by Mark J Rose
**********
It wasn’t as hot in the house as earlier, or he wasn’t as sick as he had been. Either way, Matt didn’t have the uneasy feeling that he’d collapse as he entered. He could see Mary, David’s wife, Faith, and Grace working down in the kitchen. Grace’s ice-blue eyes were still vivid in his mind. Thomas pointed him to a chair at the wooden dinner table. The men sat and Mary, Faith, and Grace brought the meal from the kitchen to the table. The boys looked hungry, but no one touched the food, even when the women had taken their seats. The food was passed around dish by dish, but still no one ate. Matt scanned the table for clues as to what he was supposed to do.
Thomas glanced at Matt and said, “Mr. Miller, would you say the prayer?”
“The prayer?”
The boys snickered and he saw Grace roll her eyes.
“To thank the Lord for providing us with this meal,” Thomas replied.
“I was born Catholic, but don’t go to church,” Matt said proudly. “Probably best if someone else handles the praying.” There were more snickers, and Matt could see the disapproval in Grace’s face.
Thomas took a scolding tone with his family. “We must bring all the sheep home,” he said. “Let us bow our heads. Jeb, please lead us.” They grew serious, folding their hands, and Jeb began his prayer. Matt followed, looking up occasionally to make sure he was doing the right thing.
Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God,
Who has sanctified us with Thy commandments,
And brought forth this food from the earth.
Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts,
Which we are about to receive from Thy bounty,
Through Christ our Lord.
Amen.
There was a roar around the table as Jeb finished and they started to eat and talk. “You should have seen Shadow!” Jonathan exclaimed. “He was awful mad. He threw a shoe and we needed him in the barn. He’d not go until Mr. Miller helped.”
This was the first time Grace looked at Matt since they sat. “I thought you had no experience with horses, Mr. Miller.”
“You can ride, though?” asked Jeb.
“I don’t know how to ride a horse,” replied Matt. The boys looked at him like he was from outer space. Matt was beginning to feel like an alien anyway, so their expressions didn’t surprise him. “I never had a reason to learn to ride a horse when I was growing up.”
“Are you from a big city?” Jeb asked.
“Philadelphia.”
“What do your people do in Philadelphia?” asked Thomas.
“I make medicine for a big company,” Matt said. “My father drives a cab. My mother lives in New York, though I’m not sure exactly what she does.”
“Your family is apart?” asked Mary.
“Yes, my mother left the house when I was twelve,” he said. “I grew up with my dad.”
“Your mother must be overwhelmed with grief,” Mary replied.
“She’s fine,” Matt said. “Remarried.”
They all looked at him in despair.
“No, she’s okay,” he explained. “We were all probably better off in the end.”
This had been Matt’s stock answer for questions about his family. The truth was that his parents’ divorce had been devastating to him and his sister. His mother had moved out of the house one day when he was in seventh grade so she could go “find herself.” He had come home from school in time to see half the family’s furniture lifted into a moving van. Since then his mother had popped in and out of his life, mostly on holidays. He had reached the point where he didn’t even want to see her at all. He grew weary of her explanation that she had left to “make it better for everyone.” He remembered that it hadn’t been “better” for either him or his younger sister.
“Are you Amish?” Matt asked.
“Why would you think we’re Amish?” Grace said.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “You don’t use electricity, no television, you dress simply.” He paused to chuckle. “You all eat dinner together.”
Grace looked at him with disdain. “Only Amish act thus in Philadelphia?”
“I think I may not be used to church people,” Matt said.
The younger boy, Jonathan, finally changed the subject. “Father, when will you put the new shoe on Shadow?”
“Tonight, while we have him in the barn,” he answered. “I desire help.” Both boys turned their heads to Matt, obviously not wanting to go near the horse.
“I can,” Matt said. “It’ll keep me here after dark, though, so I’ll need a place to stay another night.”
“Mr. Miller, you’re welcome to the barn another night even if you don’t help,” Thomas said.
There was something very confident and caring about this man, which Matt found comforting and intimidating at the same time. For some reason, he felt like he needed to impress Thomas. Matt turned briefly to Grace, expecting some reaction, but she continued with her meal as if not aware of the conversation.
**********
After dinner, Thomas led Matt to the barn and Shadow’s stall. “He’ll be easier to control now that he’s closed in,” Thomas explained. “Being around the other horses brings out the worst.”
“Jeb said you call him Satan,” Matt said.
Thomas seemed embarrassed by this. “I guess on bad days he can be a little hard to control. I make sure never to let him alone with Grace or the boys.”
“Why do you keep him?”
“You have but to look upon him,” said Thomas. “His foals are healthy and strong. They are prized by those who buy our animals.” He continued in a joking fashion, “I’d not say this for him to hear, but he’s responsible for much of the silver it has taken to build this farm.”
Thomas grabbed tools from the bench. “I shall reset the shoe until we can have the smith fix it properly. Keep him calm, and confine him to the corner.” Thomas grabbed hold of Shadow’s halter and eased him into the back corner of the stall. He motioned Matt to take him by his head. Matt reached up with one hand and began talking to the horse in a soft voice. The horse stared down at him, breathing strongly. He was a warhorse, impossible to transform into a kitten, but he remained mostly still as Thomas worked on the hoof.
The sun was low in the horizon, and it was noticeably darker in the barn by the time they were done. Thomas checked his work and backed away from the stool he had been using. “Hold him until I have put all to rights,” he instructed. “He’ll want to move after his confinement. We should be near the gate when he is unchained.” He picked up the tools and the stool, and then signaled Matt to bring the horse forward. Thomas was already outside the stall when Matt let Shadow go. The stallion immediately came to life, clomping, kicking, and moving from one end of the stall to another as he stretched out his legs. Matt slipped out the gate, and Thomas fastened it behind them.
With his focus on Shadow, Matt hadn’t noticed that the rest of the Taylors had appeared and were moving in or out of the barn. One boy entered briefly to fill a sack from a bin and then was off to feed the chickens. Thomas looked around at the activities and, seeming satisfied, motioned to Matt. “The animals must be collected from the south pasture for the night.”
Thomas led them out of the barn to another pasture, which was bigger than the one where Matt first saw Shadow. Approximately twenty horses of different sizes filled the pasture, with a few being a good walk away. Thomas opened the gate and pointed. “Can you bring those from the far end?” Matt nodded. He had worked at a relative’s dairy farm as a boy and had herded cows, and he didn’t think horses would be much different.
“Scout!” Thomas called out. The dog came trotting around the corner of the barn. He looked suspiciously at Matt and growled. “He’ll help,” Thomas said. “There’ll be animals that he pushes to the corners. Start them moving in the proper direction and he’ll finish the task.” The dog stared up in anticipation. “Scout,” Thomas said, pointing to the corral next to the pasture. “In!”
The dog went to work. He ran far ahead of Matt, who walked hurriedly behind. A few horses already walked towards the barn on their own, but others lingered, and the dog barked them into movement or nipped at their legs. Matt found himself in the way of the herded horses and had to jog toward the perimeter of the pasture. Three horses stood at the farthest edge, backed up against the fence. The dog waited impatiently to the side as Matt pulled out the first two, then he stepped in to herd them into the main group. He came back for the third horse and repeated the exercise. Matt watched Scout, impressed by his ability to move the animals towards the barn as an organized group.
A large chestnut horse lingered behind to play with Scout. Matt remembered him as Thunder, having met him in the barn with Grace. At one point, the horse stepped in behind the dog and nearly pushed him off his feet with his head. Scout recovered his footing, circled back around the horse and nipped at his legs. Thunder bounded forward out of reach, then paused to face Scout. They repeated this more than once as they edged toward the corral. Eventually the game ended and Thunder joined the others walking toward the open gate, with the dog following behind in satisfaction.
Thomas, who had been switching around gates and fences, guided the horses into a corral close to the barn. The dog focused on the task until the last horse had entered. Thomas leaned over, patted him on the head, and said, “Good dog.” Matt met the dog’s gaze, briefly wondering whether he should also pat him. Scout noticed him moving closer and growled, making Matt pull his hand back.
“Cujo,” Matt whispered under his breath.
When they’d finished corralling the horses, Thomas checked to make sure there was water in the trough and then he led Matt back towards the house. “Wash up,” Mary said as they walked through the door. “There’s soap and a tub.” She pointed Matt in the direction of the hearth. Matt stepped down into the kitchen, grabbing his pack. There was a basin where he had seen the Taylors cleaning dishes. It had a metal tank above that provided water, along with a drain that led outside. The soap was a crude bar that didn’t smell like anything as he foamed it up to wash his hands, arms, and face.
Grace was the last to come in from outside. “Joshua’s coat looks the worse,” she said to her father.
“We must keep him away from the others until it clears,” Thomas replied, “or ’twill spread.” The girl nodded in agreement. She briefly met Matt’s glance, then looked away and went into the kitchen. Jonathan, the youngest boy, was already there when Matt took his seat at the table. He had a Bible open in his hands and was mouthing the words as he read. He looked up at Matt and returned to his Bible and began mouthing words again. Thomas entered the room wearing a fresh shirt and pants. He looked around and called, “Grace, we’re ready to read.”
When Grace finally returned, smoothing down her thick blond hair, she was clearly irritated at being rushed. Matt made a point of looking at her as she came in, so as not to seem like he was staring when she sat down. Even scowling, she was strikingly attractive. It was getting dark in the house, so Mary stood to light the oil lamps using a candle she carried in from the kitchen. The lamps gave a brighter light once the globes were set and adjusted.
Thomas spoke as the family bowed their heads. “Let us remember Kathryn, our beloved daughter and sister,” he said. “Lord, we know ’tis Your will and we shall never fully understand Your plan. We pray that You care for Kathryn in heaven and help us to heal our sorrow.” He went quiet for a moment to regain his composure. “We miss her greatly,” he continued in a broken voice. Mary was quietly sobbing. Thomas finished the prayer. “Please bless this family and farm that we may live to accomplish that which You have planned.” He paused and said, “Amen.”
It was quiet for a time, but then the boys started to get antsy. Mary wiped her eyes and asked for the Bible and began to read from one of the Gospels. It was the story of Jesus walking around collecting disciples. Although Matt wasn’t practicing anything as far as religion went, he believed in God and had had enough exposure growing up to consider himself a Christian. In truth, he had grown up jealous of his friends who did have a religion, mostly because it gave them a connection to others in the community that he didn’t have. In addition, he had read large parts of the Bible in college, during a time in his life when he was thinking that maybe he should have a religion.
As a scientist, Matt had been encouraged to adopt the Big Bang and evolution as the explanation for everything in the universe. The more he learned about science and the human body, though, the more he’d started to believe that life was not all based on the lucky rolls of random cosmic dice. He suspected that many scientists in his field had a similar perspective, but peer pressure was such that there was nothing to gain by voicing a belief in intelligent design. Even as a child, Matt had always felt that something else was going on in the universe, and he often found himself staring up at the ceiling and asking God for some hint of the plan. His science had never given him an explanation for his instinctual need to look into the sky and wonder if he had some predestined role to play.
The Taylors were religious people and it seemed to give them strength. As far as Matt was concerned, that was something to be respected. He wondered about the story of Kathryn, though he knew this was not the time to ask. He studied them as they took turns reading the Bible. Even the boys were expected to read their sections fluently as their father corrected them impatiently, and so it became apparent to Matt why Jonathan had been practicing. Matt watched transfixed as Grace read her passage of the Gospel. She was a radiant angel in the lamplight. By the time the Bible reached him, Matt was ready to do as good a job as he could. He read with expression and feeling and he noted the look of satisfaction on Thomas’s face.
“You’ve a passion for the word of God, Mr. Miller,” Thomas said. “You should find a church when you return to Philadelphia. It’s important for young men to worship, even if it seems inconvenient.” Matt nodded respectfully, though he couldn’t imagine a situation that would make him want to start attending church. Thomas was the last to read. He eventually said “Amen” and the family stood to prepare for bed. Thomas grabbed a lamp and said to Matt, “I’ll take you to the barn.”
Mary interrupted. “Let me get him a cloth so he can wash for church.”
“Church?” Matt said, laughing.
“We attend church on the morrow,” Thomas replied. “’Tis the Sabbath.”
“Church?” Matt repeated, now more seriously.
“I’ll wake you,” Thomas added.
Matt was beginning his polite refusal when he noticed Grace watching him out of the corner of his eye. He turned subconsciously to meet her ice-blue eyes, and she looked away. It was enough to make him reconsider. The blue eyes were still in his mind when he said hesitantly, “Sure, it’ll be a great story to tell the people back home.”
Thomas led Matt to the door and they walked to the barn with a lamp. As hard as he tried, Matt couldn’t tell the color of the leaves from the lamplight. It almost seemed now that he had been imagining that they were green. When they arrived at the barn, Thomas lit another lamp with the one in his hand. He set the towels on the wooden bench that Matt had used previously as his bed and handed him the light. “The well is around the side,” he said. “You may wash there.” Thomas turned and was gone, sliding the door closed behind him.
Matt smoothed the blankets out on the makeshift bed and crawled in. He lay there in the dim light of the lowered lamp. He was tired, and it didn’t take him long to begin dropping off. As he was about to fall asleep, though, he was startled back to consciousness by a loud scratching at the door. Something was trying to get in. The scratching went away for a moment, but ten minutes later it was back. When he heard a growl and a muffled bark, he jumped up out of bed to slide the door open. Scout shimmied past him, trotted over, sniffed the blankets, and hopped up on the foot of what was supposed to be Matt’s bed.
“Wait a minute,” Matt said to the dog, “that’s my bed.” Scout put his h
ead down on his paws with his eyes open. It was obvious that he was resolved not to go anywhere. Matt slowly climbed on. There was enough room for him to fit with the dog at his feet. As he stretched out, Scout let out a loud growl, making him pull his legs up. “I guess there’s room for both of us,” Matt whispered, resigned. He dropped off to sleep, sharing the bed with his new roommate.
5
Mister, Can You Give Me the Time?
Matt was riding on a motorcycle. The wind rushed around him as he accelerated into the setting sun and objects began to blur as he reached the speed of light. His speed increased as he twisted the throttle and the objects turned to ribbons of brilliance. As the ribbons faded, shadows of people and events began to pass around and through him. A few lingered long enough for him to see while others raced by. He recognized the Berlin Wall and saw it crumble, saw Martin Luther King at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial, bombs exploding, and soldiers landing on the beaches of Europe. It began to rain, and the droplets hit his face as he sped forward. They were hot and blasted his face like sandpaper. His face grew warm and wet as the drops fell to the loud beating of a drum. The vision turned to white.
Matt shuddered awake and opened his eyes. Light streamed into them as he turned his head towards a long wet tongue. Scout was licking his face. “Cut it out!” he said, pushing him away. Matt heard knocking on the barn door and lifted his head from the bed.
“Mr. Miller, Father said you should wake,” Jonathan said from outside. “We leave for church within an hour.”
Matt called out, “Thanks!” He heard the boy shuffle away.
Matt sat up and the searing pain returned to his head. He had hoped that a night’s rest might soften his headache, but it was as bad today as yesterday. He sat there immobilized for a moment, waiting for it to subside. Once it dimmed to a mild throb, he pulled his pants and shoes on, went to the well for water and brought it back to the barn. The cold water made him shiver as he brushed his teeth, washed and shaved. He dried thoroughly with one of the coarse towels Mary provided and then put on the last clean shirt from his backpack. Matt zipped the pack and picked it up to place safely in the house.
