by A. C. Wilson
“I’m here, keeping you from crossing the line that won’t allow you to return.”
Travis knew the voice. He had once known it well. The owner was like a brother to him and his heart ached with recognition.
“Rip.”
The name that had eluded him was connected with some of the happiest and saddest memories for Travis. The boy, the teenager, and the man had been his best friend for many, many years.
“Trav.”
His heart burgeoned with the sincere relief of a familiar voice and a long lost friend. The very thought caused Travis’s stomach to plummet. The darkness was a cruel shade that didn’t allow him to see his friend. It kept him from really knowing it was Rip Covington.
“How are you here?” Travis asked the voice in the darkness. He knew it wasn’t rational to be speaking to a long-lost friend, but it felt very real.
“How is it that you are here, man?”
There was a deep chuckle and the same playful humor.
“Damn bull I imagine. I can’t remember all of it. Still a bit fuzzy.” Travis wanted to open his eyes, but the lids refuse to lift.
“You never could look out for yourself.” Rip’s voice chuckled again and Travis mentally rolled his eyes.
“That’s the pot calling the kettle black. Who was killed riding bulls?” Travis had meant it to be funny, but the humor died on his words. The memory was a cruel thing and it was coming back in flooding brilliance. The quiet was unnerving in the darkness. It stretched every sense out toward it hoping to find his friend.
“That was years ago. You always said it would happen and it sure as hell did.” Rip’s voice trembled in remorse.
Travis missed his friend every day. Often he would catch himself talking to Rip as he rode the fence line or as he waited for the stock tank to fill. It was in those quiet moments that his friend wasn’t gone at all.
“You’ve missed so much, Rip. My kids missed growing up with their uncle around and I lost my best friend.” Travis felt the tears well up underneath his closed eyelids, but they didn’t fall. He felt a heavy weight on his chest.
“I know, Trav. That’s why I’m here now. You aren’t going to be leaving them at least not for a good long time. So you fight like hell! You call in every favor you’ve saved up and you get your sorry ass back to those kids and that pretty wife.”
If Travis thought really hard and focused on the memories, he could see Rip standing before him. His ready smile and shit-eating grin in full display. Rip Covington was his best friend and his best man. They chased women together until Lacey Allyn had hooked Travis for life. Rip was sweet on her friend, Janell Parker, but it had ended the night Rip was riding bulls in San Antonio. Dang nob headed Angus hit the fence with Rip on his side and it broke the young man’s neck. Death came swift and immediate. So did Travis’s heartbreak. Travis had banned his sons from riding any livestock and refused to watch any rodeo the rest of his days.
“Congratulations by the way. You and Abbi have a fine boy.”
Rip’s words caught Travis off guard. Blake Phails had only just come into his life a mere four months ago.
“How did you know that?” Travis asked, his tears dissolving and a smile just touching his lips.
“Oh heck, you didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily now, did you?” Rip chuckled.
“I guess I did think that. I’ve never spoken with a…with a..,” Travis couldn’t find the right words.
“With a dead person? It’s okay. I’ve come to terms with it now.” Rip’s voice did sound resigned and no hint of anger touched the edges. Travis mentally nodded.
“So you’ve been watching this whole time?” For a moment it sounded great and then it creeped him out. “Everything?”
The silence met his question and as it stretched on, Travis was worried that Rip was gone. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him and it was only the medication making him hallucinate.
“Well not everything. There are some things I’d rather not see if you know what I mean.” Rip’s sudden return made Travis jump and then he began to chuckle. Some things were private and well, it was unnerving to think of spectators, even celestial ones.
“That’s good.” Travis couldn’t shake the questions he had. “So how do I get back?”
“What?”
“How do I wake up? It’s been great talking to you again, but I miss my family.”
The silence returned and it was starting to irritate Travis. It was like something teasing him and then disappearing altogether. Maybe this wasn’t Rip? Maybe it was a figment of his imagination? Travis sighed and realized he had more questions than answers.
“You can wake up any time you want. You just have to want it bad enough.” Rip’s voice said it calmly and evenly.
“How could I not want to go back? Damn it, Rip, tell me how to do it!”
“Getting angry helps. Now think really hard. Try to move a finger.” Rip sounded a bit patronizing but Travis would give it a go. He focused on his chest rising and falling in steady, even breaths. The beeping of the monitors filled his ears until that was all he could hear. Travis thought about his hands. Pictured them lying flat on the bed beside him and he tried to move just one finger.
Nothing happened.
He tried again. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he pictured his index finger on his right hand lifting. It had to do it. He wanted it so badly. Come on….move!
Still nothing happened.
“I thought you told me if I wanted it badly enough that it would happen?” Travis mentally yelled at Rip not even knowing if his friend was still there. Anger didn’t surge inside him as much as grotesque disappointment. God knew how long he had been away from all of them and time continued on. He wanted his life back.
“I didn’t say it would be easy.” The condescension of his voice was thick and Travis wanted to smack Rip, instead he growled in his frustration. “There are factors working against you, buddy. Your age, your body, your injuries, and every devil you ever pissed off.” Rip’s words made Travis pause.
“What do you mean by ‘every devil I ever pissed off’? Why would you say that?”
“You don’t think you’ve gotten to where you are by anything more than the grace of God, do you? Something is always trying to derail your progress and each time you turned back to Him.”
“Him?”
“Yes, Him. You’ve shared your life with God and he’s walked you through some scary times. The only time I can remember you being angry at Him was when I died. Every other time you tried to do what was right, even if it was hard.”
Travis thought about that. It was true. When he had heard of Rip’s death, Travis had nearly been blinded by his grief. The world had spun desperately out of control and he had railed at God for taking his best friend away. The pain of a broken heart felt like his insides were going to break apart and right there he would pour out onto the ground. Lacey had tried to console him. It hadn’t worked.
“I was angry with Him. I felt like all that trust I had put in Him was misguided.” Travis took an unsteady breath.
“I remember watching you fall apart. I wasn’t exactly happy about leaving either. It was just my time to go.” Rip’s voice was thick with emotion and Travis wished he could embrace his buddy. Rip was the brother he never had.
“Right or not, I still hated it. Every moment I wanted to share with you was another sting of loss.” Travis sniffed, holding back the tears.
“Do you remember when you forgave me for leaving?” Rip asked him and Travis shook his head.
“I didn’t have to forgive you. I didn’t blame you for leaving.”
“Oh but you did blame me. You blamed yourself for not being there in San Antonio even though Lacey was eight months pregnant and wasn’t doing too well on her own.”
“She was pretty ill. Nora really kicked Lacey’s butt. That was the worst pregnancy as I recall.” Travis smiled softly. He could remember holding that little pink blanket with
a squishy baby inside. Dark hair and big blue eyes peeped up at him.
“Sonora.”
“I remember you saying that it was the perfect name for a girl. We spoke once about having kids of our own and you wanted a girl named Sonora.” His heart twisted at the memory. That conversation came to mind when Lacey asked him what they should name her. Lacey had wanted Alexandra in honor of their friend. But Travis had heard Sonora whispered in his brain.
“You reminded me when I held my daughter in my arms. You were the one that whispered Sonora to me.”
“I did and you heard me. I felt your pride and your joy. I also felt your anger and your pain. The moment you named your baby girl was the moment you forgave me for leaving you.”
“I am glad you were there.” Travis felt like he couldn’t breathe. His chest was tight and his throat hurt. The silence didn’t frighten him this time. Travis let it hold him and heal him. He hadn’t realized that there was a piece that had never healed properly. He said a quick prayer of thanks.
“Travis, baby, please wake up. Please come back to me.”
Lacey’s voice pleaded with him and when Travis went to speak he found that he couldn’t. Although he could hear her, he couldn’t yet wake up. He despaired at her tears that touched his hand as she held it up to her cheek.
I can feel!
He could. She was holding his hand and her tears were touching his skin. There was relief in the knowledge that at least he was coming around.
“Keep trying and you’ll get there.” Rip’s voice sounded so faint now. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you cross this line.” The words faded completely until it seemed like it was just a dream. It felt like a balmy breath only brushing his memory, but the pain of Rip’s death was gone. Travis could only feel love and understanding.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
September 1982
Lacey lay in the dim morning light of the wee hours and listened to her husband snoring beside her. One look over the top of her bulging stomach told her that Travis had fallen to sleep with his boots on. Her inner self grumbled at the disrespect shown by her husband of less than a year. Forcefully she pushed the anger away. It would do very little but agitate her if she thought about her new blue comforter and whatever was on his boots. Her stomach tightened and then stretched. The little one inside felt very much like a hamster spinning in its wheel.
Lacey set her hand on the distention and took as deep a breath as she could. Just a week or two until this ornery creature was introduced to the world. It was a moment that couldn’t come soon enough. Her first pregnancy was completely off what other mothers had shared with her. Other women had enjoyed being pregnant and felt enormous pride in being able to bring a child into the world. It had gone somewhat opposite for her. The morning sickness seemed to have started almost immediately and it left her shaken, weak, and unable to do much of anything. A couple of times had found her waking up on the bathroom floor after passing out as she leaned over the toilet. Pregnancy was an awful affliction and Lacey was sorry to even admit to herself that she had hated the way it felt.
She glanced over her side again as she lay there in bed. Her heart clenched and her eyes welled up with tears. As if being sick wasn’t enough, Travis was on some sort of a bender. Five days ago his best friend, Rip Covington was killed riding a bull in San Antonio. The news was beyond devastating if it could be so. Rip was like a brother to Travis and had been nothing but kind to her. Heck he even seemed excited about their expanding family too. Uncle Rip.
They had buried Rip yesterday and Travis had only receded further into the darkness. He was angry and hurt. It was apparent all over his face which was now heavy with prickly, bearded growth. His cheeks were red from the alcohol and saliva trickled out of the corner of his mouth. His thick, dark hair was matted from his hat and a piece had fallen over his forehead to cover one eye from view. As she looked him over, Lacey couldn’t believe that there was a stranger in her bed. The man lying beside her looked familiar, maybe even like the man she married, but this wasn’t him.
Travis stopped mid-snore and wiped his face in his sleep. Dislodging the lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead, Travis rolled onto his side. The crumbs of mud and whatever else lay against her white sheets and blue comforter. Lacey swallowed hard to keep from shouting at him. This wasn’t like him at all. Death was a natural part of life and she understood that it was all too soon for Rip. What she didn’t understand was why he was torturing himself over something that he had no control over. How could a person take responsibility of something so horrible? Why would he want to?
Lacey sighed and hugged her belly a bit more tightly. Her own mother had said to be patient and attempt to understand him. Mentally she rolled her eyes. Grieving was one thing and anger was another. Now he was drinking like he wanted to just forget the world. It hurt. In his grief he had forgotten her and that she was carrying their first child. A child that was about to make her get up and head for the bathroom. Her bladder ached and now her stomach felt like it was going to empty everything it had in it, which wasn’t much. Shifting her cumbersome body ever so slightly to the edge of the bed, Lacey tilted to sit and then gradually stand up. Her cotton night dress fell back down to her knees as she ungracefully waddled to the bathroom.
Her nose twitched at the smell of sweat, dirt and stale liquor. She grimaced at the empty bottle of Vodka on the nightstand. She had a sudden urge to take it and break it upside his head. It was also the moment that her unborn baby sent a swift kick into her sternum. Whatever this child was trying to accomplish in there, it felt like it was using its feet as leverage against the softer tissue. Lacey’s lungs wouldn’t fill up with as much as she would like. Her head started to spin. She clutched the door jamb for support. Taking slow, short breaths to wait for the spell to pass, Lacey closed her eyes. Just as she was hoping to move towards the living room, the familiar icy chill crawled up her spine. Her eyes bugged, her heart started to race, and she turned to make it to the toilet in time.
Her night dress tangled around her knees as she fell onto the rug and barely lifted the toilet lid in time. Her eyes watered and her retching was incredibly loud. Nothing was in her stomach and yet it still heaved and rolled. She was powerless to the mechanism that kept her so tired and beat down.
“What is that noise?” The question came with more anger than inquiry. Lacey hadn’t expected it and certainly didn’t answer as she heaved again. Once she was able to look up, Travis was standing in the doorway with a look of disgust and horror. She didn’t think she could feel worse, but she was wrong. Her eyes held his for as long as she was able, which was about thirty seconds before she was retching again.
“I’m sorry.” The hasty apology was said as he backed away from the door. No doubt he was headed back to bed. Taking short breaths again, Lacey sat on the rug with her forearms wrapped around the toilet seat for security. Her heavy belly rested in her lap. Thankfully the little one inside had settled down. Struggling to her feet, Lacey closed the lid and flushed the toilet. Brushing her teeth, she tried not to look into the mirror. She knew she looked awful--pale, exhausted, fat and angry. Seeking some sort of anchor, Lacey held onto the anger.
“If you can’t handle this, then I suggest you leave right now.” She held onto the bedroom door as she had done before. Her voice was crisp, clear and she watched him. Travis’s back was turned to her so that she couldn’t see his face. She needed a partner. She wanted her husband. This wasn’t him.
The silence in the bedroom was only broken by the sound of the birds twittering outside. They were loud on this autumn morning. Lacey was getting tired and her feet were sore. Still she held her ground. He wasn’t the only one suffering and although she could understand, she couldn’t accept it.
“Make sure you leave the extra house key.” Lacey’s voice had no feeling. It could have made frostbite proud. She turned to make her way down the hall and into the living room. The recliner was more comfortable than her bed, besides ther
e was a stranger in residence.
Not for much longer.
She sighed and held her stomach protectively as she walked. Travis had yet to say anything. Maybe it was done. Maybe it was over before it really had a chance to begin. She hoped that her parents would understand why they were separating in less than a year of marriage. This certainly wasn’t what she had in mind at all. The gold and brown flowered recliner was a welcome respite. She sat down gingerly and adjusted the little pillow for her lower back. Closing her eyes as she sat back and rested her head on the padding, Lacey tried to calm her pounding heart. Her stomach was tight and her lower back was aching profoundly.
She heard the floor creak before she heard his voice.
“I’m sorry, Lace. I can’t leave.”
She didn’t open her eyes. She didn’t want to see what a mess he was and hope that she could somehow clean him up. It wasn’t her job. Besides that, Travis had always been the level-headed one and she the emotional one. The tables had somehow been turned and she could say definitely that she disliked it vehemently.
“I am sure I can go stay with my parents or Janell.” Lacey didn’t want to get out of the chair.
“No.”
“Well I admit it isn’t ideal, but that way I won’t be alone.” Lacey continued, ignoring the rise in his voice.
“You’re not alone.”
“I am, but this little one will make its debut soon. I’ll be sure to send you pictures.”
She was baiting him. Still she kept her head leaning against the chair and her eyes firmly closed.
“Like hell you will!” Travis was all attention now and she could hear his steps as he moved across the floor. “That child is mine.”
The thickness of the energy in the room could be cut with a knife. She could hear him panting and wondered how his head was feeling this morning.
“It is mine too. I’ve been too sick to move. I’ve been so dizzy that I faint. I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster and I’ve spent the last five days feeling like I’m doing this alone. I can’t go on this way. If you aren’t in this with me, I’m out.” Her voice rose in octaves that had to have his head splitting. When she opened her eyes to the silence, she found him only a couple feet away looking at her seriously.
