in anything that he can’t see or touch.”

  “Well, honey, I don’t think any of
this family does, but I do, and I see it in you. You’re a kindred
spirit. If that weren’t true, then why is old Cookie sitting at the
table eating while you wait on me?” She chuckled. “That just
doesn’t happen around here. But my Shay, I helped raise that boy,
and he’s good people.”

  She put her arms around me, rocking me
like a child.

  “You know what he asked me this
morning, honey? He said, ‘Cookie, I’m making my friend Callie go
out and sandbag today. I don’t think she’s done a hard day’s work
in her life and I don’t want to do that to her, but Cookie, she’s
so homesick and so sad to be stranded…I thought a good hard day’s
work would keep her mind off her child and make her good and tired
so she’d sleep well tonight…Do you think I’m doing the wrong
thing?’

  “Well, I told him, no sweetie, you’re
doing it because you’re thinking of her. Did you tell her that?
‘Oh, no,’ he says, ‘she’s a stubborn one, high spirited. I have a
hard enough time keeping her in tow!’ Well, I just started
laughing! I told him I’d looked in on him and you about 4:30 a.m.
just before he got up. ‘Shay, honey,’ I said, ‘I saw the scarf. Now
who do you think has who, in tow?’”

  I smiled and sat up, wiping my eyes.
“Where is he working today?”

  “Shay and some of the hands—my Joe
included—went on horseback to try to rescue any cattle caught up in
deep water or ice jams.”

  “Sounds sort of dangerous!”

  “Oh, it is, honey, but that Shay never
lets anyone do anything he wouldn’t do himself. He wants you to go
to the largest barn outside and Lucas will tell you where to
sandbag.”

Off I went, but not before Cookie forced a
waffle on me. 

***

What a day! Back-breaking bending over,
holding bags open. At one point I saw Shay ride over on his horse
and sit there a little way off, watching me work. I thought to
myself: You must really enjoy watching me suffer. Well, enjoy it,
because this is my last day doing this.

  If I’d known about it at the time, I
would have flipped him the bird. I went in about 5 p.m. and Cookie
asked me what I wanted for dinner.

  “I’m too tired to eat,” I said. “I’m
just going to shower, put on those pink PJs, lay down on the sofa
and watch the news about the roads.”

  Shay came in about 8:30 p.m. and went
directly to the bathroom to shower. When he came out he asked if
I’d eaten yet.

  I said, “No, I’m not eating tonight.
That way I can store up the food I earned today and I won’t have to
work tomorrow!”

  “You know, princess, you may have a
cute little ass, but it doesn’t work that way.”

  He brought us some cheese, deer
sausage and crackers, slicing off the thick white cheddar for me
and laying it on each individual cracker. Well, that was kind of
sweet. I took a few.

  We watched television for about an
hour and then the tears started again. “I need to go home and see
Kelly,” I kept saying. “I can feel her wondering where I am. She
needs me!”

  “Well, the chopper’s been in Plymouth
for service,” said Shay. “But when it gets back tomorrow I’ll have
you choppered out.”

  “Oh no, no, no. Out of the question.
Thanks but no thanks. I can’t get in one of those things, I think
I’d die.” My stomach turned a flip just thinking about it.

  “Well, then, you had better get to bed
because you’ve got a lot of work to do tomorrow,” said Shay.

  “I’m not the help!” I protested,
sitting up. “My back hurts so bad! My whole body hurts, even the
bottoms of my feet!”

  Shay got up and went to the hall
closet. He came back with a blanket that he spread out on the den
room floor.

  “Lay down on your stomach,” he
directed.

  “What? Oh no. I’m not doing that.”

  “Shut.” (He never said ‘shut up,’
always ‘shut.’) He snapped his fingers and pointed to the
blanket.

  Too tired to argue, I thought, Let’s
just get the damn thing over with.

  I lay flat down on the blanket and he
straddled my back, sort of sitting on my bottom, putting his weight
on his knees on the floor. He put both of his hands in the center
of my back, both covering my spine; left hand above, right hand
below. His hands felt large and warm.

  “When I push down with my hands, you
slowly lift your head and neck upward,” he said. “Then slowly bring
your shoulders up.”

  I did as he said and heard a big pop.
Then he got off my back, sat on the floor and pushed the pressure
points on the bottoms of my feet. That felt so good I just drifted
off to sleep right there.

BOOK: Samson and Sunset
6.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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