“Sam will work just fine and no, I didn’t know him.”
Lloyd nodded. “I thought maybe that’s why you picked Mossy Creek to settle down. Anyway, Del and Mayor Ida were seeing one another but Del left to go back to his ex-wife, leaving the path wide open for Chief Royden.” He went on, filling me in on more of the local gossip. After paging through several catalogs and his own parts inventory, Lloyd said, “Okay. I can build you a pump that’ll do the trick.”
“Oh. I was just asking for your opinion on which one to order.”
“I’ll give you a better pump for the money than anything you can get on the Internet. Then there’s the electrical wiring you’ll need for lighting and such. I’ll get you all set up, don’t worry. Now, how about fish?” he asked, already punching numbers on his telephone. “Hank? I’ve got the new guy, Sam Greene, here. Yeah.” Lloyd nodded to whatever Dr. Blackshear, the local veterinarian, asked. “Yeah, he’s the one. He and his son are gonna be putting in a garden pond, so I’m sending him over so you can tell him about the fish he’ll need.”
And like that, over my protests, I found myself standing outside Lloyd’s shop with a pond pump, filter and lighting in the works and an appointment with the local veterinarian to talk fish. Still, it was hard to resent Lloyd’s bulldozing tactics. I liked the man.
“You look a little shell-shocked, General.”
I blinked and turned to see that Police Chief Amos Royden had pulled up right behind me in his squad car. He was younger than I expected. “Call me Sam. And yes, it feels that way. I didn’t even know you were there until you said something.”
The chief glanced at Lloyd’s shop and smiled. “I know what you mean. You and your family settling in?”
“We are. Thanks. Nice town you’ve got here, Chief.”
“We like it. I hear you’re putting in a garden pond.”
I didn’t bother to question how he knew. “Yes, sir. The wife’s wanted one for a long time.” I considered what Lloyd had told me. “I was just heading over to the mayor’s office to see whether or not I needed a building permit.”
“Can’t see why you would.”
“That’s what I thought but figure it couldn’t hurt to stop by and introduce myself.”
“I’m sure the mayor will be happy to talk with you. Well, see you around.”
Remembering that Hank Blackshear was waiting, I decided to stop at the mayor’s office another day.
When I drove up to the Blackshear Veterinary Clinic I was greeted by a firm handshake from Hank. I was surprised to see his wife, Casey, in a wheelchair. She held their little adopted daughter on her lap. I knelt down to LiLi, who looked at me shyly. The child had some development issues that worried her parents.
“I have a little girl, too,” I told her. “Her name is Grace. She was named after a girl I once tutored in math. That’s how I met my wife, as a matter of fact. Little Grace was Meredith’s neighbor. She’d been adopted by the base chaplin and his wife, an army nurse, though she had a congenital heart condition.” I smiled sadly. “She could come up with the most outrageous comments, most of the time aimed at how she felt my and wife’s relationship should develop.”
“That’s a lovely story,” Casey said. “Have you kept in touch with her? The first Grace?”
“We did, yes. Unfortunately she succumbed to her condition last year, just a few months after Meredith’s father passed away. That’s another reason I want to give Meredith this pond. She needs something to bring happiness back into her life.”
Hank spoke up. “There’s a good koi farm down toward Atlanta. I could drive you down there whenever you want to go.”
“Oh, you don’t have to go to any trouble. Just give me the address and I’ll find it.”
“No trouble. In fact, depending on how your pond turns out, Casey and I are thinking of putting in one here at the clinic.”
By time I left the Blackshear’s, Hank had decided when we’d make the trip to Atlanta, and Casey had extended an invitation for Meredith, the kids and me to come to dinner the following Friday evening.
ooo
“You what?” Buck asked me later that night when I stood in the immaculate doorway of his room. Like the physical fitness requirements, the boy would have no problem keeping up with the Academy’s policy on neatness. Buck lay stretched out on the bed, not studying but flipping through a magazine. He’d probably ace whatever test he wasn’t studying for, I thought with equal twists of pride and envy. Every decent grade I’d ever gotten was earned with sweat and hours of study.
“I’d like your help digging a garden pond in the back yard,” I repeated.
“Why?”
Calling on my tactical training, I went after his weak spot. “This is something your mom’s always wanted, but I never could give it to her before. Now I can. Will you help?”
“I guess.” His lips twitched. “What makes you think you know how to do this?”
“It’s a pond. Dig a hole, fill it with water.” I grinned when Buck goggled at me. “Hey, I’m not stupid. I looked up information on the Internet, talked with a few people in town. And I figure since you did that science project on eco-systems a year or so back, you’d know some things.”
“Yeah, right, like you’d listen to anything I said.”
“Depends on what you have to say. Right now, though, I’m more interested in your back and arm muscles. We start two weeks from Saturday. Early,” I tacked on when he groaned. Then I tossed the folder of papers I’d brought along onto his bed. “Read over these, if you don’t mind. Let me know what you think.”
“Wait!”
I turned back to see he’d sat up.
“You’re talking about digging this thing by ourselves? With shovels?”
“Yep.”
“Have you seen the dirt out there? It’s hard, red clay. The stuff they use to make bricks.”
“Would you rather spend the morning filling out your Candidate Questionnaire?”
He looked me square in the eye, man to man. “I’ll work you under the table.”
“We’ll see.”
ooo
The next day I was outside, pounding marking sticks into the ground for the dimensions of the pond when Buck came home from Bigelow County High. I wished Mossy Creek’s new high school was already open. It was a long drive down to the south end of Bigelow County. At least Grace would be able to transfer closer to home once the new school opened.
“Hey,” he said as he climbed out of his truck.
“Hey. Where’s your sister?”
“Tryouts. Track team.”
I wanted to ask if he planned to get involved in any sport but wasn’t in the mood for another argument. “Is it different this time?” I asked instead. He looked at me. “You know, because this is the last move.” And suddenly the thought of him leaving kicked me in the stomach.
“Kinda.” He glanced around the yard, shook his head a little. “This isn’t where you’re planning to dig the pond, is it?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“You want a waterfall, right?”
“Of course.”
He nodded, then walked to a spot farther up the yard by a good hundred feet. “Then we need to start it here.” He gestured with his hands, and I could practically see the enthusiasm pumping out of him. “It’ll look more natural, like it’s always been here, coming out of the woods.”
“But it’s so far from the deck. I was hoping your mom and I could sit out on the deck and listen to the waterfall.”
“I get that. But it’s wrong.”
I stepped forward, ready to get into that argument, after all, when I realized he was caught up in whatever was going on in his head. I was losing command here, but for once I didn’t mind.
“You’ve got to work with what you’ve got,” Buck said. “You can’t go against the way nature would have the water flow. This is the best way.” He looked at me hard and I got the vague sense he meant something more than where to place a g
arden pond. “Do you understand, Dad?”
“I’m trying.”
“Okay.” He walked down to where I stood. “I can’t believe I’m going to suggest this ’cause it’s going to mean more back-breaking work, but what we can do is enlarge the deck.” He took the mallet and a stick from the ground where I’d left them. “Bring it out to here.” He pounded the stick in. “Have it a few steps down from the original, like it’s another level. Or we could make a stone patio and have a fire pit.”
“I like the patio idea.”
I watched him smile—my little boy again. The infant who smiled hello as he lifted his arms to be picked up. The toddler who squealed with delight as he rode on my shoulders. The Little Leaguer who grinned as wide as the gap in his front teeth when he spotted me in the stands after he hit his first home run.
“It’s going to mean a lot more work,” he warned.
And more time together—a definite bonus. “Draw it up,” I told Buck. “I’ll talk to your mom.”
“I still think you should consider hiring a backhoe.”
“Now why . . .” I slapped him on the back. “. . . would I spend good money when I’ve got free slave labor?”
It took Buck two days to finish the drawing. I was stunned by the detail, which included placement of bushes and flowers. I had no idea my son could draw.
After Buck and Grace left for school, and Meredith went upstairs to her office to write, I stepped onto the deck and compared the drawing to the yard.
Miz Erma reared up from behind a shrub in her yard, where she’d been planting or weeding, wearing another blindingly bright shirt with a pair of jeans which she used to wipe the dirt off her hands.
“Morning, Sam. I hear that boy of yours drew up some plans for your garden pond. Mind if I see them?”
Since she waved me toward her patio table, where a pitcher of what looked like sweet tea sat, I headed over. As I spread out Buck’s drawing, I didn’t bother to ask how she knew about it. I liked my new neighbors and figured there would come a time when I appreciated the fact that they felt they could be part of my personal business. I wasn’t sure right now was one of those times.
“Your boy’s got a good eye and seems to have a talent for gardening.” A gnarled finger with a thin line of dirt under the nail tapped one section. “Oh, the butterfly bushes will be great here. But I’d reconsider putting the roses in there. That’s too close to those back woods and the deer will eat them down to the ground in no time, thorns and all.” She went on to compliment the choice and placement of flowers, the names of which my son apparently knew well enough to pick, ending with a comment that had my back going stiff.
“I’d say the boy has the makings of a dandy horticulturalist. He might want to talk with Harry Rutherford. He’s a Professor of Environmental Biology studying the effects of acid rain up on Mount Colchik.”
“Buck’s going to West Point.”
“Ahhh.” She studied my face. “Like his daddy?”
“His granddaddy. Meredith’s father. I never had the honor. I came up through the ranks the hard way.”
She poured tea into two glasses, offered me one and drank deeply of hers. “Seems like it worked out well enough for you.”
“Yes, ma’am. But I’d like for Buck to have a better start.”
“A body would be hard-pressed to have a better start in life than having parents who love you.”
Was it enough? I questioned over the course of the next several days. It was, without a doubt, more than I’d had for the first miserable sixteen years of my life. I had vague memories of my mother, memories that were often blurred by the black and blue bruises left on her from my father’s fists. At least I’d never hit my children. Or my wife. Even when the kids had been younger and needed—deserved—a spanking, I left that to Meredith. The risk of what one strike might unleash inside of me frightened me more than any enemy or battlefield I’d ever faced.
I never told my kids about that black time in my life, though Meredith often encouraged me to do so. What would it accomplish? Like any parent, I didn’t want them to have any reason to think less of me. Instead, I made sure they had every opportunity available. And I had no intention of standing aside and letting Buck turn up his nose at the best opportunity he’d have in his life.
When Saturday morning arrived, I lay in bed waiting for the sun to come up, as excited as a kid on Christmas morning.
“Sam . . .” Meredith sighed and turned to face me in the bed. “If you keep on tossing and turning, you’re going to be too worn out to do any digging.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” I squirmed. “I’m looking forward to building this pond, Meredith. More so than anything I’ve done in quite a while. Part of it’s because I know how much you want one and there’s the time I’ll spend with Buck. But I also want to make this home really ours in a way we’ve never had the chance to do before. To feel part of a community.”
“It’s two hours until sunrise.” She cupped a hand on my cheek and leaned in to kiss me. “If you’re not going to sleep, why don’t we make good use of the time?”
Later, when I stood outside Buck’s door, nerves had replaced the excitement. I started to knock but something inside my chest urged me to just open the door. Buck slept as he’d done since an infant—head completely buried under the covers. I crossed the room and nudged the lump my best guess said could be a shoulder. “Rise and shine, son. There’s a shovel outside with your name on it.” There was a groan but the blanket moved and Buck’s messy head poked out. “Mom’s making us breakfast. You’ve got five.”
I had to give my son credit. He never balked during that first day. He did as I told him, did what I asked of him and worked hard. In fact, he worked with more enthusiasm than I expected. Miz Erma came over to check on our progress and, of course, Meredith stopped us from time to time with cold drinks.
In the late afternoon we paused when a vehicle turned up our driveway.
“Hey, Buck,” a teenaged girl called in a flirty voice from her side of the back seat. She was one of five girls inside the car.
“Someone you know?” I teased.
“They’re all on Grace’s cross-country team.” He waved, and Grace shot out of the house carrying a duffle bag.
“Bye Daddy,” she called as she piled into the crowded back seat. “See ya tomorrow.” She leaned back out the window. “Buck? You coming tonight?”
“Not sure,” he called, then explained to me. “The team is making banners for next week’s meet, then there’s a party followed by a sleep-over.”
“What kind of party?”
“Chill out, Dad. I wouldn’t let Grace go if the kids were that kind.”
“What do you mean you wouldn’t?”
He shrugged and bent for the pickaxe. With strong sure strokes he lifted the weighted tool and planted it fork-side down to break the hard-packed red clay into chunks.
“I keep an eye out for her and the kids she hangs with.”
“You do?”
He took a few more swings and then stopped to look at me. “When you went on that first tour to Iraq, you told me to keep an eye on Mom and Grace.” He plunked down the axe again. “I make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.”
“Good God, Buck. That was six years ago.”
“Yeah.”
“You weren’t much more than a kid yourself.”
He stopped and looked me in the eye. “You trusted me. I wasn’t going to let you down.” He shrugged again, obviously dismissing my surprise.
I felt something hard in my chest break into chunks as surely as the red clay at my son’s feet.
As clear as a photograph I could see it—the taste of tears on Meredith’s lips as I kissed her one last time, the feel of Grace’s face buried in my neck, the hard floor under one knee as I squatted in front of Buck. He was trying so hard not to cry as he stood tall and at attention. His eyes had been serious as he listened to me ask him to look out for his mom and s
ister, as he nodded understanding and acceptance of the request I made of him.
I felt a moment’s shame that I’d expected so much of so young a boy—and immense pride that he’d followed those orders even to this day.
“I know you never had a brother,” Buck said. I blinked and brought my son back into focus. “I always figured that’s why it was so important to you that we all look out for one another. You know, since neither you nor Mom had a brother to look out for you.”
I could have corrected him, could have told my son something I’d only told two other people in this world. But wasn’t it more important to express faith in his future than to expose a shadow from my past?
“You’re going to make a helluva good officer one day, Buck.” My son stared at me for a long moment, and I wished I’d said something else.
Then he cocked his hip so he could slide his chirping cell phone out of his pocket.
“Hey, what’s up?” he answered while continuing to hold my gaze. “Not sure, let me check with the General.” He held the phone away from his ear. “How much longer are we going to dig?”
“This about the party?” He nodded. “Go ahead.” I gestured toward the ground. “You deserve a break after all you did today.”
Buck completed his call and climbed out of the shallow hole. As he walked away, I again felt frustrated over not ever saying the right thing to my son.
“Buck?” I called on impulse.
He glanced over his shoulder.
“Thanks for your help today.”
He nodded and went inside.
I did a little more half-hearted digging until Buck came out and took off in his truck. Meredith came out quick on his heels.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.” I rammed the shovel into the clay dirt and avoided my wife’s knowing look. “Buck had a party he wanted to go to. I told him I thought we’d done enough for the first day.”
“And yet you’re out here still digging.” When I didn’t answer she sighed. “Sam, why don’t you take your own advice and stop, too? Come inside, take a shower and I’ll treat you to dinner out.”
ooo
Over the course of the next few weeks, people felt obligated to stop by and observe, and occasionally question, the progress of the pond.
Critters of Mossy Creek Page 13
