Under the Cypress Moon (63 page)

When Mark arrived, he found Lou sitting on the front porch swing with Shylah, sipping a beer.  Mark immediately wondered if Shylah were drinking, too, feeling ready to lay into her if she was.  It appeared that only Lou had a drink, a tremendous relief to Mark's worries.

"Hey, Mark," Lou shouted as T.L. helped Mark out of the car and into his wheelchair. 

Mark decided, "To Hell with what the doctor says!  I'm walking," and quickly got up from the chair, slowly meandering toward the porch.

Shylah immediately jumped from the swing and came rushing to Mark's side.  "Baby, you're not supposed to walk!  The doctor said for you to take it easy!"

"I will, but I gotta get up to go up the steps anyway.  Unless we get a ramp built here, I'm kinda screwed.  But anyway, how are you today, Beautiful?"

"Don't worry how I am.  You get back in your chair, Mister!  I'm not havin' you get hurt again!  You get hurt again, and I'll kill ya!"  Shylah pressed upon Mark's arm, slowly lowering him back into the chair as T.L. placed it behind him.

"Fine," Mark muttered, feeling quite defeated.  "But how am I gonna get up the steps?  You know how hard of a time I have the way it is?  I gotta get out of this to get to the house."

"Just wheel yourself there, and then go easy.  I'll hold onto ya, and so can T.  We'll get you up the steps.  Just don't do too much!  You worry me!"  Shylah still had ahold of Mark's arm, even after he was seated, not realizing that the stress of seeing Mark exert himself made her lose all sense of immediate and basic reality.

Mark deeply sighed one more time, feeling so helpless, so forlorn, so nearly forgotten by life and by God that he wanted to give up completely.  It was then that other thoughts began to creep into his mind, thoughts that had consumed him hours before.  He twisted himself to grab Shylah with his other hand, pulling her close to him.  "Baby, I wanna talk to you about somethin'."

"Ok, Baby," Shylah agreed. "Now?"

"It won't take long.  I just want you to know that I'm sorry.  I'm really sorry.  I haven't been there for you enough lately since all this happened.  I'm in a bad mood from this all the time, and I don't wanna be!  I love you, Shylah.  I don't wanna do anything to hurt you."

"It's ok, Baby," Shylah assured Mark.  "It's all gonna be ok.  I know you still love me, and I love you, too!  I was startin' to get pretty upset about this all, but I forgive you.  I know you're goin through Hell right now.  But I am glad that you're talkin' to me about it instead of bottling it all up.  You can always come to me for anything, Baby.  You know that."

Mark pulled Shylah so hard to give her a kiss that she fell into his lap.  She quickly got away from him, terribly distraught, thinking that the pressure on Mark's abdomen might open up his wound or worse, cause him internal difficulties.  "Baby, I'm so sorry," Shylah shouted as soon as she was back on her feet.

"I'm the one who pulled YOU down, Babe.  My fault.  I was just tryin' to get a kiss, though," Mark informed his fiancée.

"There's easier ways, Silly," Shylah replied, laughing.  "But I hope you're alright."

"I feel fine, Baby.  No worries, I don't think.  If there are, we'll find out soon enough.  Ok.  Let's get me to the house."

Mark struggled to get out of his chair and wander up the steps to the porch, supported by T.L. and Lou.  Shylah quickly tipped the wheelchair back and guided it backward onto the porch, ordering Mark to get back into it right away.  Mark reluctantly obliged, knowing that he was now reserved to remain in the damned contraption for many more hours, until he could go to bed.  He hated it so much that he wanted to scream at every moment of the day and night.

"I wanna sit in the swing," Mark announced, rolling to the place before anyone could say anything.  Instead of fight the request, Shylah held Mark by the arm as he lifted himself and slowly positioned his body into place where his fiancée had been sitting minutes before.

Mark was soon joined by Lou.  "I hope you don't mind me havin' one of your beers, Buddy," Lou made known.  "I got all my work done, and Shylah said you wouldn't care, so I had her bring me one.  I could pay ya fer it."

Mark laughed harder than he had for some time.  Finding real humor in something after his injury
a couple of weeks prior seemed a blessing.  He needed it.  He had been in such a horrible mood for a week that laughter felt nourishing.  "Lou, you know I don't care, Man.  Have at it.  I wouldn't take your money for a beer.  Every man needs a beer now and again, and I could use one now, and again after that one.  So, if somebody don't mind, I'll take my now and again, two beers for ol' Mark."

Shylah scurried into the kitchen and brought out all of the beer in the house.  She figured that all three of the men would easily go through the remaining eight bottles in no time.  At least, she thought, it was a happy day, happier, anyway, than so many others.  Mark was home.  He was happy. The sun shone brightly and warm.  Birds abounded, singing their sweet serenades.  This was all not to mention that Shylah had been able to meet with Selma Simmons and already get so many things planned that it seemed an entire world of worry had been washed away.  Selma was amazing in her incredible abilities to get so much done so fast. 
The only seeming downside to hiring Selma was that she had already demanded a five thousand dollar deposit, and Shylah had yet to inform Mark of this.  She was terrified of what he might say.  She hoped that he would not be mad about it at all.  He did say that Shylah could have whatever she wanted for the wedding. 

It would be very little time, Shylah knew, before Mark was back to normal health, and they were getting married.  If days could be just like that one, so seemingly perfect, despite whatever was wrong in their lives, it would be a great life, a truly happy and wonderful, utterly fulfilling life.  Mark was the King of Shylah's world, and soon enough, she would be his Queen, to rule benevolently by his side for so many years to come that they could not all be fathomed by human intelligence.  It was all a truly remarkable gift from the Creator.

Chapter 28

On Tuesday night, just prior to Mark's birthday, he began to have what Shylah could only imagine must have been night terrors.  Hours after falling to sleep, Mark started to shake violently and roll around, flailing his arms, nearly hitting Shylah several times. 

"No," Mark screamed, tossing like the giant waves of the sea during a disastrous storm.  "No!  I said no!  No!  No, Daddy, no!"

"Mark?  Mark, wake up," Shylah demanded, shaking Mark by the shoulder again and again.  "Wake up, Baby.  Wake up."

After more than a minute of this, Mark finally opened his eyes.  "What?  What are you shakin' me for?"

"You were havin' a nightmare, and you almost hit me."

"I did?  I'm sorry, Babe.  I am.  I can't really control myself, though, you know."  Mark's glassy eyes could be only faintly noticed in the near pitch black of the room.

"I know, Baby.  I just wanted you to be able to wake up so you'd stop.  It's ok now, I hope.  What was your dream about anyway?"

"I really don't know, to be honest.  Did I say somethin'," Mark asked, nudging Shylah to come to him and lay her head upon his chest.

As Shylah ran her fingers up and down Mark's chest, she let her fingertips slowly brush, with such gentle force as to be hardly felt, up to Mark's chin.  With a quick tap on Mark's chin, Shylah replied, "Yeah.  You kept screamin' 'No,' and finally, you said, 'No, Daddy, no!'"

"Hell if I know what it was about.  That is pretty weird, though.  I wish I knew.  Oh well.  Give me a kiss, Baby, and then, I'm gonna try to get some more sleep."

Shylah happily leaned her head off of Mark's chest just enough to kiss him.  After several seconds of loving embraces of this sort, the two lay their heads down.  "Oh.  It's after midnight, Baby, so happy birthday!"

"Thank you, Baby.  There's nobody I'd rather spend it with than you!"

"Awww.  You're so sweet, Mark."  Shylah could take no more of this without showing Mark just how it made her feel.  As she lifted herself once more to kiss her fiancée, however, she pressed down on him, causing him to wince in pain.

Before the two of them could kiss for very long, Shylah let up, pulling her lips away, worried that Mark hurt too much. 

"Sorry, but that did hurt somethin' awful," Mark commented, clutching his stomach.  "I don't think you got me quite right on the wound, but it was near enough.  Damn, did that hurt!"

"I'm so sorry, Baby.  I am so so so sorry!  I didn't mean to.  Please don't be mad at me." 

"No.  It's not your fault or anything, Baby," Mark assured her, kissing her on the top of her head. 

"Should I go lay back on my side," Shylah asked, hoping that she would not have to move.

"Now, why would I want that?"  With another kiss on the top of Shylah's head, Mark began to squeeze her tightly with his left hand, his arm wrapped around her back, his hand gripping her shoulder.

Before long, both of them fell easily to sleep, no more jolts or terrors to awaken them, except that of the morning sun shining so brightly that it seemed to nearly blind them. 

"Mornin', Baby," Shylah said as happily as she ever could have, positioning herself on her elbows, just beyond Mark's side. 

"Mornin' to you, too, Beautiful," Mark replied, leaning down as best that he could for his first moment of the day kiss. 

"You gotta go in today, don't you, Baby?"  Shylah continued to lie in her prostrate position staring into Mark's eyes as she spoke.  There was something about those eyes, those magical, nearly mysterious, yet so very gentle and loving eyes.  Shylah always found herself awash in a sea of no self-control when she looked into them.

"Yep, but not for too long.  I just gotta show up and meet with Don and your dad and your brother, though Don is supposed to be gettin' the supervisors to come to the meetings now.  We're just gonna go over the stuff we talked about Monday and any ideas they have.  I just wanna make sure everybody's up to speed and completely on board for us to reopen.  It's not what I'd call birthday fun, but at least, it won't take but maybe a couple of hours from when I leave to when I get back."  Mark could not help but stare back at Shylah as intently and devotedly as she did at him.  "I wanna kiss you again, my beautiful, sexy, wonderful little wife."

"Not your wife yet.  Tisk.  Tisk.  Tisk.  But you can kiss me, I guess, if I have to let you since it's your birthday and all."

"You're practically my wife already, so na na na na na na.  And I'll kiss you any time I want, like now."  With a soft and swift kiss, Mark leaned back.  "And again."  Leaning forward once more, he planted a very long, deep, and passionate kiss on Shylah's lips, so overwhelmingly passionate that it filled Shylah with desires she hoped she would not have for a while. 

"It's sad that it's your birthday, and you can't even have birthday sex!  It's not fair to either one of us!"

"Hey.  You think I don't know?  I'm goin' crazy not bein' able to do anything.  But I will say this, as soon as I'm better, you be ready!  We ain't leavin' this room for days!"  Mark shot Shylah a meaningful look that spoke of his sincerity.  It said more than did his words.

"You promise," Shylah asked in great anticipation.

"Oh hell yeah!"

"Not to change the subject away from somethin' I love so much, but you know what we haven't done in forever?"

"What's that, Babe?"

"Gone to the grove.  We were goin' there every night for a while, and then, we just stopped.  We need to start goin' back to it.  It really did a lot for us.  I always feel so happy and so peaceful when I'm there with you, and I know you do, too."  Shylah felt herself about to cry, thinking of such a thing.  She missed her late night outdoor rendezvouses with Mark.

"How am I supposed to get out there?  I got this problem called bein' in a wheelchair, Goofball!  You gonna carry me, little as you are?" 

"Uh, yeah, Smartass, if I have to.  But you know the ground out back is pretty level with the house.  All you gotta do is wheel out the back door and then around through the yard out to the trees.  If you can handle goin' just a little bit downhill, you'll be ok.  In fact, you could start wheelin' yourself around to the back door and comin' in the house that way.  You wouldn't have to get out of your chair and go up the steps and hurt yourself.  What do ya think?"

"Why didn't I think of that," Mark asked, really wondering why it had not dawned on him.

"Cuz you need a woman.  That's why I'm here, to help you do stuff you can't.  Your tiny little man brain just couldn't do it.  Thank you.  That'll be fifty bucks."

"You know, I wanna love you, but you make it so hard."

"You better love me.  Who the hell else is gonna help you to the bathroom and feed you and do all those other things you can't do for yourself?  You need me, Marcus James Crady.  So, there!"

"I could hire somebody, and don't you be middle namin' me now!  I don't claim James, Shylah Dawn King."  Now, it seemed as if a great lovers' battle had ensued.  Both were ready to stand their ground and defend it to the last possible effort could be made. 

"I didn't know you knew my middle name.  Damn T.L.  And James is your middle name.  I like it.  It's cute.  Your parents gave it to you.  It's on your birth certificate.  You have to accept it."