Stephen and Charlotte took good care of the house and were more than happy to keep Clarence and Jenny on board to care for the ranch. The house itself became more of a vacation home for the Henderson family and their children. Which gave Clarence not only more responsibility around the place when the Henderson's were gone most of the year, but also gave Jenny and him plenty of much needed privacy during their golden years. Sadly, Stephen seemed to have inherited his father's heart condition and himself suffered a major heart attack at the age of fifty three. He left behind his wife, Carla and his two sons, Dennis and Charlie, who between them had given him three grandchildren. Dennis and his wife Paula had one daughter, Elizabeth, or Bethie as the spunky little six year old liked to be called. Charlie was a single dad. His ex-wife, Charlene, and he had an eleven year old daughter, Alyssa, and a nine year old son, Bradley.
Charlotte, the elder matriarch of the Henderson family now, seemed to have avoided the health issues that had struck her father and her older brother and was quite fit and healthy for a woman her age. Charlotte for the most part controlled her parent’s estate and was the driving force that kept both sides of the family together. She spent the most time at the ranch and was by far the closet with Clarence. Matter of fact, even at her age she still referred to the lovable old man as Uncle C, and that moniker and been adopted by all the children of the Henderson clan. In the last few years since Jenny's passing her bond with Clarence had surely strengthened. Perhaps this was due to the fact that she could so closely empathize with his state after losing the woman he'd spent his life with. She was well aware of the sting of that kind of loss and of the kind of hole it can leave in one's life.
Charlotte, like Clarence, had only married once in her years. She married a handsome business man named Jack Starkwell when she was twenty four. By age twenty seven they brought a beautiful baby girl named Samantha into the world. And at age thirty seven she had her world torn from her when they were both hit head on by an eighteen wheeler semi-truck that lost control going over Snoqualmie Pass and skidded across the icy road right into her family. If she hadn't come down with the flu she would have been with them for that ski trip and most likely would been sitting in the seat her daughter was sitting in when her life suddenly ended. For many years she couldn't help but think it should have been that way, perhaps her little girl would have survived buckled up in the back seat as supposed to sitting in the front passenger seat, taking the brunt of the impact.
The guilt truly ate at her until she wondered if she could take the pain of living another day. It was her darling Uncle C. and Aunt Jenny who consoled her through those tough times. She wholeheartedly felt that the bond they shared was just as strong as the one she had with her own parents. That was many years ago, and when Jenny passed away it wasn't even a question for Charlotte that she was going to be there for Clarence just as he was for her during her time of tragedy. She actually stayed at the ranch year round for the first year after Jenny died just to make sure her old friend didn't have to brave the cold winter all alone.
Clarence was more than grateful for the company whenever there was a chance for it. Bot did it get lonely out there for an old man at times and for all intents and purposes, the Henderson’s were the closest thing he had left to family these days. Not that he didn't also cherish the long Summer days he had all to himself where he could just sit back on his porch, drink a few cold beers, and get lost in himself gazing out at the wonderful land he'd called home his whole life. Matter of fact, lately it seemed that's all he found himself doing.
For the last few months he'd began realizing that he was dwindling away hours at a time just staring off into the landscape. "Hmm, the day must have just got away from me," he told himself the few times that he had looked around and realize that he'd been sitting in the same spot for as long as six hours at times, just staring out at those hills. He figured he must have been daydreaming, just an old man with too much time on his hands getting lost in his memories. But truth be told, he had no idea what in the hell he'd been thinking about or how much time he'd spent thinking about it. What frightened him the most was that it seemed to really be getting worse.
On more than one occasion in the last couple weeks he would just kind of snap out of it, for lack of a better term, and not know what he was doing outside in the first place. He knew that he hadn't fallen asleep, and in some odd way he was completely aware that he had been sitting there gazing up at the hills surrounding the little valley all day long. He just could not for the life of him figure out how so much damn time went by. Last thing he usually remembered was stepping out on to the porch to savor his hot cup of black coffee and the cool, fresh air just as he had done every morning for the last five decades. Next thing he knew he would look around and find that it was already late afternoon, the day wasted, and him sitting there on his porch with a stupid look on his face and a full cup of cold coffee.
The obvious worry, and it was one that sent chills down Clarence's spine, was senility. At his age he had been lucky to keep his all faculties as well as he had. Sure, his short term memory wasn't quite what it used to be but the worst effect of that was it taking him a little longer in the morning to find the shed keys so he could start his daily chores. Very few Americans at his age were lucky enough to be as physically and mentally fit as Clarence Wilkerson. On his last birthday he received a lovely call from Charlotte where she teased, "Happy birthday, old timer! What are you now, eighty-six going on thirty?"
Clarence's worst fear these days, however, was ending up stricken with Alzheimer's or dementia and losing himself. He couldn't bear to even consider the thought of his mind slipping away, little parts of himself that he could never get back. The thought of having to leave his beloved ranch and go live out the rest of his miserable days in one of those places they put old invalids in while waiting for them to die. But the worst, most absolutely gut wrenching nightmare of all was the thought of losing his memories of Jenny. At that thought he made a firm decision to seek medical attention. The thought of going to a doctor scared the crap out of poor old Clarence, though. It was as if by making the appointment he was legitimizing his condition and in a way confirming that he knew something was wrong with him, and it could very well be the thing he feared the most in his old age, no more comforting denial.
~
Dr. Richard Caldwell had been Clarence Wilkerson's physician for the last twenty years and happened to be the one and only medical professional he'd put his trust into. He not only cared for him and Jenny for all those years without them ever feeling they were being taken advantage of in their old age, he'd shown nothing but the utmost compassion and professionalism during Jenny's passing. Matter of fact, he was the only doctor throughout the terrible ordeal that Clarence witnessed treating Jenny as an actual human being, a friend even, not just like some machine they had to try to keep running as long as they could until it inevitably broke down.
"Well, Clarence, I am glad to tell you that according to all our tests and scans I do believe that we can rule out Alzheimer's." Dr. Caldwell told him, "We'll wait for your blood work to come back from the lab and let you know if there's anything to be concerned about, but I don't want you losing any sleep over it while you wait for those result because I'd bet they come back just fine, it's really just routine procedure. But you should rest easy knowing that there's no tumors or any other brain abnormalities in you CT scan so I'm giving you a clean bill of health."
"I tell ya, Rick," Clarence said in a relieved but still somewhat edgy tone, "I was scared shitless there. I don't know what the hell I'd do if my mind went and, boy did it seem like I was losing it!"
Clarence made a sort of half smile but Dr. Caldwell could see it was forced and that Clarence was still scared, but too proud to fully show it.
"Well you can just go ahead and stop worrying yourself, Clarence," he said in his genuinely warm and caring voice, "Now I am glad you came in, you're not a young man and at your age it is a good idea to keep an
eye out for things like this. That being said, I'd tell you as a doctor, and as your friend, that you've just spent too much time out there on that ranch all by yourself. The best advice I can give you is to maybe get into town more and try to do a little socializing."
"Ah, shit...I don’t know that I..."
Dr. Caldwell cut him off, "Now I'm not saying you have to do anything all fancy, just maybe get out and have coffee at the local diner or maybe even look into one the senior activity nights at the community center here in town. They even have a senior poker night out there every other Wednesday and if I remember right you used to be the quite the card shark, Clarence."
Clarence's smile was real this time when he said, “You know, Rick, you're probably right. I'm just an old fart with too much time on his hands and only my own damn self to talk to, and I aint much for conversation most days!" Clarence chuckled at his own silliness, "I guess maybe getting out for a bit and playing some cards or something once in a while might be just the thing I need to keep these old gears from getting rusty."
Dr. Caldwell shook Clarence's hand and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder then said, "Like I said, I'm glad you came to see me, but I really don't think you have anything to worry about besides boredom. But you should really try to get out more and enjoy things; most eighty-six year old men aren't quite as lucky as you to still be in the shape you're in, you really ought to take advantage of it while you can"
"Well thanks again, Rick, and be sure to give Patty and the kids my best."
"Will do, Clarence, and please do tell the Henderson’s that if they want to swing by for dinner or anything while they're all here for the three day weekend they are always more than welcome. Plus, I know the kids would love to see their friends again."
"Yeah, I think they'd like that. It's gonna be so great having the whole crew back for the weekend"
Clarence left the doctor's office with a refreshed outlook on life. Everything Dr. Caldwell said made perfect sense. He just needed to get out and enjoy life more while he still could. That's damn sure what Jenny would have wanted for him. Her last words, the words she spoke before leaving him forever, were her begging him to promise to find happiness in life after she was gone and he owed to his love to honor those wishes.
Yes, he felt truly good for the first time in months. He even caught himself whistling as he climbed up into his big old Ford pickup truck and started the old beast up. "That's right!" he said to himself with huge grin, "Eighty-three years old and I still drive this rig better than half these youngsters drive in their goofy, little city cars!"
As he drove home he basked in the joy of knowing that in just a few short days Bear Creek Ranch would once again come alive with sights and sounds of the Henderson family festivities. There was going to be laughter and games, Barbecue feasts during the day and family dinners at night and, most importantly, the children running through the fields and laughing as they picked apples from the orchard in their backyard and played hide and seek in the old stables. Enjoying the last bit of summer in that innocent, carefree way that only children could appreciate.
His heart swelled with cheer to the point where a small, joyful tear trickled down the side of his wrinkled but smiling face. Everything was going to be so wonderfully perfect.
~
He'd awoken the next morning at 5:00am sharp, as always, this time completely determined not to "get lost" on the porch again. He was awake and aware and god damned if he wasn't in control of his own friggin mind. He pulled on his overalls, laced up his work boots, and made a hearty breakfast of eggs and whole grain toast. He also drank himself two cups of black coffee right there in the kitchen, instead of wandering out to that damn porch. He just was not going to let it happen again today and that was all there was to it. He had way too much to get done today to let himself blow the whole day again. The Henderson clan would be coming out in just a few days for their annual Labor Day weekend getaway and Clarence was just too damned proud to let them see the place in the condition it was in right now.
Structurally, the place was sound as ever, but Clarence just hadn't been keeping up with his daily chores and now lawns needed mowed and plants needed watering. Sadly, he feared, plants needed replacing, not just watering. It was August in Eastern Washington and the hot desert air had more than likely scorched all the hanging and potted spider plants and rose bushes the Henderson's had lining the decks of the summer ranch home. Clarence looked out of the window over his kitchen sink as he rinsed out his coffee mug. Out that window he could see the winding path that lead from the backyard of his small one story home all the way up the hill until it reached the small apple orchard just before the large back yard of the ranch house.
He made a heavy sigh as he thought of the over-grown grass and clogged rain gutters and he let pile up recently. All these years he'd never missed a beat with his upkeep of the property. Not only was pretty much all he left to do to stay busy these days, but it was a sense of pride with him. This was his land to tend to and if it was all he had left in this life then god damn it he was going to do the best job possible. He definitely had his work cut out for him, he had really let far too much slip by during his strange little vacations he'd been taking out on is porch lately. There was plenty of work, but nothing this old locomotive couldn't chug through in a day.
Alert, ready, and focused Clarence Wilkerson stepped out onto that front porch ready to take on the day. In fact, after he finished his work today he might even make that trip out to the community center and school those old twits on how poker's really played. Yes sir! He had a brand new lease on life and was ready to take that damn bull by the horns!
"No rest for the wicked, ya old fuck!" he made a guilty glance back to the picture of Jenny that sat on the nightstand below the old crucifix she'd kept on the wall that he couldn't bring himself to take down since it reminded him so much of her. Jenny would not have approved of his flagrant use of the "F" word. "I know, I know. I got in my mouth what you wouldn't have in your hand," he said with a smile at the picture, "Well don't be expecting me to wash my mouth out with soap, darling. Not this old dog."
It was about 6:30am when he finally made his was out to the porch to take on the day. Light was just beginning to slowly creep its way into the landscape. Clarence looked up at the sky, noticing the few stars still clinging to the early morning sky as well as the crescent moon that was steadily fading from sight to make way for the glaring August sun. The sky was clear, not a cloud in sight, and the gentle chirping of the swallows circling above the stables across the field signaled the start of a beautiful summer morning.
"Gonna be a hot one, " he said in response to their song, "I'd better get at it before that damn sun gets to height overhead and cooked me like a slug on a sidewalk."
As he went to step off the porch a spot up in the pines on the ridge above the valley caught his eye. His yard, well it was really more of a large meadow since his actually front grass only went out about thirty feet in each direction, stretched out over a few acres until it came to meet with the grassy hills that lead up to those pine trees he'd been spending so much of his days staring out at in his zombie-like state. If he looked directly out to the farthest end of the meadow, straight out the center of his porch, he could see where the hills came to a rocky cliff that went vertically up about sixty feet or so up on to the rocky ridge that lined that part of the valley. The place stood out among the landscape due to the fact that the rest of the ridge was lined with lush pine trees and sage grass until it came to that one spot on the ridge. It literally looked like someone had decided to cut down all the trees and remove all the vegetation from that one section in an almost circular fashion.
After a lifetime on the property Clarence rarely, if ever, even noticed the small abnormality anymore. But for some reason on this morning it caught his eye and for the first time in years he was taken aback by the sharp contrast this one bare patch of earth created in contrast the surrounding trees and shrubs. All it once it
occurred to Clarence for the first time in many, many years that he had never hiked his way up to that one strange spot. Truth be told, it was quite literally the one section of land he hadn't been to countless times, either for work around the ranch or just for a fun hike which, even at his age, he still liked to do as often as possible.
For some reason that he could not for the life of him understand he was nearly transfixed by this oddity of the landscape. He found his thoughts drifting off to a day that occurred a little over forty-three years ago. He was forty years old, living in the same old one story house he still called home. It was a crisp fall evening and he sat out on this same porch, or at least an earlier incarnation of it, he assumed, with his good buddy George Meninuck. The two of them had just finished a long day of rebuilding old wooden fences on the far edge of the Ranch and were sitting to enjoy a beer or ten while Jenny and George's wife, Norma, prepared some of Jenny's famous fried dumpling while gossiping over a bottle of cheap chardonnay.
It certainly struck Clarence as odd that this particular evening forty-three years ago was suddenly coming back to him and in perfect clarity like he was remembering what he had just had for breakfast this morning. The conversation he had with George played back in mind as if he were watching it on film, with such detail that he thought he could actually smell the cool autumn air as he let his mind drift into the memory.
Becoming the Gateway Page 2
